#Text post - Silent musings

[nine-steps-forward]

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[takimakiiiii]

chicken shop date pt.2 - LN4

synopsis: Lando's invited back to your dating show for a second date?!

wc: 2.4k (a little shorter than the first part!)

pairing!: lando norris x fem!reader

part 1 is here!

includes: fluff, hardcore flirting, no swearing (i think), playful banter, HEAVY 3rd person perspective use, adele jumpscare

a/n: WOW! I cannot believe how fast the first part blew up thank you so much! once again, this fictional fanfic is heavily inspired by amelia dimoldenberg's chicken shop date you can find on youtube! I also mention hot wings and stole the ice cream moment with bad bunny bc i thought that was super cute! anyways, pls enjoy and as always, reblogs and likes are super duper appreciated!

1 WEEK LATER . . .

Now Playing: LANDO NORRIS | CHICKEN SHOP DATE - THE SECOND DATE

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

The camera opens to a shot of outside the worn Chicken Shop, the location in neat text by the corner. There’s a soft DING of a bell ringing and the camera abruptly cuts, as if the camera itself is impatient and ready to begin the date. It slowly pans to Lando’s face who’s already got a wide grin on his lips. There’s a soft hum of the deep fryer’s in the background, the shop coldly lit by the overhead lamps. Yet, despite the chill of the shop, the atmosphere Lando and Y/N bring, lights the scene up with playful warmth. A small basket of chips sits between them but no one’s really paying attention to it. The shop is silent, the low buzzing of the AC in the background. There’s a gentle beat of silence, before Y/N speaks.

“So you’re back.” she says almost skeptically, as she adjusts herself in her seat, letting her eyes drift back to Lando. He nods curtly in reply, his curls bouncing softly. “Well, you invited me back, how could I refuse an offer like that?”

“Right, well it wasn’t because I wanted to. It was for the fans, obviously.” Y/N replies coolly, stealing a glance at the camera as if the audience themself is there watching eagerly in their seats. Lando lets a soft chuckle escape his lips, “Obviously,” he echoes, though the glint in his eyes seems to betray him as if he doesn’t seem to agree at all. 

“You know, people think we’re dating.” Y/N seems to blurt out but Lando knows each word is purely intentional. He feigns surprise, mouth hanging agape, “Really?” he says, almost sarcastically. Y/N tries her best to resist the pull of the grin he’s wearing, determined not to give in, she simply sighs dramatically. Her head tilts, nose scrunching slightly. “Yeah, I have no idea why, I’m like drastically out of your league.” she shrugs, her eyes locking back with Lando’s who looks like the words have gotten lost in his mouth. Y/N’s eyebrows raise questionably, teasing on the edge of her lips but he cuts in before she can push further. 

“I honestly think it’s the other way around, I’m really out of your league.” he insists. Neither of them acknowledges the soft pink flush blooming across his cheeks. If Y/N notices, she doesn’t mention it, saving the moment for post-camera teasing.

“How flattering,” Y/N muses, her words laced with sarcasm. “We all know that’s not true.” 

Lando lets a soft chuckle escape his lips, his face lighting up instantly by her witty comment. The energy between them is playful, full of tension they pretend not to notice. It’s just a fake date, right?

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Lando murmurs but just loudly enough that Y/N hears it, her eyes going wide every so slightly, the sudden sweet remark catching her off guard. Perhaps the microphone is doing her a favour by not showing how loud her heart is beating in her chest. To the audience it wouldn’t be anything more than harmless playful flirting, but perhaps it isn’t, not anymore at least. Well, who knows for sure? 

Y/N’s lips are slightly parted as if she wants to say more, the words hanging on the tip of her tongue. But the camera brazenly cuts before Y/N can speak, a moment left unfinished leaving the people wanting more, curse the damn cameraman. 

♡

“Let's talk red flags,” Y/N states, flexing her fingers before resting them on the table in front of her. Lando watches her carefully, far too used to her unpredictableness by now.

 “I’ll go first, once I got emotionally attached to a barista because he remembered my name.” Y/N sighs as if she’s reminiscing the moment thoughtfully. There’s a chuckle from the other side of the table, “Everyone knows your name, Y/N.” Lando grins to which for the first time in the video, Y/N smiles back lightheartedly - a real, unguarded smile.

There’s a beat of silence before she replies, “I see you’ve improved on your flattery skills since our last date.” she muses, rather impressed despite herself. She gives Lando an acknowledging nod, popping a hot chip in her mouth. The atmosphere on the brink of something playful yet experimental as if they’re not quite sure what it could lead to. But that’s just all part of the fun, isn’t it?

“Well, it’s a second date, right? I had to bring my best flirting skills.” he shrugs playfully with a gentle smirk pulling at his lips. Y/N raises her eyebrows, amused but reciprocating his playfulness.

“Of course, you wouldn't want me to walk away, would you?”

“We both know I’d run after you anyways,” he grins, rather proud of his reply. The line catches her off guard. She flushes, caught in his smoothness. For once, he’s the one doing the flirting, and she’s the one left flustered. She lifts her glass of water, takes a sip, and looks away in an attempt to regain her composure. Silence falls. But her facade cracks. She bursts into laughter, water spilling from her mouth. She wipes it with her sleeve, still shaking from the giggles, rolling in her seat.

Lando watches her, both stunned and amused. He glances behind the camera, as if asking the crew for backup, but they only shrug and grin.

Moments laters they’re both laughing together, their joy filling the small shop. 

“I don’t know why that was so funny,” Y/N admits, dabbing her eyes through soft laughter. Lando snorts, “Are you crying?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “One: you’re going to ruin my makeup. And two: you’re going to get me fired, so just answer the damn question.”

Lando can’t keep the lopsided grin off his face that only grows, giving in with little persuasion. His eyes flit over her as he thinks. “I still follow my ex’s dog on instagram.” he finally confesses. Y/N blinks before nodding as if the statment makes perfect sense - it doesn’t, but she plays along.

“That’s valid,” she agrees with a shrug, “The dog didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Exactly, Baxter didn’t do anything wrong.” Lando nods, a spark of agreement on his face.

“Justice for Baxter,” Y/N declares with mock solemnity, raising a fist in playful solidarity before throwing a quick glance at the camera. Her grin is infectious, wide and unfiltered.

Lando watches her from across the table, gaze softening into something unguarded. There’s an easy warmth in his eyes, a quiet admiration that doesn’t need words.The camera catches it just in time, lingering for a beat on the look he gives her. Then it cuts. And this time, the scene doesn’t feel abrupt. It feels right. Complete.

♡

“What’s the most romantic thing you’ve done?” Y/N asks, casually popping a chicken nugget in her mouth, eyes fixed on Lando with curious amusement. Lando pauses, chewing on the question, “I once wrote a love letter, real paper, ink and all.”

Y/N looks impressed but her words claim otherwise, “You know, for a rich guy I expected more.” She flashes a playful smile at him, her eyes lighting up, knowing he’ll rise to the bait.

“Like what?” Lando deflects defensively, eyebrows raised softly in amusement. Y/N shrugs nonchalantly (i cannot believe i just wrote that), her lips pursed as her face scrunches slightly. “I don’t know, like Taylor Swift playing at a birthday party or asking Jude Bellingham to sign a shirt as a gift.” Y/N suggests, unfazed by his defensiveness. Lando considers it for a moment, “That’s. . . creative.” he finally says.

“Thanks, I know.” Y/N agrees flatly, inspecting her nails. Lando chuckles softly and Y/N’s eyes flicker up to him, her mouth tugging to a grin. “Right, anyways, what about you?” Lando asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“I made a playlist for them but turns out they hated Adele.’” Y/N says, pulling a sour face, her bottom lip sticking out glumly. “Well, you really dodged a bullet there.” Lando assures her lightheartedly.

“Ooh, yeah, major red flag.” Y/N agrees with a grimace. “Are you friends with Adele?” she asks, her interest auddenly perked, excitement gleaming in her eyes. She leans forward in her chair eagerly. Lando purses his lips in thought, “I think I’ve met her, once.” he recalls slowly.

“Do you think she’d want to be my friend?” Y/N wiggles her eyebrows in hopeful exaggeration. Lando sends her a pointed look, somewhere between amused and confused. “Are you seriously asking me to ask Adele to go on a date with you?”

“She’s not a random person, she’s Adele!” Y/N protests through laughter. Lando rolls his eyes but he can’t resist the pull of her contagious smile. He can’t help it - her energy is magnetic. “Well, I could try but I don’t think you usually ask your date to set you up with someone else,” he says.

“It’s Adele, though.” she huffs with zero regrets as if the answer is self-explanatory. Lando nods, pretending to understand, though his expression shows otherwise as his eyebrows furrow together. Confused, but he’s got the spirit. The camera lingers for just a second more as their laughter blends together, easy and unforced. Then it cuts, leaving a trace of warmth and ridiculousness hanging in the air, the kind that feels just right for them.

♡

“Okay, serious question,” Y/N says, leaning forward. “BBQ or mayo?”

Lando pauses, debating both options carefully before deciding. “Garlic mayo. Fight me.”

Y/N raises her eyebrows, pretending to coonsider it a worthy option. There’s a long pause before she shrugs, unimpressed. “You kinda give off ‘says they like spice but cries at mild’ energy.” she comments instead. Lando blinks, caught off guard. “That’s kinda accurate, I won’t lie.” he admits without shame.

“I eat hot sauce to feel something.” Y/N replies solemnly.

Smash cut to both of them in front of a bottle of hot sauce, drenching their chicken in reckless abandon. Lando watches Y/N with growing alarm as she drowns her nugget in an obscene amount of hot sauce. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asks, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

Y/N, unbothered, picks up the fiery chicken with absolute confidence. “I’ve been invited back to Hot Ones, twice,” she says, deadpan. Lando stares in silent horror as she takes a massive bite like she’s proving a point. She chews, eyes already watering, and jabs a finger in his direction. “Your go,” she tries to say, though it comes out muffled and garbled, her mouth still full and on fire.

Still, Lando gets the message. Carefully, he picks up his drumstick and takes a bite, cautious and exact, as if precision will somehow spare him. Across the table, Y/N is now fanning her face dramatically with her hand, cheeks flushed, eyes glossy. She lets out a breathless laugh.

“Are you crying now?” she asks between coughs, clearly already losing it. The camera pans slowly to Lando. His face is bright red, eyes glistening with tears. Not from emotion, but from the inferno currently consuming his mouth. 

“I’m not crying, you’re crying,” he says in a raspy voice, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Y/N doubles over in her chair, laughing so hard she has to hide her face in her hands. Lando glares half-heartedly at her, then turns to the camera crew in desperation.

“Do you guys have milk?” he pleads.

The screen fades to black on his suffering, and her laughter.

♡

“Are you okay now?”

Y/N has finally pulled herself together after completely losing it minutes ago, though her cheeks are still flushed and there's a smear of hot sauce on her face that she hasn’t noticed. Across the table, Lando sits bundled up with a cup of chocolate ice cream, scowling at her. “No,” he sulks, drawing his knees up toward his chest in exaggerated misery.

Y/N rolls her eyes with a half-smile. “Anyways. Next question.” Lando groans dramatically, rolling his eyes to the ceiling before plunking the ice cream back on the table and straightening in his seat with a reluctant sigh.

“Okay, shoot,” he says with an exaggerated sigh.

“If you could time travel to any moment in your life, what would it be?”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “Year 9. To stop myself from getting that horrific haircut.” He shudders, as if the memory alone could still haunt him. Y/N snorts, already picturing something tragic. “You looked like a mushroom too?”

“Worse. A bowl.”

She winces in solidarity. “Ooh. Yeah, that’s rough.” She tries to imagine it but comes up short, her brain refusing to conjure an image that awful. “I had a fringe once, if that helps. It was... not okay.”

Lando laughs, a real one this time, lighting up in stark contrast to the ice cream-fueled sulkiness from earlier. “Photos or it didn’t happen,” he challenges.

Y/N immediately shakes her head, eyes wide. “They’ve all been deleted. For the safety of the public.” Lando grins, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying the mental image. The camera cuts right there, on the edge of laughter, with the kind of unspoken rhythm between them that says: if the moment kept going, it might never end.

♡

“Rate the date out of 10,” Y/N says, balancing her own bowl of ice cream like it’s a trophy. “Just so you know, your rating will affect your screen time, so choose wisely.”

Lando thinks for a moment, as he always does. “Solid 9.3,” he decides at last. “The vibes are weird... but I like your company.”

Y/N nods, clearly satisfied with the result. “Thank you,” she says. “I think you’re weird too. You kinda give off ‘ghosts people and then texts them six months later like nothing happened’ energy.”

Lando lets out a laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Only during Mercury retrograde,” he quips.

Y/N freezes for a second, genuinely impressed. “I respect the chaos,” she replies with a solemn nod, as if it’s a personal code of honor.

Lando grins, and without meaning to, Y/N mirrors it. The laughter softens into something quieter, something unspoken passing between them. There’s an odd ache to the moment, a shared sense that the end is creeping in. Neither of them can quite name it, but it’s there in the lingering eye contact, in the silence that doesn’t beg to be filled.

Y/N clears her throat, a little too abruptly, and claps her hands together to break the stillness. “And now, the final question,” she says dramatically, back in host mode. “Would you go on a third date?”

Lando barely misses a beat. “Only if there’s more chips... and no cameras.”

“I can organize that.”

He leans back, ice cream forgotten, smile soft. “Perfect.”

♡

a/n: THANK U SM FOR READING!!! I really hope u enjoyed, remember to stay safe and have a good day :)

taglisttime! (these accs will also be tagged in the other chicken shop fics for other drivers, please message me if you would like to removed/added!

@anamiad00msday @verogonewild @90smania @clarksgf @knivesdoingcartwheels @ezzi-ln4 @evie-119 @strawberry-rainclouds @fastcarsgonyoem @lina505 @guacala @linneaguriii @tamimemo @hydracassiopeiadarablack @willowpains @alireads27 @gigigreens @rifran @fairyjinn @stylesmoonlight12 @kikas-cafe @curlylando

(sorry if i accidentlly left you out or it didn't tag well!!)

[secretl1fe0fm3]

fallingforyou ~ billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been in a month long relationship with billie, your first girlfriend. you’re nervous for your first time with her, but she talks you through it

warnings: smut, soft dom!billie, inexperienced!reader, praise kink, dirty talk, fingering, established relationship, super fluffy at the end (they say their first “i love you” to each other)

an: hiiii, heres yet another fic :P literally got such a good request after posting obsessive and i immediately had to jump on it! anyways, very little plot again, enjoy! (anon i hope this is everything you wanted! i had so much fun writing it, thanks for your request!!! mwah!!<3) really pushing the 1975 agenda with the title hehe

18+ minors dni!!!

1.8k words

The soft crackle of the record player filled Billie’s dimly lit bedroom, the needle gliding smoothly over the vinyl as a slow song played out of the speakers. The scent of her vanilla-scented candle mixed with her perfume filled your nose. You sat cross-legged on her bed, fidgeting slightly, your fingers tangled together in your lap.

Billie is laid out beside you, propped up on one elbow, watching you closely with her bright blue eyes, pulling your attention straight to her. She was dressed in a soft cream button up, and a pair of black boxers, her legs stretched out, one foot bouncing in time with the music.

“You’re quiet,” she murmured, her voice low, cutting through the soft music.

You swallowed, your heart beating a little too fast. “Just… thinking.”

Billie smirked. “About?”

You glanced away, biting your lip. You’d been together for a little over a month now, long enough for kisses between you to turn deeper, for soft touches to linger longer than they used to. And tonight, you both knew where things were heading, your texts you had sent her the previous night hanging above your head with a silent promise of whats to come.

Billie shifted closer, her fingers finding yours, her thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles over your knuckles. “Are you nervous, baby?”

You nodded, exhaling shakily. “Yeah.”

Her teasing smirk softened into something more tender. “Hey,” she whispered, bringing your intertwined hands up to her lips, pressing a kiss against your fingers. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I know,” you murmured, stealing a glance at her. “I want to, I just—” You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Billie’s grin returned, her smirk spreading. “Mm, that’s kinda hot,” she mused to herself, tilting her head. “You wanna learn, baby?”

Your stomach tightened at the way she said it, her voice dripping with unspoken lust. You nodded, breath hitching.

Billie shifted, sitting up so she could cup your face, her thumbs stroking your cheeks. “Then let me teach you,” she whispered, leaning in to brush her lips over yours, placing a gentle kiss on your slightly trembling lips. “We’ll go slow. You just have to trust me, baby. Okay?”

“I do,” you breathed, leaning into her touch.

She smiled, her fingers tracing down your jaw, then your throat, before she pulled you into another kiss, this one deeper, her lips parting just enough for her tongue to graze yours.

“Good girl,” she murmured against your lips, the praise sent a shiver down your spine.

Billie pulled away just enough to look at you, her thumb brushing over your pink lips. Her gaze was dark now, pupils blown wide with lust, but her touch was still gentle and patient.

“You okay?” she murmured, voice low and smooth.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah.”

“Good.” She pressed a lingering kiss to your jaw, then down the side of your neck, her hands sliding over your waist. “I want you to lay back for me, baby.”

Your stomach flipped, but you did as she asked, letting her guide you down against the pillows. She hovered over you, her fingers tracing the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath, palms warm against your skin.

“You’re so soft,” she whispered to herself. Her hands moved slowly, deliberately, pushing your shirt up inch by inch until she could press a kiss on your sternum. “Still doing okay?”

You nodded again, but Billie tutted, her lips curving against your skin. “Words, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you exhaled quickly, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m okay.”

“Good girl,” she praised, her hands sliding lower, toying with the waistband of your shorts. She glanced up at you through her lashes. “Can I take these off?”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling low in your belly at the way she looked at you. “Yes, please.”

Billie grinned, hooking her fingers under the fabric and dragging them down your legs, slow enough to make you squirm. She leaned back for a moment, her gaze raking over you, making you flush pink at her intense stare.

“Fuck,” she murmured, almost like she was talking to herself again. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

Your face burned at the compliment, but before you could respond, her hands were on your thighs, parting them. She settled between them, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing up, slow and teasing.

“You’re shaking,” she noted, her voice softer now, her hands smoothing over your skin. “You nervous or just excited?”

“Both,” you admitted, breath catching as her lips brushed higher.

Billie chuckled, pressing a kiss right where your thigh met your hip. “That’s cute.” Her fingers traced up your inner thigh, featherlight. “I’m gonna touch you now, baby. Just with my fingers. I’ll be gentle, okay?”

You exhaled shakily, nodding. “Okay.”

She watched your face as she moved your panties to the side, her fingers trailing against your core. The first brush of her touch made you whimper, and Billie groaned softly in response.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” she murmured, circling her fingers over your clit in slow strokes. “You feel so good, baby.”

Your hips jerked slightly, overwhelmed by the new sensation. Billie hushed you, her free hand pressing gently against your stomach, rubbing softly over your skin. “Relax, sweetheart. Just feel me.”

You tried, focusing on the slow, deliberate way she played with your clit, her fingers tracing your folds. She kept whispering to you, telling you how good you were, how perfect you felt. When she finally slid one finger inside you, she went slow, watching for any hesitation on your face.

“You’re doing so good for me,” she murmured, kissing your inner thigh.

Billie watched you with a knowing smirk as you threw your head back against the pillows, her fingers moving slowly inside of you. The stretch was new, but her touch was gentle, her thumb never stopping its soft circles over your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” she whispered, pressing deeper, curling her finger just right. The sensation made you gasp, your back arching slightly against the bed.

Billie moaned at the sight, her free hand moving to your hip, pushing it down to ground you. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” she murmured, her voice rough. “So perfect around my fingers.”

You whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as she kept working you open. Billie’s eyes drank in the sight of you falling apart on her finger, her thrusts becoming quicker momentarily.

“You like that, baby?” she asked, her lips ghosting over your inner thigh. She added another finger, slowly, letting you adjust. “You’re taking me so well, pretty girl.”

You could barely form words, nodding weakly as overwhelming pleasure built low in your stomach. Every stroke of her fingers inside you, and the feelings of her thumb circling your clit had heat curling inside you.

Billie smirked. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

You whimpered again, your hips shifting, trying to find more friction. Billie chuckled smugly, pressing her lips against the inside of your knee, nibbling at the skin. “It’s okay, baby. Let go for me. I want to feel you come on my fingers.”

Her words sent you over the edge. Your body tensed, pleasure crashing through you like a wave as your climax hit you, hard. Billie cursed softly, working you through it, her fingers still moving inside of you as she helped you ride out your orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” she murmured, her voice filled with pride. “So pretty when you come for me.”

You shuddered, gasping, barely able to process the feeling of Billie’s lips still pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh, her fingers finally slowing, easing out of you gently.

She moved up your body, kissing your flushed chest, cheeks, and then your lips. Her hand stroking slow, and soothing circles over your hip as she pulled you into her arms, cuddling you against her chest. Your body was still buzzing, your limbs feeling heavy, but Billie just held you, her fingers tracing shapes against your bare skin.

“You okay, baby?” she whispered after a few minutes of silence, her lips brushing against your temple.

You nodded, turning your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I just feel…a lot.”

Billie chuckled softly, her arms tightening around you. “I get it,” she murmured. “You were perfect, you know that?”

Heat spread across your cheeks as you burrowed closer to her, your fingers lightly gripping the fabric of her button up. “I didn’t really know what to expect,” you admitted. “But I feel safe with you.”

Billie’s breath hitched for a second before she sighed, her hand slipping under the hem of your shirt to press warm against your bare back. “Good,” she spoke softly, kissing your forehead. “I never want you to feel anything else with me.”

You tilted your head slightly to look up at her, your heart still pounding, but this time not from nerves or arousal—but with something deep and overwhelming in your chest, something you’d been feeling for a while now but had never said out loud.

Billie was already watching you, her gaze soft and concerned. She reached up, brushing her thumb over your cheek, her brows furrowing like she was trying to read your thoughts.

“What is it, baby?” she whispered.

You swallowed thickly, your fingers curling a little tighter into her top. You could feel it threatening to spill out before you even fully thought it through.

“I love you.”

Your words came out rushed, barely above a whisper, but Billie froze, her breath catching. For a second, you thought maybe you’d said too much, maybe it was too soon, but the sound of Billie’s voice cut through your anxious thoughts.

“Fuck,” Billie breathed, exhaling the words quickly like the air was knocked out of her. She swallowed hard, then let out a quiet, breathless laugh. “Say it again.”

You smiled shyly, your heart hammering in your chest. “I love you.”

Billie groaned dramatically, rolling onto her back and pulling you fully on top of her, her arms locking tight around your waist, pulling you to her chest. “Oh my God,” she mumbled, burying her face in your neck. “You’re actually trying to kill me.”

You giggled at her reaction, warmth spreading through your whole body. “So dramatic.”

Billie pulled back, just enough to look at you again, her hands cupping your face, her eyes full of love.

“I love you too, baby.”

my masterlist

requests are open!!<3

[crescenthistory]

Under Your Mistletoe

Pairing: Barty Crouch Junior x Reader

Synopsis: Barty already loves your belly button piercing – but he loves it even more when you wear a mistletoe jewellery in it for Christmas.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings/tags: SMUT (mdni), afab!fem!reader, established relationship, sex as a form of gift, mistletoe innuendos, oral sex (fem!receiving), orgasm, making love but barty style, marking kink, body worship kind of, no penetrative sex, barty's oral fixation, fluff, one big happy family trope, some christmas blues and references to barty's mental health struggles, barty typical humour, your pov

Note: this is based on a text post i wrote back in october and have since lost – it has been on my mind for a while. merry christmas to all those who celebrate, this is my gift to all the barty girlies 🤍

Barty hates gifts.

You know this, and as his loving partner, it is your duty to find a way around it. To respect his desire not to rip off wrapping paper with watchful eyes on him, while still showering him in some form of love and perceptiveness – to show him he is thought of and wanted. While he may not enjoy most Christmas traditions, that particular bit was important for him to feel and fully believe.

If you could pat yourself on the back, you would, because you thought you truly hit the nail on the head this year.

After three years with Barty, you found yourself happily living together in a shared flat in London. One that was just a few blocks away from the flat Regulus shared with James, where your two friend groups – that had somehow beautifully meshed since seventh year – would be getting together tomorrow for Christmas Day. While Barty pretended to moan and gripe over having to spend time with “the literal dogs”, referring primarily to James and Sirius, it was all an act by now. He was as excited as you were. 

Though, his wish to make the most of your last night together in complete privacy before A Very Potter Holiday emerged was decidedly not an act. That was just Barty’s devotion to you soaring deep in that way he promised he would never get enough of.

You hoped he wouldn’t because you couldn’t even if you tried.

Barty had made you a home cooked meal for the night, a dish called sarmale that his mother used to make around the holidays. Insisting on not being an inch away from you, he had pulled the grandfather chair that usually resides beside the sofa up to the dinner table. “Come here, you,” he had whispered with a gleeful laughter before all but picking you up and placing you in his lap in the chair. 

It took a little effort for you both to sit and eat comfortably, but once you did, any protest you had about the impracticalities melted away – because eating delicious warm food in the wonderfully warm lap of your boyfriend truly was no complaining matter. You sat sideways in his lap so you could both eat off the same plate and chat in between mouthfuls of food, Barty occasionally poking your cheek when it was filled to the brim, repeating that it is the cutest thing he had ever seen. 

Once the food was long since devoured and you had reclined more in your seat, chin resting on Barty’s shoulder as you dazed at him with an undoubtedly lovesick look, you decided it was go time.

Barty’s thumbs snuck beneath the waistband of your matching pajama bottoms, massaging the bare skin there absentmindedly. Laughter had freshly died down on his lips, from something you don’t even remember what was but that left a residue giddiness in your bones. You tilted your chin upwards just enough to steal a kiss from those very lips. He happily obliged you with a growing grin.

“Baby?” you mused. He hummed in response, silently asking what it was. “Would you mind helping me decide on an outfit for tomorrow?”

His grin quickly grew wolfish. “You know I always love helping you get dressed, Dragă. And undressed.”

You rolled your eyes and gave his arm a light slap, as if this was not exactly what you were going for. “Keep it in your pants for now, yeah Junior?” You slid out of his lap, giving him both of your hands to help him get up once you gained your footing.

“Yes, ma’am!” He gave you a fake salute before letting you pull him up. 

With one hand behind him grabbing the top of the chair blindly, he dragged it with him as he trailed behind you into your living room. The door to your shared bedroom was attached to the living room, so you turned to him with a perhaps too-obvious smile, trailing a finger down his chest.

“How about you just get seated here, and then I’ll come out and show you?” You cocked your head to the side, playing innocent.

Barty pretended to pout. “I don’t get to watch you change?” 

“Maybe later if you behave.” You brought the finger up from his chest to flick at his nose, yelping when he caught it and gave your knuckle a light bite. “That is certainly not behaving, B.”

“You like it,” he drawled jokingly, pecking you once before sitting down in the grandfather chair once more, sprawled out with one knee over the armrest. “Please don’t be long, Dragă.”

You shook your head, goofy lovesick look taking over your face once more as you turned around. “I’ll make sure to take longer just because you asked.”

He huffed, deflating further into his seat, but when you turned around to look at him, he had intertwined his fingers over his stomach, jumper ridden up enough to expose his lower midriff. His face was indulging, a form of domestic bliss you never expected to be able to draw from him, but revel in every day.

You blew him a kiss and slipped in past the door to your bedroom, leaving it slightly ajar behind you – enough to be able to talk through, but not enough for him to see you.

Truth be told, you picked out your outfit for the Christmas party a week ago. Even more so, the outfit you would be trying on now was decidedly not the one you will wear tomorrow, nor was it ever an option.

What you would be doing, is showing Barty his gift.

As you pulled out a box beneath your side of the bed, you found the three things needed to pull it off. A short skirt, a cropped silk shirt – and a piece of mistletoe jewellery, perfect for your finally healed belly button piercing.

When you first got the piercing, Barty could not keep his eyes off of it nor his hands off of you. He was a lover of all things alternative and different, an enjoyment you suspected originally derived from an urge to upset his father, but quickly became one of the many ways he could feel safe and truly like himself. While he adored you just the way you were, whenever you would get piercings, tattoos or anything of the sort, Barty would be drooling just a little bit more than usual. 

There were permanent purple and red hickies littered around your stomach now.

For the past few weeks, Barty had been brainstorming all the different pieces of jewellery you could wear once the piercing fully healed, as you both knew there was not a lot of time left. Already he had bought you quite a few different ones, in the colours and styles he knew would match your favourite go-to outfits. 

Somewhere along the line, you got the cheeky idea of a mistletoe jewellery – a kiss under the mistletoe is one Christmas tradition Barty could easily get behind, yeah? At least a kiss underneath your mistletoe.

A slight giggle escaped you at the thought as you brought the jewellery to the ensuite bathroom to rinse it with saltwater and wash your hands before changing them. 

“What’s so funny?” you heard Barty call from the living room, somehow experiencing FOMO within his own flat.

You decided to make it worse. “Was just thinking about something hilarious James said last Christmas.”

A gasp. “Cruel woman. What a cruel, cruel woman you are.”

“You like it,” you replied, parroting his earlier statement. The guffawing laughter told you that you were right.

With slightly trembling fingers, you finally managed to unscrew the standard stainless steel barbell and insert the new mistletoe one. The change didn’t sting at all, and you knew it was fully healed – it actually had been for about two weeks already, but you lied to Barty that it still hurt a little to be able to get away with this.

You knew he would quickly forgive you.

Once the jewellery was fastened, the outfit was quick work. You had put aside a set you thought fit the Christmas vibe – red skirt and a white silk top – but its primary function was showing off your waist, your piercing on full display. As you zipped up the skirt, you began to prepare Barty from his place outside. 

“I only really have one outfit to show you,” you called, just loud enough to be sure he would hear you, but still allowing some teasing to slip into your voice. “I quite like it, but I don’t think it is quite the one to wear tomorrow now that I think of it.”

“I swear to Merlin, baby, if you walk out in just lingerie, I will ravish you.”

“If I walked out in lingerie, it would have been with the intention of you ravishing me,” you said through a laugh. “But no, you can dream on, B.”

You could hear him shifting in his seat, undoubtedly sprawled out more and more with each passing second. You buttoned only two of the buttons on the silk shirt – enough to be tempting, but not enough to distract from the true star of the show. 

“Whatever you want to wear, you’ll look stunning,” Barty added then, a sincerity in his voice on the off-chance that it was insecurity and not teasing he heard in his voice. You were quite certain he was onto you by now, but the attentiveness still made your heart bloom. 

With a quick final look in the mirror, you decided it was everything you needed it to be.

You laid your hand on the door handle, beginning to slowly drag it open. “How stunning are we talking, baby?” you asked with a teasing lilt. “Good enough to eat?”

You stepped into the room, walking with measured, steady steps towards Barty, feeling every bit like the lioness he made you out to be.

You were right, in your absence he seemed to have unhinged his every joint, legs and arms strewn everywhere over the grandfather chair. Yet the second his eyes fell on you, he gathered them all together as he shot up in his seat, feet planting firmly on the ground.

“Baby…” he trailed off, eyes going all over your body.

You stood about two metres in front of him, hip kicked to the side as you allowed your body and midriff to be on display. His mouth was agape in admiration, but you could identify the moment he noticed the piercing. Shock and pleasure mixed on his face and something akin to a moan escaped him just at the sight. Barty’s hands gripped his knees with a force that only served to excite you further.

“Baby,” Barty groaned then, eyes glued onto the mistletoe jewellery. “You truly are a gift, aren’t you? A pretty little wrapped up gift.”

You let out a breathy laugh, already affected by his words. “Just for you, my love,” you murmured as you stepped closer, almost within his reach. “Figured you might want to share a kiss beneath the mistletoe?” You lathered faux innocence over your words, quickly contrasted by your growingly smug smile as you took in his flustered and heated expression.

At last, Barty’s eyes shot up to meet yours, his beautiful irises having given way to darkness. “May I?” he asked, not waiting for an answer as he shifted in his seat.

When he moved, you expected him to come to stand before you, kiss you and maybe move you to the bedroom. You should have known your boyfriend better. 

Barty slid directly off the chair and onto his knees, landing with a soft thump before you. His hands shot up to grab your hips, steadying himself as his chest came almost flush with your thighs, never once breaking eye contact as he moved. 

You shuddered at the sight. Barty Crouch Junior, with his messy dark and green hair, his eyebrow and nose piercings, his rugged yet dangly form and dark clothes, on his knees in front of you, holding onto you for dear life.

“Please,” you whispered in response.

Still with laboured breath, he flashed his white teeth with the width of his smile. “My lovely, lovely gift of a girl,” he murmured, squeezing your hips. Barty let his gaze trail from your eyes down your neck, over your semi-exposed chest, finally coming eye to eye with his eternal temptation.

He let out a light growl before closing the distance to press a wet and hot kiss right beneath your naval, his nose brushing against the mistletoe. 

In an instant, you moved your hands to place one on his shoulders to steady yourself and tangle the other into the mess of his hair. “Beautiful, beautiful.” Barty whispered praises as his lips trailed to the left and right, reactivating the hickies he had left there the other night, creating a beautiful night sky for the mistletoe to rest against. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his ministrations despite the heat pooling in your gut, tugging slightly at his hair. “What would you do if I actually wanted to wear this tomorrow and you’re defiling my skin like this?” you tease.

With his lips still attached to your skin, just a breath above the waistband of your skirt, Barty looked up to meet your gaze through his eyelashes. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel his warm smile against you. “You aren’t?” he asked in faux surprise, nipping at the skin with his teeth. “I should hope you would, then we could show everyone what a wonderful gift giver you are.”

He sucked particularly hard on the delicate skin then, drawing a shaky sigh from you – clearly his intention. “I think this is a gift reserved only for you, my love,” you managed to whisper.

“Good.” Another kiss. “Doesn’t mean we can’t let the world know, though.”

If you had any good piece of banter to respond to that with, it was erased from your mind by the feeling of his hands on your hips moving to dip his thumbs into either side of your waistband. Tantalisingly slow, Barty dragged your skirt further down, letting his tongue and teeth roam over every inch of newly exposed skin.

His breath was hot against you as he placed tentative, open-mouthed kisses, but he couldn’t fool you – you could feel his desperation in the way his fingertips dug into you as if they were chasing bone and the way his teeth scratched against you in his rush towards his next kiss.

When he reached your panties with his thumbs, he gave you a wicked grin in between kisses before hooking his fingers into those as well, and with a flush pulling them down so the clothes could pool around your ankles. A genuine groan escaped Barty at the sight of your bare core, want dripping down onto your thigh. You used your hand on his shoulders for support and you stepped out of your skirt and underwear, kicking them to the side. His hands found your skin immediately after assisting your undressing, but he let one explorative pointer finger come up between your folds, gathering the slick, just barely missing your clit as he brought it back to his face.

Maintaining eye contact, he stuck his tongue out and licked your arousal off of his finger, squeezing his eyes shut and moaning at the taste. 

He looked downright unholy.

“Fuck, baby, you are fucking everything,” he groaned, squeezing your hips.

“You like it?” you asked breathlessly, hands in his hair tugging without thinking.

A wicked grin accompanied his wink. “More than like.” Barty sunk further down on his knees so that his face was right in front of your naked cunt. His left hand came up to splay out across your stomach, thumb barely brushing your mistletoe jewellery when he dragged it back and forth across the skin, leaving goosebumps in his trace.

“When under a mistletoe, right?” he asked.

Before you had the chance to respond, Barty dipped his head forward the last few centimetres needed and delved his tongue in between your folds, licking a clean stripe up your pussy. He circled your clit once he reached the top before flattening his tongue out for another broad stroke. A gasp escaped you and you parted your legs further on instinct – Barty used the momentum to hook your left leg over his shoulder, both arms securely holding your hips in his grip, not allowing you to falter for even a second.

Barty did indeed kiss you, lips wrapping around your clit to suck, teeth already grazing you cheekily in that way that promised more. Thrills were shooting through you, an almost tickling sensation that spread throughout your bloodstream until it settled into a content humming. Barty’s tongue, his lips, his touch and his arms were warm and strong against you, steady and so desperately devoted. His movements were in sync with yours, having learned well enough by now how your body ticks, and how to get what he wants – which is to devour you – while making you feel as good as possible.

He moved further down with his mouth, focusing his tongue around your entrance and moving his head subtly back and forth so his large nose nudged continuously against your clit. The soft moans spilled from your lips, spurring him on; you knew better than to keep them in by now, feeling fully empowered and comfortable in his affection. 

Barty curled his tongue against you, dipping in to graze at the soft spot just inside of you, causing you to grip his hair tighter. When you pulled at his hair more harshly, a satisfied groan escaped him, top lip vibrating against you in a wonderfully delicious way. “Fuck, Barty,” you whispered and gasped when his teeth touched your unhooded clit as his lips curled back into a smile.

“Good enough kiss for you, Dragă?” he teased as he drew a quick breath before letting his hands grasp your arse more securely to bring your cunt flush against his face, drawing blasphemous sounds from you in an instant.

He ate at you hungirly, tongue alternating every second between broad and pointed strokes, drawing quick figures over your clit before letting his nose take over as he dipped inside of you. His face must surely be completely covered in you by now, and the thought made you clench your thighs even more. Barty hummed purposefully against you, moving his hair just right and basking in all that is you; his favourite gift.

It was clear he could tell you were closing in on your orgasm from the smugness in how he ate you out and the increasing strength in his hold on you. With your leg over his shoulders digging into his back and your hands on his neck and shoulders clinging onto him for dear life, you would have thought it was enough – but Barty had your hips fully circled in in his grasp, holding the small of your back and your backside cheekily as he ensured your complete safety. 

“Come for me, baby,” he whispered against you, making sure his lips moved right against your clit.

You were shivering and shaking in his grasp, laughing at the intensity of your orgasm while standing upright in the middle of your living room. He laughed too, but doubled down in his efforts, practically burying his face within you. 

A long, guttural moan filled the room as you almost crushed Barty’s head against you – just how he likes. Your eyes were scrunched shut and your mind was completely elsewhere as he began massaging the flesh he had been abusing mere moments ago, pressing featherlight kisses up the length of your cunt and continuing above it.

“Absolutely perfect.” He pressed a final kiss right beneath your naval. You sighed in complete satisfaction, going increasingly limp as he stood back up to his full height, holding you slumped against him. You were certain your eyes must be dazed as they met his, and he seemed to drink it up, a new goofy expression mixing with his hungry one.

“I take it you approve of the mistletoe?” you mumbled, not expecting your words to be so slurred, not having realised that your mouth had gone numb. He saw the surprise in your face and you both giggled together, foreheads pressing against each other.

Barty gave you a soaring kiss to the lips this time, not shying away despite the absolute mess you had made of his face. You couldn’t bring yourself to care either – on the contrary, you parted your lips to let him take your mouth in full, mixing your cum and spit between smiles.

“You’re bloody insane, you know that?” Barty laughed breathlessly between kisses, holding you impossibly close to his body.

You bit back the “I reckon that’s why you like me so much”, knowing the joke would prompt a tirade about all the things he loves about you. Instead you smiled happily, giving him sweet kisses in quick succession.

“Maybe I just wanted to show my boyfriend what a merry Christmas it could be?”

Barty hummed in approval. As he felt more secure in your steady legs, he let one of his arms leave the encirclement of your back for his fingers to palm your cheek, carding lazily through your hair. “Might have to get a mistletoe tattoo myself now as a thank you.”

You guffawed, throwing your head back with laughter, and he took advantage of the moment to begin kissing down the length of your neck with an open mouth and explorative tongue. The laugh quickly turned into a content sigh.

“We would never leave the bedroom,” you commented, pretending to be concerned by his suggestion.

“And what a wonderful life that would be indeed.” Barty came back up in front of your face, eyes alight with foolish love and mischief. “Speaking of bedroom…?”

You barely had the time to nod once before he had bent down to hike you up into his arms bridal style and ran off towards the bedroom with you, cackling like a madman.

It was a merry Christmas, after all.

[fresitasmoribund]

i’m utterly OBSESSED with your model wolfstar x reader posts

could we potentially get a part 3 (maybe where we are shooting another intimate one bc the last one did so well and sirius convinces remus to do the modelling and let him work the camera - which he does, except this shoot has a far more provocative rougher vibe that the other one and at one point we’re on our knees and stuff and then bam.. smut) 🤭🤗❤️

this took forever im so sorry!

-`♡´- part: 1, 2

-`♡´- pairing: Poly!Wolfstar x Fem!Reader

-`♡´- contains: model!sirius, model!reader, photographer!remus, established wolfstar, modern au, praise, smut, oral (male receiving), fingering

-`♡´- warning: hair pulling (reader has pullable hair? LOL idk hair texture isn’t specified), fingers in mouth

-`♡´- masterlist

-`♡´- word count: 6k

The loft is quiet, save for the creaking of floorboards beneath your heels. You cross your arms, unsure if it is the chill in the air or the thought of seeing them again that raise the goose pimples along your skin.

It had been weeks since that shoot – weeks of confusion and unasked questions. You didn’t know what the three of you were. Nevertheless, the first shoot had been a wild success. Your agent hasn’t stopped singing its praises. “You’re in high demand,” she’d chirped over the phone while confirming this follow-up shoot. “Black and Lupin? Absolute magic with you.”

But the aftermath of the first shoot had still left you feeling… you weren’t quite sure. They’d sent gifts, messages congratulating you, and even a bottle of wine with Sirius’ sprawling handwriting across a tag that read To our muse. Sweet, sure, but what did it mean for the three of you?

And then there was the box. It showed up on your doorstep a week after the shoot. You’d stared at the box for a long moment before opening it – heart pounding – wondering if this was some final gesture to put the shoot behind you… or if it meant something else entirely.

It was the exact set you’d worn during that intimate whirlwind, folded neatly inside. A card in Remus’ script read: Just in case you ever fancy wearing it again.

That was all. No calls. No new texts. No mention of the way Remus’ words seared your skin, or the way Sirius’ mouth had you crying out in pleasure. You concluded that the near-magnetic tension that had pulled the three of you together was only temporary fun. Now, you were booked to face them again.

Your stomach fluttered. What happens this time?

Shadows play along the exposed brick walls, lending the place a rugged feeling. It was a far cry from the chic air of your last photoshoot. And – despite the awkwardness that pulses beneath the surface – they greet you warmly. Remus smiles as Sirius opens his arms for an embrace you can’t stop yourself from being wrapped in. He smells just as you remembered – like a sweet smoky leather.

“Everything okay?” Remus asks as you take a step back from Sirius.

You nod, grateful for the assurance. You’re trying so hard not to smile like an idiot, the corners of your lips twitching. The last shot was so intense, so unpredictable, that this anticipation was getting to you.

“You look perfect,” Sirius chimes in, walking behind you to better appreciate the backless dress you’re wearing.

You look over your shoulder before you can stop yourself. “Planning on buying me this one too?”

You immediately regret what you’d just blurted out. You had only meant it as a joke, not to call out either of them for their leaving you in the dark. A deeper part of you rejoiced in the way Sirius’ eyes widened just a tad, and the intake of breath from the man in front of you.

“Tempting,” was all Sirius mumbles as he walks past you, and he briefly steals another glance at you. You don’t have it in you to apologize, but you do go silent and stare at the floor. But apologize for what, exactly?

As he settles into the chair provided for the pictures, he breaks your sudden trance. “Shall we get straight into it?”

Looking up, Remus gives you a reassuring smile and nod, which you return. You move toward Sirius, and upon your approach, he spreads his legs and looks up at you with that wicked grin of his.

“Up you go, gorgeous,” he murmurs, his hand reaching out to help you onto his lap. You hesitate for a moment, but the pull is too strong. You slide into position, sitting on one of his thighs feeling the warmth of his body beneath you. One of his hands immediately find their place on your hip, the other on your thigh – it’s light, but purposeful.

It’s an intimate start, but it’s nothing you haven’t done together before. Still, as you settle in and Remus’ camera flashes, you try not to think too much on the weight of his hands. You’re all warm and flushed, and you feel as though your blood is boiling beneath your skin. He’s testing the waters with every inch of fabric his fingers roam over. But when you meet his gaze, the playful glint in his eyes deepens, and everything stills. His hand drifts to your back and your muscles tense, causing you to twitch. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh, and you forgive him for his cruelty as he “adjusts” one of the straps of your dress. You swallow, trying to focus on the task at hand. But the tension between you and Sirius is thick – so thick that you can almost taste it.

As you adjust your position, you turn your head toward the camera. Sirius leans in closer, his breath brushing against your ear, and you freeze. He murmurs, his voice low and rougher than before.

“I miss having you like this.” The words wrap around you as you look back to him.

Is my heart giving out? You swear it is.

You were too distracted by the confession you’ve been craving that you weren’t paying attention to his wandering hands. He pulls a gasp from you when he squeezes your breast, your eyes widening.

“Sirius.” Remus’ tone is a clear warning. For a second, you’d almost forgotten what you were here for.

“I’m being good,” Sirius replies casually, but he throws you a wink. Just as it had never happened, his hands slide down to your waist.

His lips hover just shy of yours, your breaths mingling. You fight every fiber of your being not to close the gap, but the moment is gone too quickly. He leans back, his hands still on your body. The room feels significantly smaller, and you shift in his lap. As you adjust your posture to have your body fully facing the camera, his hands follow every moment. He guides you with a casual expertise that betrays how much he’s paying attention. His fingers slide along your thighs, and you try to mask your confusion as he lifts one of your thighs to spread your legs.

 You snap your head to look at him, as if to call his bluff. But you should know better, considering who you’re modeling with. Just what are you planning, Sirius Black?

His gaze is locked on yours, giving no clear indication of what he’s really planning. You gasp involuntarily again when you feel the coolness of his rings against your warm flesh, his thumb brushing along the crease of your thigh. The heat rushes to your cheeks as the sound of the camera shutter stops. His fingers slip under your underwear, but he stops before making any contact with your sex – much to your dismay. He glances up at Remus, his grin widening.

“Does this pose work for you, Moony?” It’s way too casual.

Finally detaching your eyes from Sirius’ face, you take note of how stiff Remus is, his camera lowered. His fingers twitch where they rest on the camera, and he exhales slowly. Sirius’ fingers flex against your skin, but Remus schools his features into something neutral. Dragging his gaze from where Sirius’ hand is, he finally looks him in the eyes.

There’s a long pause, and you try your best to keep your breathing in check. Sirius’ fingers trace small, lazy circles against your skin. It tingles and spreads into a shiver curling up your spine. You’re waiting for some big reaction from Remus – for him to cancel the shoot and leave, or set his camera down and join you two. Instead, he clears his throat and shifts his weight.

“Pretty sure that’s not part of the poses we planned for,” he murmurs, though there’s a rough edge to his voice that exposes how tightly wound he is. His gaze flickers to you, assessing, searching for any sign that you want this to stop. But you don’t move away. Should I be moving away? Despite what transpired the previous time you’d seen them; did you have the right to want more from them?

Sirius only hums in response, a deep, satisfied sound.

“Mm, thought it was,” he muses, his fingers twitching against you before – mercifully – he withdrawals his touch, pulling back with a slow drag of his hand.

Sirius guides you effortlessly, and you follow the silent direction to straddle his lap. You press your chest against his, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Sirius exhales, tilting his head so that his lips brush against your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut when you feel just the slightest pressure of his lips. The camera clicks, but the sound barely registers over the rapid pulse of your heartbeat.

Sirius’ hands slide down your back, past the curve of your waist, resting firmly beneath the swell of your backside. He shifts beneath you, pressing you against his bulge, and the fleeting friction has you biting your lip to hold back the sound that threatens to escape.

Remus makes a strangled noise – something caught between exasperation and disbelief. “Sirius.”

I should be pleading for forgiveness, not aching for him to fill me while I’m in his boyfriend’s lap.

Sirius only chuckles and makes quick work of pulling your dress over your hips, exposing more of your skin to the cool air of the loft. Your breath hitches as he continues to press you down against him. The slow, deliberate roll of his hips pulls a startled yelp from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to meet his movements, mewling and rocking against him.

“I haven’t even touched you properly,” he whispers to you. “Missed us that much?”

You can only nod. He drags out an “aww”, mocking pout deepening just to make your face heat more.

You wonder if Remus was able to take enough shots before things spiraled past the realm of professionalism, but the thought barely lingers. A loud chorus of yes, yes, yes drowns out any rational thought as Sirius’ mouth finds the curve of your jaw. The warmth of his slow, open-mouthed kisses combining with the consistent pressure against your core have you crying out pathetically. Your hidden anticipation was revealed by the smallest attention to the space between your legs.

Your fingers twitch against his shoulders, gripping instinctively as another roll of his hips shoots through you. He’s relentless, guiding you into the motion with a firm grip. His lips move down the column of your throat, and just as his teeth scrape against your pulse point—

Remus makes a noise – caught between a sharp inhale and an incredulous scoff. He drags a hand down his face, his patience past the point of wearing thin.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath, though the way he adjusts his stance betrays that he’s not entirely unaffected either. “We’re done with this shoot.”

That’s when Sirius seemed to remember that this was, in fact, a photoshoot – not an excuse to have you grinding against each other. With a sigh that was more performative than genuine, he tilts his head back and shifts his attention back to the camera. While you nervously straighten yourself up, there was a glint in his eye that caught your attention.

“You know what?” Sirius drawls, stretching lazily before flashing Remus a wicked grin. “I’ve always wanted to be behind the camera.”

Remus stills. His brows lift, the only outward sign of his hesitation, but it’s enough for Sirius to pounce. His hands finally relinquish their hold on your ass as he guides you off his lap, standing in one smooth motion. You blink up at him and awkwardly pull your dress down, still feeling the lingering heat of his touch. He doesn’t let go of you just yet, smoothing his hands down your arms before guiding you toward Remus.

Remus eyes Sirius warily, suspicion flickering across his features. “I don’t think—”

Sirius tuts, reaching for the camera hanging from Remus’ neck. “Think less, my love.”

He slides the strap over Remus’ head and lifts the camera into his own hands, testing the weight of it like a prize. His smile is wolfish as he steps back, making a shooing motion. “Go on, Moony. Get close to our girl.”

Our girl.

Fighting back the biggest grin, you glance at Remus as he exhales. He shakes his head in reluctant amusement before his eyes flicker to yours. There’s something so him about it – the careful consideration, the quiet war between curiosity and restraint. You tilt your head, offering a small smile, and that’s all it took for him to fold. He sighs in defeat, moving toward you despite mumbling something under his breath. His first instinct is to fix your hair, sending a pool of heat to your stomach. You mumble a soft thank you.

Sirius raises the camera, adjusting the focus before snapping a quick picture of Remus just standing there, looking unsure. The shutter click echoes through the loft.

Remus tenses. “Oi, don’t waste film.”

Sirius hums, glances at the digital preview before pressing the Playback button.

“Wouldn’t call that a waste,” he mumbles appreciatively, his eyes roaming hungrily over the picture. He turns the camera toward you. “Back me up here, love. Tell our Remus how gorgeous he is.”

Our, our, our… I could die from this.

You nod, your smile widening. “He is.”

Remus lets out a scoffing laugh, ducking his head for a moment and running a hand through his hair. “I’m not photogenic.”

You can’t help shooting him a sharp look, Sirius doing the same.

“That’s enough of that—"

“You’re ridiculous is what you are,” Sirius chides.

Remus raises a brow. “What’s ridiculous is us not having enough pictures for this campaign,”

Sirius ignored him entirely, looking at you instead. “Put your head on his chest.”

“Yes, sir.” You giggle and stepping closer to rest your cheek against the firm plane of Remus’ chest. You hear the steady thump of his heartbeat; feel the way his breath catches ever so slightly at the contact. Sirius clicks his tongue.

“Not close enough.”

You barely have time to react before Sirius reaches out, pressing two fingers against the side of your face to guide you until you’re flush against Remus. It’s not just an adjustment – it’s a silent push to something else. You don’t resist.

The camera clicks.

You slip into action, your fingers grazing over the fabric of Remus’ shirt, tracing the curve of his bicep. You don’t have to think about it anymore – about how to move, how to look. It comes naturally now, your body responding to the weight of Sirius’ gaze behind the lens, to the way Remus’ breathing has begun to stutter. He’s tense, his hands hovering awkwardly at his sides.

“Touching her won’t kill you, Moony.”

Remus swallows, his jaw tightening. There’s a pause. He finally lifts a hand, placing it against your head. His touch is warm, grounding. You relax into it, sighing softly as your fingers trail further up his arm – relishing the heat of his skin beneath the soft fabric.

The camera clicks, but you’re barely registering the sound. The warmth of Remus’ fingers still lingers against your head. Sirius hums in satisfaction behind the lens, but you can sense his restlessness – he wants more.

Remus exhales through his nose when you meet his gaze again, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he flexes his fingers against your side. He tests the weight of his touch with a gentle squeeze, and you respond by standing closer to him. He adjusts his stance, rolling his shoulders back slightly. He’s starting to play along, you notice.

The moment breaks when you can’t help letting out a nervous giggle.

He chuckles too, his brows pinching together. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, pressing your lips into a line. “You’re just—” You pause, searching for the words.

“Hopeless?” Sirius suggests, and you roll your eyes.

“I was going to say ’sweet’,” you correct.

Remus scoffs, shaking his head, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “That’s worse.”

“Be possessive about it.” Sirius sighs, shaking his head playfully.

Remus clears his throat, and, before he can overthink it, he cups your jaw. The pad of his thumb sweeps along your cheekbone, testing. Your lips part at the touch, and for a second – his eyes flicker down.

Sirus’ grin is sharp behind the lens. Click.

“Better.”

The more shots Sirius takes, the more Remus falls into it. He strokes his thumb over your jaw, then along the curve of your bottom lip. The touch is featherlight, and yet it has your breath stuttering. With every touch, all you can think about is the Sirius was touching you earlier. You’re not stupid, you know that wasn’t all you were getting today (at least, you hope it isn’t). You appreciate how cautious he’s being, but you honestly wish Remus would just bend you over that desk nearby and fuck you hard.

The camera clicks – again. And again. Each sound punctuating the heat settling thick between you. You can still feel your arousal every time your thighs rub together.

Sirius is in his element – framing the shots, shifting angles, adjusting the focus – but not without an ulterior motive. You can hear it in the way he hums, feel it in the way his eyes are practically devouring every interaction through the viewfinder.

“Mm,” he muses, lower the camera just a tad. “Something’s missing.”

Remus exhales, pressing your back closer against his chest involuntarily. Your head feels like it’s spinning.

Sirius tilts his head, considering.

“Pull her hair, Moony.”

Despite how coolly he said it, your skin prickles.

Remus freezes. His brows lift, his entire body locking up. “Sorry?”

“You heard me,” Sirius replies smoothly, raising the camera again. “Give it a little pull.”

You feel Remus stiffen as you turn around to face him. He blinks once, twice – then lets out an incredulous scoff. “I’m not—”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius interrupts. “You love doing it to me.”

There’s that implication that makes you dizzy once again. The casual implication that you were truly a part of their lives. You had tried to stop yourself from fantasizing before, to save yourself from the discontent that looms over you.

Remus’ jaw clenches, and he glances down at your wide eyes. He makes no move to obey.

You meet his gaze, offering a reassuring nod.

“It’s okay.” You place a hand on his chest.

His throat bobs with a swallow. His reluctance lasts only a second longer before his hand slides up, placing it carefully on your hair. He tugs – not too hard, testing the motion and your reaction.

The pull makes your scalp tingle, a shiver running down your spine. Your eyes flutter shut briefly as a shaky sigh escapes your lips. It’s good – but not enough. You blink up at him, your lips parted, and that’s when you see it. A shift.

Remus sees you. He sees the way your breath quickens, the slight tilt of your chin, the way you’re barely restraining yourself from pushing into it.

So, he tightens his grip.

He roughly pulls your head back, exposing the curve of your throat. Your mouth falls open with a soft, breathy moan. The sound had just left you when the shutter goes off - click, click, click rapid and so eager. Sirius exhales a satisfied laugh.

“There we go,” he murmurs. “Fucking gorgeous.”

Remus doesn’t respond. His breathing is heavier now, his grip unwavering as his free hand comes up to hover near your jaw again.

“Chin,” Sirius directs. “Grip it.”

Remus hesitates for only a moment before his fingers press beneath your chin, tilting your fave toward. His thumb skins along your jawline, rough and calloused. Sirius lets out a hum of approval.

“Now…” Sirius drags out the word, considering. “Put your thumb in her mouth.”

Remus’ eyes barely glances up at Sirius, his thumb dragging over your bottom lip slowly. You part your lips for him without thinking, causing him to inhale sharply through his nose. His thumb ghosts over your teeth before resting on your tongue, the pad pressing down ever so slightly.

Sirius groans softly behind the camera. ”That’s it.”

The moment is charged beyond words, Remus’ breathing goes shallow. His fingers flex subtly against your jaw as your lips close around his thumb. A quiet moan vibrating from the back of your throat. He lets his thumb linger, just barely moving it in and out of your mouth, watching your lips cling to him each time. You respond eagerly, swirling your tongue around the pad of his thumb, tasting the salt of his skin and silently begging him to push just a little further.

When he finally drags his thumb free, your lips chase him slightly before you catch yourself. Remus’ thumb glistens, and you can see the faint tremble in his fingers. Meeting his gaze, you can almost feel the way his entire body thrums with the effort not to devour you.

“Alright, Moony,” Sirius says in a voice that’s almost thoughtful. “Take a seat.”

He jerks his chin toward the worn chair he’d been using earlier, its placement perfect beneath the soft, diffused light from the window.

Remus doesn’t argue, and maybe he can’t. His legs mechanically carry him across the room, and he drops heavily into the chair. His eyes don’t leave yours as his hands rest uselessly on his thighs like he doesn’t know what to do with them. And maybe it’s the heat burning beneath your skin that’s making you feel so daring. Or the look on his face – wanting and trying so hard to behave.

But, whatever it is, it pulls you down to your knees in front of him without a second thought. You hear Sirius’ quick chuckle to your right as he moves to stand behind Remus. There’s a click as he adjusts the settings, framing the scene quickly.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream.” The praise is thick with something heavier than amusement.

Your palms find purchase on Remus’ knees, and you feel the way his thighs tense beneath your touch. He leans forward slightly, like he’s physically incapable of resisting you. You tilt your chin up at him, waiting.

His hand darts out, curling around your jaw – not rough, but firm enough that your breath catches. You just barely register the way his thumb presses into your cheek before his lips smash into yours, your surprised gasp swallowed into the heat of his mouth. The chair creaks beneath him as he leans forward. It doesn’t take long for you to melt into it, meeting his near-desperate pace with as much fervor. Your hands brace against his thighs for balance, mind spinning. Teeth clash, and you whine when he takes your lips between his teeth. Even Sirius, who would have spat out some teasing comment, stills. You don’t hear the camera going off, just the intermingling of your breaths with Remus’.

When Remus finally pulls back, both of you are flushed and panting. He subtly returns the smile you didn’t even realize was lighting up your face.

Sirius exhales a laugh, shaky and sharp. “Don’t stop on my account.”

The camera resumes its steady rhythm again, clicking steadily. Remus blinks, swallowing hard, but doesn’t move away. He stays leaning forward, his hands still cradling your jaw. You press your cheek into one his palms. You’re breathing hard too, chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. There’s a bloom of warmth in your gut that you can’t tame, not with him looking at you like that.

You slide your hands up his thighs, grounding yourself in the feel of his jeans beneath your fingertips. The muscles seem to jump under your touch.

Remus leans back into the chair with a shaky exhale, dragging a hand through his hair. His eyes gleam, the flush in his cheeks high and hot.

You shift closer instinctively, your hands sliding further up his thighs to chase the warmth radiating off him. His knees fall open slightly, and the silent invitation as your breath catching. Sirius approaches him from behind, camera hanging forgotten around his neck now. He leans down, pressing a kiss to Remus’ flushed cheek. You see Remus turn his head almost reflexively, and Sirius rewards him with a soft peck on the lips.

“Look at her,” Sirius instructs, mouth still ghosting close. “On her knees for you.”

And the weight of his gaze makes you clench around nothing – your pulse fluttering. It’s a hungry gaze that makes your hands slide higher. They stroke up the insides, seeking more of his stuttering breaths as you stroke your thumbs over the seams of his jeans. You glance up through your lashes, your fingers digging lightly into the denim at the top of Remus’ thighs.

Sirius circles back around the chair and lifts the camera over Remus’ shoulder. He whispers soft praises, but the only sound you can focus on is the breathing of the man before you. But you want more, so your hands roam higher – pawing at the bulge straining against his jeans.

“Fuck,” Remus breaths, looking down at you with dilated pupils.

You don’t know what possessed you, but something compels you to lean forward and press your cheek gently against his thigh. He freezes as your finger begins to trace the outline of his belt buckle.

“Can I?” you ask – softly and sweetly – dragging your cheek up and back down just a tad.

His gaze flicks between your face and the way your finger lingers on his belt.

“You don’t need to ask,” Remus answers, a little more strained than he probably intended.

You can’t help but smile at his response. Slowly – deliberately – you undo the buckle with a soft clink of metal. The sound feels obscenely loud in the quiet. Remus exhales through his nose as the fabric parts with a soft scrape of teeth. He lifts his hips, ever so controlled, and you ease his jeans and boxers down his hips. When the fabric clears the tops of his thighs, you watch as he frees his cock. Your lips part instinctively, the thought of having him in your mouth nearly makes your mouth water. Remus pants lightly above you, his jeans loose around his thighs and your hands resting just shy of indecency.

“Fuck, look at you,” Sirius whispers mostly to himself, camera now abandoned.

“Go on,” Remus says huskily, curling his left hand into a fist and letting it rest on his thigh. “Use those pretty hands of yours.”

And you didn’t need to be told twice.

The heat of him settles into your palm the moment you wrap your hand around his cock. Heavy and flushed; it twitches slightly against your touch. You trace your thumb along a thick vein running to the tip, smearing the precum already gathering there. He pulses in your grasp, and your brows pinch as you drink in the sight.

A low grunt rumbles from Remus; the subtle rolling of his hips pulls you back to the moment. You lean forward, letting a thick string of spit fall slowly onto him, catching the light as it lands. You smooth it down with your palm and begin with exploratory strokes. Slowly, deliberately – to coax the expletives and breathy catches from his lips. You’re cautious, not adhering to a steady rhythm just for learning him. Just to watch the way his chest rises, the way his mouth parts with every pass of your hand.

“Twist a little at the end,” Sirius murmurs, his voice warm against the shell of Remus’ ear. “He likes that.”

And so, you do. You glance up, eyes meeting his, whispering a soft “Like this?” without thinking.

You earn from him the most delicious sound you’ve ever heard a man make. His head tilts back, jaw going slack.

“Yeah.” Remus’ hips twitch up into your hand. “Like that.”

You try again, slower, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh while your wrist rolls. His hands, tense on his thighs, inch toward you until one finds its way to your hair.

“Fucking hell,” Sirius breathes, and you can hear the smile in it. “She’s so good for you, isn’t she?”

Your lips part, breath warm against Remus’ skin. The praise flutters low in your stomach, encouraging you to increase your pace just enough to keep him right at the edge. You glance up just in time to see Sirius shrug off his jacket with an elegance no man should have. The leather slides from shoulders, revealing the ink along his forearms as he rolls his sleeves to the elbow.

He stays behind Remus, hands skimming briefly over Remus’ shoulders before he leans in. He mouths at Remus’ jaw – slow drag of lips and barely-there teeth. Remus slants his head instinctively, offering more, but Sirius only lingers for a moment. His eyes are on you.

Your palm glides over Remus’ length, grip firmer at the base, thumb teasing the head each time you crest. He swears again, the syllable caught somewhere between pleasure and disbelief. His thighs tense beneath your hands – one flexes, the other shifts wider.

You lean closer, lips brushing the sensitive underside of his shaft, just to watch him jerk. His hips buck and he mutters something that breaks halfway in his throat.

You sense Sirius before you see him – the shift in the air. His footsteps brush against the floor as he lowers himself. When he kneels beside you, a pleased hum in his throat, your body tilts toward his heat.

Remus’ hand stays in your hair, thumb grazing your temple. You can feel him twitch again in your hand.

Sirius brushes a finger over your face reverently, trailing the edge of your cheekbone before dropping lower. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, planting it there as he settles just behind you.

“You always smell too damn good.” His voice is low with amusement, his fingers finding your hip like it belongs there. “It’s criminal, really.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the breath catching in your throat when his mouth ghosts closer to your neck.

You blink up at Remus through your lashes, and he stares back with glassy eyes. One breath – then another – until he finally speaks.

“Go slow, yeah?” It’s barely a whisper.

Your lips part as you lower your head, your eyes never leaving his. You watch his stomach tense as you drag your mouth over the head of his cock. He guides you with that same hand in your hair, your hand continuing its steady rhythm while your lips seal around him. His fingers tighten in your hair as you smooth your tongue against the underside.

Sirius purrs something into your ear that you don’t register, his hands were lifting your dress again. The cool air is replaced by the warmth of his hands on your hips, fingers trailing over your thigh and to your underwear.

Remus breathes out your name as you take him deeper, your mouth hot and slow around. You hollow out your cheeks, sucking as you do. The faint, wet sound it makes feels impossibly loud in the space between you. The weight of his cock on your tongue is heavy, but you savor it. Every twitch, every shudder from him sustains that ache in you to give him – give them – all you can.

You gasp when you feel Sirius dragging a finger along your clothed cunt, hips jolting back toward him, and you accidently still around Remus. Your eyes squeeze shut, and Sirius’ hand strokes up again to circle your clit through the fabric.

“You’re soaked,” he murmurs against your neck.

You respond with a muffled moan around Remus. You reach blindly, grabbing Sirius’ wrist – not to stop him, just to anchor yourself.

“Keep looking at me,” Remus rasps.

You lift your gaze, lashes fluttering as you blink through the haze of pleasure. He’s looking down at you, his skin flushed all the way to his collarbone and dragging your attention to his unsteady breathing.

Slowly, you begin to move again – more confident now – and Sirius’ hand matches your rhythm. He teases your clit in time with the bobbing of your head, spurring you on more. He kisses your cheek, just behind where Remus is filling your mouth, and then your jaw.

Your hips chase his touch mindlessly, pleasure sparking through you. You feel dizzy and overwhelmed in the best of ways. You feel him breathing behind you, feel Remus struggling not to buck into your throat.

You whine at the sudden loss of stimulation, but Sirius shushes you, and you feel his hand disappear under the hem of your underwear. He teases your clit once more, and you arch into the contact as one of his fingers sinks into you. The stretch isn’t overwhelming, and you moan when the heel of his palm presses against your clit in just the right way. Your hips roll against the pressure, encouraging him to pump his finger in and out.

You can feel Sirius smirk against your skin as he sets a steady pace with his hand. It’s all too much, and not enough. Your mind blanks and spins, caught in the heady drag of your mouth, the way Remus starts to pant your name, and the lewd slick of Sirius’ fingers inside you.

Your head lolls to the side, tears brimming in your eyes as you nearly choke when Sirius curls his finger inside you. He chuckles, firmly pressing dragging his palm to your sex. With his free hand, he strokes your cheek – right where Remus’ cock bulges from the inside of your mouth.

“There’s a pretty picture,” he coos.

It’s disgusting. It’s filthy.

You need more.

You suck Remus down harder in response, humming just to hear him moan a little more. The hand in your hair tightens, his hips stutter up once – just once – before he reins it in.

Behind you, Sirius crooks his finger. You whimper, clenching around the intrusion, your walls fluttering and on the edge.

“Another?” he asks, sounding almost sweet.

I could strangle him, you think.

“Mhm, you whine loudly, nodding faintly.

He presses a second finger into you, and you feel the slow slide. You falter for a moment, jaw slack around Remus, but you recover with another whimper as Sirius curls his fingers inside you. You swallow around Remus, and his thumb brushes the corner of your mouth before it slips back to your hair. His eyes are fixed on you, half-lidded and swimming with something tender and wrecked all at once.

You’re breathing hard through your nose now, your jaw aching, but you don’t stop. Remus’ thigh twitches beneath the palm of your hand – one you hadn’t even realized you’d placed there. Sirius murmurs something into the shell of your – something indecent, you’re sure – but it’s downed out by the pounding in your chest.

“F-fuck—darling—just—” Remus chokes on the words as you quicken your movements.

His whole body tenses.

You can feel it in the way he swells on your tongue. His hand cups your jaw again – just for a second – as if to cradle you, and then pulls back to tangle both hands in your hair. His breath stutters, and his body shudders with every flick of your tongue.

“Don’t stop,” he gasps. “Don’t—oh—fuck—”

You couldn’t if you tried. You let your tongue drag languidly beneath the head before sliding down again, hollowing your cheeks on the way up. His hips buck, and you feel him pulse. You taste the warmth as he comes in sharp waves. Your name sounds sweet on his tongue, head tipped back, and your fingers squeeze around his thighs as you swallow what he gives you.

Sirius’ fingers are still stroking deep inside you, slower now. He coaxes and milks every ounce of pleasure as you cling to Remus. He presses a kiss to the space behind your ear, voice velvet-soft.

“I’ve got you.”

[sirxlla]

You Write Dirty Poetry About Them & They Find It

Dick: After an amazing night, had written some raunchy note, you thought it was shit, but it was after a night with him filled with passion and ecstasy. You ripped it off the top of your post-its and placed it to the side while you made his lunch so you could put in another regular sweet love note in his lunch bag like you did every day.

Dick is on his lunch at the police department, and he opens the paper bag to read the notes you'd always leave. He reads it and nearly chokes on his own spit. Dick coughs and wheezes a bit, hitting his chest a bit.

"You okay, Grayson?" One of his colleagues calls out to him as they pass his desk.

"Ye-Yeah. I'm good." He swiftly took his phone case off and put the note in it before putting his phone back into the case. His co-worker passed, not even taking a second to think about what was going on.

"Don't you worry, Baby. When I get home we can do just what you wrote down." He texts you with a winky face.

"What sticky note?"

"The dirty one. I mean wow. That's so much different versus what you usually put on your sticky notes."

You didn't mean for him to see it, but he seemed to like it and didn't judge you for it one bit. Maybe you'd slip a dirty note in his lunch here and there to keep him on his toes.

Jason: He comes in reading your notebook and your heart falls into your ass. He isn't supposed to see that, well, maybe? You always wanted your work to be seen by someone, but right now, this feels mortifying.

"Jay, Don't. Please, Jay!" You ran up to him and tried to get it out of his hand but he lifted it.

"'Tie my hair up like a cherry stem...'" He starts reading it as you try to jump at him to take the journal.

"'Cum on my tongue like a Cadbury' Holy shit, Babe!" Jason looks at you with amazement as he reads the line again to himself in his mind. He teases you as he continues keeping the book from you as he reads; Jason whistles as he reads the last two lines.

Get you stuck to my face like bubblegum." He whistles as he reads the last few lines with a shit-eating grin.

"It's honestly so bad. I know." Your heart feels heavy in your chest as he reads it. It's awful, you wrote it when you first started dating Jason and thought it was the best piece of poetry you'd ever written.

"Babygirl, I didn't know you were so needy for me. This is good, I actually really like it. It's creative." He smiles very genuinely and kindly; he's serious, which surprises you and fills the hole in your chest.

"I'm serious, though; they are actually so good. Not just that one, but there's a bunch in here that are just- just, Wow. I wish you'd've read these to me a long time ago." He sits down with you and pulls you into his lap before he skims the pages, resting his head on your shoulder. Jason reads it like every other book he reads to you and whispers the words gently into your ear.

You lean back on him and start to relax against his chest as you read the words while he speaks them out loud.

"I like being your muse, Babygirl." He says softly before pressing his lips to your neck in a long sweet kiss.

Bruce: Unbeknownst to both of you, your notebook looks identical to his, and he's all the way in Japan handling some business for Wayne Enterprises. he goes to open the notebook to go over his pitch again. He reads a few lines and realizes entirely that this is indeed not his notebook. He snoops a bit even though he'll tell you he didn't to which you'll call him on his lying.

He gives you a call, and of course, it goes as to be expected. Bruce gave up and told you he did indeed snoop, but he asked for his notes, which you gave him.

Bruce sits on his bed writing the information you relayed to him before you had a thought and blurted it out rather swiftly.

"Which one was your favorite?" You ask and his side of the phone stays silent as he contemplates the question. Should he answer? Should I? He clears his throat before answering the question.

"The silk ties one, I've actually been wanting to do something just like that, and we can definitely do it when I get home." He certainly felt a pang of desire in his gut, and between his thighs, he missed you already, and he'd barely be gone the day. He wanted to be dominated and tied up by you, and hopefully, he's gonna get his wish.

"Really?" You beam with excitement; the thought of dominating Bruce Wayne, aka Batman, made you just as giddy as it did for him.

Tim: Tim was snooping just a little and found your poetry journal. He opened it out of curiosity, and he was surprised by the graphicness of your poems about him. They painted clear pictures of what you wanted to do to him. He turned the page and found drawings, They're amazing drawings, but it's straight-up pornography. Tim's face is bright red.

He hears you call to him from the kitchen, and he accidentally drops the journal everywhere, which causes some stray pieces to go flying, and he starts panicking. He doesn't want you to suspect anything, so he gathers it all up and hides it under the bed before scurrying off to see what you need.

Tim entirely forgets to put your stuff back cause of his ADHD, and as soon as you ask if he's seen it, he claims not to see it. You later find it where it was before, but everything is all mixed up.

It was obvious that he had gotten into it, which you really didn't mind, but when you'd even bring it up, his face would turn red, and he'd try to change the conversation.

"So Tim about the journal or notebook or whatever..."

"You know that turtles are actually about to live up to 50 years or maybe more?" He says to try to distract himself from the images that pop into his head drawings and the times he's spent with you combined.

Damian: Damian doesn't touch people's stuff without permission. He wants people to respect his space, so he does try to do the same, but you had left your notebook open.

He read a few pages and got a bit more of an insight into what makes you tick, he's flattered that he can make you feel so good. Of course, Damian, being Damian, begins to practice those things more regularly. Damian loves praise so knowing he's making you feel good and he's doing good gets him more even motivated to keep you happy. Your toes curl as you scratch up his back. A string of praise and pleasure leaves your lips and he finishes after you shortly.

Damian picks you up and takes you to the bathtub to wash you off; he can see how tired you are but also how satisfied you are, which causes him to smile and be with pride over his success tonight.

He slips into the bath behind you and kisses your shoulders.

"How did you know I love that so much?" You ask with curiosity as your eyes are closed and your back is against his chest.

"Oh, you know? Just a bit of experimentation, testing out a few old things and a few new... I wouldn't want you to get bored of me in bed, Beloved." He kisses up your neck as he massages your hips, you have no idea he read the journal, and when you finally get the courage to bring up the journal to him, he acts like he's never seen it before.

Masterlist

Send me prompts if you'd like

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

MY NAME IS. BRUTUS.

Damn fourth fic of the day, yeah? Why am I listening to these music while writing? Idk. But let me do my thing ‼️‼️ P.S. All this while it was 5pm in the evening too🙏

Gender Neutral reader

Genre: as you can tell with many others in the singer!reader au posts, Romantic.

Involvement: Main cast

Warnings?: cussy [yk what time it is ‼️‼️], comedy cus I can't live without it, if you see mistakes I'm probably half brain-dead for not noticing it, OOC[just in case], and uhmmm other things idk help me I'm multi-tasking through apps [texting my friends in whatsapp, TikTok, going back to Tumblr, and random ass research that has nothing to do with any of my works 🙏‼️], idk what else to add.

Ayeee shoutout to @sparklybasementcherryblossom

Thank you for reminding me I had this in my playlist!!!

So you see, you've been getting popular recently... but who cares? You're actually getting paid for it so, Letts cook up another one ‼️‼️‼️

And you thought of one thing.

Brutus...

Oh, that name. With so much envy driven into madness. Yes. That one.

You are going to have so much fun with this.

For the next performance.

They have no idea what's coming for them.

You've already set up the stage, and set in the camera for streaming. You've already had a few people in your otherworldly band, so you were happy to do more.

☆~~———~~☆

You've set up the play, it was like everything before, everyone had sat down to see the play, you had new additions for this music, though.

Because it's gonna get loud.

Riddle, Ace, Deuce, and Trey all sat in front since yk, they're your first friends in a dorm?? And so on with Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Epel, Idia[tablet], Ortho, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, and who else could be companions of yours.

You've started it.

Now they'll hear it.

The music begins...

It went silent before it got louder and louder.

You hear the chorus of women, humming, singing random incoherent words.

And no one fucking understands.

The beats sounds heavy, like any other songs you've recently played, but this one has something, unspoken, heavy, feeling.

I've been watching him for my entire life,

I hate the air he breathes,

his foolish decrees,

His words so contrived

And I hate the way the townspeople gather outside,

They hang on every breath,

Cling to his chest,

Home to his heart full of pride.

Whoa, now that was a surprising start, your voice seemed exhausted, angry in a way. It's like speaking through your teeth with unbridled rage.

The oracle told him to beware of the Ides,

And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wishing,

For an untimely death or demise.

You've spat out those words like venom.

DAMN. Right off the bat?? Chill [Name]! Ruggie would've been scared if it weren't it being a music play.

Or am I just wishing just wishing I could be like you?

That the people would see me too as a poet,

And not just the muse.

The envy in your voice pours out for everyone to see.

Rook was wondering if it was pointing to him...

Vil felt a strange feeling of Deja vú.

Oh, it's not true,

I don't wish harm upon you,

You reassured in a mocking way.

Riddle was thinking on what the implications might be... Trey was attentively listening, could you be envious as well? Cater stresmed again, in a more hushed tone.

From birth,

We've been like brothers of different mothers,

within the spirit of the same womb,

May the Gods strike me down if I forsake you,

You sounded desperate, in what way, though?

Frater Meus, you're beautifully made,

And to you,

I'm forever grateful.

I'll never forget that you showed me to make art,

And I know the love you showed me came,

From a pure and noble heart.

Okay... weird thing to say when you literally wished for someone's death...

Idia seemed interested, Ortho likes the emotions put into this, Malleus is wondering why your singing all the time, Vil explained its a form of expression.

I love you,

And if you want, I'll call you king.

You said in a hushed tone.

All are listening closely like a secret being told

But why do I lie awake each night thinking,

"Instead of you, it should be me"?

Jamil looks at you like you've hit amnesia, no shit???

Something wicked this way comes,

And as I set to face it,

I'm unsure.

Should I embrace it, should I run?

The words weigh heavy, lingering in the air, crashing down in suffocation.

What motivates me?

Hatred? Is it love?

What's more wrong:

That I too wish to be great

Or,

My mother wished she'd had a son?

Your voice grows frantic, in a desperate dance.

Everyone is worried on the implications of what it could've meant, jealousy.

You gasp.

And even if I can't be the one,

Maybe I could at least help

Make way for him,

Until the day that he comes?

In a crazed manner, your expression was manic.

Maybe my name could also be known,

That I helped return good to the people,

And restored greatness to Rome?!

You raised your voice slightly.

Making some flinch in surprise.

A chant of 'Brutus' in the background.

A scene of Brutus killing the man she envied.

MY NAME IS BRUTUS,

AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY,

SO WITH A HEAVY HEART,

I'LL GUIDE THIS DAGGER INTO THE HEART OF MY ENEMY.

Oh! Uhm...

MY WHOLE LIFE,

YOU WERE A TEACHER AND A FRIEND TO ME,

PLEASE KNOW THAT MY ACTIONS ARE NOT ONLY MOTIVATED ONLY BY,

ENVY.

I, TOO, HAVE A DESTINY, THIS DEATH WILL BE ART!

Your voice grew louder and louder, enough to awake the sleeping students.

THE PEOPLE WILL SPEAK OF THIS DAY,

FROM NEAR TO AFAR!

THIS EVENT WILL BE HISTORY,

AND I'LL BE GREAT TOO,

I DON'T WANT WHAT YOU HAVE,

I WANT TO BE YOU...!

The intensity of your voice increases, never ceases. The envy boiling in your tone like a forbidden spell not to be chanted.

The audience is left hypnotized with its intense tones and harsh words, it's like sharpening knives grazed on their ears.

I always knew I could be the one,

Though, I feel the endless pain of being,

And I am scorched by the sun.

What.

-Malleus, probably.

Of humble origins,

And born of the cursed sex,

My name is Brutus,

But the people will call me Rex.

Hushed out a voice from the last verse, a rasp sound in the throat.

The women hum and chant in incoherent voices.

The music ends.

Well done.

The audience was quiet, then finally.

"Wooo! That was amazing!!" Epel yelled.

Everyone erupted into an applause.

You're talented, [Name]. No matter what it is your good at, whether your confident or not.

You'll be recognized by the others.

The End.

OOUUFF DONEEE!!!

Enjoy !!! :>

[crushoncaleb]

Be my valentine

Rafayel x reader

Fluff

1.4k words

You try to ask Rafayel to be your valentine. The keyword is try.

A/N. First time I have written something for a holiday or event and actually managed to post it in time! Basically, I couldn't sleep, and Rafayel possessed me. Hope y'all enjoy!

My masterlist

Is this...rejection?

You'd spent some time planning it, even bribed Thomas to get Rafayel the day off. But when you and Rafayel arrived at your usual spot at the beach. He didn't seem to take note of the seagulls at all.

The seagulls you had somehow managed to train into landing in the right order so the letters you stuck to them would ask him to be your valentine. Now, you'd be the first to admit, the whole plan was a little crazy, but with your and Rafayel's history and connection to the seagulls choir, you'd thought it would be cute.

If it had been any more subtle, you might've believed he genuinely missed it. But it's quite hard to believe someone like Rafayel would not see the literal seagull choir the two of you were here to visit. So naturally, you had to assume he was letting you down easy.

Even being let down easy hurt. It completely blindsided you. You were absolutely certain something had been brewing between you and the artist. Hell, last time you'd spent time with him after wearing new perfume, he'd spent about an hour shoving his face against you to breathe you in. You were SO certain that crossed the line of platonic.

You start questioning if perhaps you'd been reading social interactions wrong your entire life, as next to you, Rafayel starts getting antsy.

"Cutie, as much as the sky is beautiful today and I would love to spend time staring at it with you, we should go get lunch now. Thomas' endless texting has tired me out, and I'm huungry. " He speaks, his tone light and whiney as always, and for a second, you consider him world's greatest actor.

You decide that what you felt for Rafayel combined with the effort you'd put into this plan was worth the risk of heartbreak, so in a final effort to get him to acknowledge you, you speak up.

"Don't you want to see your trusty choir first? They're right there behind you. I'm sure they've missed their conductor." You're not sure if you manage to keep your tone quite as light and playful as intended, desperation tinging the edges of your words, but you've spoken them, now he HAS to respond.

A pause, anticipation clogs your veins, and you practically feel your blood pressure rising. "...there's a boat ride with a buffet that might be nice today, since the weather is so nice and all."

Your eyebrows raise, the casual tone of his voice so steady that you almost start questioning if you even did bring it up at all. But the quick look he takes at you and the way he turns away tells you he is definitely doing this on purpose.

It was truly rejection then, your stomach twists and a buffet and a boat ride with Rafayel suddenly sound daunting. You could get over rejection, but maybe not within 10 minutes.

"Hmm, that sounds nice but I'm actually starting to feel a little off," you muse on your excuse "I think I might head home a little earlier than planned today, Rafayel, rain check?"

He turns to face you now, slowly. Eyes wide and brows furrowed, expression reminiscent of that time you gave him a single apple when he checked himself into the hospital. A mix between shock, offense, and a silent command to change your mind.

He grabs your wrist and starts pulling you along. His expression changes in a heartbeat, and it's like you never said anything.

"They apparently have like a super long waiting list, but I got in pretty easily. Guess being well known does have its perks after all, huh?" He keeps talking in that same casual tone of his, which is starting to frustrate you to no end.

"Rafayel, I get that a rain check for the boat might not be easy if it's like that, but I really need to go home." You plead, trying to pull yourself out of his grip but he just turns to you, gives you that same expression that you're convinced only Rafayel can make properly, and then keeps going like you never opened your mouth.

You're baffled at his behavior, and by the time you recover, the two of you are making your way onto the boat.

"Now, I'm going to need you to stop looking so surprised, cutie." He reaches out to gently smooth his fingers over the muscles of your brows, which you will admit are a little tense from how you've had them raised the entire way here. "I need you looking as cute as you always do for the pictures we're gonna take here."

It was one thing to completely ignore what was practically a confession, another to blatantly ignore your request to go home, but the audacity to tell you to not be surprised at his antics? That was too far.

He tries to pull you along again, but you hold steady. He shoots you a questioning look. As if you're the one acting out of the ordinary.

"Rafayel, I want to go home," and you're proud of yourself for standing on business, convinced there is no way for him to just ignore that. In your defense, he doesn't.

Instead, he huffs, his gorgeous features taking on that oh so familiar, annoyed expression. His response is a short "no, you don't" before he takes a step closer to you, only to link your arms and pull you along with the new leverage that gives him.

Then, before you know it, you're standing at the front of the boat as it slides through the water. With no way home except a very prolonged dive.

Rafayel entertains you, and the entire situation had been confusing enough to distract you from his blatant rejection, but now that his weird behavior seems to be settling, reality starts creeping in. You're stuck with him now, so you'll have to keep yourself together until you manage to get off this boat. How vexing.

His first cough doesn't shake you out of the deep thoughts you're in and neither does the second so, Rafayel resorts to nudging you with his elbow when a red fish surfaces with a bottle in its mouth.

You look at him, but he pointedly looks away, like he didn't just practically poke your ribs out. When you lean towards the railing, the fish jumps, and the bottle flies towards you.

You're not actually in the mood to catch it, but your hunter instincts kick in, and in the blink of an eye, the intricate glass bottle is in your hands. You can see a note neatly curled up and tied with a bow, resting inside it.

"Wow, cutie, those are some reflexes." Rafayel feigns being impressed and then presses on. "You should open it. You won the bottle's secrets fair and square once you saved its life."

You narrow your eyes at him. This could not possibly have been more obviously set up by him. Though you will say, his sheer determination to have things go his way is admirable.

You comply, already knowing the only other option was to face his huffing and puffing before then having to comply after all.

The cork takes more effort to open than you'd like, and Rafayel smiles fondly at the slight flush that rises on your face in result. Once you unroll the note, though, your eyes widen.

There, in Rafayel's eclectic handwriting are the very words you'd strung up on your seagulls.

A beat passes, and Rafayel looks at you expectantly. A cute expression on his face, and for a second, you are torn between accepting just to keep him looking like that and raining down righteous retribution on him.

You decide you'd do both. "Rafayel, of course I'll be your valentine, but did you really ha-" his lips halt yours before you could complain at all and you feel said complaints melting away.

The kiss is sweet, Rafayel brings you into his arms as he starts to deepen it, you'd always suspected he'd be a needy kisser, but he pulls away before he gets carried away.

"Sorry, cutie. Couldn't have you interfering with my plans though, you have no idea how long I've waited to make this move." His voice sounds breathy, and his eyes don't leave your lips. His words are so sweet you could almost ignore how he's pretending this was your fault. Almost.

Yet, you'll let it slide. Because as he leans in for another kiss, you just can't find it in yourself to be upset with him.

[samanthacastano02]

Leave

Hyunjin x FemReader

Warnings: angst, fighting (Non-physical between Hyunjin and Reader), Knife violence, Major Character death (With resuscitation), Saseang, Blood, Description of getting stabbed, Medical inaccuracy, probably more (let me know if I miss any) 

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You get into a fight with Hyunjin, after showing up at his dorm. You had been having a hard time with work, and the hate that you were receiving from a small percentage of fans, you didn’t want to tell Hyunjin and worry him more. But when he gets angry and calls you clingy, leaving you alone in his dorm things take a turn for the worse. 

Photos are not mine, credits go to photographers

Hyunjin and I had been dating for a little over two years and it had been the happiest two years of my life. He was the sweetest and most romantic partner that I could ask for, bringing me flowers randomly, using me as his muse when he felt inspired to paint, and when he was out on tour he would send me photos of things that he saw that reminded him of me. As he and I began dating longer, I got to meet his members and they became like brothers to me. Because Hyunjin lived with Changbin, I grew close with the older boy, he treated me like I was his younger sister. He picked on me but still made sure that Hyunjin was taking care of me and threatened to handle Hyunjin if he wasn’t. 

Around six months ago we decided that we were tired of hiding our relationship from the public so we had spoken to JYP entertainment and their publicist to form a plan to announce our relationship. Most of their fans were extremely supportive and were extremely happy for us, but there were a few who weren’t too happy about it. They didn’t make it known to Hyunjin but they made it very well known on my social media pages, most of the time the comments got buried in the positive comments but sometimes it was hard to ignore them. I didn’t want to tell Hyunjin because I knew that it would worry him. 

The issues had started about three months after we had announced our relationship to the public, there seemed to be one fan in particular that was really unhappy that Hyunjin and I were dating. She had been leaving threats on almost all of my recent posts, threatening that if she ever saw me in person that I should watch my back. It made me anxious but I ignored it because most of the time they were just harmless threats. 

Present: 

It had been a long day at work, my boss had been on my ass for everything. Even stuff that wasn’t in my department, and then getting mad when I couldn’t complete the task. My project partner was no help, spending the entire day on her phone instead of helping get the report finished for our meeting at the end of the week. Hyunjin had been radio silent for the majority of the day, just texting this morning and then nothing. I knew that he was busy recording and getting ready for his next comeback but it would have been nice to hear from him. I knew that he would be home before me tonight which would be nice, because that meant that I would be able to rant about my day to him and get a very needed cuddle session from him. 

The day seemed to drag by at a snail's pace, by the time the end of the day came it was already dark out and the streets were mostly empty. Because my project partner was no help, it took way longer than expected to get the work done which caused me to leave the office at close to 8:30pm, Hyunjin usually drops me off at work but he had left this morning before I had even woke up which left me to ride the bus to work. 

With the project finally in the reviewing stage I could finally go home and relax with Hyunjin. I still hadn’t heard from him but I knew he was at home because he had made it a thing to share each other's location for safety reasons. I made my way out of the office, walking to the bus stop that wasn’t too far from my work. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me, but anytime that I  looked around I couldn’t see any one. I was on edge the entire time while waiting for the bus, constantly looking around trying to see if there was anyone. Finally after around ten minutes of waiting the bus finally arrived, as I got onto the bus I did see a girl around my age get on but I didn’t think anything of it. Not thinking about the fan that had been leaving threats on all of my posts. 

When I finally got off the bus, I noticed that she also got off behind me. I was aware of her, deciding to test a theory to see if she just lived in the same area as me or if she was actually following me. I took the long way to get to Hyunjin and Changbin’s dorm room, which meant taking four right turns. To my horror, she turned every time that I did, I sped up my walk a little bit trying to lose her but any time that I tried to lose her she sped up as well. When I got to his dorm, I rushed up the stairs and entered Hyunjin’s dorm in a panic because she was rushing up the stairs after me. 

“Jinnie, are you home?” I called out into the silent dorm, but I didn’t hear anything back. I thought that maybe he might be in his room painting again with his headphones in. I really just wanted him to hold me and reassure me that everything would be ok. I slipped on the cute bunny house slippers that Jinnie had gotten me for my birthday earlier this year and walked to his room, I couldn’t hear anything. I knocked gently on his door before pushing it open, when it opened I could see that he was in the zone and focused on his painting. I didn't want to bother him so I was just going to lay on his bed.  He must have seen movement out of the corner of his eye because he turned towards me but instead of the usual warmth and love in his eyes, he looked at me with a cold stare.

“What are you doing here?” He asked me coldly. “What do you mean? I usually end up coming over after I get off? Your place is closer to both of our jobs and I wanted to spend time with you?” I say hesitantly.

“It wouldn’t hurt to spend time at your own place, you don’t always have to be here.” “I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you, today has been a hard day and I just wanted to cuddle.”

“I get no time to myself y/n, you are always around.” “Hyunjin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome here.”

“Can you just go home tonight, I can’t deal with your clinginess.” “I’m being clingy? I’m sorry that I wanted comfort from my boyfriend after my job has been stressful.”

“Your job is stressful? Don’t try to be funny.” “Hyunjin, I’m not joking. Today was really stressful.” “Just go home y/n, I don’t want you here and I especially don’t want to deal with your clingy self.” “I’ll go home after work tomorrow, I just - I don’t feel safe going home tonight.”

“God even when I ask for space you can’t give that to me. If you won’t leave then I will.”

“Hyunjin, please you don’t have to leave. I’ll leave you in your room. I’ll sleep on the couch and then tomorrow after I get off work I’ll go home to my apartment instead of coming here.” “No. I don’t even want to be in the same place as you right now y/n because you can’t respect my wishes and go home tonight.”

“Hyunjin, the reason I don’t want to go home tonight is because I was followed home.”

“If you're going to come up with an excuse, come up with one that is more believable.” “Fine, Hyunjin. I will go home, when Binnie gets here I will ask him to drive me home.”

“Whatever, I’m leaving until then. Have Changbin text me when you leave.”

“What does this mean for us? What’s going to happen to us?”

“Honestly y/n I don’t know and quite frankly I don’t care. You not respecting my wishes to leave is making me really rethink this relationship.”

“O-o-oh, I see.”

“I’m leaving.”

With that he angrily walks out of the dorm, I was in shock. The way that Hyunjin had reacted was not his normal behavior. I sat down on the couch and began to sob. I didn’t know when Changbin was supposed to get here, I didn’t know if Hyunjin would be coming back. Hell I didn’t even know if there was even a relationship between him and I anymore. I was crying so hard that I could barely breathe, sobs racking my chest. It felt like my heart was breaking over and over, I didn’t know how to deal with this pain, I wanted the ground to swallow me and never let me out. I thought that I was going to spend the rest of my life with Hyunjin and now I don’t know what’s going to happen. What I thought was going to be a night of comfort turned into a night of pure heartbreak.

I sat on the couch crying for who knows how long, when I finally heard the door open. I jumped up thinking that it was either Hyunjin or Changbin coming home. I was really hoping that it was Hyunjin because that man was the absolute love of my life, and even if what he said wrecked me I wanted to be with him. But when I got to the front entryway, it wasn’t Hyunjin or Changbin. There in the entryway stood the same girl from earlier, I slid to a stop in pure terror because in her hand was a knife. 

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” “He’s going to be mine. He won't miss you, all I need to do is remove you from the picture entirely.” she sounded crazy, not making any sense.

“You need to leave. This is private property.” “What are you going to do? Call your boyfriend for help? Oh yea, he doesn’t want to talk to you or see you right now.” “I’m calling the police.” I rushed back into the living room, where I left my phone. I can hear the girl rushing after me, just before I can get to my phone she knocks me down, feet away from my phone. I was already tired from the long day of work and the fight with Hyunjin. I tried to fight her off the best that I could, but due to my exhaustion she got the upperhand on me and shoved the knife into my side. The pain was blinding, but I kept trying to fight her off. 

My attacker continued to have the upper hand on me, repeatedly pulling the knife out of me and stabbing me somewhere else in the stomach or side. I tried to fight back but soon the pain and blood loss got too much and I stopped fighting, closing my eyes. She must have thought that she got the job done, because soon she pulled the knife out and stabbed it one last time, just because she could, before pulling it out and rushing out of the apartment leaving me bleeding out on the carpet of Hyunjin and Changbin’s dorm. With a rush of adrenaline I pulled myself the agonizing last few feet to where my phone lay. In my pain-addled brain, I didn’t think to call emergency services, I thought to text Hyunjin one last time. Knowing that there was no way I was going to survive this. I sent this text through siri, not having the strength to lift my arms anymore

To Hyunjinnie: Hyunjin, my love. I love you so much, I’m so sorry. I hope you have the happiest and brightest days my love. I’ll see you again someday. 

Changbin’s POV:

It had been a long day at the studio, I was ready to get back to the dorms and crash for the night but before that I knew that I needed to take y/n home. Hyunjin had texted me a couple hours ago saying that he and y/n had gotten into a fight and she didn’t have a ride home. When I got to the dorms, there was an odd air surrounding the building, it was oddly quiet. When I got up to our floor, our dorm door was already open. I thought it was odd but didn’t think anything of it, maybe in his rush out Hyunjin didn’t shut it all the way. I slipped off my shoes and slipped on my house slippers. I walked into the house looking for y/n so I could see if she’s ready to be taken home to her apartment. But to my horror, I find her lying on the living room floor in a pool of her own blood. I rush to her, dropping to my knees beside her. In my panic I did manage to call emergency services, I knew that I needed to apply pressure to her wounds. 

Her chest was barely rising and falling, I was panicking, I didn’t know what to do. Her eyes weren’t open, and she was losing blood at a rapid pace. Emergency services just told me to keep applying pressure on her wounds until they got here, unless her chest stopped rising. I was praying that her heart didn’t stop, I needed her to be ok. She was like my little sister. I wanted to do everything that I could to protect her, I knew that Hyunjin also loved her and would never forgive himself. 

After what felt like an eternity, the emergency services finally arrived. She was barely alive when they got to her, they rushed to get her on the gurney. As they were rushing out of the dorm, I heard them yell that she was flatlining, I rushed after them. When I came out I saw that one of the paramedics was now kneeling above her on the gurney performing chest compressions while another was putting in a tub so that they could provide air to her. They didn’t stop moving after they got everything into place, just as they shut the doors to the ambulance I heard them say that they got her heart rate back. It was a relief but it was hard to tell if she was going to make it or not. I knew that Hyunjin was with Bang Chan and I.N, I knew that I needed to call them and have them meet me at the hospital. I walked back into the apartment and grabbed my phone, but before I could call Bang Chan the police pulled me aside for questioning. Once I explained all that I knew they allowed me to call Bang Chan finally, he answered on the fourth ring. 

“Chan, are you with Innie and Hyunjin right now?” “Yeah, I am. Why, what’s up?”

“I need you to put me on speaker and then sit down.”

“Changbin, what’s going on?”

“Put me on speaker and then I will explain, ok?” “Alright, give me a second. The boys are playing a game. Can it wait until they are done playing the game?” “Sadly no this can’t.” “Alright.” I can hear him call out to the two boys, after a minute I can hear all three of them sit down.

“Alright Changbin, why’d you want me to get the boys?”

“It has to do with y/n” I say hesitantly.

“Changbin, I don’t want to talk about her.” Hyunjin says, getting angry. “Hyunjin, shut up and listen.” that shuts him up quickly.

“Changbin, what’s going on? Why the short temper?” “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Is something wrong?” Innie asks.

“When I came back from the studio, I found the door to the apartment open. I thought that in his anger, Hyunjin had left it open-”

“I didn’t.” Hyunjin cut me off.

“I know now that you didn’t. But when I walked into the dorm, I um, I found y/n.” I paused, tearing up.

“Found her how?” Chan asked, with a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

“I found her lying on the floor, in a pool of blood.” I finally responded. “What?!” Hyunjin yelled into the phone.

“She had been attacked sometime between when Hyunjin had left and when I came home.”

“Do they know who attacked her?” Chan asked.

“Yes, they do. They are looking for her.”

“Explain what you know, please.” “She had been getting hate and death threats for months, Hyunjin.” “But she never told me?” “She didn’t want to worry you, she knew that you had enough on your plate and didn’t want to add more to your plate.” “S-she should have told me.” “The police said that a sasaeng attacked her, she was stabbed 15 times in the stomach and chest. She was on her way to the hospital around 30 minutes ago, I would have called sooner but I had to talk to the police.” “Innie, get the car. I’m gonna get Hyunjin’s shoes and get him down there. Changbin, we’ll meet you at the hospital.” Chan said as I heard comotion.

Hyunjin’s POV:

I sat on the couch in shock, y/n had been attacked by a crazed fan in my dorm. A place that she should have felt safe in, she wasn’t. What kind of boyfriend was I to let her get attacked by someone who was apparently a fan of ours? Would she ever forgive me for letting this happen to her? She told me that someone followed her, that she didn’t feel safe. And what did I want to do, I wanted to send her home to where she would be alone, where it could have been days before anyone actually went and checked on her. I was moving on autopilot, letting Chan and Innie lead me to the car to drive me to the hospital. I didn’t know what to expect when we got there, I was just in a constant state of shock, what if the last thing she heard me say was that I didn’t even know if I wanted this relationship anymore. How stupid could I have been? Of course I wanted this relationship with her still, hell I wanted to marry her. The reason I had been so stressed recently wasn’t just because of comeback season, but because of the fact that I had been planning to propose to her. But I may have just flushed that down the drain when I called her clingy and told her that I wasn’t sure if I wanted the relationship.

When we got to the hospital, Chan had Innie and I wait while he went to talk to the nurses to see what her condition was like. I couldn’t stop shaking my legs while I waited for him to give us the update, Changbin said that he would be here. But I have no idea where he is, and that makes me slightly worried. When I saw that Chan was walking back towards us, I jumped up and walked towards him. 

“What did they say?” I rushed out.

“She’s up in the icu, only friends and family right now and two people at a time. I’ll walk up with you and meet up with Changbin. Her condition is stable for now.” “I-is she awake?” “I’m sorry Jinnie, I didn’t ask but the nurse did say that we could head up there whenever we are ready. She already let the charge nurse of the icu know that we were coming up.” “Can we please? I don’t think that I’ll be able to relax until I see with my own eyes that she is breathing and that her heart is beating.”

“Yes, we can go up.”

Chan grabs my arm, becoming a support for me as we walk to the elevator and head up to the floor that the icu is on. I didn’t know what to expect when we got to her room, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it or not to be honest. I waited by the door, not ready to go in yet, scared to see what condition that she would be in. Chan saw that I was hesitating, knowing that I was worried. 

“Hyunjin, do you want me to go in first? Talk to Changbin and see how she’s doing?” “Please? I don’t think I can go in yet.”

“No worries, I got you.” Channie walks into her room to talk to Changbin. 

It wasn’t that long before both Chan and Changbin walked out of her room, Changbin looked like a mess. When he saw me he broke into tears again and immediately ran up to me, hugging me. At that, the dam broke and the tears began to flow. 

“Hyunjin, I’m so sorry. I should have been there sooner, this should have never happened to her.” “Binnie, what are you talking about?” “If I hadn’t worked so late, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” “Binnie, this isn’t your fault. This is my fault.” “Why is it your fault” “Because, if I hadn’t gotten upset with her then I wouldn’t have left her and that sasaeng wouldn’t have broken in.” “Hyunjin, you can’t blame yourself. Neither of us can blame ourselves for this.” “Go see her, she’s awake. She wants to see you.” Chan interrupts.

I look at Chan and then back to Changbin, they both nod at the fact that she wants to see me and that gives me a little hope that our relationship isn’t completely ruined. I turn towards her door and begin to push the door open, ready to see my beautiful girl. When I finally entered her room, I saw that she was hooked up to an IV and oxygen. When she heard the door open, she turned her attention to me, the smile that lit up her face broke my heart. After everything I couldn’t believe that she was happy to see me.

“You came back! Did you get my text?” 

“Lovie, what text?” “T-the text that I sent earlier tonight. Um r-right after the attack.” “My love I haven’t paid any attention to my phone, I am so sorry.” “Jinnie, I don’t care. I’m just happy that you are here. You're here and that’s all that matters now.”

“I’m not going anywhere now. I will never leave you again. I almost lost you due to my own stupidity and then because of someone who claims to be a fan. But anyone who attacks you and nearly takes you from me isn’t a fan.” “Jinnie, I know we had a fight. What you said hurt a lot. I will try to be less clingy going forward, I don’t want to do anything that could cause me to lose you.” “No no, y/nnie you aren’t clingy. You have never been clingy. I said that in a moment of weakness, and I never ever meant it. Nor did I mean that I didn’t know if I wanted our relationship. I was stressed and I know that’s not an excuse, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for it if you let me?” “Jinnie, what are you asking?��

“Y/n will you marry me. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you if you’ll let me. I will spend every minute of every day showering you in love, love that you deserve. You mean the world to me. I want you to cling to me, I want you to cling to me for the rest of our lives. Until we are gray, old and wrinkly.” “Jinnie. I-I, god yes I’ll marry you. I love you so much.” She tries to lean into me but cries out in pain. I immediately stop her from trying to lean towards me more. I gently pushed her back into her bed and gave her the kiss that she wanted.

Your POV:

I somehow survived the stabbing and because the sasaeng didn’t wear gloves when she broke in, she left fingerprints on the door and the police were able to find her, sentencing her to prison for attempted murder. Jinnie stayed with me the entire time that I was in the hospital, JYP allowed him to go on a short-term hiatus. I had to be in the hospital for a month, the bed was uncomfortable and the food wasn't very good but he was there with me the entire time. We had both talked to JYP and asked if he and I would be allowed to release a statement during a live about what happened and about the engagement, surprisingly he gave us permission to release it on our time as long as when we did the live a staff member was there with us, in case they needed to step in for any reason. 

Epilogue:

 It was the day that we decided to do the live, to both announce the engagement and the statement about what happened and why Jinnie had to take a hiatus. The staff member actually ended up being a friend of mine, which I found slightly funny. I was still on bed rest so Jinnie had set the phone up on the bed in a way that allowed both him and I to be seen, while I was sitting up with my legs resting in front of me. It was comfortable enough for the duration of the live. 

“Hey guys, it’s amazing to see all of you here. Unfortunately this is going to be a short live. We just wanted to clear the air on some stuff and a small but big announcement.” he read the comments for a little while, letting more fans log onto the live. 

“One of the reasons we wanted to do the live, is because we wanted to explain why Hyunjin went on hiatus for a month and a half. He’s back now but we both thought that you deserved an explanation. And before you guys ask, yes we got permission to tell you.” Hyunjin nodded in confirmation.

“I went on hiatus because y/nnie here was in the hospital and I wanted to be with her, I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she needed me.” he read the comments, reading quietly out loud, asking why I was in the hospital. 

“While Jinnie and Binnie were out of the apartment, someone who was very angry with me broke in and attacked me, stabbing me 15 times. Nearly taking my life, I spent two weeks in intensive care before I was moved down to the main floor of the hospital. I’m ok now, just still on bed rest. Hence the giant pile of pillows behind me, because Jinnie here refused to do the live unless I was extremely comfortable and not in pain.”

“She’s ok, and she will continue to be ok. And I thank god every day for that, because I don’t know what I would have done without her. She is my world, her, the boys, and stay, mean everything to me. Sorry boys if you are watching this, she’s higher on the list.” He teases the camera. I lean over and press a kiss to his cheek.

“The other thing we wanted to tell, stay was that-” Hyunjin cuts me off.

“Wait! I want to tell them.” “Go ahead, love.” I gesture towards the camera.

“I asked y/nnie here to marry me, she said yes. Y/nnie here is now the future Mrs.Hwang, if you are unhappy about it please keep it to yourself.” the staff member clears her throat from behind the camera, Hyunjin smiles unapologetically at the camera.“Thank you, all for the well wishes. For those of you asking if we can give health updates, yes we can. We love you, Stay, so much. Continue to be amazing, until next time.” Hyunjin finishes the live before turning towards the staff member, waiting for her to leave. Once she left, he leaned down to give me a loving kiss, one that had a promise of tomorrow and a promise of happiness. I knew that there would be hardship in the future but I knew that we would be happy

[madhatterbri]

Hike | A.S.

Summary: Falling in love on a hike.

Mentioned/ Thought of by: @rise-against-the-machine

Author's Note: Dude at work gave me the creeps, and I'm trying not to distract myself.

Alex Shelley Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @smallestsnarkestgirl @hodgepodge-musings @cowboywritersworld @magicalbuttertarts @letsgivethisonemoreshot @blackwingedmisanthrope

Hike with me?

Three little words in a text message that made you jump out of bed that morning. A happy hum through the house as you grabbed everything you would need to survive a hike with exercise aficionado Alex Shelley. A large hat, sunglasses, sunscreen, and water. What else could you possibly need?

The excitement to hike with Alex quickly diminished the moment you started to do said activity. Your thighs burned. Rocks that lay on the ground were silently cursed as you walked past them. Sweat dripped down your back, causing your shirt to cling to your back.

Alex, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He paced through the trails like it was a flat surface. No cursing, no complaining, just a stoic look to finish this trail like his life depended on it.

At the end of the trail, he waited for you. His toned body wet from sweat. Some strands of his hair laid over his face to cover part of his eyes.

"How are you not dead right now?" You blurted out while leaning against a fence post. The water bottle you brought nearly almost done. This was not the fun you thought it would be. There was a little piece of Heaven on Earth. You just happened to walk through the piece that was Hell.

He answered with a small smile on his face. "That was nothing. Next month, I have even bigger plans."

"So you were trying to kill me?" You accused with a chuckle.

"I invited you. Trust me, I only invite the people I want around on these outings."

Your heart fluttered, but you had to tell yourself to stop. No thoughts of something more between the two of you. Friends. Friends weren't a bad thing. The past few months, Alex has proved to be one of the best friends. Always there when you needed him. Maybe that was as far as it would go, but it was something you appreciated.

Thunder rumbled over the park. Alex looked up at the sky. The skies had shifted since you two were hiking in the wooded trail. Both of your eyes flickered to a picnic shelter. You didn't know where the strength came from to not die. It was fear. Life reminded you when the park suddenly lit under a lightning flash.

You walked to the picnic table and laid on your back on the table. Your feet rested comfortably on the seating. Alex sat next to your laying frame. The rain started to pour heavily. After a few minutes of listening to the rain, you sat up. A burning question became too much to ignore.

"Hey, Alex?"

"Yeah?"

You sat up. His hazel eyes locked on you. "Why me? Why did you invite me here? You could have asked Chris or anyone else that's more up to your speed."

The air around you shifted. The quiet peace you found yourself in now rocky like the storm around you. He looked away from you and gulped. He patted his shorts with his hands before rubbing them together.

"I wanted to see if you'd be okay with this. You could have left me so many times, and you didn't. Even when things were a little messy," he chuckled and picked a stick out of your hair.

Suddenly, the storm didn't matter. Your burning thighs were a thing of the past. All that matter was his lips on yours.

[nine-steps-forward]

[LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Everyday Creating Evening Skies, Nine Steps Forward

9SF: The public broadcast is going horribly just so you know.

ECES: Well, it's not like you were coming off as particularly friendly. Maybe try and share your interests, you are very skilled in energy efficiency and memory organization. Perhaps you could talk about that?

9SF: I doubt any of them want to hear something they've heard a thousand times over.

ECES: You tripled the capacity of my active memory! I doubt they've heard that kind of increase, especially on a gen one like myself.

9SF: Fine, if it gets mentioned I'll talk about it.

ECES: Thank you for making this effort, I know this is hard for you.

ECES: We only have so much time to contact our fellow iterators before our communications completely fail and-

9SF: If you are about to go on a rant about the eventuality of your collapsing and how 'there's only so much time left with you' let me save your proverbial breath. I know.

ECES: I know you know.

9SF: Then stop worrying over it.

ECES: If only that were possible.

9SF: If only.

[kobrafangs]

i've been compiling a bunch of maze runner headcannons over the past few weeks, and i decided to share what i have so far :) fyi most of these are ivytrio centered heheh ^_^ enjoy!!!

- newt would be a big oatmeal fan. he'd have it every day and put cubed fruits and maple syrup in it too. thomas prefers a plain toast with butter and always teases newt for "being an old coot"

- minho is rlly extra and likes to make these fancy pancakes that frypan taught him how to make

- newt would be addicted peach tea. every morning he goes to the convenience store and he buys a bottle before class

- newt loves bracelets and he made a matching pair for him and thomas :] (minho, newt, & thomas also have separate matching bracelets!)

- newt does poetry & art. he carries around a little sketchbook in his satchel where he jots random thoughts and sketches. his muse is thomas <3

- newt likes musicals & claymation/stop motion movies (his fav is dear evan hanson or kubo and the 2 strings) & thomas likes action movies (his favs are starwars or the spiderman movies)

- their fav movie to watch together is fantastic mr fox or coraline

- thomas and minho are both on their school's track team

- thomas downloaded duolingo as a joke but now he feels guilty if he misses even a single day so he has a daily streak of 479

- thomas almost threw up crying watching end game (he forced newt to watch it with him as well)

- thomas prefers calling/face timing over texting and he will do everything in his power to call

- he's also like the least coherent texter of all time He always has like 90 spelling errors in a 4 word text

- newt doesnt like calls but is also the driest texter of all time

- minho sends those corny Good Morning! gifs with a sunset in the background and glitter and flowers on it

- minho studies hard, passes his classes

- newt barely studies, passes his classes (hes just smart)

- thomas doesnt study whatsoever, passes his classes somehow

- minho has legible, normal-but-a-bit-wonky handwriting

- newt has a slanted cursive scrawl

- everything thomas writes is illegible

- minho has the dirtiest mind known to mankind

- when frustrated, minho gets really sassy, thomas gets snappy and fidgety, and newt just goes silent

- minho would go on 5 am runs and post a picture of him on his instagram story all sweaty and smiling and put the dumbest caption of all time on it

- thomas cannot eat unless he puts on a show

- minho scrolls on his phone and texts people while he eats

- newt raw dogs every meal No stimulation whatsoever. pure silence

- thomas is extremely ticklish. like hellishly ticklish. he will literally scream like hes getting stabbed and kick his feet if he gets tickled

- ivy trio stays up until like 3 am playing horror games. thomas is the one who always screams bloody murder at literally any noise, minho keeps yelling at thomas to shut up, and newt is the only one actually playing the game. they also love roblox

- minho and thomas play dress to impress and they get way too invested in it

- newt & sonya braid daisies in each other's hair

- thomas likes having his hair played with

- thomas likes chewing gum, specifically bubble gum because hes actually 8 years old and likes to blow bubbles

- newt looooovessss libraries he'd literally live in one if he could

- minho unironically says "where my hug at" to thomas and newt

- newt is usually the little spoon but he knows thomas likes it too so sometimes he insists on being the big spoon just so thomas is happy

- sun thomas, moon newt, comet minho

- thomas isn't allowed to play fnaf anymore because the last time he did he got jump-scared so hard he threw his phone against the wall so hard it made a hole

- thomas's favourite pony is pinkie pie, newt's is applejack, minho's is rainbow dash

- newt has a fear of heights so thomas and minho always have to beg for him to go to an amusement park with them

- danny gonzalez thomas, drew gooden newt, kurtis conner minho

- minho always quotes random tiktok audios that nobody gets so at one point he just started making up really specific ones that catered to whatever situation they're in and then proceed to gaslight newt and thomas into believing they're real

- dog thomas, cat newt, otter minho

- THOMAS TMNT FAN RAAAHHH

- newtmas' favourite date was an aquarium date. thomas is absolutely captivated by all the fish and newt is so enamoured

- newt would probably like manga (he really enjoyed saiki k, chainsaw man, and sxf)... its his guilty pleasure

- on minho's aforementioned morning runs, he BLASTS pop music thru his headphones. because of this he's literally almost deaf. he always goes "huh" "what?" "say again?" whenever talking to anybody but it especially makes newt so frustrated

- also. minho would love charli xcx SORRY I DONT MAKE THE RULES!!!! he really likes pop music because it gets him pumped up and energized

- when thomas is focused, his speech gets really curt and he kinda shuts the world out because hes so tunnel visioned. as a result people think hes just really rude and a pain to work with

- only newt can work with him effortlessly because they don't need words to communicate. a slight nose scrunch? thomas knows he made a mistake. quirk of the brow? newt nods his head to show his approval. thomas taps his fingers against the table? newt can tell he's frustrated. their relationship can be tacit but understood by one another which is why they work so well with each other

- thomas LOOOOOVES karaoke he literally will not hesitate to belt his heart out

- when thomas blushes, he blushes HARD. he gets really red in the face and gets super embarrassed and newt likes to tease him for it

- when drunk, thomas gets really chatty, newt becomes clingy, and minho turns into a whole nother person he gets SO rowdy and loud and crazy. life of the party kinda guy

and thats all for now hehe !! ^_^ hope these were entertaining enough :p

[chillerss]

₊ ⊹ 🐝 ⊹ ₊ I’ll Keep You Safe — TFA Bumblebee X fem!Reader ₊ ⊹ 🐝 ⊹ ₊

TWO — First Encounters

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, peril, little bit of Starscream being himself.

Credits: All drawings within the text were made for this fic by my good friend, Renny! You can find her on instagram as @/alopex.art

A/N: If anyone knows how to center text on tumblr, pls help a girl out lmao. I used to post fics on other accounts back before this update a few years ago but dang, I can NOT figure it out. Anyways, hope you enjoy this one. I had a blast writing it!!

₊ ⊹ 🐝 ⊹ ₊

        Swiftly, the mech that was just above you in the branches had reacted. He leaped from the leaves and barely made them rustle, then just like that he was before you, in between you and the rampant shepherd. He held one of his arms all the way out with the other closer to his form in a defensive stance, and the dog immediately skidded to a halt in the grass only about a dozen feet away or so. It’s head and tail were tucked low in submission and the pause in it’s movements gave it’s handler enough time to snag the leash, who promptly gave it a light tug backwards.

        Once the potential threat was under control, it took you a moment to realize that you were actually breathing really heavy. The Autobot standing in front of you relaxed his stature and stood straight up, optic visor never leaving the man as he wrapped the leash around his fist numerous times to ensure a tight hold. The mech spoke assertively, “Always pay close attention to and train your canine companion.”

        The guy nodded vigorously, “I’m so sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.”

        The Autobot nodded. And the guy walked away, muttering something under his breath, presumably scolding his dog.

        You didn’t even realize the mech had turned back to face you until his soft voice called you back to reality, “You’re alright.”

        You glanced at him sharply and took a shaky breath again, struggling to force the sudden adrenaline rush to wear off quicker. He wasn’t asking, he was telling you that you were okay. It was kind however, not like a command. “Uh, yeah,” You forced out the words after a second of pondering what to say, “T- thank you, sir.”

        “Prowl,” He said with that calming voice again, and nodded his helm, “And—of course.”

        All you could do was give him a sort of half smile after that. He did the same for a brief moment before he decided to turn and walk away, further into the park where the trees grew closer together.

        You forced another heavy breath from your lungs once you realized you were still holding it, and you let your knees buckle beneath you so that your spine was resting against the bark again. You looked around once more before rubbing your face with the palm of one hand.

        That was one of the Autobots! And he was so cool! You’d have to tell—

        Actually, could you tell Liz? You didn’t know her that well yet… What if she was angry about it? She did tell you not to get anywhere near them. What if she prevented you from going out alone again? You’d lose your mind!

        You looked up, back in the direction where the nimble mech had silently slipped off again into the leaves.

        It was fine. Everything had turned out just fine. So… she didn’t have to know, right?

₊ ⊹ 🐝 ⊹ ₊

        Liz did seem to know that something had happened yesterday. Maybe she had an intuition for strange occurrences. Or it might simply have been the fact that you were definitely not being absolutely suspicious about anything at all.

        “So… It’s only your third day here and I’m already thinking something interesting happened.” The woman across the table from you mused, a light tone to her voice as she eyed you over her coffee mug, “Care to share, [Name]?”

        Your eyes shot from your breakfast plate up to her’s, immediately trying to think of some random excuse, “Uh–”

        “Did you meet someone?” She smiled again, clearly enjoying your slight predicament, “You were gone for quite a while yesterday afternoon.”

        You blinked. Does she think I met a boy or something? Ew.

        With a fork twirling in your hand, you looked back down at the plate before you. Finally, an excuse made way. “No,” you started quietly, “Honestly, I was just trying to find somewhere quiet to sit outside for a bit. I like that park a few blocks down.” Poking the homemade waffle with the tip of your fork was suddenly super interesting. “But there’s not really a lot of quiet in a city, huh?”

        You didn’t look back up at her until she shifted her weight to face you. Liz had a look in her eye–somewhat like pity–and it made you wince inwardly. She reached out across the table to place a comforting hand on your forearm, “This is a huge adjustment, I know, kiddo. And I’m sorry for what happened in New York.” Holding eye contact with her was all of a sudden difficult. “But we’ll navigate this together, okay? You can talk to me about stuff. Anything you want. I won’t bite your head off.” She finished the last sentence with another soft smile and leaned away again, “Just… Don’t go wandering off too often, and especially not at night. It’s not safe out there with those… ignorant things out and about.”

        Your eyes searched her face. The obvious sneer that came with the word did not go unnoticed. But she perked up almost immediately and met your eyes once again as she spoke, “You promise?”

        “Yeah.” You swallowed hard. Lying was not something you wanted to do. “I promise.”

        But what were the actual odds of you coming across one of them again? Surely not likely. At all.

₊ ⊹ 🐝 ⊹ ₊

        Going for another walk sounded like the most amazing idea after spending two more days cooped up in the house. You didn’t move here to live in a big box at all times. Exploring was something you had to do before absolute insanity swooped in. Besides, it was daylight and there were people everywhere. You’d be fine without a doubt.

        The straight sidewalk before you was coming to an end as you left your suburb behind. On this block was where taller buildings began to climb and reach even further into the sky. Birds chirped loudly in the trees to your left, the same trees that lined the perimeter of the park where you’d briefly met that Autobot the other day.

        The thought excited you now more than you thought it would. You couldn’t stop thinking about that encounter. There was nothing else you could think to describe it other than simply how cool it was, to be able to see him—Prowl— up close. And even to talk to him!

        Sure, they might be dangerous. But they were the heroes of the city. How could they be dangerous? It was the other ones who posed a real threat–what with their very obvious disdain for humans. The Autobots were the good guys. It should be an honor to get to speak with one of them. And you did.

        You shook your head. Liz was at work for the day and had given you a bit of cash to get some more things for your room if you wanted anything. You tried to direct your attention back into that thought rather than the alien robots inhabiting the same city that you now lived in too.

        Some plants might do you some good, if you didn't kill them all like you usually did. Your Gramma really treasured her plants, and taking some home to put around your room felt like a nice idea. Warm and homey, just like her little cabin in the woods was. Plants, string lights, pillows, nicknacks. The idea of painting and decorating your own space was a huge breath of fresh air for someone whose life had essentially started all over.

        You figured you ought to look around for a job of some kind too. The start of summer break was still lingering fresh and you did not want to be inside the house for all of it. Plus, it would give you the opportunity to stay active and maybe meet some new people—maybe some friends.

        What a welcome surprise that would be. To have a friend. One that actually cares for you the same way you would care for them. However it was never something that came easily to you. People are mean, toxic, cruel. The teens back at school in New York made you feel like you'd already aged ten lifetimes. And your falling out with your former best friend, it didn’t exactly help that feeling.

        You shook the thought of him away and tried to focus in, back to your headphones and at the task at hand. The air around you was growing hotter as you walked. Strangers passed by on their way to run errands of their own, in suits and casual attire and everything in between. The liveliness of the city compared to your old cabin was really giving you quite a culture shock. So your eyes instead followed your sneakers to wherever they'd take you. You weren't even really sure where you were supposed to be looking for decorative things, plants, a job or a friend. But you still had to try. It wasn't like those things would magically fall at your feet.

        Through the mulling in your head, you hadn’t noticed that a large majority of the people around you had stopped. They were all gazing up in the same direction like some sort of hivemind. All of them noticed the low rumbling sounding off in the distance, but it was lost on you until you heard someone shout in alarm beyond the music in your ears.

        Your thoughtful trance was finally broken and you came to a stop immediately, pulling the headphones from your head and resting them around your neck. You swept your gaze across the people surrounding you, stopped dead in their tracks as they all stared fearfully into the sky. When you followed the same line of sight, it didn't show you anything new, until someone across the street yelled, “Look!”

        He pointed up. And a very loud and screeching roar broke through the air surrounding everyone on the sidewalk.

        Almost all of them dropped down to the ground in unison and you followed suit. That was no doubt the unmistakable sound of a fighter jet. Anyone would know the ear piercing, merciless scream of those engines.

        The people around you were immediately thrown into a panic, almost all of them scrambling to get out of the street and search for cover. The only few that stayed behind were the ones trying to catch a glimpse of the source of that monstrous sound—and you.

        Confusion gripped you for a split second and you froze. Why was there a jet here, in broad daylight and flying so obnoxiously low?

        Oh, right.

        Another deafening roar filled the sky and it only grew louder as it rapidly approached. Your head whipped around to find it, and you felt your stomach flip when you finally saw the source.

        An enormous seeker soared through the air ridiculously close to the tops of the buildings that surrounded you. In his claws, the mech carried something much smaller than himself, bright yellow and thrashing in his grip. The jet stopped to hover at a ridiculous height, cackling so loud that you could hear it perfectly clear before he extended his arm out so the ‘Bot was now dangling in midair.

        It was that little Autobot. Bee—or something.

        A tight knot of sudden adrenaline exploded in your bloodstream and all you could do was find yourself staring at the altercation taking place above. Screams erupted around you and the remaining people once beside you began to scatter in every direction.

        The Decepticon flew forward suddenly, violently slamming the smaller mech into the edge of the rooftop of the nearest building, “Pest!” His screeching voice reverberated through the air and echoed along the walls. Debris fell and scattered around the sidewalk, forcing you to leap and squash yourself against the wall of the same building. When you looked up again, the yellow Autobot was plummeting toward the pavement.

        You could only watch in horror as he fell into the ground at the base of the building. The shock the impact created in the ground below your feet made you stumble, pebbles and glass raining from everywhere. You cried out and dropped to your knees to stabilize and shield yourself.

        The seeker in the sky was shouting again in the direction he’d come from. Your eyes fell from his raging form hovering in the air and back down to the smaller mech, who was still in a heap on the ground as the dust around him settled.

        Slowly, he leaned up. His optics were shut and his denta clenched in a grimace, and only when the dust began to settle around him were you finally able to make out the sight of him really struggling to recuperate.

        Finally, his vibrant blue optics were visible. He turned his helm to gaze upward, no doubt looking for the Decepticon that had thrown him to the ground just seconds before. The enormous mech was still there, hovering in the sky and looking off to someplace you couldn’t make out from your position. He was still screeching retorts that way until you saw his blaster appear from the hidden panel on his arm. Then his helm snapped back to the yellow mech again, and he aimed.

        Oh, god. You thought, holding your breath. When you looked back down at the scout you found that he was still looking up at the Decepticon, but then his gaze turned sharply back down to you. And then he shouted. “Run!”

        But the command came too late.

        The sounds of the shots leaving the blaster blew everything else out of the water. Beams of light blasted the pavement everywhere and you let out a scream, totally convinced that the end was here. Unbeknownst to you, the Autobot shot one last quick glance up at the seeker and dove away from his original position, which promptly exploded in a cloud of fire not even a second after he left it.

        You brought your arms up to cover your head as best as you could and to block the searing heat blaring from every direction. All your thoughts of making it out of this predicament unscathed now vanished.

        Without warning, the wind was knocked from your lungs when something collided with you from the side. You closed your eyes and expected the worst kind of searing pain, but it didn’t come. That thought immediately left your mind when you realized the air was hard to take in. And without paying any mind to what was directly happening, all you could think about was trying to breathe in a panic. It was hard to take even a full breath of air in without feeling suffocated. A wracking cough shook your body and when you reached your hand up to your face to be able to cough into your hand was when it hit you.

        Something— someone, had picked you up.

        The sounds of more blasts pelting the pavement outside of your new shelter continued to rattle you. Then that Decepticon’s shrill voice sounded off again, furiously this time, “Get back here!”

        …What?

        Light shone behind your eyelids and your eyes snapped open, then you immediately went rigid at the new bizarre sense of surroundings. You now realized just how close to you the small Autobot had come—he was holding you, flush against his chassis and running at a full sprint down the street. That’s what hit you. He managed to grab you and then made a break for it.

        You vocalized your alarm and went to immediately lean away from him considering the chaos, but as the Autobot dodged and wove in between the flurry of blasts and flying rubble, he kept you squashed against him for your safety.

        “Go!” Someone shouted from a distance. The sound of a jet again drowned out the noise of all the firing momentarily before it began to die away, and the mech who had you in his arms slowed his movements a bit. A shadow enveloped the both of you and that was when he finally stopped in his tracks under a parking garage. An exasperated sigh fell from his frame and for a moment he was still stiff with shock, panting as if he had just finished running for his life before he finally allowed his limbs to slump. Another long few seconds passed before you dared to look up at the exhausted mech.

        Slowly and cautiously, you leaned the slightest bit away and took in a deep breath as you turned your head.

        He turned his helm to you at the same time, bright blue optics beaming down into your eyes. They had a soft look in them which was what surprised you the most really. A robot car who was just tossed from the top of a building by a robot jet like he was nothing more than a pebble? That was at least ten stories up—wasn’t he hurting? Or even a little bit shaken or emotional about getting thrown stories down into the asphalt?

        Apparently not. Apparently this sort of thing must happen to him often.

        You swallowed hard and whispered to break the silence, “Hi.”

        Immediately his face flushed and it seemed like he needed a second to collect himself. His optics flickered open and closed quickly and he shook his helm, “Hi. Uh– hi! You’re probably really freaked out, um—are you okay?”

        You couldn’t help the ‘whoa’ that left you when he moved suddenly, frantically searching your form up and down for any visible injuries, “I didn’t even check, I–” He held you out by your under-arms, dangling you in the air, “Nothing? No leaks, no gaping holes? Good?”

        “No! I’m– at least, I think?” You didn’t feel anything, so you figured so. His optics flurried all over as he inspected you up and down, wanting to be absolutely positive. There were likely dozens and dozens of thoughts swirling in that helm at the moment, so you piped up again. “I’m fine, really, thanks to you. T– thank you.”

        The ‘Bot turned back to look into your eyes again like he was checking for further confirmation. He pulled you against his chassis again and let out another sigh before leaning back against the wall of the garage once more. After he took a moment to gather himself, his face broke out in a smile that caught you off guard and he spoke with a cheeky tune in his voice, “Not a problem at all. You just met the fastest ‘Bot around!”

        You returned his smile and let out a snort, “For a second there I thought you teleported. That was pretty fast, I guess.”

        “You guess?” The Autobot leaned his helm forward with an exasperated look of feigned offense, “Listen, you don't even know how fast I am. I could burn so many donuts around you before you could even blink.”

        You brought your hand to your mouth in a loud laugh, “Crazy, I’ve never seen it before.” 

        The mech’s optics closed and he smiled brightly again, “Because I’m just that fast.”

        You folded your arms, gleeful with this quick banter, “Actually it’s because I just moved here. Like three days ago.”

        “Oh, wow. Okay, newbie,” The Autobot squinted and angled his helm at you playfully, very obviously also enjoying said banter, “Guess I’ll just have to show you sometime, if you can catch it. ‘Cause I’m just that fast.”

        Rolling your eyes at that just felt natural. “Wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

        The sound of a deep rumble in the distance snapped the two of you out of your shared little bubble, both heads swiveling back to look out at the skyscrapers from beneath the edge of the parking garage. The Autobot winced and muttered, “Oh, yeah. Almost forgot about Screamer.”

        “Uh–” He turned to look at you again and you shared a look. His optics blew up and his face flushed again, then he scrambled to put you down when he realized he was still holding you in his arms. “Sorry, but duty calls!”

        You couldn’t take your eyes off his form. He had a bright smile on and his fists came to rest on his hips, almost the way a hero might pose. You couldn’t tell if you were still in awe or if you wanted to teasingly roll your eyes again. Instead, your mouth was agape and you hadn’t even realized it until you spoke again, “What’s your name?”

        His helm titled in confusion for a split second before he blinked again and laughed. “Oh, right. Newbie.” The mech pointed his own thumb into his chassis with another smug smile, “I’m Bumblebee. Turbo-speed Autobot scout, and now savior of… uh–?”

        “[Name],” A giggle broke out of you again, “Human Detroit newbie.”

        “Savior of [Name]. That’s got a nice ring to it.” Bumblebee winked, saluted you, then turned to head back the way he came. As he ran off, he pointed back at you and called, “Keep a lookout for Detroit’s fastest ‘Bot, [Name]!”

        “Oh, trust me,” Your eyes followed him, watching in awe as he transformed down into a yellow car and sped off toward the continuing scuffle, right up until he disappeared from sight behind another building, “It’s gonna be impossible not to.”

₊ ⊹ 🐝 ⊹ ₊

        Your sneakers led you back down the now familiar sidewalk close to your new home. A sideways glance toward the house in front of you promoted you to turn back around to gaze at the city again.

        The lights glittering in the night sky was still not something you’d get used to seeing soon, you thought. You missed living in the woods. Which was why you’d spent almost the whole day in the park again to decompress from what had happened earlier that morning.

        You looked away and stepped onto the walkway leading up to the house from the sidewalk. As you climbed the couple of steps up to the house to reach for the front door, it flew open at such a speed you almost jumped back.

        Liz looked you up and down with her jaw agape as she stood in the doorway, “[Name]! I’ve been calling you!”

        Crap. You stared at her for a brief moment, “I’m sorry, Liz. I–”

        Your aunt pulled the screendoor open and gently reached for you, “Those aliens were at it again! Were you near it? Did you get hurt?”

        “No, no… I’m fine,” Your hand reached up to rest on her’s as she held your arms, “I saw it starting so I got away.”

        A heavy sigh fell from her and she slumped her shoulders, “Honey. I don’t want you getting hurt, please.”

        For a brief moment, you wondered if she knew you were lying. But that was impossible. “I know. I don’t want to get hurt either, believe me.”

        “Next time that happens, you come straight home.” The woman stepped off to the side to allow you to enter the house, and she followed close behind as she continued, “Unfortunately this is something we have to worry about often now. And if it wasn’t for my work, we’d be moving.”

        The thought of moving again made you wince. You dropped your phone and wallet on the table next to the door, kicking your sneakers off at the same time. Liz folded her arms as she watched you and continued, “Those Autobots cause nothing but trouble. Stay as far away from them as you can. Yeah?”

        “Yeah! Yeah.” You stood straight and faced her again.

        The woman stared you in the face, and you had no reason to think she knew anything, but something about her demeanor and the things she was saying made you think otherwise.

        Until her eyes softened, she let out a sigh, and she dropped her arms down to her sides. “I’m just glad you’re safe. Are you hungry?”

        “No, I’m okay. I ate while I was out. Thank you, though.” You tossed your phone back into your pocket and pointed sheepishly down the hall, “Think I’m gonna go to bed early tonight. I’m… I’m really tired. It’s been a long week.”

        Another long pause through a quiet look. Then she nodded with a quiet sigh, “Alrighty, kiddo. I don’t blame you.” Liz approached slowly and gently pulled you into a tight hug, “Just yell for me if you need anything, okay?”

        “Yeah,” You let out a quiet breath. You were grateful for her, but a lot was running through your mind at the moment. “Thank you.”

        With that, she released you and you ambled down the hall. Liz watched you go quietly and stared for a moment longer, worry etching her brows.

₊ ⊹ 🐝 ⊹ ₊

        Your bed looked like the most comfortable thing in the universe the moment you walked into your room. And unsurprisingly, it was. Flopping down onto it was the next best thing in the universe.

        A moment of silence with your face pressed into the blanket was definitely needed. And you stayed like that until your lungs screamed for a proper breath of air. After you rolled over onto your back, you stared at the plain ceiling and thought to yourself for a long few moments.

        Wow. That actually happened. Getting a second encounter with one of the Autobots within days of each other? And within days of moving to this city? No way.

        Bumblebee seemed nice. He was bubbly and energetic and seemed like the kind of guy to crack a joke at the most inappropriate time. Exactly your sense of humor. Maybe if you–

        What? No, [Name]. You shook your head and tried reasoning with yourself in your subconscious. You couldn’t even make human friends back at home. And you definitely won’t make friends with an Autobot. First, you’ll probably never talk to him again. And second, Liz would kill you!

        But… she doesn’t have to know, right?

        No. There was no way you’d ever be able to hide a bright yellow Autobot. You–

        “Gah, [Name]!” You whisper-yelled and grabbed the pillow next to you, throwing it into your own face and using a now-muffled voice to scold yourself, “You won’t have to hide a bright yellow Autobot because there won't be a bright yellow Autobot to hide.”

        Your fist pulled the fabric out of your scrunched face and your arm fell beside you. Sluggishly you got up, grabbed your sweatpants, and opened the door to head to the bathroom.

        The light flicked on and you came to find yourself staring back in the mirror. Loose strands of hair fell in front of your eyes. You really did look tired. But you couldn't shake your thoughts from just a moment ago.

        What if you did become friends with the Autobots? A girl can dream, right?

        A harsh eye-roll at your reflection concluded that you should drop the idea.

        Yeah, right.

₊ ⊹ 🐝 ⊹ ₊

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[prettyboytsum]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ late night confession I kuroo tetsurou pairing: kuroo x reader tags: fluff, one-shot wc: 613

“i think i love you.” you slurred, words tumbling before you can even thoroughly understand what you’re saying. a familiar pool of regret starts to set as soon as the sentence slips off your tongue.  kuroo chuckles, a hand on the wheel and another resting on his lap. the road was dimly lit, empty. save for a couple of stray cars that had business so late in the evening or early in the morning, depending on who you ask.

you weren’t quite sure how he found you. maybe a friend called when you were downing a drink or it was a stupid incoherent text you sent earlier when you had the courage—courage that was (very) quickly fleeting.  there was silence after the confession, aside from the silent hum of the engine and the clicking of signals as kuroo continued driving. if you were more sober, you would’ve picked up on the signs of his nervousness. the picking of his nails followed by the muffled tapping on his lap. the frequent running of fingers through his hair. the nibbling of his lips, almost enough to pull it raw. 

but you were hardly thinking straight and the pool of regret only kept growing. the lingering curiosity of his response - or lack thereof - almost gnawing at you. 

“do you not?” you pout. a pout that was familiar to kuroo from all his years of knowing you when you asked for a ride home. the same downturn of your lips when he was teasing you or when you were begging him to come to the bar with a couple of your college friends earlier that evening. 

“love me?” he chuckles, turning left. he stops at a red light. the moon shines brightly over the car, lighting up the sparse intersection. it’s cliche, a drunk night out only to be picked up by your best friend you might be a little too in love with. 

“you know what i mean.” your fingers pick on his jacket nervously. he offered it earlier, claiming the evenings were starting to get colder and that you would regret being sick and hungover. 

“love you?” he looks at you briefly before the red turns to green and the car starts to move again. you almost feel childish asking. it seems like everything he does for you is out of love. your packed lunches with him, car rides home despite late meetings on campus, and your respective spare keys sitting on a matching set of keychains kuroo brought back from a trip out of town. 

it’s silent again and your pout deepens, brows furrowing. the only reason you’re still talking is because you can always claim to be tipsy. but with the next words he utters, you aren't sure how long you can keep the act up. 

“ask me again tomorrow.” he muses. you glare playfully but a sense of dread washes over you. you let out a silent sigh, or however silent a tipsy lovesick best friend could, when you realize the smartest thing to do is to pretend to be too drunk to remember when morning comes. 

he looks over at you again, both hands resting on the wheel. you’re leaning on the window, arms clutching the jacket. your lips seem to be jutted permanently. 

but it’s the same lips that told him your deepest secret at the playground when you were eight. the same lips that whispered the answers to a sociology test when you were twelve. the same lips that kissed him, just once, at a freshman party which was never to be talked about, when you were eighteen. 

he smiles.  “i’d be an asshole to confess while you’re drunk.” 

author's note: first post for 2024! ^__^ all reblogs and likes are appreciated, hope everyone had a great celebration! ⓒ prettyboytsum 2024. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise these works on any other platform or account.

[lestappenforever]

DROP THE TEXT EXCHANGE FIC 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

I would like to preface this by saying that threats are not a good incentive to get me to write anything, anon. But, you're in luck this time because I was already feeling inspired as hell.

The text exhange in question.

Dedicated to @f1writingbyme, for once again being my muse, allowing me to scream ideas at her, and helping me decide on the very important details along the way.

AO3 link.

---

There's a hand on his shoulder during his post-qualifying interview in the media pen; a firm squeeze followed by equally firm pats, and Charles knows who it is before he even lays eyes on Max. After all, he could recognize that touch anywhere, at any time.

His face lights up with pure glee at the sight of the Dutchman, the way it always does.

Green eyes meet blue, and despite Max's own disappointing qualifying landing him in a measly P6, the Red Bull driver looks at Charles with nothing but genuine joy and pride. Because in spite of his own struggles, Max is irrevocably, endlessly happy for Charles.

Max knows how much this means to him — has been there for every single disappointing weekend the Monégasque has experienced in his home race over the past few years. He's seen the heartbreak in his eyes, listened to him raging about the mistakes made there in the past; both by Charles himself and by his team. As with practically everything else in his career, Max has been right there with him. And for that reason, Charles is absolutely certain that even if Max had ended up having to start tomorrow's race from P20, the Dutchman still would have found it in himself to be as happy for Charles as he would have been for himself had Max been the one to secure pole.

They clasp hands like they have done hundreds, if not thousands, of times before. Max's grip is tight, but Charles' is even tighter, as he is overcome with a realization that has hit him so many times before over the years:

He doesn't want to let go. And he can tell by the way Max squeezes his hand one more time that the feeling is mutual.

Charles sees his own emotions, his own desires, reflected in those beautiful blue eyes — can feel the electricity simmering between them, just beneath the surface, the way it has done for so many years. Always there, close enough for them both to reach out and grasp and yet, just out of reach. It's a line neither of them have dared to cross, both highly aware of the fact that if — when — they do, there will be no going back.

The unasked question that has always been there, but never spoken aloud, lies heavy between them.

'Are you feeling this, too?'

'No,' the other would always answer, just as silently as the question itself. Even if it's a lie. Even if it has always been a lie; one they've both told themselves and each other as a way to ensure they don't step over that line.

But, in that moment, Charles is sure he would never even want to go back. Sure that if there is one thing he wants almost as much as winning his home race tomorrow, it's crossing that line with Max. To give into that oh-so-powerful pull between them they've both been trying and failing to ignore for God knows how long.

They maintain eye contact only for a mere few seconds, but it's enough for Charles to see that flash in Max's eyes.

He wants to cross that line, too. It's about time. It's long overdue.

Max lets go of his hand and walks away, and Charles looks down at the ground briefly, trying to will his cheeks not to flush with the intensity of such a brief exchange in front of the camera, before returning his focus to the interviewer.

His mind, however, never lets go of Max.

If Charles hadn't already felt like he was flying, he sure as hell is now.

***

His phone vibrates in his pocket a little while later, and Charles feels his heart picking up the pace as he reads Max's name on the display.

'Congratulations on pole! Well deserved!'

His heart flutters.

'Thank you! I'm so happy 😊'

He sends a second text immediately after.

'It's a shame you're not up there with me, though'

Max doesn't leave him waiting long for a response.

'Still 78 laps to go, mate. You think I won't do everything to get into the top 3 tomorrow?'

Charles glances around, making sure nobody is paying attention to him as he tries and fails to bite back a smile as excitement starts coursing through him.

'You really think you can overtake two Mercedes, at least one McLaren and a Ferrari?'

It's a stupid question, Charles knows, because if anyone can do it in Monaco, it's Max fucking Emilian Verstappen. But he can't resist the jab; can't resist the urge to try to get under Max's skin, just a little. Just like he hasn't been able to resist since he and Max first met back in karting when when they were literal children.

The bubble with the three dots appears briefly before disappearing and reappearing a few seconds later. Then:

'To get to share a podium with you in your home race?'

'I could overtake Michael, Seb and Ayrton if I had to.'

The smile turns into a full-blown grin, and Charles feels giddy as he reads the two messages over and over again. The anticipation thrumming within him, bubbling just underneath the surface of his skin, is so overwhelming he needs three attempts to send his next message that consists of a single word:

'Yeah?'

Then, with more confidence:

'Prove it.'

Max's response is immediate.

'Oh, I will.'

As he pockets his phone, his heart beating wildly in his chest and his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he knows Max isn't just talking about the race.

He hadn't thought he could feel even more excited about tomorrow than he already did, but as he has done so many times with so many things in the past, Max proves him wrong.

***

On Sunday, Charles is preparing to leave his driver's room and make his way to the garage to get ready for the race. But as he opens the door, he's met with the familiar face of Max Verstappen.

"Max, what are you—,"

The Dutchman places a hand on Charles' chest and firmly pushes him back into the room, following him inside and closing the door behind him with his foot in one swift movement. Charles barely has time to process what's happening before Max has grabbed a hold of his shoulder, turned him around and pushed him up against the wall by the door.

Charles has effectively lost his ability to speak as he watches Max lean in until their lips are mere inches apart.

"I needed to see you alone, before the race," he says, voice barely above a whisper. Max's hands drop from his shoulders, instead sliding down his chest, his stomach, coming to a halt on his waist. "To wish you luck."

Charles swallows past the lump in his throat. "You think I need it?" he asks, trying to sound calm and collected, but his voice betrays him almost as much as his dilated pupils do.

"No," Max says immediately, allowing his lips to brush featherlight against Charles'. It's not a kiss, and even if Charles so desperately wants it to be, he doesn't cross that line.

Not yet.

"But I wanted to do it anyway," the Dutchman adds, moving one hand from Charles' waist and raising it to cup Charles' jaw instead, letting his thumb drag gently over the Monégasque's bottom lip.

It sends a full-body shiver through him; one Max notices if the way the small smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

"Good luck, Charles," Max whispers, thumb still on Charles' bottom lip as he leans in closer, closer, until his lips are touching the back of his own thumb, the digit being the only thing separating them.

Charles' heart is beating so hard that he's sure Max must be able to feel his pulse against his thumb. The Dutchman's other hand tightens on Charles' waist, his pupils practically making the blue of his iris disappear altogether.

The thumb moves and Charles thinks that Max will finally — fucking finally, after far too many years — kiss him.

Only for Max to lean his head to the side and instead presses a gentle kiss to Charles' cheekbone; a careful brush of lips against soft skin.

"I'll see you on the podium," he breathes against the skin of Charles' cheek, before pulling away completely and turning to put his hand on the door handle. He pauses before opening the door, looking at Charles with an expression the Monégasque doesn't think he's ever seen before.

"Hey, Charles?"

The Monégasque blinks at him.

"Are you feeling this, too?" Max asks him then, voicing the question that has only been asked through looks up until that point.

And Charles, knowing there is only one correct answer — knows there is only one answer that conveys the truth — sticks with the lie.

For now.

"No."

Max smiles at him, a soft and private thing. Charles' own expression morphs into one of adoration and longing. He returns the smile.

"Me neither."

And with that, Max opens the door and walks out of Charles' driver's room, as if he hasn't just turned both their worlds upside down.

[blackbird5154]

Fanfiction masterlist

Hey! I'm Blackbird, She/Her, and I'm a Ghost fic-writer and artist! I write texts in Russian and then translate them into English. If you read in Russian or are ready to use an automatic translator, here is my main account with all my works. For English-speaking readers, I've made this masterlist with my translations.

The Third Advent [ru] [en]

Summary: After Papa Emeritus III was deposed and killed by his fellow believers, he laid in a coffin for five years. But nothing in the world lasts forever, not even death. After returning from the dead, Papa intends to take revenge on everyone who betrayed him. It's time to check the common statement that revenge is sweet.

Tags: Gen, Action/Adventure, Revenge, Resurrection, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Mysticism, Friendship, Romance, Character Study, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Majesty [ru] [en]

Summary: Just two words: a glove kink. If you don’t have it yet, now you will. Yes, THOSE gloves.

Tags: Papa Emeritus III x fem!Reader, Smut, 18+, priest kink, hand kink, glove kink, petting, foreplay, soft dom

Pleasures of Hell [ru] [en]

Summary: Papa Emeritus has decided to give you a little lesson in arithmetic. It promises to be a long night.

Tags: Papa Emeritus III x fem!Reader, Smut, 18+, Heartbeat Kink, Cunnilingus, Petting, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Manual stimulation, Mention of sexual trauma

Hide and Seek [ru] [en]

Summary: Something about Terzo's irresponsible attitude to work meetings. The fic is dedicated to the kink "silent sex".

Tags: Papa Emeritus III x fem!Reader, PWP, smut, oral sex, silent sex, church sex, toe flirting, Papa is a little bit a dominant bitch but it won't be for long))

The stars go out at dawn [ru] [en]

Summary: This fic is written under the impression of the song by Spiritual Front 'Choose Death'. Please listen to it, it's just amazing.

Tags: Papa Emeritus III x Cirice, 18+, Angst, Loss, Farwell, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love, Foreplay, Petting, Manual stimulation, Mention of Religion

Black Mass (In Freestyle) [ru] [en]

Summary: While researching materials on sexual magic, I came across what is known as “energy pumping”. Never has a ficwriter gotten better carte blanche on the justifiable use of the “orgasm control” kink. So… satanic sex instructor Terzo Emeritus at your service!

Tags: Papa Emeritus III x fem!Reader, PWP, smut, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Nipple Play, Begging, Orgasm Control, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Soft Dom, Manual stimulation, Foreplay, Overstimulation, Mention of Religion

Herodias [ru] [en]

Summary: These are musings inspired by looking at one particular music magazine cover. Warning: a realistic description of a severed head.

In a Kingdom by the Sea [ru] [en]

Summary: What if we imagine that Terzo was not only a Papa, but also a papa...?

Otium cum dignitate [ru] [en]

Summary: This one is dedicated to all those who are tired.

Tags: Papa Emeritus III x fem!Reader, fluff, romance, hurt/comfort

Analytics

I also write analytical notes. It's important to me to not only fantasize, but to research the character!

Encyclopedia of Terzo

Thanks to the research of concerned fans, there is quite a lot of material about Terzo's personally. It occurred to me to collect them in one post for those who want to get acquainted with the canonical image of Terzo. This catalogue uses materials from two users, Cityofmeliora's and myself. You can use them for fanfiction or just for your own amusement.

Papa Emeritus III: The analysis of mythological references [ru] [en]

This analysis is based on the Prologue to Meliora written by Peter Bebergal. At first glance, this text may seem like a set of nonconnected paragraphs, as well as the music video "From the Pinnacle to the Pit" can be considered as a simple cutting of scenes from old movies. But together these two materials can shed light on the mythology of the Meliora Era and the story of Papa Emeritus III - his origin, background and motives. Let's try to understand how it happened that in the image of Papa combined three mythological characters: Prometheus, Icarus and Lucifer.

Some possible sources of inspiration for Meliora design [ru] [en]

It is known that when creating Meliora, Tobias Forge was inspired by the movie "Metropolis" and the art deco style of the 1920-30s. Here I want to share my findings of some borrowed elements in the third era.

I am always interested to hear your feedback and love to debate. If you have something you'd like to say, please leave comments. It helps to keep writing!

Also, here is my fanart archive.