#i smell a multichapter fic

[matches-only-burn]

AU where kyber crystals get their power from channeling mighty force users that have passed on. Anakin connects to his on Ilum and starts seeing the ghost of the man that partially inhabits his blade.

All of the masters are like, 'oh yes the highly disturbed child we just saved from slavery has an imaginary friend that tracks this is fine' and then they look a little closer and see that a goddamn dyad has formed just from their force signature meeting and it very quickly becomes 'OH SHIT THE HIGHLY DISTURBED CHILD WE JUST SAVED FROM SLAVERY IS ACTUALLY SEEING GHOSTS'

shenanigans ensue

[bunniesanddeer]

Heat: Part One

Part Two

This was my first attempt at smut, so you will all get to see it now. I hope you'll like it. I originally posted it on AO3. If it is terrible, I apologize. This is also set in the same universe as "Bound to Hell" and "Going Straight to Hell", but it is NOT canon to the official multichapter fic which will be posted when it is half done. So it is the same characters, with a much more developed relationship.

Pairing: Alastor x Reader (AFAB) Lamb/Sheep Reader

Warnings: References to abuse, going into heat, no a/b/o, female anatomy, Rosie being a good friend, references to Soul Bonds, something you can ask about haha. Minors DNI. This part is not explicit, but the next is! Alastor speaks French.

Word Count: 3,690

Alastor knew something was wrong very early on. He hadn’t been able to identify what it was specifically, but it had been unsettling. His shadow had quaked and quivered at something he couldn’t see, and his skin had felt tight. When he had left his room, the sound of crickets in the swamp fading behind him, the feeling had grown worse. It had made the Overlord not quite jumpy, but definitely uncomfortable. Then he saw the cause, stumbling from their room.

His little lamb that was slowly carving out a spot for themself in his cold, dead heart, was the cause. Their wool was disheveled, nearly matted. Their eyelids were drooping low, as if they hadn’t slept. He watched them stumble for a bit before he caught their scent. Due to their bond, and proximity, he was quite attuned to their scent. Normally, they were faintly sweet with a hint of florals, but now? All he could focus on was the deep, heady smell of them. Alastor wasn’t sure what had happened, but it was clearly drastic.

“My dear,” he called. The sound of his voice had made the little demon perk up. They whipped around, and nearly sprinted to his side. They were often enthusiastic to see him in the morning, but this was new. 

“Alastor!” Their voice was filled with joy, their eyes full of unwarranted excitement. The exhaustion that had painted their face only a moment before, was gone. Their hands wrapped around his lower arm, and they nuzzled into his side. They cooed, “I missed you.”

Alastor’s brows furrowed. How very peculiar! His little lamb never initiated contact without asking first. He didn’t mind their touch, it was rather pleasing. He enjoyed the softness of their skin, and the gentleness of their hands. They still liked to ask, though, some strange need to make him feel comfortable. (He thought it was unnecessary, he was an Overlord, and he owned their soul; if he wanted them off, they’d be off of him). Not to forget, they had ‘missed’ him? The two had been separated a handful of hours at most. What was going on?

“My dearest, are you feeling alright,” he asked, lifting their chin with his other hand. “You seem a little out of sorts.”

Their eyes wavered, and the exhaustion leeched back into them. The grasp they had on his arm tightened. “I’m sorry, Al. I feel really weird.” Their eyelids fluttered, and they released a strangled breath. “I feel like I’m burning up. Which is weird, it’s winter still.” 

Alastor could feel his smile wavering. He hadn’t heard of sinners getting fevers for anything other than strange illnesses. No one else in the hotel was sick, so how could they have contracted anything? He looked them up and down, noting the flush to their cheeks, and the sweat building up on the back of their neck. They were sick. 

“Hey, can… can demons get colds?” They asked, almost as if it was a joke. Before Alastor could muster a response, they collapsed. He deftly caught them, his surprise showing on his face. 

“Oh, dear,” he muttered to himself. Who would know about these kinds of things? Perhaps Charlie? But she was supposed to be rather busy that day. Perhaps Rosie would know! She had been in Hell for quite a long time. She was bound to know something. 

Alastor arranged his little soul-bond in his arms, and stalked back to their room. Their room was full of that smell that had thrown him off just before. It made his skin tingle, and his head feel full. He couldn’t account for it, but it wasn’t something he disliked. The discomfort came from the confusion that was growing in his breast. What a strange sensation!

Alastor wrapped them up in their blankets, hoping that perhaps getting warmer would help their fever. Before he stepped away from their bedside, he stroked their cheek with the back of his fingers. How soft their skin was! He stared down at their little face, taking in every detail. The white freckles that looked like stars against their gray skin, the way their lashes fluttered in their sleep. Their plush lips, just barely open, and the sharp teeth he knew lay behind them. His chest tightened, something aching deeply, as he looked at them. His smile tightened. Alastor decided it was time to go. 

On the way out of the hotel, he called for Husker. The cat-demon was clearly disgruntled at being called on earlier than he’d prefer, but Alastor didn’t care. 

“My little lamb seems to be sick. They’re in bed right now. If they don’t stir before noon, wake them up and make them eat something.” Alastor let the underlying threat color his words. He wouldn’t have their situation get worse just because Husker wanted to be lazy. They would eat, before he got back, and then he would help them get better. But first, he needed to know what was wrong.

“Alastor! My good friend! What brings you in on such a fine day!” Rosie’s fervor was nearly infectious, but Alastor had a mission. The feather on her hat bobbed as she tilted her head in question.

“Ah, I seem to have a problem,” Alastor replied. “Do you mind if we perhaps have a conversation in a less, public space?”

The deer-demon glanced about, as if to remind her of their location. Rosie nodded, still smiling happily. She gestured with a flick of her wrist, and led the way to the back of her store. 

When the two had finally settled into their seats, Alastor sighed. Rosie went about pouring some tea for them as he worked on his words. He conjured his microphone, idly tapping it. Something heavy weighed in his chest, and the feeling wouldn’t go away.

“Oh Alastor! You know you’re my favorite pal! Just tell me what’s on your mind. You look all twisted up!” Rosie sat back in her chair, sipping from a teacup that she held delicately. Her smile was welcoming and patient, and it soothed Alastor minutely. 

He was thankful for her breaking the silence, as it forced him to finally speak. “Do you know what might cause a sinner to get sick? Even if they have not been exposed to anything?” 

Rosie hummed to herself, a knowing look in her dark eyes. “Oh, this is about your little paramour, isn’t it?”

Alastor’s smile twitched, faintly. Of course! Rosie would be able to tell immediately. She was intelligent, and she was better at reading people than even himself. Not to mention, the two of them had been friends a long time. She could read him like an open book. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “They seem to be sick, and I don’t know what it could be. I’ve never seen nor experienced such a thing, here.” His claws tap at the armrest of the plush chair, as he props his chin up with the other hand. “They looked positively dreadful this morning! Claiming that they felt hot, despite the cold.” 

Rosie set down her teacup, letting a hand cover her smile as she laughed. “Oh dear! That is quite something.” She laughed again when Alastor let his annoyance show. “They’re a sheep, are they not?” 

Alastor nodded, not quite knowing what that aspect of his little soul-bond had to do with it. 

“And they are female, yes?” Alastor nodded again, his confusion growing. “Oh dear. You said some time ago that they had reciprocated the soul-bond, yes? And they’ve been down here for several months now.”

Rosie trailed off, as if expecting him to suddenly understand what she was implying. Alastor couldn’t think of how any of that had made them sick. Rosie picked up on how deeply confused he was, and sighed.

“My, my. You really don’t know about how demon manifestations work, beyond what pertains to yourself, do you?” Rosie waved a hand. “As you know, the form we take in death often have something to do with our life. The way we died, the way we lived, all of it contributes in one way or another. Lambs, sheep, whatever you want to call them, tended to have harder lives where they had no control. Often dealing in their bodily autonomy, or lack thereof.”

Alastor’s smile shrunk. Well of course, he had known what their life had been, but seeing that their new form was a reminder of that, each day? It made him uncomfortable. He hoped that his little lamb didn’t know why they were a lamb. 

“Yes, I see that you have connected some of the dots. They’re lambs to the slaughter, all of them in one way or another. Their forms, because it’s Hell, often come with some terrible side effects that don’t show for a while. Their stress needs to level out, and they need to feel comfortable with the demons they are frequently near.” Rosie raises her brows, waiting for him to get it, but he doesn’t. “When they’ve settled, and they’re around demons they like, or they bond, the side effects kick in. Your little lamb, is experiencing that now.”

“So, they will get sick, because they’re comfortable?” Alastor feels mildly bamboozled, as he tries to clarify.

“Alastor, no,” Rosie sighs. She rubs her forehead, carefully avoiding cutting herself with her claws. “They’re in heat.”

Alastor shifts in his seat, that uncomfortable feeling tingling in his brain again. “Heat? Like, like an animal?”

“Yes, like a ewe, Alastor. They will seem sick, for about a day, then they will be clingy with you for the next, and then it will happen.” Rosie leans back in her chair, again. Unlike Alastor, she seemed entirely comfortable with the topic of discussion. “They will have the strongest drive for sex that they will have ever experienced. Going without is said to hurt terribly, like their whole body is on fire. They’ll seek out comfort in you, or by themself. Whatever quells the urge.”

Alastor felt like he had been shot. Never in all his years, alive or dead, had he heard of such a thing occurring. How tedious! How disgusting. His nose scrunched up at the thought of having to deal with such a thing himself, but the thought of his lamb… Heat rushed down his chest and into the pit of his belly. His skin was itching. The thought of his soul-bonded needing him in such a way… Alastor could not tell himself that he disliked such an idea.

He was deeply aware of how much he had grown to care for them. When he had finally relinquished some control in their relationship, offering to tie their little string tight on his end, he knew it was cemented. Alastor had a bizarre, and new, kind of love for the sweet thing he had made a deal with. They were his, and for the first, and only time, he could say, he was also theirs. He still owned their soul, but it was different. Their relationship had shifted over time. There were no more orders, and there was no more fear. His little lamb had grown comfortable, happy even, and this ‘heat’ was the proof.

Something akin to pride ignited in his chest. Yes, they were happy with him. What a delightful thing to know for sure! 

“What should I do? I am not ready for anything of that nature, and I don’t want to risk them. They have had far too many choices taken from them,” Alastor says. His hands clasp together as he gives Rosie a moment to think. He didn’t want them forced into such an awful thing again. The realization that their experiences in life had caused this…anger was a word that barely described his feelings on the matter. He wanted to tear whatever being was in charge of such transformations into pieces. 

“They will need something, at some level. Tomorrow, bring it up to them, ask. Let them know everything you know, and give them a choice. They can try and ride it out alone, or you can be beside them. How you handle it beyond that is between the two of you.” Rosie stands, a gentle smile on her face. “You should get going, my friend. You should get back to them. You’ll want to feed them well over these two days. They’ll need the energy, no matter what happens.”

Alastor stands, thanking her, almost absentmindedly. His trip back to the hotel is spent in silent pondering. He needed to plan. He wasn’t sure if sex was something he desired for himself, but he knew, deep down, he would do it for them; he’d give them that pleasure, that joy. Alastor could also feel something possessive growing. The idea of anyone else getting to commit themselves to such a task made him grit his teeth. No, if anyone was going to touch the sheep-demon, it would be him. 

Angry flames licked at the bottom of his belly, something in his thoughts igniting them. They were his, and his alone. He would be the one to drive them to pleasure. (He ignored the memory of Richard and his deeds. None of that changed anything about what they deserved. It just meant that he needed to more carefully heed their wants and needs. He would give them the bliss that no other had). 

Alastor smiled widely when he returned to the hotel. Now he needed to sit by their side for the night, and then speak with them tomorrow. Perhaps a quick discussion with the others as well? The two of them would not be available for the next few days, and he needed to make sure they would remain undisturbed. Perhaps a different location would be ideal.

When you woke, all you could focus on was the smell of food. Alastor was a very good cook, and you knew from the lovely smell of spices, that it had to have been his food. When you finally cracked your eyes open, you were delighted to find yourself right. The demon was sitting on the edge of your bed, a steaming bowl cupped in one of his hands.

“Good morning, dearest,” he said. There was something akin to apprehension on his face, but you were far too hungry to immediately comment on it. “I figured you would be quite hungry, when you awoke, so I took the liberty of making you something hardy.”

You smiled widely in thanks. How sweet he could be to you! It was new, in your relationship, but you loved it. You held out your hands, thanking him as you did, but he didn’t hand you the bowl. Alastor merely gestured for you to sit up, and scoot back. You did so, hesitantly, your back settling against your headboard. You held out your hands again, but he settled himself close to you on the bed. With his legs swung over the side, he started spooning the stew.

“No, hey, wait a minute! I can feed myself!” You glared at him, confusion and a tinge of anger mixing together. 

Alastor sighed, affection leaking into his words. “I know, my love, but I need to tell you something quite…hmm, difficult might be the best word here. I want you to just listen, and focus on eating. Plus, I just love taking care of you.” One of his hands edges towards your face, claws softly stroking your cheek. He pulls it back, and spoons some more stew. “You can ask questions when I am done, but for now, eat.”

You grumble to yourself before opening your mouth to accept the spoon. Although you were loath to admit it, the stew tasted great, and him feeding you only felt slightly patronizing. 

“Do you recall how you felt yesterday? You said you felt like you were burning up. Well, when you fainted, I went to find out what could be the cause. I went to my good friend Rosie, you remember her?” He lets you nod before feeding you another spoonful. “I came to the conclusion that she would know enough about Hell, to know what was causing your sudden illness. 

“So I described it vaguely, and she realized I was talking about you, dearest. And she said some things that upset me, more than I had been willing to admit at the time.” Alastor sighs, static, that seemed ever present in his voice, fizzling out. The room was quiet for a moment as he let you swallow your food. “The way we manifest in Hell, has to do with the way we lived, and died. The things we experienced. I know you know some of this, but I also found out something more specific about your form.”

Alastor goes quiet, and you frown. Whatever could he have learned to cause the demon that never stops talking to go quiet? 

“Sheep demons are often the result of lives lived that had very little control over themselves or their situation. You are a sheep, because you had such little bodily autonomy in your life, my love.” He feeds you another spoonful as your eyes widen. He snorts to himself. “It made me so incredibly angry, to have that confirmed to me. It only got worse when she finally told me why that had anything to do with your illness.

“You aren’t sick. You are experiencing a ‘heat’, as she called it. It’s a side effect of being a sheep, or more specifically a female, sheep demon. It occurs when the individual has been comfortable with the demons in their vicinity and stress-free for a time. Soul-bonds can trigger this too.” 

Your brows scrunched up, and you swallowed the food before you had finished chewing. It hurt your throat, but the urge to grimace was too strong. How fucking terrible. It felt like you couldn’t escape anything from your life. Your eyes drifted to the wall. You couldn’t even make eye contact with Alastor. His gaze felt heavy on you, and all you wanted to do was hide. 

“I’m sorry, dearest. You need to know what ‘heats’ are, though. Then we can talk about what you would like to do about it.” Alastor sets the bowl down on your bedside table, taking the hint that you couldn’t eat right then. One of his hands tugs at yours, large claws wrapping around your whole hand easily. “Yesterday, the fever and the exhaustion, was the first day. The second, which is today, it’s common for the affected individual to be clingy, especially with a bonded pair.” His thumb stroked the back of your wrist, as he continued. “Tomorrow, the actual ‘heat’ occurs. You will be driven to-” 

Alastor cuts himself off with a cough, and it draws your gaze. “Sorry, my dear. I’ll continue. You will want to have sex. The desire will become a need, and it will consume you. I have been told that it can hurt, to go without, but that it is possible to handle alone. This is what I would like to talk to you about.”

Your nose twitches, and your lips quiver. Of course, this would be thrust on you. How could you deal with this? The idea of sex still unsettled you. However, he mentioned that it could be handled alone. Did he mean masturbation? Would something other than penetration work? Your thoughts whorled in your head, when one stuck to the forefront.��

The image of Alastor holding you tightly to his chest, hand cupping your navel and exploring lower, made your brain halt. The thought of his fingers rubbing at your clit, and his wonderful voice whispering in your ear. Him touching you gently, talking you through the whole ordeal, and bringing you to orgasm, lit up your mind. You suddenly wanted it more than anything. You didn’t need penetration from him, but you so desperately wanted to be touched.

Your cheeks flushed, and fluttering erupted beneath your navel. Alastor’s eyebrows raised as he took in your appearance. You were so glad that he couldn’t read your thoughts. How embarrassing, especially because he wasn’t the biggest fan of being touched.

The heat subsided as you remembered that detail. That would complicate things. The idea of being left alone, right now, made you want to cry. You hoped he didn’t want you to handle it by yourself. If all he could do was be in the same room, you would take it over being alone. 

“I know that neither of us are at the point where…sexual intercourse would be the best action. However, I don’t want you to deal with it alone. As new as this will be for me, I would like to be there for you. To help you with it, if you so desire.” Alastor leans in towards you, one of his hands cupping your face. “I would bring you pleasure, and help this ‘heat’ end for you, my love.”

Your eyelids flutter closed, letting his breath fan across your face as you think. You want him with you, badly. 

Alastor chuckles, making you look at him. “I can do that, my dear.”

Oh. You had spoken out loud. (Your brain feels like it's melting. It feels hard to think, but you push through). Your cheeks flush again. 

“Please, stay with me. I don’t want sex, but I would like your help, if you would give it to me.” Your eyes shift off of his face, shame curdling in your stomach. “I don’t know how to help myself very well, as it is. I would like to learn, with you, if I could.”

Alastor suddenly grabs both sides of your face, his own getting closer. “Look at me, my little lamb. You are deserving of such pleasures, and I would gladly help you. We can learn together, dearest. We can stop if you are ever uncomfortable, I swear it. I would never take advantage of such a situation.”

You smile at him. “Same for you, Al. If you don’t wanna touch me, or vice versa, just let me know. I can figure something out.”

Alastor’s smile softens, and his pupils expand. “Oh, love, worry not. The desire to touch you in such a way has been growing, and the thought has been stuck in my head all night.” His thumbs rub your cheeks, gentler than you had ever felt him be.

Your chest aches, and the sudden need to cry grows within you. You love this strange demon, despite everything that had happened in the last months. He was growing to be so good to you, and it made your heart hurt. 

“Can I kiss you,” you ask, your volume barely above a whisper. 

Alastor answers by molding his lips to yours. His skin is cool to the touch, but compared to the fire you were bathed in the day before, it was Heaven. One of his hands clutched the back of your head, brushing by your sensitive ears. A sound breaks free from your throat, and it makes him press into you harder. You clutch at his suit jacket, your lungs starting to burn. Before you can grow lightheaded, (although you definitely were from just kissing him, just not suffocating), he pulled back from you. 

“That was splendid, ma chéri.” His voice dips lower, his fake radio accent slipping. 

You bask in his presence, as you think over what tomorrow will entail. Although he feeds you a few more times that day, and you talk more about how you feel about it, nothing could prepare you for the full force of the ‘heat’. When he transports you to a room that you haven’t been before, you let your curiosity numb your anxiety. Worrying about it wouldn’t help you, anyway.

My asks are open! Feel free to make a request or reach out to say hi! :)

[lizzieisright]

omega abs ? 😣

oh my fucking god yes

female alpha!reader x omega!abby

Palestine: what can you do

Summary: Abby is sure she will never meet her dream alpha after what happened with Owen. And then she meets you.

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, descriptions of smut (heats/ruts), Owen is a piece of shit, reader is a sweetheart. Also I'll always make Ellie and Abby friends because their dynamic cracks me up every time.

Notes: this one is genuinely weird in terms of my writing style. It's 6k long for no reason except that I wanted to see how everything will play out and build some kind of omega!abby lore. Also it was meant as a bullet point thingy like hcs, but then it got too long, so the sentences might sound weird.

If you guys want something specific with omega!abby, reqs are open.

Me: *slaps the title of the fic* this bad boy can fit a whole multichapter in it.

/-/-/-/-/-/-

There's one thing Abby knows for certain when she turns 19: she is not a typical omega.

Abby's scent is not too sweet: she smells more like fresh roses than vanilla. All other omegas have more prominent scents, and Abby sees how alphas favour them. She is insecure about her scent, and she is not too prideful to admit she wants alphas to like her. Like any other omega Abby feels pressured by society to look a certain way - and she is already tall, so she starts going to the gym to get fit, to look more attractive, to grow that bubble butt everyone's talking about. She just started university and she wants to be cool.

(Ellie tells her it's all bullshit. Ellie is her biggest supporter and she is the one who growls at other alphas when it's needed. It's hilarious, because Ellie is fucking tiny. "I'm still an alpha, Anderson!" Ellie whines usually and Abby flicks her forehead.)

The gym works: she gets more attractive. Her butt is round, her arms are toned and her shoulders balance her hips, making her waist look thinner. Abby meets Owen and she thinks he is the one. He is the first alpha she spends her heat with. And well, maybe it's not how she imagined it would be, but Abby doesn't complain. After all, perfect alphas only exist in books and movies, not in reality.

(she dreamt about feeling safe and protected with her alpha, feeling loved and taken care of. Owen is all growls and bruises.)

Ellie hates Owen's guts. There's always some sick smell when they're in the same room, and Abby is doing all she can to manage it and make two of the most important alphas in her life like each other. Owen tries to convince Abby that alphas and omegas can't be friends - and it works. Abby stops spending too much time with Ellie, tricked into thinking that Ellie actually has feelings for her. Ellie lets it happen.

(Owen is so much more violent during ruts. Abby knew this too: alphas are ruthless in ruts, but she didn't expect being borderline assaulted. Again, she doesn't complain. She is in love, and Owen knows better.)

Abby keeps going to the gym, and in time her muscles grow and show more. Abby is happy - she put so much work into her body and it shows now! She is so much stronger now, and she doesn't mind that her waist is not so tiny anymore. Abby feels powerful.

Owen, however, gets grumpier with every pound of muscle on Abby's body: he doesn't like it. He doesn't support her when she shows how much progress she made.

Then he starts joking about it. He tells her it makes her look less like omega. That she is almost as big as he is. That people won't be able to tell who is the alpha in their relationship. Abby swallows everything and starts doing more cardio. She wants Owen to be happy. She wants to be his mate one day.

And then one day Abby catches Owen with another omega.

She is small and smells like coconut, she is everything Abby isn't.

Abby wants to die.

Abby calls Ellie for the first time in months, sobbing violently. Ellie picks her up and spends the night soothing Abby, and the next day beating the shit out of Owen. Yes, she is tiny, but alpha strength is alpha strength, and Ellie is furious.

Abby doesn't really recover from this. She thought Owen would be her first and her last, but now her dreams and her self-esteem are in ruins.

Abby blames herself for Owen's cheating. She blames herself for building her body, for not being omegy enough, for having a weak scent, for not being what he wanted. 

So Abby grows distant, believing she has no worth as an omega. She avoids alphas, she doesn't recognize when someone's interested. She doesn't let herself smell other people. The only alpha she still talks to is Ellie, because Ellie is Ellie. Her best goblin friend who doesn't even react to her heats, because she is so used to Abby.

(it actually breaks Abby's heart a little: is her scent so weak it doesn't affect alphas at all?)

Her younger brother, Lev, moves to the city for university when Abby is in her graduation year, and Abby puts her energy into taking care of him. She comes to his place from time to time, bringing food or snacks for him. They have movie nights as well. It makes Abby feel less alone. Less useless.

One day Lev asks her to come to the party with him: it's his first time going to a party and he has no idea what to do, especially since there'd be really cool people who are his seniors and he doesn't want to have an egg on his face. 

"Can you ask Ellie to come as well? Please? I need more cool people on my side."

Abby laughs and makes sure Ellie is going to come. Ellie adores Lev, so she agrees immediately.

This party is on another level, Abby thinks. It's not frat bros and awful alphas like it was when Abby went to parties with Owen. This party looks like all smart and successful people in the uni decided to get piss drunk, and it is as cool as it is hilarious. Abby knows some of them - she waves at Nora and hugs Manny when he sees her: they're only people Abby kept in contact with after breaking up with Owen. They stopped being friends with him the moment they found out what happened.

Lev is very nervous. He clings to Abby's arm and she laughs kindly.

"Hey, relax. You're supposed to have fun."

"Yeah, I know." Lev says, a little irritated, but it makes Abby and Ellie laugh again.

Ellie takes everything in her hands and comes back with three beers, opening them for Lev and Abby. Abby chuckles at her typical alpha behaviour, but doesn't tease her. They share a drink, and Lev is still nervous, so Ellie takes him to the dance floor and he finally relaxes next to his second favourite person and his first favourite alpha.

Or so Abby thinks.

She watches another person come to them, and by the way Ellie tenses Abby guesses it's an alpha. Abby tenses too: the protectiveness kicks in.

But the alpha smiles and hugs Lev like Abby does: like if this alpha was Lev's older sister. They talk for a bit and then Lev points in Abby's direction. The alpha nods and waves at Abby. She waves back, confused.

And then this alpha makes her way to Abby.

Abby is caught off guard: the alpha is hot. She is also friendly judging by the smile and the way she treated Lev, and Abby can’t decide how to behave around her. She is not bitter after what happened with Owen, but she is definitely out of practice of talking with hot alphas.

You watch Lev's sister's face go through a variety of emotions, and it makes you chuckle - you too would be confused. But you want to meet her and make sure she knows Lev is taken care of: he is under your wing. He is a sweet kid, shy one, and you know how nervous he is about everything, so you want him to have this safety net.

"Hi!" You say cheerfully and give your hand for a handshake. You try not to think of how beautiful Lev's sister is, how much her blue eyes hypnotise you. She is fucking adorable, that what she is. 

"Hi?" And her voice is soft too. You blink to clear your mind and tell her your name. You can’t smell her, but you’re pulled to her like a magnet.

"I'm Lev's student guide." Abby nods, not sure if she is okay with an alpha around her baby brother.

"I'm Abby, Lev's sister." You beam at Abby and she feels her stomach flutter. Abby quickly tries to kill the butterflies, but you seem so genuine. She can't smell you when there's so many people around, and maybe it's a good thing.

“Lev gave me your number as an emergency contact, and I just wanted you to know if an unknown number texts you that Lev is puking after doing beer pong, it will be me.” Abby can't help her chuckle: you do sound genuine. Abby feels like you really care about her brother and it makes her feel better. 

Lev and Ellie come back and Abby looks at how Lev's face lights up when you smile at him. Oh no. He has a crush on you. It breaks Abby’s heart: she sees how you treat him like a baby brother, and Abby knows Lev has no chance. She also thinks if she looked like this when she met Owen, all star-struck and hopeful. At least you look like a better person.

Abby also feels how tense Ellie is around you. Another alpha thing, but this one is annoying - Ellie’s protectiveness is borderline territorial, so Abby glares at her. Ellie glares back, but some of the tension goes away.

You ruffle Lev’s hair and ask him to enjoy the party and find you if they need anything. Ellie only fully relaxes when you’re lost in the crowd.

“She is the coolest.” Lev tells them and Ellie huffs. “She always helps me around. Saved my ass a few times as well.”

“Well, kid, I don’t want you to get hurt by her, okay?” Ellie says and Lev blushes. 

“Don’t worry, Ellie. I know nothing will happen.” Lev smiles. “She likes people on her level. Someone like you, Abby.”

Abby’s heart skips a beat in pain. There's no way an alpha like you would like an omega like her. 

Or if there is, then there's something wrong with you and you shouldn't be around her brother. 

“She doesn't seem too bad.” Ellie says almost through her teeth; she is as annoyed at her nature as Abby is, but she tries to have a clear head. “But if she hurts you, I'll kill her.” 

Abby would laugh, but the image of Owen's bloody face and a broken wrist don't let her. It's a good thing he didn't press charges, too humiliated to admit he got his ass kicked for cheating. 

Abby forgets about you until she is getting ready to sleep tonight. She puts her palm under her cheek, blissfully unaware, and takes a breath that is full of your scent. It shakes her, having an alpha scent on her, and Abby can't control herself.

Abby's cheeks burn, her heart picks up speed. Her cunt throbs. 

You smell amazing. It has an edge, like any other alpha’s scent, but it's not suffocating. Well no. It is, but it doesn't feel bad, it makes Abby bury her nose in her palm and take a deep sniff. It makes her feel safe. 

And Abby is terrified. She can't like your scent. It's dangerous, she can't risk herself like this, it's stupid. Lev has a crush on you, for god's sake! And even if she could, you'd never look her way. You're a good alpha and good alphas like pretty, small, sweet smelling omegas. Not Abby. 

She doesn’t know that she also left some of her scent on your palm. She doesn’t know you’ve been smelling it the whole night, addicted to the smell of fresh roses and memory of pretty blue eyes. She doesn't know that you struggle to control your eyes from changing to alpha red the whole time. 

You're ready to claw walls after meeting the prettiest omega of your life that you know is sweet and kind and smart: Lev really can't shut up about his sister. It's fucking eating you alive. 

And you have no idea when you'll meet her again, but then you remember that both of you are in the same university. So you start trying to figure out her schedule. You know she is a med student, so you take a chance at going to the library. 

And you're not wrong: Abby is there, looking miserable as she takes her notes. Your instincts kick in and you try to think of a way to make her feel better, but you get your shit together: it would be creepy. 

So you just walk over and ask to sit next to her. Abby is surprised, but she lets you anyway. 

It's awkward. You both are trying to not inhale too much, but the scents are respectively addictive: you smell her fresh roses and she smells your spice and safety. You want to bury yourself in her neck and mark her, scent her, make her yours, but you push these thoughts away.

“How's Lev doing?” Abby asks, not being able to concentrate anymore. It's even more embarrassing that you both smell of attraction, but it doesn't really mean anything: it was proven to be an instinct thing, therefore not reliable in human society. It just makes everything awkward for everyone.

“He is excellent, honestly. He got interested in charity work and I think he will soon be cleared to volunteer at animal shelters.” 

“Good. Thanks for looking after him. I don't want him to get hurt, you know?” Abby didn't mean to say this, but you catch the meaning of her words anyway. She can smell a faint hurt coming from you, but it's not big enough. 

“I'll do whatever I can to make sure he is safe.” You promise Abby and her attraction grows. You blink, but get back into conversation, trying to find more about Abby. 

Abby is.. reluctant. She is polite, but her answers are short, and you're not an idiot, you can take a hint, so you apologise for taking her time and go. 

Abby watches you go and gets filled with sorrow. You seem so sweet, and it scares her. She can't understand what is your angle and why are you bothered with her. She is sad because she wants you to be bothered with her. She wants you to like her; but Abby's brain doesn't even entertain the idea of it. Plus, Lev is crushing on you, it would be absolutely unfair of her to like you. 

The sour smell of sadness makes Ellie restless when she gets to the library half an hour later for their study session. She looks Abby over and tries to piece together what's wrong. 

“Did something happen?” 

Abby is also reluctant to tell Ellie, but she does it anyway. Ellie frowns the whole time, not pleased with another alpha upsetting her baby. Abby is quick to defend you and say that it's she who is the problem. Ellie kicks her under the table. 

“You are not a problem. It's Owen in your head again! Let go of this asshole. There are better alphas than him, fuck, any decent alpha is better than him. Don't assume shit.” Ellie tells her and Abby nods. 

Abby decides to try. Maybe at least she can make a friend. So the next time you see her in the library, she actually smiles at you. 

You swallow. Hard. Abby is gorgeous. 

So you sit next to her and surprisingly, the conversation flows so much better than the last time. You think she was just super busy back then.

Abby is so fucking oblivious it's not funny. She talks to you like she'd talk to Ellie: she doesn't believe your scent, convinced it's just nature and alphas are like this sometimes, so she is relaxed. You can be friends, she thinks. You're great and smell amazing, so you can be friends. 

You're almost salivating the whole time. Abby is cute as fuck, and she is hot as fuck: she takes her hoodie off and stays in a tight crop top, and you ogle at her arms and shoulders. She is incredible. 

“I know we've just met, but I can't leave without asking. Would you go on a date with me?” 

Abby's scent spikes in surprise, and then anxiety. An awful, sick smell that makes you back off. 

“Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.” You tell her, eager to get rid of this stench, to keep Abby calm and safe. 

“Are you sure?” Abby asks, not really believing her ears. 

“I mean, I really want to get to know you better.” You admit. 

“Lev has a crush on you.” Abby blurts and you laugh kindly. 

“I know. We talked about it with him. I don't let this stuff slide when it happens.” It makes Abby feel a little easier. “But if you're uncomfortable, I totally get it. I'd love to be your friend as well.” 

“...I need to talk to Lev first.” Abby admits, her cheeks feel hot. 

“Of course. Let me know then.” You smile sweetly, your scent is so full of attraction it's hard to find an excuse for it, so Abby just ignores it. 

She smells excited now and you beam. “You’re so pretty.” You blurt before you can stop yourself, but Abby starts to smell so sweetly and her cheeks are rosy now, you feel on cloud nine. 

“Thanks, I guess.” She says, shy, and you nod. You say your goodbyes and leave Abby to study. 

Abby thinks she's gone insane. Or you've gone insane. There's no way you actually asked her on a date. 

But Abby wants to go so much. She didn't admit it, but she was getting lonely, and then suddenly you came along and made her heart beat faster. 

So she gains courage and talks to Lev. He gets sad, but not the sour kind, the faint lavender of regret. 

“I told you she would like you.” Lev smiles and Abby hugs him, trying to comfort him. “She is good, I promise.” 

“I'm sorry, Lev.” 

“Don't be.” Lev chuckles and they spend the evening watching the movie. 

Next day you text Abby to find out if everything worked out and she gives you a positive. You grin like an idiot the whole day and plan the date.

You don't get all romantic on your first date, since you feel like Abby might get anxious, so you two just go to a bar and have a game of pool. 

It's perfect: you both are competitive, you get to see Abby bend down and you get to flirt a lot after a drink. Abby is wearing high waisted jeans and her bubble butt looks amazing in them. You don't know this, but Abby was desperate to make herself look more like an omega, and even if she couldn't hide her shoulders and biceps, she wanted to compensate for it, showing off her butt. 

Abby is oblivious to your hungry eyes when she takes a hit, but you're struggling. Abby is sweet and she smells so fucking good. You're itching to touch her, but you keep yourself in check. So instead you compliment her. A lot. 

Abby is flustered: no one ever talked to her like this. No alpha made it clear to her that they found her this attractive. But you keep your mouth running. “Your shirt looks so good on you.” “Sorry, I can't stop staring at your shoulders. They're very nice.”

Abby laughs at this one and feels more comfortable in her own skin. So she opens up. “My ex didn't like that I work out so much.” She chuckles, and you look at her in mock offence. It makes her laugh. 

“What a fucking idiot. Only cowards don't appreciate muscle mommies.” You scrunch your nose and Abby laughs harder. 

“God, what is this nickname?”

You get flustered and Abby feels all giddy. She didn't expect any alpha to get flustered, especially not because of her. “You know. When girls, especially omegas, build up a lot of muscles? People really dig it.” 

“Do you?” Abby asks, coy, and she sees the red flash in your eyes. It makes her press her thighs together. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” You say and there's a hint of an alpha voice. Abby's chest is going to explode. 

You don't kiss Abby properly tonight, instead opting to kiss her hand: you like her, and you don't want to rush it. Abby gets flustered and you can't help the spike in your scent that makes Abby's cheeks red. 

(No, you don't get off on her scent when you come home.) 

(No, Abby doesn't fuck herself on her fingers when she comes home, burying her nose into her palm where she can catch your scent.) 

You both take it slow. You kiss her for the first time on your third date and Abby folds in your hands while you purr and knead her sides. 

Abby starts spending more time at your place, where you just cuddle and watch something. You start catching her scent all around your apartment, and it's driving you crazy. You want Abby to be yours so desperately, but you make yourself think with your head and not with your dick, so you don't rush.

You're in your class when you get a call from Lev. You don't pick up the first one, but when he calls for the second time, you walk out of the class and take the call. 

Lev is crying. 

Turns out his heat came during his class and now he is scared of going home on his own. Your instincts kick in and you grab your shit at a lighting speed before storming to Lev. You text Abby while you're running, and then your mind shifts into protective mode. 

It's hard being around an omega in heat: it's hard for the both of you. Lev clings to you while you wrap your arm around his shoulders and walk him from campus to his place. You know your eyes are red and you're low-key growling, but you keep comforting Lev. 

“It's okay. I'll get you home, and Abby is going to be here, okay? I'll keep you safe, don't worry. You're doing great, just a little more, can you walk a little more for me?”

Your voice soothes Lev and you make it to his place where Abby is already pacing in worry. 

She takes a look at you and her breath hitches. Your eyes are red and so hungry, Abby feels horny and sorry for you: she doesn't know how much willpower you need to keep your head straight when there's an omega in distress and in heat. 

You both get Lev inside his apartment and you retreat to the kitchen while Abby takes care of Lev. She fusses around, gives him pills and sends him to take a shower. You sit straight, your firsts tight as you watch your girlfriend being all motherly. This mixed with the smell of heat makes you feral. It gets harder to control, especially when Abby stands in front of you, her gorgeous scent in your nose. 

“How are you?” She asks, compassionately. And you grit your teeth. 

“Can you-” You start with a growl and you smell Abby's arousal. “Fuck. Can you come here?” You pat your lap.

The moment Abby sits down you grab her and bury your nose in her neck, your arms are tight around her back. Abby yelps when you press her closer and her scent spikes with arousal, making you growl. 

“I'm not- I'm not going to do anything. I just need a moment.” You growl and Abby swallows. Her arousal tickles your nose and you growl louder, pressing your nose closer to her scent glands.

Abby is so wet in her pants she is afraid she will leak on you, but she can't help it: you're usually so sweet, hiding your nature, and now you're acting so alpha-like, and it does things to her.

“Shit. We can't-” Abby's arousal gets mixed with anxiety and you want to sneeze to get it out of your nose. 

“We're not doing anything. Not like this. I just need a redirection.”  You take a deep inhale full of Abby's scent and you finally settle down. Your voice returns and you feel like you can control your eyes again. You ease your hold on Abby and the anxiety goes away. “Did I scare you?” 

Abby is baffled. It's such a big contrast to how Owen treated her before, she is lost for words. You're worried if you sniffing her scared her while Owen didn't care if he left bruises.

The air gets filled with the smell of fresh bakery - the scent of love and affection - and you almost tremble under Abby in excitement.

“A little. I was worried if you'd stop.”

“I have excellent self-control, baby.” You wink at Abby and she slaps your bicep.

She moves a certain way that makes her pelvis move against yours and you grunt: the scent of Abby's arousal got you half-hard already, and you're kinda sensitive now. 

Abby also feels it. She grows red and you giggle, kissing her cheek. 

“Lev is going to be out of the shower soon, I should go.”

“Okay.” Abby gets up from her seat on your lap and you pout. “Do you want-” Abby shakes her head. It's a stupid idea. 

“Do I want what?”

“Something with my scent?” 

You swallow and nod. Abby stands for a second, thinking, and then just takes her shirt off, letting you see her in a bra. You see her small tits covered by her lacy bra and adjust your pants. She is so fucking hot and this is so not the time, but your cock twitches and gets harder with every second while you stare at the most beautiful omega in your life. 

“You're a fucking menace.” You growl again and kiss Abby with hunger, the rumbling in your chest resonating in hers. Abby goes pliant and kisses you back. 

It takes you two tries to get away from her, but Abby is so delicious it's insane. 

You spend the evening in your apartment, getting off on Abby's shirt, fantasising about her going into heat and how you would take care of her and how good you would make her feel. 

You're together for a few months now when Abby's heat comes. You can smell it on her the day before, when she is all whiny and tired, sleeping for the bigger part of the movie on top of you. Her usual rose scent is getting stronger. 

“Are you close to your heat?” Abby hums in agreement and you swallow, staring at the ceiling. “Okay. I can smell it.” 

“Oh.” Abby is surprised. She doesn't have a very prominent scent so she didn't expect you to notice. “Oh I didn't think you'd smell it.”

“Your scent is my fucking heaven, of course I would.”

Abby blushes. Deeply. And you feel her press her thighs together. It makes your dick twitch. 

“I think it'll start tomorrow.” 

“Do you want me to be with you?” You ask innocently and Abby chuckles. “I mean, we haven't done anything yet and I understand if you want to wait and have normal sex first. Well, if you even want to have se-”

Abby cuts you off with a kiss and you relax. “We can try normal sex now.”

And you do. It's slow and sweet and you both laugh when you bump heads and knees and when you have to fumble around for lube since you're messy, but it's perfect. 

You're not aggressive, but you still growl and claw at Abby's soft thighs, and it's a perfect balance of care and pure animalistic want, and Abby feels wanted. She kinda wants to see your control break. 

And then you dip down between her thighs and Abby yelps and pushes your head away, shy. “You don't have to-”

“I really fucking want to. But if you don't want me to, it's okay. I won't.”

“I've never done it before.” Abby admits, embarrassed. She asked Owen to do it once but he looked weirded out by her ask, so Abby felt ashamed to ask again. You stare at her in shock - a good-natured one - and Abby hides her face. 

You slow down and get on her level again, gently moving her hand away. “Hey, it's cool. I didn't mean to belittle you, I just- you're so pretty and so gorgeous, who wouldn't want to go down on you?” Abby looks at you, so deeply touched by your care she feels her eyes water. She smells of love again and you giggle, burying your nose in her neck. “We don't have to do it.”

“I kinda wanna try.” Abby murmurs, smiling, and you beam at her. 

“I'll go slow, okay? Tell me what feels good and what's not, yeah?”

That's how Abby ends up being eaten out for the first time. She loves the feeling of your mouth on her and how your fingers curl inside her. She loves how your eyes gradually become alpha red the closer she is to cumming. 

She comes down from her high and looks at you, half naked and red-eyed, like a predator you're meant to be, and her cunt throbs. 

Abby rides you until you're a grunting mess under her as she massages your tits and clenches around you. You growl, but you don't grab her or hurt her, just let her have fun, and Abby is so fucking happy. 

“I can't wait to spend my heat with you.” Abby moans and you cum immediately, filling her up. 

This time Abby gets to feel safe and taken care of during her heat as you attend her every whim, every request, from “cum inside me” to “I really want some chocolate ice-cream”. You do everything, and Abby can't be happier. She texts Ellie as much when you're out to get her ice-cream and Ellie just sends vomiting emojis. 

Of course then she tells Abby she is happy for her and that she is going to be a best woman at your wedding. 

Abby doesn't want to admit, it scares her, but she wants to be your mate one day. 

You come back not only with chocolate ice-cream, but with some junk food as well. Abby can't help but to drop to her knees right in the hallway. 

You also help Abby recover after the heat, bringing her snacks and letting her nap every chance you can, and Abby knows she is in love with you. She doesn't even need to tell you: she constantly smells of love and lust around you now, but she decides to do it anyway.

You're balls deep in her while she pinches your nipples and nibbles at your scent glands, making you whimper in her ear. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”

“I love you.” Abby says sweetly and you shudder on top of her, and Abby feels how your cock twitches when you cum. Abby feels your fangs scraping her scent glands and she cums too, milking you. 

“Fuck, baby, shit! I love you too, I love you so fucking much, shit-” You pant and Abby grins. 

Abby likes making a mess out of you. 

For some insane reason, Abby's excited for your rut. She didn't like spending ruts with Owen, but you're so gentle and patient, Abby is sure she'll be okay. 

Your rut comes after a month after Abby's heat. Abby likes how possessive you get in pre-rut, even though you start growling at Ellie, which doesn't end well with Ellie's explosive temper. You get along well any other time, but the constant stare down irritates Ellie to the point when she tells Abby, “go fuck the crazy out of your alpha, she is so fucking annoying. Yeah, you.” Ellie stares at you while you tug Abby closer on your lap, scenting her. “Oh my god, get a fucking room. I know Abby is like, your Jesus or whatever, but it's too much.”

Abby just giggles and enjoys how your growling changes to purring. Abby turns to you and cradles your face. “My alpha.” She murmurs and Ellie groans.

“I fucking hate you guys.”

“Not our fault you fell in love with another alpha, Ellie.” You chuckle. 

“Fuck off.” She growls and two if you laugh. 

Abby stays at your place and you get to fall asleep with her in your arms.

On the next day you wake up with a heavy head. You're already hard and Abby is right there, soft and sleeping. You think about how her wet hot pussy feels around your cock and your pheromones spike up so high Abby wakes up. 

She can tell right away that you're in rut. Your scent is suffocating. It's not soft, safe suffocating scent that Abby likes, it's the one that gets stuck in her nose and makes her cunt clench around nothing. She wants nothing more than to get on her fours and present herself for you - this is how much power you have over her. 

“My rut-”

“Yes, I-”

“If you don't want to be here, I think I can hold off for 10 minutes and let you leave.” You growl and it only turns Abby on. 

So she does what she wants - she gets on her knees, her cunt right in front of your face, and arches her back. 

“Knot me, baby.” 

All your restraints break. You're rough and you make Abby take everything: if she is not cumming on your cock, she is cumming on your fingers as you fuck your cum back into her, or she is sitting on your face. Abby struggles to keep up with you, since she is not in heat, but she can't wait to take your knot, and she tells you as much. You growl and fuck her harder, feeling your release building up. Abby is so pretty under you, covered in marks, her tits red from your mouth. She spreads her legs and you pin her thighs by her sides, watching your cock disappear in her pretty little pussy. You finally push your knot into Abby and she whimpers, tries to adjust to your size, but you rub her clit and she clamps on you.

“Mine. My omega. My girl.” You growl loudly while Abby clenches around your knot, thrashing on the bed. It's too much pleasure and she knows you're far from done.

And Abby is right. You make her cum on your knot four other times, and only after she makes you cum again - which means she cums st least three times more - you give her a break. You're still sweet, but now it's possessive sweetness. You don't let her do anything, bathing and feeding her, but she is so exhausted she doesn't even notice. 

“I wanna nap.” Abby tells you when she is snuggled against your chest. It's a small break before you would get horny again. 

“You should. You did so well.” Abby giggles and nuzzles your neck. 

“Don't wait if you get horny again. It would be a nice way to wake up.”

“I fucking love you.”

“You better. You're my alpha. It's a requirement.”

“You call me your alpha again and you're not napping, babe. Go the fuck to sleep.” You kiss her forehead and Abby laughs.

Abby doesn't know if it's luck or destiny, but this time she is sure: you are the one for her.

(and she is right.)

[yellowharrington]

jaded -- chapter 1, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen "carmy" berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: sexual content, mention of unprotected piv sex, swearing, workplace relationship. minors dni with this story please.

word count: 1.4k+

a/n: guess who's back... back again... natty's back... tell a friend.... hey besties lol ik its been a year but i've been obsessed with the bear so i decided to write this. it will be a multichaptered fic and i will update it as soon as i've finished writing the chapters lmao. inspired by the song "jaded" by miley cyrus. pls pls pls enjoy

summary: fresh off of his breakup with claire, carmy needs a rebound. he just doesn't expect it to be his pastry chef.

masterlist | chapter 2

It starts with a ride home after service.

The sun had fallen down over the horizon, painting Chicago black with night. It’s chilly, middle of February, and you and Carmy are the only ones left at the restaurant. You’re both at the lockers, grabbing the last of your things and turning off the last few lights, leaving it behind you as you step out into the darkness of the street. Only amber lights are above you, illuminating Carmy’s face, along with the glow of his lighter around his cigarette. “How are you getting home?” He asks, looking down the alleyway. “Just the train,” you reply, gesturing towards the station a few blocks down the road. “Let me drive you,” he smushes the cigarette underneath the toe of his shoe, looking up at you, rather softly. “Oh, it’s not far,” you try to step the other way, before he grabs your shoulder lightly. “It’s cold, and fuckin’ dark, and there’s murderers. Just let me drive you home.” He was nothing if not protective. 

It really had been a short drive, slow tunes coming from his old car’s radio, drowned out by the sounds of the city around you. It was generally silent, Carmy’s hand on the gear shift. “It’s just up here,” you gesture to the building up the street. “Just take a right.” He does, obeying your action, pulling up in front of a 3-floored walk-up. “Thanks,” you grab your backpack by your feet, opening the door and giving him a small look before stepping out. “Hey, listen,” you start. His eyes are dark, sunken, tired. He’s wearing his usual wool jacket around a cozy navy blue sweater. “I was working on something before work this morning. A… a dish. Can I show you really quick? And you can tell me what you think?” He looked at the time on his phone, and then up at you. Baby blue eyes, peering from under thick lashes. “Sure, chef,” he says quietly as he puts his car in park and unbuckles the seatbelt. 

When you walk him up to your apartment, he’s endeared. You let him in, and your place smells of vanilla candles and laundry, from the load you’d done before work earlier that day. “Sorry about the mess,” you gestured to small pile of plates and spoons in the sink, and the aforementioned unfolded laundry on the couch. “You’d lose your mind if you saw my place if you think this is mess,” he laughed, pushing a hand through his soft golden hair. Your own coat comes off as you make your way into the kitchen, and he has to stop himself from staring. Your tight jeans fit your body perfectly, white t-shirt coming up over your hips only enough for him to see a dark tattoo on the back of your hip. You poured him a cup of cold water and put it in front of him, before firing up the burner on your stove and putting a stainless steel pan on the orange-blue flame. “Make yourself at home.”

He wandered around your apartment a bit, peering into your bedroom. Soft white bed, soft sheets, big fluffed pillows. An open window, letting a chilly breeze in, curtains slightly swaying with the night air. It reminds him of her, her soft sheets, big eyes, the nights he slept next to Claire and kissed her supple cheeks and pink lips. She was like this too; eager, clean, happy, simple. Easy to be with, and easy to like. You’d given off a similar energy the same day you walked into the restaurant on your first day, and you had reminded him of her. Kind eyes, warm presence, but with a different demeanour that chefs almost always had. A jaggedness, he thought. 

The sound of the plates being put on your small kitchen table snapped him out of his daydreams, as you held out a fork for him. “It’s a, uh, mango custard, bit of toasted cardamom and coconut cream in there, and, um, a coconut macaroon with a homemade chutney.” He raises his eyebrows at the dish before him, plated beautifully, and takes a small bite of each component. You seem to wait for hours as he takes his time, feeling every ingredient on his tongue before setting down his fork on the small white plate. “It’s tremendous, chef,” he says quietly, wiping the corner of his mouth. “Almost perfect. Could use maybe an acid, it’s a little sweet, but, wow,” he looks up at you to see your wide eyes, excited at his answer. This was, essentially, the highest praise from Carmy you could get. “Thank you,” you say quietly, watching as he takes another forkful of the dessert. 

“What’s the tattoo on your hip?” he asks, pointing at the right side of your body, where your shirt had ridden up before. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since he caught a glimpse. “Oh, um,” your cheeks turned a soft shade of red, standing up to lift up your shirt and show him. “It’s, uh, a snake. It goes down my leg too,” you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to show him a bit more of the ink, further exposing the thin strap of the black thong you had on. “Got it a long time ago, in school. Just wanted to feel cool I guess.” He stands up, slowly, coming to lightly pin you against the counter. It’s safe, it’s easy, and suddenly it feels so fucking right to have him here under the dim kitchen light. “Can I see the rest of it?”

All bets are off, then. Your jeans are pooled around your ankles in a second as he’s feverishly kissing your lips, hands everywhere, his calloused palms against your soft ass. His sweater is off, along with his signature white tee, showing off the glistening gold chain against his bare chest. You’ve managed to push his jeans down just enough to slide a hand into his waist band, eliciting a soft, breathy moan from him into your mouth.

When you stumble back into your bedroom, it’s all a blur. It’s hot skin against hot skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your neck as his hands work their way in between your wet folds. They’re so gentle, yet he knows what he’s doing, so the slow circles on your clit as he lets himself rut against you are making you unbelievably wet for him. “I want you so fucking badly,” he pants into your ear, letting a finger easily plunge into you as you open your legs wider for him. “Is this a good idea, Carmy?” you let your fingers thread through his hair, allowing him to look up at you. His usual baby blues were dark again, lustful and wanton. “No,” he says matter-of-factly, but the smirk on his lips is so unbelievable, a cruel man above you. “Should we do it anyways?” You ask, your own smile playing on the corners of your mouth, allowing your hips to rut against his fingers, fucking yourself to feel more of him. He takes a large hand to your breast, letting it slide up, thumb slipping onto your lower lip and into your mouth. “Yeah… yeah, of course we fucking should.”

It’s so easy with him, which is what makes it so hard. He knows right where to kiss, where to touch, where to love on your body. He knows to take his hands to your sides, pushing you into the mattress as he laps at your clit and kisses your inner thighs, looking up and watching you take your own tits in your hands, squeezing them together, looking down at him with such need. He knows to slide up between your legs, and to cradle your neck in his hand, his thick cock plunging into you and making you weak, making his thumb wet with his own spit and bringing you to your orgasm, spasming around him, moaning his name into his mouth like a prayer. It doesn’t take much longer after that for him to spill inside of you, warm and deep, lips locked around his as you helped him ride his orgasm out. And it feels right, and real, when he lays next to you and kisses your chest and arms before falling into a deep sleep, your soft comforter over his chest. It all feels so fucking right, that first time.

But the next morning, all you have is an empty bed. And it doesn’t feel right anymore.

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (6/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

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Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 6: Collision at Turn "Your Heart"

UK

Sam and Toto go to the Soft Serve Society in London the following day to have milkshakes. They share a sizeable Instagram-able shake, asking for two straws instead of one. 

The place is intimate and small, perfect for chatting. Its location in a trendy neighborhood gives Sam the ideal excuse to pull that Thom Browne boyish suit out of her suitcase.

As Sam is asking for two matcha cookies to complement their order, she notices Toto smiling like an idiot at his iPhone screen.

—Wow, that time you two spent apart did wonders for your relationship. I thought it was a "cease and desist" situation, as if there wouldn't be a turning point, but I haven't seen you like this in a long time.

—How? —Toto moves his gaze to Sam, a bit perplexed.

—Stupidly in love. So you two are genuinely back?

—Oh, that... well, we are trying this open relationship thing. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about it.

Sam gives him a judgy look, her eyebrows slightly frowning. —Let me guess. Susie suggested it; you said no, then she pressured you, and you followed along. There is no need to explain further; I get it.

Toto shrugs and barely nods his head.

—It's always what Susie wants, isn't it? You are so blind sometimes —she sounds now annoyed.

—I thought you, of all people, would get it. You see love differently than in the traditional way. Preferences aside, you are more free regarding feelings and partners.

—Yes, yet I'm not into playing with other people's feelings. 

—I'm not being played or playing with her feelings.

—To which one of the two hers are you referring?

A silence.

It's the first time Sam addresses the elephant in the room. 

—Listen, I don't want to overstep, and God knows I don't want to get in the middle; I love you both; yes, I said that, and stop smiling like that, but for fuck sake, you two need to communicate and talk! LIKE TALK! I know it's not my place, and I have tried to remain as neutral as possible, but I genuinely care about Y/N; there's more you need to know about each other because this thing is going to blow in your faces the worst way.

—What's on this? Is this really happening? You telling me how you are feeling? —Toto picks up the shake to smell it, making a funny face and trying to lighten the mood. He also avoids giving Sam an answer but pays attention to her every word.

—Oh, fuck off —Sam pushes him a bit roughly.

—Sugar sure is a drug! —Toto's holding a laugh.

-

—How did your day out with Toto go?

—How do you know we went out? Stalker!

In response, you give Sam an exaggerated insulted expression (hand over your chest and open wide mouth). —He texted me when you two were at the ice cream place! He even sent me these pictures! —you show her the conversation. —By the way, that outfit of yours is CUTE!

—Oh! It was you then —she says quickly and softly.

—Sorry? —you look at Sam as if another head grew from her neck.

—Oh, nothing. Toto didn't mention anything. He was just smiling like an idiot and giggling like a teenager, looking all in love at his phone screen.

—All what? Sam, what you said?! —you feel your heart in your throat.

—Did you follow my advice? —she cuts your shenanigans.

—I tried to follow it and address our "situation," but he rushed to get wine. He ran from the conversation, and I didn't feel like having it much, either. I knew how it was going to end.

—Well, keep pushing, trust me.

—Is there something I should worry about? —you suddenly stop and look straight at her.

—It's not my place to tell —Sam answers neutrally.

Then you two board your jet with directions home, your new home, Monaco. 

Now, thanks to Sam's words, an eerie sentiment fills your head. Is she trying to warn you something?

-

It's a quiet flight; well, if it wasn't for Samanta's snoring, not even an English Bulldog snores that loud. 

Which makes you laugh hard; you have forgotten how terrible Sam sleeps. 

It's been a while since you two slept nearby, which was the most common thing for all those years you lived at the Manor.

You have always been very much like sisters.

You take out your phone and start recording a video of Sam sound asleep with T-rex arms, open mouth, and loudly snoring, all weirdly placed on the comfy, big seat next to you.

-

Monaco

Why, every time you land in Monaco, your mind is in desperate need of a Toto detox?

-

As soon as you are in the car ride home, you hit the send button on the "Get a grip, loca🏎!" group chat.

After you share the video of Sam sleeping, a long list of replies and reactions appear in the group.

She threatens to murder you in your sleep.

-

Two nights after being back, when Charles enters the apartment wearing the world's most oversized outfit while trying to juggle four bottles of wine - one held under his chin - and a big fancy grocery bag while avoiding stepping on "Robbie" - your Roomba robot - you feel so at home; this couldn't be a more domestic scene for you two before you rush to help him.

Never mind, too late! Now, the kitchen floor looks like a crime scene. 

God, how much you missed him! Keeping your friendship while hiding it from the rest of the Scuderia has been difficult. 

Ferrari is a hermetic group that likes it that way; being extra friendly with the enemy could cost Charles' head, thanks to Binotto's paranoia.

—FUCK! FUCK AND FUCK! —he lets out, looking at the now red floor, followed by various French cursings coming out of that pouty mouth. 

—At least the other three survived —you hear Sam say, entering behind him and holding two more bottles and a cake.

—Several bottles of wine and lots of food. This is an intervention for me, isn't it? —you ask, looking at them suspiciously.

Both of them energetically nod.

—We need to talk about Bruno —Charles jokes; he obviously means Toto while grabbing the paper towel on the kitchen counter to try cleaning his mess, which is as useless as you expected.

—Damn —is all you let out.

At some point, Charles gives up and prefers leaving a fat tip and a Post-it for Rosita when she comes clean tomorrow morning.

-

—Hi, I have a quick question: How much do you weigh?

A text from Toto comes in the early hours of the day as you are about to hit the treadmill in your luxurious building's training center. You rushed down there, unable to sleep a second more.

After the intervention, you comprehend lots of things need to change.

—(Y/N's weight), why? —you reply. 

It's still dark outside.

Only you and three others are alone in the enormous gym section, which feels quiet and isolated, perfect for decompressing. 

Apparently, when Toto and you are apart, you are both early birds. It's always a snooze fest when you two are tangled in sheets. Probably, it's because he makes the world's most fabulous pillow or because he loves having you wrapped in his arms.

Judging by his text's unusual hours, he may be overthinking it too. Lately, you have felt driven to exercise earlier in the morning as well to avoid losing your sanity.

A couple of minutes later, a video of Toto adjusting the weight of his barbells to your weight before doing a couple of hip thrusts comes as a reply.

You watch the video a couple of times, okay, several times, before hitting the reply button. —I can help you do some repetitions if you want; I know a very effective routine! My trainer also advised me I needed more cardio —you tease him, feeling a tingle down there, hehe. 

Fuck! You are falling for it again, and you just swore to Sam and Charles that there would be no Toto during this break!

As Toto reads your text, a pleased smirk forms on his lips, and then he exhales and returns to exercise. 

He shouldn't be feeling this desperate for your attention. It has been only the first week without seeing you.

The way you have turned his life upside down is unimaginable.

-

—Your girl is in town! —Normani sends a selfie of herself in the group chat, throwing a pose on the Monaco pier, looking flawless and stylish in a two-piece Casablanca outfit (an orange thee with colorful stripes and shorty shorts and pulling the coolest glasses) while blowing a kiss. —Let's hang out tonight!😈😈

—OH, I KNOW JUST THE PLACE —Lando writes back.

—Italy.

Several "???" appear.

—I'm in Italy —Seb clarifies.

Now, it makes sense.

—Someone needs to help Seb with this, really —George says.

—Let's take him to one of those free classes at the Apple store, you know, with the senior citizens —Checo jokes. —I'm with Carola's parents and the kids in Guadalajara, so we are out of the fun this time.

—Tell Carola I love her —you request Checo.

—I will, thx.

—I don't wish for an apple, thank you —Seb replies.

—Dear God —Lewis texts.

—Jk! Jk! I'm not that inept, and I'm not yet a senior citizen, but soon, 2032 let's go! —Seb exits the conversation.

—Lando, send the location —Lewis texts. —That's great to know, Seb. I'm already saving for our turbo wheelchairs to challenge you in races at the retirement home.

—There, see you guys at 1 a.m.

—I want to live enough to witness that, Lewis —Mick enters the conversation.

—This club looks like a shithole! I don't wish for my organs to get stolen —Charles points out after looking for the place on Google Maps; it's only a run-down facade photo of the place in a not-that-neat street.

—Trust me, you are going to love it —Lando comments.

—Is it private? —Lewis asks. —Cause last time we went out in London, getting us out of there was a nightmare.

—That's precisely why I'm suggesting this place!

—Spain.

—I'm in Spain —Carlos texts, mocking Seb. —Have fun without me, guys, even though I don't think you can. Send pictures. I miss you, my friends.

—Te extraño, too🙇‍♀️ —you reply, Carlos, you have become fond of him.

—🥰🥰 —Carlos sends.

—I'm liking this sketchy, mysterious place already —Sam joins in.

—Sam, is Millie still in town? —you ask her, you met Millie for brunch two days ago.

—No, I already left 😭😭😭. Mick invited me to hike in Patagonia—a photo of them out in nature follows her text. 

—Okay, the ones who are going, please send a hands-up emoji; I'm booking the table —Lando texts.

-

You make your way through the winding streets of Monaco on Charles' bike at full speed; you are sure you flashed at least four people with that party mini dress you are wearing as you head to the mysterious nightclub. 

As soon as you park, you agree with Charles that it looks like a sketchy part of town, but the faint sound of pulsing music and the flickering lights emanating from a door down a narrow corridor between two buildings right in front of you quickly distract you and guides you in.

Soon, as you enter and go down the long stairs, you are immediately enveloped in a world of luxury "decadence." 

The atmosphere is electric, and the air is heavy with the scent of exotic perfumes. 

—It smells like good sex —is what Lando tells you as he greets you, looking at your two "trying to discover the scent" faces.

The walls are decorated with striking artwork, each more provocative and daring than the last.

For sure, this place is the stage for many wild escapades.

As almost everyone gets there, the group is drawn to the center of the club, near where the main stage, lit up with swirling lights and seductive, almost naked dancers. 

Your table in the VIP area "it has the best location in the place", again, according to Lando.

As you sit next to Nomani, who gave you the world's greatest greeting hug, you get mesmerized by the hypnotic rhythm of the music and the dancers' graceful motions. 

You get transfixed, unable to tear your eyes away from them. Gorgeous he/she/they are on the stage.

—Beer, gin, what are we drinking? —Normani asks you.

—Tequila —you answer too quickly for her and Sam's amusement.

—Tequila, it is! —she says loudly and makes a little dance, shaking the girls around. The more than happy waiter witnesses it before getting the bottle.

You pour everyone a shot to start the night. Lewis just arrived, and George is running late as usual.

—Can you smell it? —you ask everyone.

A couple of "What?" come along.

—The regret —you joke as you all take the shot.

The group then goes full party core, joining the pulsating dance floor and losing themselves in the music. 

Laughter and shouts fill the air as the exotic dancers approach you and the crowd to exchange some sensual moves.

Amidst the chaos and allure of the night, Toto arrives. Unexpectedly.

Charles and Sam instantly look at you, almost throwing you darts.

—I swear to God I didn't invite him!

George did.

-

As alcohol skyrockets Lando, he starts doing push-ups for you in the middle of the dance floor as a techno-dub mix of Olivia Newton John's and Dua Lipa's "Physical" starts playing while he looks straight at you.

—Is that supposed to impress me? —you raise an eyebrow, cross your arms, and lean on Lewis, who is also witnessing the action.

—Is it working?

—Never stop believing in your dreams —you laugh it off, and Toto playfully rolls his eyes at him, then winks at you.

"Oh, God, I'm weak! I'm not going to resist the temptation."

—The dancer with the jockstrap hasn't taken his eyes off you the entire night —Toto points out for Normani, gesturing to which one he refers.

Normani makes a "definitely wouldn't mind" expression. —Too bad I don't do one-night stands —she confesses.

—Like ever? —Lewis looks at her like she is from Mars.

—Hopeless romantic right here! —Normi answers. —I like to party, but I'm so old-fashioned. Thanks, Mom!

—What a classy lady, indeed! —George says.

—It's my Britishness britishing —she jokes. —I want a husband, a big house in the countryside, horses and babies, you know, the traditional.

—Like, literally, this is the worst place to discuss family! —Sam warns them with a "Don't kill the mood, guys" look.

—The worst! —you all burst out laughing.

—I'm not sure if she is messing with us or..? —Lando comes closer to saying to Charles.

—No, really! It's my biggest wish. I can't wait to be a mom! —Normani lets out. 

—But you are so young! —everyone looks so shocked at her. Quite the revelation!

—I KNOW, but I want four! So, I better hurry up.

—FOUR?!! —everyone kind of screams in response.

Normani looks at them with a big smile, happy with the chaos her confession is causing.

—I get you, girl. I do love one myself; I have wanted to be a mom for years now. I feel I'm close to adopting one, but I need to do something with my schedule first. It would be impossible with a baby!

Toto listens to your conversation, very quiet and still, looking as if something inside him broke.

-

—Hey, I want to talk to you privately. I have something important to tell you; it's been on my mind for a while —Toto approaches you to whisper in your ear.

—Oh, sure, yeah —you agree to. "Okay, breathe, the moment it's coming."

When you reach a quiet spot to talk without all the people buzzing around, the loud background noises, and the almost butt-naked performers, you two remain there in an awkward silence for a minute.

Toto looks like he wants to say something but doesn't, so you break the ice first, feeling your hands shaking a bit.

—So what do you want to tell me that's so important?

He looks straight at you and takes two steps to close the distance between you. —Ahem, so... so what are you planning for... for the off-season? —he takes you off guard.

"Okay, this is not what I was expecting."

—I... I don't know... yet.

—Maybe we could spend it together. I know a private island that would be perfect —Toto offers you, totally improvising.

—Oh, I see...

—I mean... if you want to.

—No, no, of course, I want to!

—Perfect, then —he says, his voice deep. Toto then takes your hand, and you're surprised by the warmth from his touch.

"Coward" "Selfish" is all Toto thinks for himself. "But I don't want to lose her. I need her just a bit more. I don't know how to quit her."

—What do you say if we continue this conversation somewhere even more private? —Toto invites you, his intense dark eyes piercing right through you. 

Before you have time to respond, he takes your hand and leads you toward the exit at the back of the place and into his car.

Soon, you arrive at his luxurious penthouse, abandoning almost all of your party clothes in the process. 

You glance around the dimly lit living room, admiring its opulence. The walls are decorated with fine art, and the scent of wealth lingers in every corner.

Toto, already bare-chested, removes the rest of his clothes, revealing himself. You can't help but stare at his toned abs, defined muscles, and delicious dick. 

He smirks, noticing your admiration, and pushes you closer to the sofa. It creaks softly under your weight as he sits you down, eyes locked onto each other.

—You're stunning —Toto says while tracing his fingers down your body as you remove your last piece of clothing.

Your pulse quickens at his touch, and you move in, pressing your lips hard against his.

Toto's tongue sneaks its way between your parted lips as he pulls your naked body close to his. You moan softly.

Slowly, he leans back onto the plush pillows, taking you with him. Your bodies intertwine in a passionate embrace, enjoying the heat from his broad chest into you as you run your hands all over him, feeling every inch of Toto pressing against your core.

He grabs you by the hips, grinding you against him forcefully, causing an excited whimper to escape your lips. You can't help but crave his every single inch.

Sliding yourself lower, you feel him harden beneath you. —Fuck, you're so hard —you whisper into his ear as you stroke his length up and down. 

Toto flips you onto your back, not letting you control the show yet, spreading your legs wide. He effortlessly glides both of his hands beneath your ass, lifting you up like you weigh nothing.

His left-hand squeezes your ass cheek possessively while his right supports your lower back. Then Toto lowers his mouth to your inner thigh, his tongue trailing a path of wetness up to your core, where he tastes you. 

You gasp, your breath hitching whenever his tongue flicks your clit.

Plunging his tongue deep inside you, he tastes the sweetness of your essence. Moving back up to your clit, he sucks hard, provoking you to tremble under the pleasure.

Your fingers entangle his thick hair, tugging and pushing as waves of delight roll over your body. 

Toto stares at your swollen clit and massages it gently, building an almost unbearable tension in the pit of your stomach before he slides first one finger, then two inside of you, feeling you tighten around them as he moves them in deliberate circles.

—What the fuck, you feel incredible —he mumbles against your folds. He increases his pace, sucking harder, flicking faster until you are shuddering against him, gasping for breath, about to break apart.

Your vision gets blurry as an involuntary moan escapes your lips.

—I'm so fucking close —you cry out, inarticulate with pleasure. Toto looks up and climbs back up your body, kissing and nipping at your soft flesh as he goes up until his thighs are between yours.

—You want me to make you come, don't you? —he whispers seductively, nibbling on your earlobe.

You nod, biting your lip. You need Toto to fill you, to end this unbearable craving he had built inside you.

—Please, Toto —you beg, thrusting your hips upward. A desperate whimper tears from your throat when your sexes don't meet.

Toto chuckles softly, smirking at your desperation. —Then fuck me —he murmurs, placing you on top of him, inviting you to ride him right there, inviting you to guide him inside of you. —Fuck me hard.

The feeling of him filling you up, inch by inch, sends waves of ecstasy through your body. —Oh, god, yes —you moan, encouraging him deeper.

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony as you ride waves of pleasure. Toto grunts and groans with each bounce, whispering obscenities in your ear as you cowgirl him with an arched back, panting heavily. Wetness pools between you as your sweat-slicked bodies slap together rhythmically.

Toto grabs your hands and pins them behind your back, changing the angle of his thrusts. He hits a spot deep within you that sends shivers down your spine, producing a guttural moan from your lips. 

He smirks at the sound and repeats the action, watching your reaction with fascination.

—Fuuck —you cry out, every muscle tensing as your fingers curl into fists. 

Toto continues to plow into you, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, making your tits bounce without control, making you a mess. 

You look down at him to see your bodies moving in a slick rhythm, leaving trails of sweat and lust on your skin. He looks wild, eyes burning with desire and mouth parted in a low growl as the scent of sex permeates the air around you.

You whimper as he releases one of your wrists, allowing you to wrap your hand around your breast. Your fingers tease your sensitive nipple, sending a fresh wave of sensation flooding through you.

Toto watches you touch yourself, entranced by the movement of your hand on your breast as his thrusts become erratic.

—Fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful —he mutters roughly, his hips slamming into yours hard. The sound of your bodies colliding resonates throughout the room, mixing with your erratic breathing. 

—You like that? —Toto asks, smirking at your eager expression. You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, ready to burst at any moment.

Toto's dark eyes pierce into you, watching every twitch of your face and every moan of breath.

His thrusts become more deliberate, each one pressing into your womb.

—Fuckkk —Toto groans loudly, struggling to contain himself. His muscles tense as he gives it to you very fast; sweat drips down his face, onto his chest, and you.

—Toto! —you moan very loud as you come all over his dick.

—I need you —he confesses to you as he is about to come. You bounce hard and desperately on his cock, till you hear him grunting loud; a mess of panting Toto fills you up.

-

Ferrari's big anniversary is coming up next weekend, and they are set to throw the biggest party ever, a very fancy gala that will take place in Rome, or so Charles discloses to you.

—I'm actually excited for this one! —then he turns to show you the jewelry bracelet he likes before trying it on while cheerfully chit-chatting.

—This one is more your style, I like it better —you agree with his pick, as you two are out shopping.

While the sales lady adjusts it to his wrist measurements, Charles continues telling you: —This party has been in the making for so long, and all the rumors we have been hearing about it from the planners keep getting better; it honestly sounds so good!

You attentively listen to him while trying on a set of butterfly diamond earrings. Yes, you need them.

He continues: —I really wish I could take you like my plus one! But I'm taking my mom; I promised her way before meeting you.

—Oh, sweetie, no worries! But do tell me more about it. Sounds fabulous.

—Well, it will be very VIP, with only big clients, a couple of A-lister celebrities, and influential motorsports people. There's a lot of gossip about what or who will be the entertainment.

—I guess I'm not part of the big names of motorsports yet because I haven't been invited, haha. Mattia doesn't like me, isn't it?

—He is not your biggest fan, but almost no one has been invited; as far as I know, it's just the Scuderia and people Mattia considers his "paddock friends." —Charles gestures with his hands. —And some special guests with a history with the brand, like Niki. He is going! I know because Sam is his plus one; she told me yesterday.

—Maybe I should buy Ferrari to party with you at that fabulous event —you laugh it off as you sign the check for the earrings.

—And to party with Niki —Charles adds, joking.

—I heard he goes hard! —you joke back. Nowadays, if Niki stays up after 10 p.m., he considers it a wild night, in his words.

-

As you are about to finish your grilled salmon at that gorgeous "Gaia" restaurant in Monte Carlo, your phone buzzes on top of the white mantelpiece, grabbing your attention.

—Didn't you lose something?

—Not that I know.

—How weird, cause I have this plus one ticket with your name on it.

—Haha. You got me!

—Feeling like going to a fancy party in Rome?

—A getaway trip to Italy? SIGN ME UP! —you happily reply, already thinking about what you will wear.

-

Rome

As the sun descended over the iconic Roman Colosseum, flashing cameras lit the red carpet at the ancient structure's entrance. 

Sleek Ferraris pull up, each more luxurious than the previous, dropping the celebrities and high-profile guests off to make their grand entrances, dressed in the most glamorous outfits and adorned in shining jewels. 

Amidst all that circus, you two stay on the sidelines, watching the spectacle unfold before quietly skipping the paparazzi and splitting apart to enter the temporarily built ballroom.

—Surprise! —you extend your arms to Leclerc; he is now fresh off the red carpet, the one you avoid to keep it as discreet as possible.

A prominent smile forms on the lips of the Monagesque. —We could have shared the flight here, you know! Instead of you flying here all by yourself —Charles rolls his eyes at you and then hugs you. —I really believed you when you said you didn't get invited. You got me!

"But I didn't fly by myself!" You want to correct him on that, but you don't.

Inside, the atmosphere is as opulent as outside. Red lights illuminate the ancient structure, and lavish decorations adorn every table set. Cirque du Soleil performers move gracefully through the crowds, dazzling costumes twirling and shimmering as they entertain the guests with their mesmerizing acts.

You take in all the sights and sounds of the extravagant gala surrounding you, where motorsport legends mingle with billionaires, entertainers, engineers, celebrities, and beautiful models. 

Laughter, loud music, and chatter fill the air, along with the clinking of champagne glasses.

-

After having a blast dancing around, chatting, and goofing an hour later, you go to look for Sam, knowing she must be somewhere around. 

But the place is enormous, the crowd is big, and no luck so far; she is nowhere to be seen.

You get tired of searching for her and go to the bathroom. By this point, you have had many drinks, "Damn, that waiting line is long!"

As you try to find something to entertain you while you wait, you start scanning the place with your eyes, observing every gorgeous detail, when the silhouette of a beautiful blond woman steals your attention. Four girls in front of you in the line, there is Susie.

She is as beautiful as you expected her to be in person but more petite; she looks fit and fierce but kind. You can't help but stare at her before wondering what she is doing here. Then a "Duh! Idiot! She is a big name in motorsports!" hits you.

-

As you return to your table from grabbing chocolate-covered strawberries a bit later, you run into Sam.

She stares at you with the widest eyes ever, completely surprised. —What? —she lets out, standing still.

—Surprise! —you reach to hug her. —I have been looking for you all damn night! —she barely hugs you, and your big smile starts to fade away. —Is all good? —you ask, concern while looking straight at her.

—I'm so sorry, Y/N. I genuinely am —she mumbles. Samanta's features are full of dismay.

—Sam, you are worrying me.

She gestures to you to turn around.

"Oh, there is that feeling you remember so well." 

That awful fucking feeling of getting your heart shattered. Like a bullet going through the flesh, a sting of pure pain as if your heart was glass and was getting crushed by a hammer, pure and profound pain as you watch Susie wrapped around Toto's neck with no inch of space in between them, standing by the Mercedes guest table, sharing soft kisses and pets. 

Yet you are so skilled at hiding your feelings that it requires an expert - like Sam - to figure you out.

With a neutral face, you faintly say: —I need a moment.

—Y/N... I will go with you...

—I need a moment, I... I need to get fresh air. I will be right back —you start walking in the opposite direction to them, and Sam follows your every step.

—Y/N. I'm here for you...

—I'll be back, Sam. I need a moment, please —you make her stop following you around. So she contains herself and watches you walk away, worried about you. 

Sam knows your mental health hangs from a fragile thread.

-

—I want a Tequila and tonic with three tequila shots in it, please —Samanta brusquely drops herself on her seat at the Mercedes guest table and asks the waiter for a heavy drink.

—That would be two, please. You have learned from the master herself. Where is she, tho? I spotted Y/N and was going to greet her, but I got distracted by a sexy lady asking for a selfie. Now I don't know where she went to —Lewis asks while looking around, trying to spot you among the crowds.

The music is loud, so conversing is challenging if you aren't near enough.

—She's outside chatting with Vettel —Charles inserts himself in the conversation between a pissed-off Sam and a clueless Lewis, arriving a bit rushed at the table and placing himself between their two chairs.

—Hi mate! —Lewis pats his arm, and half hugs him while still sitting. Charles rubs his shoulder in response.

—Hey, Sam. I made the changes you suggested to my speech. Do you approve? —Leclerc hands her a folded piece of paper; "She is out there crying" is written in big caps.

Sam and Charles exchange warry looks.

—It's perfect. I will help you practice it.

—Great idea, let's g...

A loud "ow" sound from the crowd interrupts them. A tray hits the floor loudly, followed by glasses breaking. It's all coming from far on their left. 

They all turn their heads toward the noise, as does almost everyone in the entire place.

—I'm so so sorry! Oh my god! I'm an idiot! Please forgive me! —a very distraught and nervous Vettel apologizes frantically to you. 

He accidentally crashed into the waiter holding a tray of wine glasses as he crossed paths with you, the ones that landed all over you, fucking up your dress, before smashing on the floor. 

Which made poetic sense since you felt wounded, and now you looked like it.

You could sense Toto's eyes burning into you. You weren't supposed to be there.

Lewis gets on his feet. —Jesus, poor Y/N —and he notices how Toto looks utterly shaken by seeing you here and looking whiter than a ghost, and at that moment, he gets it. Fuck.

—Seb, Seb, SEB! —you raise your voice as Vettel keeps apologizing and talking nonstop. —It's okay, sweetie. No worries; I will go change! It's all okay.

—I'm sorry. Please forgive me; let me escort you out. It's the least I can do.

—Okay. Fine —you finally agree, looking a bit done with Seb.

You two start walking to the exit, which is all the other way around for your fucking luck. As you depart, you can hear the people whispering and staring at you. 

A frozen Toto watches you walk past them, and you can't help it; for the briefest moment, you make eye contact with him before Vettel blocks the view.

—Sebastian Vettel, you are a good man —Sam whispers.

—What? —Charles reaches even closer to her.

—Y/N is not coming back. Seb was her exit out. 

—Was that on purpose?!!

—Yes. That's why you saw them talking out there, for sure.

—Are they that close? Since when? I had no fucking clue.

—Since Y/N set foot on the paddock —Sam replies, knowing the whole story. —She's an expert at hiding in plain sight.

—Should we check on her? —Lewis turns to them, still on his feet, looking tense.

—Y/N will be fine; she always is —Sam says aloud for the entire table to hear. She can feel Toto's eyes on her but doesn't care to look back at him.

-

Vettel takes you inside a black-tinted Suburban. As the chauffeur speeds away from the Colosseum, he holds your hand and never lets it go.

Seb asks you to stay at his place so he can care for you and keep you company, and you agree.

You two cuddle in the back seat while you cry in his arms all the ride to his place. 

It's a long one.

You don't know if it's because your heart is shattering into a million pieces, or because you feel vulnerable right now, or just cause Seb is such a kind and precious being that you pour all out. 

You let him know everything, every single fucking detail about your fling with Torger and how you feel right now. You had never been so forthcoming with anyone about this, not even Sam.

—I'm so sorry about how the night turned out; I invited you as my plus-one with the idea of having the best time. I wish I had known all of this before! Finding it out this way, gosh, that's harsh —Seb tells you, with a mixture of mortification and sadness.

—You aren't the one who should apologize! Hey, at least we had a good time on the flight here. Thanks to you, now I want to build hundreds of hotels for the bees.

He smiles brightly before adding: —Right now, you need to rest and feel, let it all out of your system, and tomorrow start new! I'm here for you.

—Thanking for acting out that exit; you deserve an Oscar.

—I have been mistaken for Brad Pitt before, you know —he jokes to try to make you smile, but it's in vain. —You are a good actress, too.

-

You crash on his couch. Barely making it inside, collapsing as soon as you cross the entrance door, feeling drained.

You have experienced the "heart broke syndrome" before and know how it goes, so you needed to lie down ASAP.

-

After God knows how many minutes since you blacked out on the sofa, you hear a noise above you. You slightly and a bit unwillingly open your eyes to see Seb covering you with a remarkably soft blanket that feels so delicious. He drops a puffy pillow on the rug beside you and lays himself down there next to the couch.

You move to face him as he gets comfy there on the floor. —What are you doing?

—Oh, shit, did I wake you up? I'm staying here if you don't mind —he looks at you with apprehension in those stunning eyes.

—You are the sweetest —you tell him as you slowly drift off, exhausted.

As you fall asleep again, you understand now why Lewis dared risk it all for Seb and start wondering what happened to those two.

-

You wake up disoriented and feeling anxious. 

It's still dark. 

Seb is profoundly asleep and relaxed in the blueish-tinted living room, with the moonlight sneaking through the large windows. 

You stay there, unable to sleep but with zero energy to move. You observe his breathing, which weirdly helps you soothe yourself when suddenly, your phone screen lights up, stealing your gaze.

You try to reach for it since Seb placed your purse and phone on the coffee table at arm's distance before going to look for an oversized T-shirt that could work you as pajamas. 

It's a simple text from Toto. "Can I please talk to you?"

As you navigate your phone, you notice many missed calls from Sam, Charles, and Lewis.

Well, now it's clear communication and sincerity weren't your thing. You weren't one of those couples. 

Were you even a couple?

"Maybe it's best this way," is all you reply to him before turning your phone off.

Tears start coming down again as your phone screen dims and fades to black again.

-

The following day, Seb offers you to stay for as long as you wish, and you will take his word for it.

You don't feel like returning to the city you share with Toto; it's way too risky for you to be in Monaco. 

You need time to compose yourself. A lot is about to happen soon, and you need to be at your best. You can't fail. To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

[seafoamdew]

Thank you for tagging me @alkalinefrog and @bignostalgias !

Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

I'll give you more than a sentence actually as an apology for being away for so long. I'll give you some snippets of the arranged marriage au that I've been working to turn into an actual multichapter fic from the drabbles/one-shots it is now 😉

Snippet #1

 “You would dare dishonour your wife’s words? Her promise to me?” Signy’s face is still, her voice a deadly calm as she stares the large Viking down.  “They should be given the chance to find love,” Stoick implores instead of fanning her quiet rage by answering.  “We are giving them that chance. They have already formed a great friendship, and there is no greater soil where love can grow.”

Snippet #2

“Take care of him for me will you?” Jack said as he pulled away from the hug with a grin. “I’d like him healthy and whole for our wedding.” “How whole could he be with a missing leg?” Astrid quipped sardonically. Jack laughed. “Fair point! I’ll trust you to keep him from losing any more limbs. You know how he is.” "I can hear you two, you know," Hiccup said flatly, joining them. "And I can keep my limbs attached just fine, thank you."

Snippet #3

“So, if you really think about it– under all that armour and tailored leather, he really is just the same scrawny runt you know and love. Fishbones and all.” Hiccup paused just before the clubhouse entrance, brows raised at the conversation that was most certainly about him. The fact that it came from Tuffnut’s mouth only smelled like trouble.  “Well, not really all the same. Cuz of the… you know…” By Thor, if they’re talking about his leg- “The leg.” Alright, that's it!

I'm tagging you. That's right, you, you reading this very sentence. Ily 😘

[prongsie-kins]

part two of when i met you

this is a filo!james au revolving around james potter courting regulus black in a semi-traditional way

disclaimer: english is NOT my first language and not the type that this would be beautifully written but there might be some grammatical error i didn't notice while editing. also keep in mind that this is my first multichapter fic and im still trying to improve my writing

translations at the bottom

Previous | Next

without even knowing what love and life were all about

James didn't stop. Regulus doesn't think he plans to. Wherever he's going, James is just suddenly there. Pestering him. He didn't know how he always found him. Even in a hidden alcove that he thinks it was only him who knows about it then suddenly there's James. Writing his essay.

He even got the nerve to look surprised. "Wow Reg, didn't know you would be finding me here."

"You're getting suspicious." Regulus crossed his arms.

"Maybe I just wanted your attention." James cocks his head to the side and leaned back to the wall. "You know, you are not easy to erase from my mind. Just—tila ako'y nahulog sa mala bituin mong ganda."

Regulus just gave that baffled look, obviously not understanding a word he said. But that didn't stop him from replying. "I wasn't aware that you still have a brain."

"Hey!"

"Seriously," James snorted. "What do you want?"

"I already told you, liligawan kita."

"You think you're high and mighty 'cause I don't understand what you're saying?"

"Oh, I'm loving it."

"Va te faire foutre!"

—

"What does 'liligawan kita' means, Sirius?" Regulus asks his brother, hesitantly. Surely he knows some Filipino phrases since he lives with the Potters now. He didn't expect his already pale face to go paler.

"Did James tell you that?"

"He kept repeating it when I asked him what his pestering means," Regulus shrugs. Sirius temper is boiling now. That doesn't sound good.

"It's what Monty did to Effie," Sirius trails off. "Did he really say 'ligaw' to you?"

"That's how I learned to pronounce it correctly," Regulus deadpans.

"It means 'pissing you off'." Sirius' tone is biting now. "Excuse me for a moment. I need to find James."

He didn't even wait for Regulus' reply. He just marched away. That surely is an odd reaction. Does it really mean that? Was he really just pissing Regulus off?

Regulus didn't have to wait for an answer. James came barrelling to him as if he were being chased. "Hi Reg, let's head to the library?"

"You know I could tell Sirius where you are, don't you?"

"It's not as if you have a way to communicate this far to each other," James smirks. He grabbed Regulus' wrist and pulled him to the hall.

He did not, in fact, go to the library. They went to the greenhouse instead.

"This seems too peaceful to piss me off, Potter."

"I just have to show you something." He seems to be finding something. "Here!" He gestured at a chain of flowers that were pure white, small, dainty, star-shaped blossoms with a very heady scent.

This was the first time he saw a flower like that. It smells really good. "What's it called?"

"Sampaguita," James said, with a smile blooming on his face. "It symbolizes purity and fidelity. It's from back home—like in the Philippines. They usually use those flowers for saints."

"And you're showing me this...?" Regulus trails off, asking.

"You look quite like a saint." Regulus never expected a compliment. Especially from James who suddenly vowed he would piss him off. This is clearly not pissing Regulus off. Quite the opposite, really. He knew James could be a charmer but he didn't see himself on the receiving point. "I want you to keep it," James continues, not letting Regulus think of a reply to the compliment.

"How are you so sure I can take care of it?"

"Because I can't. Just keep it. It's charmed so that it doesn't wither as long as its owner is in lo..." James trailed off so quietly he didn't hear the last word.

"Um, okay. How can I trust you it's not a prank?" Regulus asks, skeptical.

"Trust me." He's not even hinting that it's a joke.

"If this turns out to be a prank I would ask Sirius to kill you in your sleep or I could kill you myself."

"Then I'll gladly die if it's you I would see last."

—

If James is thinking that compliments and flirting gestures would piss him off then he's not thought of that well. Regulus came to the dorm, the Sampaguita chain practically wrapped around his wrist

"Wicked smell! Is that a new weed?" Barty asked.

"No."

"What? You're making this dorm a mini Hufflepuff common room, is that it?"

"It's just a flower chain and I'm not." Regulus places the flower on his desk. "James gave it to me. Said he can't take care of it."

"Seems to me, he's giving that to you as a gift."

"He's trying to piss me off. This is probably a prank."

"Then why was it wrapped around your dainty little wrist like it's very dear to you?"

"Who knows what would happen if I ruined it? Drop it, Barty. I do not have a romantic relationship with James."

"I didn't say you have a relationship with 'James'," Barty quotes. "Since when were you on a first-name basis?"

"We're not. Merlin, stop being nosy."

"I hope you know what you're getting into," Pandora said suddenly. Since when was she in here?

"Have you been here all this time?" Regulus asks.

"You're too busy gawking at the flower James gave you." Pandora walks towards him and gently grabs his arm where the Sampaguita wraps snugly. "This is interesting. It smells lovely. Is this Sampaguita?"

"How do you know that?"

"You can't forget a flower that smells as good as this. Lily gave me a chain of this flower after her vacation." She delicately touched the flowers. "James is really sweet giving you this. Are you sure it's his motives?"

"Why would he give me flowers if not annoy me? That would probably do something in my sleep."

"I'd love to die with that scent," Pandora commented. "Seriously Reg, Are you certain about his motives? It's unusual that he gives flowers to someone he doesn't fancy."

"It's not just a flower. It's a whole fucking chain," Barty adds.

"Would you two just stop."

"Just saying," Barty teases. "You sure he doesn't fancy you."

"No." If his face is red, no one's going to dare to point it out.

———

Next

"tila ako'y nahulog sa mala bituin mong ganda" - seems like i fell for your star-like beauty

"liligawan kita" - i'll court you

"Va te faire foutre" - go fuck yourself

[shadowtriovibes]

break a sweat: prologue

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Chapter Rating: G [Fic Rating: E]

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Sebastian Sallow was seven years old the first time he rode a broom.

i'm officially launching my rewrite of the "break a sweat" series as a multichapter fic! please enjoy this new prologue, which sees sebastian receive his first broom.

AO3 permalink: break a sweat

November 7, 1881

Sebastian Sallow was seven years old the first time he rode a broom.

He awoke on the morning of his birthday as he did most days, tucked inside the cozy warmth of the Sallow family’s coastal cottage.

November had arrived in the Highlands, which surely meant that winter was just around the corner. But that morning, the sun shone brightly over the rocky shoreline and the powerful gusts of wind with which Sebastian had become intimately familiar seemed to be holding themselves back.

It was almost as if the wind itself knew that this day was special – that one young boy would soon be meeting one of the greatest loves of his life: flight.

—

Albert and Margeret Sallow had left London with their young children in 1877. The family settled near the Firth of Forth in Ivanbreck, a small wizarding hamlet just outside the Muggle town of Gullane and not more than thirty kilometers from Edinburgh.

Four years later, the children had grown into curious, restless young things whose minds seemed to wander past the walls of their family home and out across the hills and valleys that lined the winding road toward Hogwarts.

Still without their own magic, the twins spent most of their days at their mother’s knee reading books well beyond their years about the study of magic. Sebastian and Anne were both desperate to start school, much to their parents’ bittersweet delight.

When Sebastian blinked awake the morning of this seventh birthday, the first thing he thought to himself was Only four more birthdays until Hogwarts.

Sebastian and Anne tumbled downstairs like a pair of drunken nifflers, slipping and sliding in their thick woolen socks toward the kitchen, where the smell of rich breakfast foods called them in like a siren’s song.

“Mummy!” Anne called out happily, skidding into her mother’s open arms. “It’s our birthday!”

Sebastian nearly collided with the dining table, only to be spared when his father snagged him by the sleeve of his pajamas and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, son,” Albert murmured into his sleep-mussed hair.

Then his mother hugged him as well, pressing seven kisses to each of Sebastian’s cheeks while he giggled delightedly.

“You two are getting so big,” Margeret crooned. “Seven years old, I can hardly believe it!”

“Go on, Maggie, let the boy breathe,” Albert laughed.

His mother had prepared a special breakfast with all the family’s favorites: thick-sliced bacon, oat porridge, juicy sausages, toasted oat bread, and, perhaps most importantly to Sebastian, a basket full of warm tattie scones.

“Make sure you have plenty to eat,” Albert said, winking across the table at his wife. “You’ll be needing your energy this afternoon.”

Sebastian squirmed with excitement throughout the meal as he wondered what his parents had in store for him and his sister. Birthdays were sacred to the Sallow family, and he’d never had one that was anything less than spectacular. (Of course, he could only remember a handful of birthdays at such a tender age).

Would they be going into the city to see the Muggle museum? Or perhaps Diagon Alley to get some new books… Maybe, he thought, just maybe they’ll get to see Hogwarts.

But instead of instructing the twins to get dressed and put on their traveling cloaks, Albert and Margeret simply took their children’s hands and guided them to the sitting room.

Resting on the low table by the fireplace were two long, thin packages wrapped in brown parcel paper and tied up with string. Each package had a small tag hanging from the narrower end: one marked with an S and the other with an A.

Sebastian felt his fingertips start to tingle as he tiptoed toward the table. Is this magic? he wondered to himself. Is it happening now?

“Go on, sweetheart,” Margeret whispered to Anne, who clung tightly to her skirts. “That one’s for you, do you see the ‘A’ on it?”

While Anne gingerly untied the wrapping strings and rolled back the paper, Sebastian eagerly tore into his gift with no thought of preserving its wrappings.

Inside was a riding broom. Shorter than a standard model from the sporting goods shop on the high street, this broom was evidently made for children who had yet to receive their magic. It had shiny metal footrests at the bottom and handles at the top with leather grips. Etched into the top of the broom handle were the words Oakshaft ‘81 – Junior.

Sebastian’s fingers trembled as he stroked his fingers down the length of the polished handle. He could have sworn he saw a handful of sparks flicker from his hands as he lifted the broom, but as soon as he noticed them they dissipated into thin air.

“What do you think, my boy?” Albert asked him proudly.

Sebastian hardly knew what to think. Brooms like this didn’t come cheap, much less two. His parents had always seemed comfortable as young professors, studying magical theory and offering instruction to a handful of local wizarding families with homeschooled children. But a gift like this…

“Thank you,” Sebastian whispered, blinking back tears. “I love it, thank you.”

With a proud smile, Albert scooped up a teary-eyed Anne and asked, “What do you think? Should we take them out for a spin?”

The rest of the afternoon, Margeret watched from the ground with a book in her lap, watching with equal parts maternal joy and anxious fear as Albert circled the twins on his dependable Smethwyck Spinner from the 1870s. To begin, he taught Sebastian and Anne how to kick off from the ground and ascend into the air.

“That’s it!” Albert roared as Sebastian floated fifty feet into the air and spun in a wobbly circle. “Excellent work, Sebastian!”

Anne took a bit more coaching to eventually lift her feet off the ground, but by the time she was giggling nervously and taking slow laps around the cottage, Sebastian had discovered the aerodynamics of forward flight.

“Not too fast, darling!” Margeret called out from below. “Oh, please do be careful…”

Sebastian didn’t touch the ground again for hours. By the time he eventually landed, panting and windswept and deliriously happy, it was nearly time for dinner.

“I take it you like your gift, hmm?” Albert asked with a knowing grin as he helped Sebastian store his broom in the small shed behind the house.

“I love it!” Sebastian exclaimed. “I’m gonna fly every day, and I’m going to be so good – maybe I’ll even play Quidditch!”

“Maybe you will,” Albert said indulgently.

“Dad, did you play Quidditch while you were in school?” he asked curiously.

Albert shook his head. “No, I wasn’t very good back then. I suppose I’m a fair flyer now, but the rest of it – the athleticism – that wasn’t for me. Nearly always had my nose buried in a book back then.”

“You still do!” Sebastian pointed out, and Albert laughed, tossing his head back.

“Aye, I do,” he agreed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I suppose. But if Quidditch makes you happy, you ought to go after it. There are plenty of things you can’t learn in books, after all.”

—

Sebastian and Anne were orphaned in the spring of 1882. In the end, Sebastian learned that perhaps there was a downside to having your nose buried in a book all day.

Feldcroft was a smaller hamlet than Ivanbreck. Uncle Solomon was less patient than Albert and Margeret, and he hardly had any books in his rather unadorned cottage.

…Sebastian didn’t want to be a professor anymore.

But he still had his broom.

By the time his eighth birthday arrived, Sebastian had already decided that he’d do whatever it took to be the best damn Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen.

[palfriendpatine66]

Vampire au 2 and 10 (I really want to ask for more, but will try not to be greedy)

If anybody still has asks from this WIP game I'm still answering!

I am SO GLAD you asked for this because I haven't touched this for months and months but I want to get back to it. I'm telling myself I'm going to write a min of 12 new sentences tonight for you, but in the meantime - have everything I wrote so far. It's not much but it's more than 12! (whether this be a chapter 2/continuation of my existing Smutty Vampire one shot or the beginning of an outlined multichapter fic...remains to be seen)

Anakin was lost in the feeling, swept up in the raging current that was dragging him under, helpless to do anything but follow its pull, when suddenly he was ripped away. Disoriented, the urge to snarl, to tear, to bite and rip his way back to the warm flow was stilled by a razor sharp pressure against his neck. 

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, a growl building in his chest purely on instinct at the threat of razor sharp teeth pressed against his throat, even as he obeyed his command. 

The sight of him, the feel of him overpowering his new body - a body brimming with power and strength unlike anything he had ever known - filled him with an entirely different kind of hunger even as his every instinct screamed out a warning of danger.  

“This bite made you mine,” Obi-Wan’s voice was a velvety soft caress even as the scrape of his fangs screamed danger. “I said stop. You will abide me.” Anakin didn’t need the command that reverberated in his tone to make him comply. He melted into the touch. He would do anything he asked. And yet still he needed, desperately-

“More.” A demand, a plea; it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he get more. 

“I know. I know,” Obi-Wan soothed, lips moving against Anakin’s skin. “It’s overwhelming. All consuming.” He shifted his restraining hold, one hand coming to rest on the back of Anakin’s neck to hold his gaze, the other settling on his hip. “Focus for me, this is important. What did I tell you?” 

Anakin did focus then, Obi-Wan becoming his one point of focus, the only thing that mattered in his existence. “Not to drink from the dead,” Anakin answered obediently. “We take life from their blood. If there’s no life left…” he drifted off, uncertain. 

“It’s ours that will be taken,” Obi-Wan finished. “Good. Very good. You’re doing well, I know this is a lot. How do you feel?” 

“I feel,” Anakin began to answer, but his focus remained captivated by the sight Obi-Wan made, experienced through his new eyes. The hunger, the need, surged through him, amplified by the touch which before had been so cold and hard and unforgiving. But now that Anakin’s body was changing, changing because it was filled with Obi-Wan’s blood - Obi-Wan’s life - his touch felt different.

He was softer, now that they were cut from the same stone. Not just warm now that they were the same temperature, but searing where their bodies came into contact. Now a different need spoke to Anakin, demanding.

“Tell me,” Obi-Wan urged him. “I will help you through it. Then I’ll show you how to control it.” 

Anakin found he didn’t much care for any of the repercussions of his choice at the moment, nor feel the need to control it. As the blood he’d so hastily consumed coursed through his veins he was electrified, brimming with energy and a new unbridled power. How could it be wrong if it felt so right? 

“I feel,” he paused before the word rolled off his tongue, “I feel everything.” And it was true. As he breathed in he could taste the dew that was starting to collect on the grass as the night cooled. He could smell the distinct scents of the different animals that moved through the woods; he could hear well enough to track each of their progress and would have been able to go to the location of each if he had any desire to find them. 

“It can be intoxicating,” Obi-Wan acknowledged. “Try to acknowledge and appreciate the changes. You must be present but separate the information you are getting from your new, heightened senses so that you aren’t overwhelmed by it. 

Anakin nodded absently, distracted by every layer of Obi-Wan’s steady voice.  He saw him now as he focused on him as if for the first time, because with his new vision the sight of him bathed in the moonlight was like nothing he had ever seen before. Even in that dark alley he had been able to see that he was a beautiful creature, as he had quickly revealed himself to be something else, something dangerous, something other than human. But in his strength, his hard smooth skin, and the gentle light behind those strange eyes had been otherworldly in their beauty. 

Now Anakin could see him more clearly, every detail only adding to his beauty. His face before has seemed smooth and hard, unforgiving. But now Anakin could see the fine lines from the life he had lived etched into his now unchangeable skin - laugh lines that told of happiness, creases that spoke of sadness and worry. Anakin found that he had drawn closer to trace over those lines as soon as the thought flicked through his mind, not even processing his own movement so fast and fluid it was. 

“You won’t have these,” Obi-Wan smiled lightly, sadly, as Anakin traced the wrinkles that marked the years of his life. “You’ll stay like this. Forever young,” he reached out to lightly touch Anakin’s cheek, mirroring his own hold. “Beautiful,” he concluded wistfully. 

His touch, soft yet firm, awakened something within Anakin. The warmth from his palm, warm where before he had been so cold, warmed by Anakin’s own blood coursing within him, stoked a fire within him that had just been waiting to be lit. Anakin looked at Obi-Wan with a new hunger in his eyes. “I want,” Anakin began, holding Obi-Wan’s palm against his cheek, sparing a moment to be distracted by his large hands. “I still want?” he asked Obi-Wan hungrily, a question in his voice.  

“That too will fade in time,” Obi-Wan assured in a low tone that sent a shiver down Anakin’s spine.

[p00pdev1l]

Chapter. 1 ☼ The Thief

A/N: I think I'm going to make this a multichapter fic when I figure out what I want to do with it, but essentially it's going to be a Cirrus x Vesper/Reader x Keir fic (no pronouns used), Warnings: aside from cirrus being possessive and mentions of corruption, none in this chapter (yet...)

“Where are you off to my angel?” Cirrus’ gentle timbre questioned beside you, gloved hands finding rest at the dips of your shoulders. You watched his regal reflection await your answer in the vanity mirror in front of you, “I figured now would be a good time to venture into the marketplace, I was thinking I’d buy us something nice to eat for our celebration tonight.” You smiled softly, gazing into his reflected masked stare. Cirrus enjoyed seeing your unmasked beauty, especially knowing he was the only one to do so, the corner of his lips quirked into a smile of their own. “A good time indeed.” He gave you a reassuring squeeze, hesitantly letting go as you rose to a standing position. “Don’t be out too long,” He warned, grasping your chin between his thumb and index, “you know I don’t like to be left waiting.” his lips now a firm line. You nodded in agreement, politely pulling yourself away, placing your mask over your face. As you did so, Cirrus returned behind you, draping one of your silk cloaks over your shoulders. “May the protection of our Lunar God be with you on your journey, my beloved star.” 

“I won’t be long.” you replied with a curt nod, “I promise.”

The marketplace was lively this evening, plenty of visitors and sellers alike wandering the endless roads. With all the different sights, sounds, smells, it was quite overwhelming for you at first, but it was nice to experience somewhere outside of the church every so often. You wandered aimlessly, passing through different shops, idly chatting with different vendors along the road, trying to gather items you sought out for the evening. Being thoroughly distracted by your errands, you barely took notice of the commotion that began to gather a crowd a few feet away from you. That was until you were being quickly approached by a figure running toward you. 

“Let’s go!” They shouted, grabbing you by your arm. “Thief!” another stranger shouted from behind them. Before you could react, you were running alongside the masked stranger. You held your basket close to your chest, holding the seams of your robe tight as you ran down the cobbled pavement. After a few blocks away, you were suddenly pulled into an alleyway, strong arms pinning you in front of them. “What are you–” you began to shout, but a gloved hand was pressed against your lips, a deep masculine voice shushing you. “Just be quiet.” He turned his head toward the side, silently assessing if he was still being followed. You breathed heavily into the masked bandit’s hand, struggling to catch your breath through the thick fabric. Upon hearing sounds of footsteps, large hands wander to your waist, pushing you further into the alleyway, his large form now shielding yours. You felt your cheeks heat at the intimate contact, unsure of what to do with your own hands, you pulled your cloak closer to yourself, hiding yourself behind his taller stature. 

After a moment of silence you spoke up, “Are they gone?” you whispered softly, your head tilted up toward his. “I think so.” He replied quietly. You took that realization as an opportunity to break away, shuffling a few steps backwards. “Why were you running away? Did you steal something from them?” you asked curiously, trying to understand even remotely what just happened. 

“Did them shouting “thief” at me help you come to that conclusion?” he asked rhetorically, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Of course I stole something, but it’s not anything they really needed.” you furrowed your eyebrows, immediately irritated by his tone. “Didn’t anyone teach you that stealing is wrong? And why did you feel the need to involve me in your mess?!”

“Depends on the context, and you were in the way.” He answered flatly with a shrug, “Anyway, who are you? You know, In case I need someone to frame for my crime.” You audibly scoffed, rolling your eyes behind your mask. “You’re unbelievable.” You tried to walk past him, but he leaned against the wall, blocking your way.

“And you can’t take a joke. My name is Keir. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.” He insisted, tilting his head in visible curiosity. “Vesper.” you answered curtly, “now can I pass?” you asked, with obvious impatience in your voice. You peered down into your basket, noticing some items had gone missing, uneasiness began to swell in your stomach. “Oh no, they must have fallen.” your voice was hushed, your eyes darted around, frantically searching the ground below you through the slits of your mask, “What are you missing? I could try and help you find them, it’s the least I could do.” Keir offered, the warmth of his voice was unexpected, causing your cheeks to flush once more. “I’m missing some vegetables, and a few herbs, they must have fallen onto the road.” 

“You know, if you hadn’t got in the way. You wouldn’t be in this predicament.” Keir chided, guiding you out onto the road. “And if you hadn’t stolen something that wasn’t yours, neither would you.” you retorted. Keir’s lips tugged into an amused smile. 

“As much as I’d like to spend the rest of my evening arguing with you, I have other business to attend to.” Your time was running out, knowing if you stayed out any later Cirrus would further limit your already short time spent outside of the church. Especially if he knew you were accompanied by someone other than him. “Wait here.” 

“Where are you going?!” you called out, “Keir, I have to return home!” 

“I’ll be back before you know it!” he shouted, already parting through the sea of people.

“Keir!” you called out once more, but your voice was drowned out by the boisterous sounds of the market, watching him disappear into the crowd. “Well so much for his help.” you sighed, continuing your search alone. After some time, you were approached by a familiar presence, with an outwardly stretched arm placed in front of you. In his hand held a knitted sack of vegetables and herbs, better looking than what you had originally picked. 

“Here, for the trouble.”

“Did you steal these?” You teased.

“Now you’re asking too much, just take it.” He nudged the bag forward eagerly, you took it gratefully, you felt his hand briefly tense into a tighter fist as your gentle fingers skimmed across his own, grasping ahold of the handles, “Thank you.” you nodded, now holding the bag close to you. You were overcome with a twinge of sadness, longing for more time with your newfound acquaintance. “Don’t say I didn’t do anything nice for you.” He quipped playfully, placing his hands on his hips. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” You smiled beneath your mask. 

“I hope we meet again Keir.” you confessed, hoping he couldn’t sense your desperation for his adventurous presence once more. An amused scoff left Keir’s lips, his arm lifting to place a hand on top of your head. “See you around Vesper.” And with that, you both separated. 

You approached the church doors with haste, pushing the heavy wood open as you made your way inside. “Cirrus! I’m here!” the melody of your voice reverberated through the empty church, though, it was unheard by anyone but yourself. The atmosphere felt heavy, you grew increasingly anxious as you walked further in, worried you may have upset Cirrus with your tardiness. Reaching his private quarters, you sifted through your items, organizing each ingredient you needed to wash and prepare. Quickly becoming deeply enamored by your task at hand, you hadn’t realized Cirrus behind you, his soft hum jolting you aware. 

“Cirrus–” you gasped, turning yourself to face him, you placed your hands behind your back, holding the edge of the counter for stability. 

“You were late, my little star.” The silky baritone of his voice cut you off with ease, with a few graceful strides he stood in front of you, patiently awaiting your explanation. Your mouth grew dry, he never ceased to intimidate you, his taller form peering down at you expectantly. Part of you was grateful you couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel them piercing through your very soul. “Did anything happen at the marketplace I should know about?” you felt your eyes widen, “No–No! I-I just–” you watched as his brows furrowed, his lips curled in distaste for your blatant lie, “I’m sorry, I must have gotten sidetracked–” he held up a firm hand, expecting your obedience. 

“Do you know why I only allow you outside of these doors for an allotted amount of time?” his head fell to a slow tilt, you stayed silent, “Because the people out there, they will take advantage of you,” as you turned your head to look away, he caught your jaw with his hand, his thumb and index digging into the soft flesh of your cheeks, holding your gaze up to his, “They will corrupt you.” he seethed, “And I simply cannot allow that.”

“I promise Cirrus, it won’t happen again!” you plead, wrapping trembling fingers around his wrist, trying to release yourself from his grip. “You promised me you wouldn’t be late, and yet, here we are.” he reasoned cooly, dropping his hand from its grasp to rest at his side. “You need to be cleansed for your insolence, how will you repent?” You wrung your hands nervously, “however you need me to.” 

The hem of lips formed a small smirk at your response, opening in a wide smile, baring sharp teeth on full display. “How wonderful.”

[whiteravengreywolf]

In this short Life that only lasts an hour, how much - how little - is within our power - a Wolfwren fanfiction

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to my new long multichapter fic! This one is a modern au where Shin and Sabine meet at a resort in the Alps. Here is the beginning and if you want to read the whole thing the link will be at the end!

The snow crunched under Shin’s snowboard as she paused in her descent. She felt a pinprick ache in her left knee. That wouldn’t do. Looking down at the slope, it swooped at a steep angle before easing to a cool forty-five degree angle some fifty meters below. Not by far the most complicated slope she had descended. It was the stabbing inside her knee that worried her.

“Why did you stop?” she heard Baylan’s voice ask in her helmet.

She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was observing her from the bottom of the ski slope. She rolled her eyes.

“I’m not allowed to take my time?”

“If you’re in pain, we…”

She cut him off.

“I’m fine”

As if to prove him that nothing was wrong, she put pressure on her left foot and sent her board sliding against the snow once more. She zigzagged down the slope at a casual pace. After a few twists and turns, it was easy to ignore the pain in her knee, even as it seemed to spread to her hip. She convinced herself that she was imagining it.

She avoided a few skiers then followed the bend of the slope around the mountain side. Fir and pine trees obscured the view on either side. Whatever little snow had fallen on them during the night was already melting as the sun shone high into the bright blue sky. Shin took a deep breath. She loved the smell of evergreens and snow. It was always the same, no matter where she was snowboarding, and it always reminded her of home.

The slope snaked out of the trees and on the edge of the mountain side. From there, Shin could see the resort nestled at the foot of the mountain. She could see the slopestyle training field, and the tiny snowboarders rushing down and hopping off the ramps. As much as she wanted more than anything to go train down there, Baylan wanted to take it slow. It wasn’t like she had a competition in a month or something.

The slope cut through the woods once more and Shin lost sight of the resort. The angle changed again and she gained speed. She deftly zigzagged between skiers and other snowboarders. After taking a steep turn, she reached the bottom of the slope, a few feet away from the chair lift leading back to the resort. She leaned back to slow her arrival. As soon as her board stopped, she leaned to unclip the strap on her feet. Baylan jogged up to her, a pair of binoculars around his neck and his phone in his hand.

“So, how did it go?” he asked.

Shin shrugged.

“It was fine. I don’t see why you worried.”

Pain burned out of her knee, but that was beside the point.

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

The Song of the Sea - Prolog

Pairing: Pirate!Eddie Munson x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: What would happen if a princess who wants to escape her golden cage of royalty finds herself in the arms of a pirate who is not just yearning for the sea anymore? You’ve been trapped inside the castle all your life, only dreaming about adventures and true love. He had always been a child of the sea, but something was missing in his life. You had no idea that this man, who you met by pure accident, would change the course of your life forever. Or maybe it was fate, about to meddle with your life like a puppet master playing the strings?

Warnings: Alternative Universe, not many warnings for the prolog, flirty Eddie is flirty, pirate things

Available on: AO3

A/N: Do you smell that? It’s the smell of the sea because I’m bringing you a new multichapter fic with pirate!Eddie and princess!Reader. I’ve been thinking about this scenario for quite some time not because I bloody love pirates but I had to write other things first haha. The prolog is rather time but I promise a bunch of fluff, drama, angst and smut in the future!

The chilly air of the summer night swirled around you as you hurried through the empty streets.

You never thought you’d make it and yet, here you are. Slipping out of your bedroom and past your bodyguard in the middle of the night to search for something you could never have.

Freedom.

You pulled the hood of your cloak a little deeper into your face. Almost every guard technically knew your face, it would only take a single second and you were back in the golden cage your birthright had given you. 

But that was something to worry about in the morning. Tonight, you’d be free. Just a common girl. At least that’s what you hoped you looked like. This was the first time in your entire life that you did something truly forbidden. You've always had a tendency to mischief but never anything serious. A harmless prank here, driving your maids insane there, but that’s it.

Tonight was your night, though. You borrowed a few clothes from your maid who was also your best friend. She didn’t agree with letting you go and thought it was incredibly reckless, but she also understood how suffocating your life was, especially with the impending doom of marriage hovering over you.

Marriage to unite countries and secure the wealth and peace you had.

It was something you had been raised to do and yet, you never wanted it. It had always been your duty as you were an only child, there was no one else to take over. That was also only one more reason why your parents had insisted on protecting you so much, guards at every corner and a personal bodyguard who wasn’t supposed to let you out of his sight.

This night though, he fucked up. You were fully aware that he might get in a lot of trouble for your actions, but you were also convinced you’d make it back unnoticed. No one would ever know.

You quickly shook your head and tried to get rid of those troublesome thoughts. That’s not what you wanted tonight. 

Tonight, you were seeking an escape in an establishment you had never seen from the inside before.

As soon as you came close to the tavern at the harbor, you already heard muffled voices filling the lonely streets and it made you smile. The castle had never been that lively around this time of the night, no voices to be heard at all.

You looked at the old looking sign to the “Booty Ahoy” tavern and snickered a little to yourself. What a silly name. It was at the other side of the whole capitol, so you were rather proud of yourself for finding your way here. 

A few of the staff had been talking about this tavern, so you hoped they wouldn’t be here this evening. You had picked this building despite the long way and the risk of guards because it was close to the sea and furthest away from the castle. The salty breeze on the outside made you smile, and you told yourself that one day, you’d get aboard the ship and see all the countries your parents didn’t allow you to visit.

Your curiosity was stronger than your fear of getting caught, so you entered through the heavy wooden door and got greeted with loud chattering and a musty smell.

For a moment your senses were completely overloaded by all the different things going on but excitement settled in quickly.

You had never been in a tavern before, and it looked like so much fun.

Problem was, you also stood out, standing there at the open door so a few eyes fell upon you. As soon as you realized, you hurried inside, looking for a more secluded spot in the corner of the tavern.

“Hey there, I’ve never seen you here before.” The voice of a young woman appeared next to you, and you looked into her smiling face. She seemed to be around your age, hands at her hips and looking at you with a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

When she noticed you didn’t answer she let out a soft laugh and shook her head. “My name’s Robin, what can I get you?”

You thought about it for a moment and realized you didn’t even know what someone would drink in a tavern like this. “Can I get water?”

“Water? You’ve come to the tavern to drink water?” Robin let out a loud laugh that caught a few eyes of the patrons. “Forget it, I’ll get you something that makes your visit worth it. You’ll like it, I promise.”

You just nodded at her offer, nervous and excited about what she would get you.

Only a couple of moments later she came back and placed a cup in front of you. “This is rum with our special ingredient. Try it.” She nodded towards the drink, and you slowly took it into your hands before nipping at it.

A shiver ran down your whole body and you tried to keep a straight face at the strong drink.

“You’re not much of a drinker?” Robin asked with a giggle, and you shook your head with an apologetic look. 

“Not really, no,” you admitted with a sigh. You were normally forbidden from drinking alcohol except a wine glass on a special occasion.  “I’d like to get used to it though.”

“Well, then I’ll leave you and your drink be,” she said and winked at you before going to a table full of men who played cards.

You sat there in silence and just watched the people for a while. There were the men playing cards, then there was a couple heavily flirting at another table, sometimes a young boy with curly hair came down from the guest rooms upstairs and talked to Robin before vanishing again.

The drink in front of you made you a little dizzy with every sip, so you took it slow and simply enjoyed the atmosphere.

At some point a middle-aged woman started to play a song on a small stage at the other end of the tavern and you slowly hummed along with her beautiful voice.

Is this how freedom felt like? You weren’t sure but being here made you feel different things at the same time and for once, you didn’t feel like you were suffocating.

Suddenly the door swung open with a loud bang and the whole tavern went quiet.

Your breath got stuck in your throat as you watched a man enter the tavern. He was dressed in a loose white shirt, a sword at his hips and long black boots. A few other men trailed behind him.

“What? No music? I’m disappointed,” the man with long locks laughed and the woman on the stage immediately started to play again, a little quieter than before.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” Robin asked from the counter where she was cleaning cups and he just walked up to her with a huge grin on his lips.

“Did you miss me, lass?” he teased, and she just groaned, shaking her head. 

“I didn’t, but-” She didn’t get to finish her sentence because the young boy with curly hair suddenly came running downstairs.

“Eddie!” he exclaimed and instantly ran towards the man, right into his arms for a bear hug.

“Dustin, my boy.” Eddie returned the hug, and it was really endearing to watch this interaction.

Robin didn’t seem to like the idea of having Eddie in her establishment, but he and the boy seemed to have some kind of connection. Brothers maybe?

You heard Eddie and Dustin chatter while you sipped on your drink. The group of men who had followed him inside settled down on a table not too far away from yours. They looked like sailors and with the way he acted and talked, Eddie must be their captain.

The young boy then nodded and walked back upstairs while Eddie went up to the bar. The talking and music got so loud that you didn’t understand their words anymore, but you could see how Robin’s face turned into confusion while the captain just got a laugh out of her before turning around, about to return to his table, when his eyes landed on you.

For a moment he just looked at you before the grin on his lips widened and he slandered over to you. You had the urge to pull the hood deeper into your face but that was barely possible anymore. It was probably one of the reasons why he caught your attention and you wanted to punch yourself.

“Ahoy there, lass. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” he said and sat down in front of you without even waiting for an invitation.

“Eddie, leave her be,” Robin said with a warning tone in her voice as she walked past, bringing a couple of drinks to his men who were already cheering for her.

“Excuse me? I’m just making conversation here,” he huffed back in fake offense before looking back at you, this time with a smaller grin, “am I not?”

You took another sip of your drink, already feeling the buzz in your mind. “Can’t complain so far,” you said with a low chuckle and his grin widened again.

If you were honest, you had no idea what to say. You had never seen this man before, so there was no way he would recognize you. Maybe it would be okay to take the hood off? But then again, someone might walk in at every given moment.

“You have a beautiful laugh. Mind showing me more of your face?” he asked and licked his lips. You took a moment to study his face a little more. His features looked soft and rough at the same time, he looked like he didn’t sleep too much lately. What caught you off guard was the eyeliner around his eyes, and he seemed freshly shaven. A necklace around his neck, swinging against the skin that was exposed by his loose shirt.

Then you thought about his words for a moment before looking around in the tavern, checking if you knew anyone here.

Eddie tilted his head and leaned in a little closer. “Or are you running from someone?”

He wasn’t so wrong about that. Not someone but something. “I might,” you admitted, and he chuckled.

His hand reached forward and pulled the hood up, just a little, so he could look into your face. There was a flash of something in his eyes before he licked his lips again and a bright smile appeared on his features.

“I understand,” he said with a nod before letting go of your hood and leaning back. Robin put a drink down next to him without a single word and he took it, raising it towards you.

“A toast to secrecy?” he asked with a cheeky grin, and you bit your bottom lip before nodding and toasting with him.

He didn’t even bat an eye while taking a long sip of whatever he was having while you winced at just the little bit.

“So, my lady of secrecy, is there anything you can tell me about yourself, or should I simply enjoy your company without any knowledge?” He sounded so charming, and his voice had such a ring to it that he was pulling you in without you doing anything about it. Was he the kind of man your parents had always warned you about?

“I think I’m going to keep my secrets,” you answered with a soft laugh at the face he was making.

“Ah, so two ships just passing in the night, I guess. Works for me.” He took another sip from his drink, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“You’re welcome to tell me more about yourself,” you suddenly said, not even sure why. He was intriguing and there was a different kind of air around him. And maybe you asked because you liked his voice a little too much.

“Oh silly me, I completely forgot because everyone in this tavern normally knows me,” he said with a cheeky grin. “My name is Eddie Munson, Captain of the Corroded Coffin and,” he leaned in a little closer to you, lowering his voice, “a pirate.”

A pirate?

Your eyes went wide in shock for a moment. This man was the captain of a pirate ship? You’ve heard and read so much about pirates, but he seemed so…innocent and friendly? Charming and sweet? How was this man plundering and murdering? There was no way he was a pirate.

There was a pleased smile on his lips and he grinned a little. “Are you scared now?”

A heartbeat passed.

“No.”

For some reason, thinking about the fact you were talking to a pirate, a real pirate, was exciting to you. You had never even been on a ship, your parents saying it was too dangerous exactly because of the pirates. The guards were talking about how they would hang them on sight and yet, he was here, in a normal harbor tavern? That didn’t seem to add up at all.

“Are you a real pirate?” you asked the question burning in your mind and he grabbed his chest, letting out a fake gasp of offense. So dramatic.

“Do you doubt my honesty, my lady?” he asked, obviously trying to hold back a grin.

“Well, pirates lie, don’t they?” you teased back and that got him to laugh. It warmed you from the inside.

“You got a point there, sweetheart.” He took another sip of his drink. “But I am a real pirate. Why would you doubt me?”

“I’ve never heard of you or your ship.” And the guards were constantly talking about pirates. “And you’re here in a tavern of the kingdom, not too far from the castle. Would a pirate crew not have some secret hideout tavern?”

He looked at you while you talked and the more you did, the more he started to grin, putting his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. He listened so attentively that it made you a little shy.

“Those are lovely tales, but you already answered your own question.” He leaned across the table a little more. “You’ve never heard of me. Why do you think that’s the case?”

You pondered his question for a moment. The most obvious answer would be that you weren’t really allowed to leave the castle because of the dangers outside but you could hardly tell him that.

He noticed you wouldn’t come up with an answer, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek with a grin.

“I just don’t leave anyone alive to tell my tale, so I can just hide in plain sight” he whispered with a wink and a shiver ran down your spine. He didn’t look like a ruthless killer, but your parents always told you to trust no one. So, he might be speaking the truth or just lie to your face.

You swallowed and took a longer sip from your drink, coughing a little at the burn in your throat. He closely watched your every move and for some reason it warmed you up even more than your drink did. No man has ever looked at you like this. No one ever dared to lay their eyes on the princess longer than necessary.

So many questions were in your head and you wished you could ask them all at once. Right when another one was about to slip out of your mouth, the door swung open again, cold air swirling around you for a moment.

Your heart dropped when you saw who walked inside.

“Steve? You’re early,” Robin called out from the table next to you, looking at the young man entering the tavern.

Eddie followed your shocked gaze, both of you watching the other man while he walked up right to the front of the bar.

He then looked back at you while you kept staring. “I assume that’s the person you’re running from?” His voice was a low whisper, almost drowned out by the music that started to play again as the musicians switched spots on top of the stage.

His voice got you back out of your thoughts and you looked at him, leaning back into the shadows some more. “Kind of.”

“Who is he? Your brother? Brother-in-law? Lover? Husband?” he asked, curiosity in his voice, especially after your reaction.

You let out a huff of desperation. Steve was neither of those things. He was your god damn bodyguard, and you had no idea what he was doing here. But you could hardly tell the captain this.

The air around you got a little tighter and your palms were sweaty, anxiety settling in your bones. Maybe you could just wait until he had his drink and was focused on it, you could make it to the door then. 

You looked around for another escape. Upstairs was not an option. The kitchen maybe? Robin was going in and out of there, but Steve might get a glimpse of you then. 

“Do you need an escape, princess?” Eddie asked and your eyes snapped to him in panic.

“What did you just say?” you asked with nothing more than a whisper and your body almost started shaking. Did he know who you were? Or was it just a term of endearment? He seemed to like them.

“I can get you out of here, just say a word.” Suddenly his playful attitude was gone and he looked at you with a serious look in his eyes. 

A heartbeat passed.

Then another.

“Please,” was the only word that left your mouth, but he nodded and swiftly stood up, holding out his hand for you to take.

“Then trust me.”

You looked at him for a moment, then to Steve and then back to the man in front of you before taking his hand in yours. His skin was calloused, so different to your soft skin. You shouldn’t trust a stranger.

Eddie pulled you out of your seat and wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you close to his body.

He walked towards the table where his crew was seated and threw a few coins on the table. 

“I’ll take this lovely lady back to the ship and I don’t want to see any of you dirty seadogs there for the next couple of hours,” he barked out with a laugh and the whole crew cheered on, slamming their fists on the table.

You felt heat rising to your cheeks and looking to the ground. You might not know much about relationships and were quite inexperienced yourself, but you knew exactly what he was implying. You were an avid reader, so you knew a few things.

Eddie then guided you out of the tavern into the night. Darkness engulfed you and you let out a relieved breath. That wasn’t so hard, right?

His hand was still around your waist and you were pressed to his body. You could feel the heat radiating off him and it somehow felt good.

“Are you going to tell me who that was?” he whispered into your ear as he started walking, making you follow his steps. It was only then that you realized that walking wasn’t as easy anymore as you had hoped and you were actually glad for his support.

“No.” You shook your head and he just accepted it with a small nod.

Just as he opened his mouth you heard the rattling of armor and heavy footsteps. Panic surged inside of you again and you looked around, sawing two knights coming over to you. The night patrol.

Eddie noticed the shift in you and dragged you into an alleyway, covering your body with his. The heavy steps walked right past you until you could barely hear them anymore.

“Just what did you do that you’re scared of the night patrol, sweetheart?” he asked with a low chuckle, his face so close to yours. “Are there more people looking for you? Do you have somewhere to go, or do you want to come with me?”

If you were not in your bed by morning, the whole kingdom would start looking for you, so you should really get going. But he was so close, warm, and different.  He pulled you in like the moon did the tides.

You took a deep breath, your chest pressing against his and neither of you moved for a long moment.

“What are you going to do if I come with you?” you asked, not quite sure of his intentions at this point. “You made it quite clear with your crew.”

He chuckled softly and then shook his head. “You have nothing to worry about. I might be a terrifying pirate, but I know how to treat a lady. What I told my crew was just to get you out without raising any suspicions and offer you shelter for a while. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to.”

“But I thought pirates-”, you started but he cut you off by leaning in even closer, his lips hovering over yours.

“Stop thinking about the pirates in your books or tales. I’m not like them.” He blew cold air against your lips. “Because if I’d wanted to take you by force, I’d have done that already.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words and actions. Then he pulled away, leaving the alley, and looking left and right before holding out his hand for you to take again.

“Are you coming or not? It’s entirely up to you.”

[rosanna-writer]

🎨 🏜️❄️

HIIIIIIIIIIII THANK YOU FOR THE QUESTIONS

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it THIS captures the Feysand vibe like the most - Rhys is evil and Feyre is worse, but no one thinks she's worse because she's cute and saved all of their asses that one time.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? I fucking LOVE it when people guess about what's next. My multichapter fics tend to be very plot-y for fanfiction, and I'm always like "am I being obvious? am I pulling off a twist? did they Notice The Thing?" and I vibrate with excitement every time someone does it.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? Calanmai hookup resulting in Feyre being pregnant UtM is my holy grail. The heightened sense of danger because there's another life at stake! The baby daddy drama (i.e. can the fae just smell that she's pregnant or can they smell Rhys on her?)! The potential for Feyre to be UtM even longer because the trials are paused until she gives birth! I think about it all the damn time.

And it could go in so many directions that it's hard to name one person who'd do it The Best tbh.

[damienthepious]

did you know that it's a full moon tonight? because that fact has shaped ALL my writing progress today.

i fucking hate this new editor by the way. i can BARELY fucking post fic at all anymore and it's fucking banishing me to the phantom zone. go read my fic on ao3 instead im begging you.

raised by wolves

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationships: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Sir Damien, Lord Arum, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin' Tuesday, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Werewolf!Rilla specifically, Secrets, (look i think rilla deserves to have some angsst explored for once), (uhhhh god there have GOT to be more tags uhh. i don't know i'll add more later), (In later chapters there will be), Implied/Referenced Harm to Children, Implied/Referenced Violence, Mild Injury

Summary: Rilla is keeping secrets.

Notes: This didn't exist this morning and now i've got a new fucking multichapter to worry about jesus fuck. hopefully (LMAO) this one won't actually be that long? if it goes according to.. plan???? yeah. right. fine. okayfine.

~

Rilla has always liked straight lines. Consistent rules. Categories, into which data points will neatly fall.

This might, possibly, have something to do with all the categories she falls between the cracks of, herself. Or maybe she was always going to be like this. Who knows? She doesn't exactly have a control group to check with. Life doesn't work like that; neat and tidy like her experiments. Life is messy. Her life, in particular, is messy. But, hey, at least it's messy mostly on a predictable cycle. Mostly.

Rilla packs her usual bag, false bottom carefully in place with her new tinctures alongside the old standbys. She pulls her hair out of her face and into a braid, and picks her way down to the greenhouse to say her goodbyes.

A newer wrinkle in the routine: saying her see-you-in-a-couple-days, I-promise-I'll-be-safe, try-to-remember-that-I-love-yous in the Keep, now, and not in her own hut. Saying them to Arum, too.

Arum hasn't questioned her absences, yet, because she goes off on her own all the time anyway, and because he never really seems to question her about leaving the Keep. She can tell that he doesn't want to remind her of being kept here, and... that isn't necessary, really, but it's sweet, in a way.

He and Damien can keep each other company while she's gone, too. Which is nice. Damien doesn't have to be quite so lonely when she's gone, anymore (and Arum doesn't have to be lonely at all, if she can help it).

She kisses Damien deep, distracted by the way his skin smells, this close to the moon, and when she pulls back Arum nuzzles his snout into her neck in a way that makes her want to growl, though she manages to suppress the urge into just a shudder as she wraps an arm around him and squeezes. No time for fun, just now, unfortunately. She kisses Arum's cheek, light and sweet to make him scowl, and then she peels herself away with a casual wave.

The Keep's portal drops her in the front room of her hut, receding back into the wide planter to the left of the hearth with a gentle farewell warble from the Keep (or at least... what she assumes is a gentle farewell warble), and Rilla grabs another one or two things to stuff into her pack before she steps out of the hut, locks up, and marches into the jungle.

Damien thinks that her monthly disappearances have to do with harvesting rare medicinal plants with very particular blooming cycles, which is... partly true. There are flowers and herbs to be harvested during the day, when she can. She doesn't like being less than honest with Damien, but she's been less than honest with every single person she's ever known since her parents were Exiled. And- it's a medical condition. Sort of. She's allowed to keep a medical condition private if she wants to.

Arum...

Arum complicates things. He's good at that.

Arum complicates her excuses for not telling Damien, specifically. Because if Damien can, in fact, put aside his animosities and find room in his heart for a monster...

(Maybe she could have told him ages ago.)

(Or maybe not. Maybe it would have been too much, before. Maybe he would have been terrified. Maybe he would have felt betrayed. Maybe he would have told the Crown. Maybe he would have-)

No one knows about the second hut, the same way no one knows about her condition. Though... "hut" is generous. Her home is a hut, cozy and carefully cluttered and warm and welcoming. This building is more of a shack, really. It's a fair hike from the hut, but she can get there before dusk with time to spare, which is pretty much the point. Technically speaking, she could just overnight here and then come back home during the day, if she really pushed it, but that would be a lot harder to explain than just saying that she needs to travel to a distant grove for botanical purposes.

It looks abandoned and ramshackle, but the door and the lock are sturdy, and Rilla has the key.

Sturdy, reinforced walls, a wooden locking bar to make certain that nothing gets in and out, no windows. Bare floors, excepting a chair and a desk in one corner for a little bit of reading or writing during the day, and a chest to keep her things in. Mostly open space, where Rilla spreads out the blankets she brought, right in front of the metal hoops for the chains.

She cut her timing a little close today, mostly because she wanted to actually enjoy her morning with Damien and Arum. She sighs, stretches, and unpacks her extra clothes into the chest so she can get to the false bottom of her pack and pull out her medicine.

First night. She'll go with her standby tincture, this time. She has a new experimental blend she wants to try, but she'd rather save it for tomorrow, the full moon, and see how it affects her on the day that hits her with the most severe symptoms. This one, she at least knows that it'll keep her mostly placid.

She sighs, uncorks the vial and slams it back like a shot, wrinkling her nose at the taste.

The medicine makes her memory a bit... muddy? But even before she developed this particular treatment regimen, she couldn't remember much about what happened, what she would do on the nights immediately surrounding the full moon.

She does know that she hates it here. Hates the chains, hates the wood against her claws, hates the drowsiness from the medicine. Hates being alone.

She packs her kit back up. She undresses to her underclothes, then stows her dress and shoes and the tinctures into the chest before she closes it with a click.

She goes to sit on the blankets on the floor, then, fixing the harness around her neck and chest and adjusting it to the marked positions. Rilla has been alone in one way or another since her parents left, she reminds herself as she settles in to wait, her skin already prickling and her eyes adjusting far too quickly to the dark.

The wolf will just have to cope.

[prongsie-kins]

part three of when i met you

this is a filo!james au revolving around james potter courting regulus black in a semi-traditional way

disclaimer: english is NOT my first language and not the type that this would be beautifully written but there might be some grammatical error i didn't notice while editing. also keep in mind that this is my first multichapter fic and im still trying to improve my writing

translation at the bottom

Beginning | Previous | Next

then you came you brought me out of the shell

"James!" Sirius shouted, fuming mad. "Are you seriously courting my brother? My baby brother?"

"Yes, I am Siriusly courting Regulus," James playfully replied. "But yes, I won't make any promises that I wouldn't hurt him because that is inevitable. I'm serious about him, no pun intended. And I want to show him that he could like me like I could like him."

"Fine, I'll trust you in this one but at least let me help you. I want to know how you do it."

—

"How do you do this?" Sirius complains. James only laughs and pats his back.

"Just push your thumb on the first layer of the wrapper around the meat so it can be rolled easier," James explains as he wraps another one and then folds both ends of the first layer before continuing to roll it around the rest of the wrapper. Then finishing it by applying egg wash to the edge of the last unrolled corner. He did all that in one swift motion.

James have done a neat pile while Sirius did three. Wrappers all messy and loose.

The two were in the kitchens making a snack James would give Regulus. Politely asked the elves to let them use the kitchens. They were kind enough to bring them the ingredients they needed. Sirius stuck around as he wanted to eat a few as well. James then forced him to help, stating he can't make many by himself.

By the time James added a single roll in the hot oil, Sirius chickened out. Stepping back to watch James work.

The dish turns out golden brown, alongside Sirius' hard work, with the meat poking out of the wrapper. He munched on it earnestly.

When they got back to their dorm, the dish was suddenly in a green Tupperware James conjured out of nowhere. Turns out, Effie insisted on them keeping the Tupperware when she sent them food from home.

James has his own Tupperware stacked somewhere hidden in the dorm. Different colors of Tupperware in various sizes. Effie constantly reminded them never to lose the Tupperware whenever she sent them to either James or Sirius. They made sure to keep that reminder in mind because you do not want to see Effie mad.

—

An odd-looking container was suddenly perched up on Regulus' desk. It was large, circular, and bowl-shaped with a funky-looking lid full of ridges resembling folded paper. There was a note attached on top of the lid.

If you ever feel hungry studying late at night

~James

p.s. make sure to bring back the container, Mum would be upset ;)

Regulus carefully opened the lid of the still-warm container. It was probably charmed to stay warm as it seemed like the container had been on his desk for half an hour. Inside the container are golden bite-sized rolls. He often sees Sirius and Marlene munching on this snack.

He grabbed one roll and slowly took a bite of the crunchy roll. He immediately tasted the slightly salty wrappers that kind of looked like a crepe. Inside were ground meat filled with various ingredients such as onions and carrots. The flavor exploded in Regulus' palate.

He always wanted to try this snack and James gave him a container filled with it.

He happily munched on them while studying. His non-dominant hand grabs a roll—as it is slightly greasy due to deep frying it—while his other hand is turning the pages of the book he's reading.

This is the scene that greeted Barty by the time he went back to their dorm. He was fully intent on taking a nap before smelling food coming from Regulus' way.

So as instinct, he walked towards Regulus."What's that?" He asked.

"Oh, this?" Regulus gestures to a Tupperware filled with snacks sitting on his desk. "James gave it to me."

"Can I have one?"

"No."

"Is it that good?"

"Ask James for it. This is mine."

"You have gotten too whipped for him to get to that point."

"I am not. He sent me this for something to eat while studying late at night. I don't want to finish it before later."

"You are so in denial at this point. How can you process things with that air-filled brain of yours to not take a hint in this."

"He's just being considerate, Barty. Stop it, please."

"I won't be promising nothing."

—

"How'd you like the Lumpiang Shanghai then?" James asked the next day.

"Is that what's it called? It's incredible. How'd you make the elves do it?" He asked, a bit curious since it's a foreign dish.

"They didn't. Well, they were kind enough to buy us ingredients but mostly we did the job. It was Mum's recipe," James shrugs.

"You, James Potter, can cook?"

"I can sing for you too if you pleased."

"No thanks. But you did mention 'we', who helped you making?"

"Sirius." James was shocked to hear Regulus laugh since it was the first time he heard it actually genuine.

"Really," Regulus asked, incrediously. "My brother, helped you cook?"

"He cooked for himself but it's the thought that counts."

Regulus chuckles. Still refusing to believe what he has heard.

"Where was the Tupperware, by the way?"

"Barty lost it, sorry?" James visibly pales at Regulus' reply. "Why? What's wrong?"

James released a shaky laugh. "Lagot, I am seriously screwed when we get back home."

Next

———

"Lagot" - an expression usually used when you are in trouble.

[starqueensthings]

WIP Poll Result!

Here it is pals! An 11 sentence snippet from Dork Love Pt. 3 as part of this fun little WIP game. (It should technically be 13 sentences, but the whole 4th paragraph is one sentence so I'm taking the liberty to count it as more.)

“Anything?” Hunter probed curiously. 

“No,” Tech lamented, shifting his feet below him to further alter his vantage. “It is too dark to differentiate anything.” 

“Well, here…” the sergeant chuckled. “Here, Tech… Tech!… Maker, will you just take the damn flashlight?” 

Tech permitted his gaze to depart the shadows for only long enough to snatch the offering from his brother’s outstretched hand, igniting it with a deft flick of the switch and aiming at as precisely as he could through the infuriatingly small gap, but the presence of any obvious clues remained shrouded in darkness… evading him, and every panicked exhale accumulating like a cloud on the glass in front of him, saw the simmering panic in his chest continue to boil until even the innate act of swallowing was rendered a challenge.  

“Well… I don’t sense anything weird,” Hunter offered, his voice perfectly pairing the phlegmatic way he stepped backward and looked casually toward the direction they’d come from. “I thought I could smell blaster fire a few minutes ago, but it might have been that pair of shifty looking Rodian’s we passed earlier. And, if I’m being honest, it’s hard to smell anything over-and-above the rank trash scattered everywhere in his hell of a hole-in-the-ground. How does anyone bre—” 

“There is a mug,” Tech interrupted gravely, his gauntlet clunking against the window as he impatiently moved to wipe away the condensation collecting in his line of sight again.

(is this even worth tagging people in?? probably not? but here we are anyways?) Taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dystopicjumpsuit @blueink-bluesoul @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream

**since my taglist form differentiates ficlets from multichapter fics, I did not tag those who did not sign up for multichap as this is technically a portion of a 3rd chapter.**