#shadow weaver reader insert

[jokeringcutio]

"D&D Saturday" - Stranger Things & FFNAF Crossover - Reader Insert (Implied William Afton x Reader & Eddie Crush, Implied Eddie x Steve) (1...)

AN: Reader works at Freddy's and meets interesting characters. Not sure how to tag this, can be seen as a follow-up on [this is a nice job ](Black Phone) & [ The Star Clown ] (One Piece) which doesn't feature Eddie or Steve), or can be seen as the first of a series involving Stranger Things characters in this setting.

Summary: You're working at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place for William Afton and Mr. Henry, when it's a D&D Saturday. Your colleagues are discussing who they would date. The curly-haired Eddie keeps stealing glances. But then Steve enters and you have a hunch something is going on between the two.

Fandoms: Five Nights at Freddy's, Stranger Things. Rating: Teen? Warnings: None really. Girls discussing boys. Creepy older boss Afton. Possible EddiexSteve. Possible Reader x Eddie/Steve attraction. Modern-day life/Contemporary setting. Lucy is sweet and Erica is up for some. Not betaread. [ Support x ]

Dungeons and Dragons. An entire Saturday filled with sweaty teenagers and adults alike, playing imaginary heroes in the grand hall that usually hosted kids' parties. Events like this took place every once in a while. It was a way for Mr. Henry and Mr. Afton to gain a little extra money and show they played an important role in society.

You darted through the crowded hall of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place, the fabric of your uniform clinging to your skin like a second shadow. It was hot in here, and stuffy. Your arms balanced a tray laden with vibrant bowls, each brimming with sugary concoctions meant for the hungry adventurers at the tables. The cacophony of arcade games and children's laughter was punctuated by the occasional clatter of dice on tabletops.

A group of mostly teenagers caught your eye. You’d seen them here before, they usually played with the arcade machines down the hall. Approaching the table where Will, Mike, Dustin, Lucas's little spitfire of a sister Erica, Gareth, and Jeff were huddled, you caught fragments of another realm spilling from Eddie Munson's lips. He was their Dungeon Master, a weaver of worlds, his hands orchestrating the rise and fall of empires with a mere flick of his wrist.

"Behold, the cavernous abyss opens before you," Eddie's voice rumbled, deep and gravelly, commanding the room's attention despite the surrounding chaos. "A pit of despair where only the valiant dare tread."

Intrigue snared you, halting your hurried steps as you lingered at the edge of their table. You stood there, rooted, while Eddie painted scenes of dark fantasy with his words. His long, curly hair framed his face, the dim light catching in those wild locks as if he possessed an inner fire that threatened to consume the very air.

He was hot all right. Mesmerizing. Beautiful.

"Will you cower? Or will you leap into the maw of madness?" he challenged, eyes dancing with a ferocious glee that seemed to mock the very notion of fear.

The players leaned in, ensnared by his narrative. And so were you. All other sounds faded to a distant hum, drowned out by the beating of your heart and Eddie's hypnotic cadence. No wonder his group was one of the biggest. He had a way with words, telling tales like a true artist.

"Darkness claws at your back, whispering secrets of power and ruin," he described everything so vividly that you could see shadows slipping along the walls, transforming the restaurant into a menacing forest. You wanted to hear more, to know how this story would end. But you were supposed to be working and knew your boss was always watching and listening in.

“Do you like what you see?” Eddie’s voice wrapped around you, and you realized with a start that his dark eyes had turned to you.

Wait. Was he talking to you now?

"Want to join us?" He asked, his voice dripping with flirtation and edged with a charisma that was hard to resist. Eddie's invitation sliced through the din of clattering dishes and muffled conversations, directed solely at you.

The world around you seemed to pause, every eye at the table briefly flickering towards you.

“I… I,” you stammered.

“There’s room in the party for one more,” Eddie's dark eyes burned upon you, a mischievous smile curving his lips. His question was bold, his eyes raking down your body, obviously taking in the fact that you wore a uniform and were on duty – and then bluntly ignoring this.

“The devil knows they need every help they can get,” he added with a dramatic roll of his eyes while he gestured at the group around the table, earning him shouts of ‘oi’ and ‘hey, not fair dude’ from the others.

Blushing under the intensity of Eddie's stare, you stammered. "I…I can't. I am working,” you gestured rather helplessly at your uniform. He must have seen it. Why did he still ask you to join?

"Oh man,” the shout came from the boy wearing the cap indoors, covering his dark curls. Dustin, wasn’t it? “ Eddie's going all heartbreaker on the waitress!"

Oh, So that was why. Was Eddie flirting with you? Did he do that more often?

Laughter erupted from the table, your cue to escape. You seized the opportunity to back away, to retreat into the safety of routine and responsibility. Yet, Eddie's smile lingered in your mind, the glint in his dark eyes, the mischievous curl of his lips. Would you have joined if you hadn’t been on duty?

With measured steps, you navigated through the maze of tables. The bar loomed ahead. Just a few more steps and you’d have a place to hide behind. Erica and Lucy, your colleagues, huddled there, eyes sparkling with secrets and sin.

"Check out the back," Erica said the moment you got to their side, a wicked edge to her voice. “Lucy can’t stop talking about the big bloke with the blond hair over there.”

"Golden boy's got charm," Lucy murmured.

Erica agreed, nodding toward the far end where a blond guy leaned into the game, unaware he was being watched, weighed, and measured. Their laughter spilled over, sharp and sweet like shattered candy.

Lucy's gaze flicked to Eddie, then back to you. "And what about curls? Dark and dangerous has its perks."

"Metalhead's got mystery," Erica conceded, her grin all teeth and trouble.

Your eyes followed theirs over to where Eddie sat and you felt your cheeks flush.

Had they seen you talking to Eddie?

Erica’s grin told you they had.

"Who needs golden boys when shadows beckon?" she teased you. Oh, they knew. They knew.

“Shut up,” you said, carelessly waving a hand to brush it off.

“But he’s got a fine figure, girl,” Erica said, wiggling her eyebrows. “No need to feel ashamed to admit it. Of all of the guys around here, there are only a few that would do. And he’s definitely one of the better ones.”

"Shadows can hide monsters," Lucy said, but her eyes showed a glint of giddiness. She wasn’t warning you to stay away, that was for sure.

"Or treasures," Erica countered, though her eyes never left the figures at play.

"Treasures," you echoed, “this whole Dungeons and Dragons game is starting to affect your minds.” You dropped the empty tray in the trolley and came to stand with them behind the bar.

“So what if?” Erica asked, challenging you while she rested her elbow on the bar and wiggled her eyebrows.

“You’re going to play along with them?” You asked, curiously.

“Na-ah, I’d never be caught at one of them tables,” Erica replied a little too brusquely. “I’m not a nerd.”

“Would you?” Lucy’s soft voice caught your attention, but there was no judgment in it. Such a sweetheart she was. You turned to see her leaning on the bar, both arms in front of her, her chin resting on her hands. Her eyes firmly upon the room to keep track of anyone who might need her.

“I’m not sure,” you answered truthfully.

Erica snorted, but before she could say something teasing, the door swung open and the three of you fell silent. A young man came in, hesitating as he looked around, and then smiled as he noticed the three of you behind the bar. He instantly headed your way.

He was well-built, you noticed, in his early twenties probably. Brown eyes sparkled with kindness as he approached. But the hair. Gosh, that brown hair!

Your gaze clung to him, the way his shadow stretched across the scuffed floor, how the light caught the edges of his brown hair, accentuating the fullness and fluffiness of it.

"Look who's here," the only girl at Eddie’s table called out a little too loud, making it obvious that it was meant to be heard by your new guest. "Steve!" she called out, her voice a melody laced with mischief. "You rolling dice with us tonight?"

“You're early,” the boy you knew to be Dustin hollered.

“Game hasn’t ended yet,” one of his friends – Gareth? – shouted.

“Sure hasn’t,” Eddie piped in, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Can wait another minute, big boy?”

Your lips parted, but no words came. There was a spark between the two young men and all you could do was watch, heart thudding against your ribs. There was definitely something going on between those two.

Your friends would be so disappointed to learn they wouldn't stand a chance.

“Sure,” Steve – you now knew – waved at the group and then turned to continue his way to the bar. He ambled over, his smile warm and inviting.

“You’re not going to play?” Erica asked the moment he arrived, and he chuckled, then shook his head.

"Nah, the only thing I am playing is chauffeur today." His eyes twinkled while he placed his right hand atop the bar. “I’m driving some of the kids.”

Kids, you thought. Most of them were around fifteen or sixteen years old and he still called them kids. It was cute in a way.

“Are you a big brother or something?” Erica asked, still doing all the talking. But Steve shook his head once again.

“More of a babysitter. Well, used to be,” he said with a frown when he seemed to realize how silly that sounded with the kids being teenagers and all. “But it just… stuck, you know.”

He pointed at the fridge behind the bar. “Can I have one crystal green one, please?” He started to take out his wallet.

“One crystal green coming at ya,” Lucy replied, rushing over to the fridge and beating a clearly agitated Erica to it. Erica’s expression soured even more when Lucy put the drink on the counter and took the time to help Steve as he paid with one swift wipe of his card.

“So have you ever played?” Erica asked, clearly trying to get Steve’s attention again and ignoring how Lucy was working on Steve’s order.

“D and D?” Steve asked, surprised, like a deer caught in the headlight – as if no one had ever asked him that question before. He put his hands inside the pockets of his coat, awkwardly shuffling on his feet. “Naah, I am more of a er…”

“Hey Mom, can you get us a Coke and a soda while you're at it,” Dustin shouted across the hall and Steve flinched.

“More of a mom?” Erica asked while grinning cheekily.

Steve flushed, clearly not at ease, while Lucy piped up from behind Erica’s back. “Ah, a mom. Isn’t that lovely,” not a question but a statement. She didn’t seem to notice how shy Steve turned at her comment, his cheeks flushing red and his lips parting in a stammer.

“Shall I get you a Coke and a soda then?” Lucy professionally asked, turning her big doe-eyes on Steve who was still looking all flustered.

“Yes,” he said, nodding. You noticed how he was still fumbling with his pockets.

“I never eh,” Steve looked over his shoulder, his eyes directed at the group and you followed his gaze. Eddie looked up. Dustin smirked and held up two thumbs. Steve let out a loud groan at this.

“I never played this game before, if you wish to know. I’ve no idea how it works. Driving those kids around is heroically enough for me,” he joked.

Erica cocked her head, grin undimmed. "Our knight in shining armor."

"Someone's gotta keep these streets safe," Steve said with a mock salute, the gesture a dance between boyish charm and the weight of something more – something you had no idea about. As if he was older than his age, had seen more horror than he should have.

"Safe from nerds or Demogorgons?" Erica chimed in, her laughter a silver bell in the dim room. You’d heard a lot of talk about Demogorgons as they featured in today’s one-shot as the bad guys. Apparently, Erica had been paying attention too - despite claiming she would never play the game.

"Both are equally terrifying," Steve shot back, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“I bet,” Erica said, handing him the Coke and soda. She stood behind the register, cashing Steve’s payment with a flirty smile. Steve remained polite, you noticed. Still smiling that kind smile, but not reacting to Erica’s flirty comments as he paid.

Definitely not into Erica, you made the mental note.

You leaned against the counter, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses a backdrop to your silent observations. Steve's laughter, a rich melody, floated across the room. Yet, his gaze… Those brown eyes betrayed him. They flicked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

His eyes were drawn like magnets to where Eddie sat.

And Eddie returned the glances with a wicked little smile every single time.

Something's there, you thought. Not just camaraderie. More. A lingering look too potent to be platonic. The glances and smiles only confirmed your suspicions.

Steve drained his drink before gently placing the empty bottle on the bar. He stood, broad-shouldered silhouette moving with a purposeful gait. Toward Eddie. His stride was a silent confession, each step an unspoken word.

"Erica," you said, turning to Erica and Lucy, "I think you might have to try someone else.” They both looked at you skeptically. “Steve might be into guys." The words fell like stones in still water.

Erica's laughter pierced the air, sharp and sudden. "Gay? Steve 'The Hair' Harrington? The boy who has been dating all the girls while in high school?" She snorted, shaking her head, curls bouncing. "That's rich."

"Watch," you said, nodding toward where Steve approached Eddie's table, a gravitational pull in every motion. The way their eyes met, the sparkle you saw between them, the way Eddie smirked and Steve smiled, leaned over him. A silent whisper passed between their lips, each mindful of the audience they had.

“Oh wow,” Lucy said almost breathlessly, obviously seeing what you saw.

"Nonsense," Erica huffed, not ready to see what the two of you saw, though her tone wavered.

"So, who are we gonna date? I call dibs on Steve," Erica declared as she leaned over the bar and cocked a brow, completely ignoring the obvious. Her fingers drummed on the countertop, a rhythm to her racing heart.

Lucy leaned back, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the distant figure at the rear of the room. "I’ll take Blondie back there," she said, a smirk played on her lips, confident, challenging.

"Lucy, you don't even know his name," Erica teased, her laughter dancing in the air.

A shrug. "I don't know his name... yet." Lucy's words dripped with promise, a huntress eyeing her prey.

They turned to you, twin sets of eyes bright with curiosity. "And you? Who would be your pick?" Erica asked, her voice lilting with mischief.

“I bet you’d go for the curly-haired one,” Lucy murmured, batting her lashes at you. “He’s dreamy in a sort of Goth-Punk kind of way.”

You were certain those weren’t the right terms to address the man, but still, you couldn’t help how your eyes wandered and found him. Eddie. His gaze locked onto yours, a spark igniting in the darkness. That smile, lopsided, dangerous.

You quickly turned your gaze away but were certain the others had seen you looking.

“I knew it,” Lucy said with a victorious smile.

"Ladies," a voice like gravel rumbled behind you.

You spun, heart leaping into your throat to find your boss standing right behind the three of you. Because... of course. The worst scenario you could think of just had to become real.

William Afton loomed behind you, his presence casting a shadow that felt too cold. The aviator glasses perched on his nose magnified his predatory gaze.

"Perhaps you should focus on serving rather than fantasizing about dating our customers," he drawled, his tone edged with something unspoken, something dark.

You nodded, mutely, the warning clear. Get back to work. Don’t talk about our guests like that.

"Of course, Mr. Afton," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk was knowing, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

"Good girl," he said, the words a caress and a brand all at once.

Had the others heard that? But when you looked at them, they were already rushing into the hall, busying themselves in fear of being reprimanded by Mr. Afton again. And when you turned to your boss, he was no longer there but had returned to his office, his door ajar. Listening, lurking.

You quickly busied yourself behind the bar and suppressed a shiver.

Surely you had imagined his words?

Yep, that was totally it.

Your eyes drifted back to Eddie at the table, Steve by his side, half bent over him, their breaths mingling. And then Eddie’s dark eyes shot up to meet yours.

He grinned.

[all-things-alura]

Welcome!

My name is Joye Everett, and my primary blog is @dirt-apple-productions. You can also find me on other social media sites. I’m somewhat infamous for my controversial She-Ra takes, some of which involve Shadow Weaver. I’ve always thought that the show missed a lot of opportunities to make her a deep and interesting character, and due to my dissatisfaction with her arc, I’ve taken to writing a series of books about what I wish the writers would have done with her character (along with some self-indulgent goodies, of course).

This series is called the Alura Trilogy, after Shadow Weaver’s true name in old Masters of the Universe content. Currently the project exists as a series of novels on Wattpad, AO3, and Fanfiction.net. However, I am in the process of adapting these books to graphic novels, podfics, cartoons, and possibly a musical (that one is still up in the air).

This blog is dedicated to posting Alura-related content. Anyone is welcome, whether you

Like She-Ra or not

Have seen She-Ra or not

Agree with me about Shadow Weaver or not

Like Shadow Weaver or not

Like Catradora or not

The only thing I ask is that you are respectful and kind. I am not a Catradora shipper for several reasons, and they are portrayed as sisters in my story. Additionally, I do not believe that Light Spinner was abusive or manipulative toward Micah (although their relationship was definitely fraught even before the Spell of Obtainment), and that is also reflected in this project. Finally, I am of the opinion that Shadow Weaver’s death and overall arc was a massive writing blunder on the show’s part, and one of the reasons this series exists is to rectify what I see as egregious writing errors that contradict the core themes of the original show. If these takes bother you to the point where you cannot engage with this blog cordially, please refrain from interacting rather than causing a fuss. 🙏🏻

Things to Know:

Beta readers are always welcome! Please DM me or my main blog @dirt-apple-productions if you are at least 16 years old, have a strong grasp of English grammar, and sympathize with what I’m trying to accomplish with this series.

You may send asks, but be nice or I will delete your message. You can ask questions of any of the characters (I love roleplaying!) or of me as the author. I will reblog ask games every so often, so please feel free to engage with them!

I accept fanart submissions! Just submit them as a post and I will insert them into the Wattpad version of the story with credit to you. Nothing R-rated, please - no graphic violence, sexual content, or suicidal imagery.

I have other socials! Please take a look at my Instagram and Discord server as well.

The Latest Alura Announcement

And now, without further ado, here are the linkies! If the link doesn’t exist, it means the book has not been published yet, but it will be eventually.

Novel Editions:

THE ALURA TRILOGY: AO3 EDITION

THE ALURA TRILOGY: WATTPAD EDITION

THE ALURA TRILOGY: FANFICTION.NET EDITION

Alura || Starwalker || Sage || Failsafe || Seraphite

Starwalker is in the process of being crossposted to AO3 and Fanfiction.net, and updates on Sundays around 8:00 am CST.

Graphic Novel Editions (Coming Soon!)

Tumblr || Alura • Starwalker • Sage • Failsafe • Seraphite

Instagram || Alura • Starwalker • Sage • Failsafe • Seraphite

Facebook || Alura • Starwalker • Sage • Failsafe • Seraphite

Threads || Alura • Starwalker • Sage • Failsafe • Seraphite

Pinterest || Alura • Starwalker • Sage • Failsafe • Seraphite

Xitter || Alura • Starwalker • Sage • Failsafe • Seraphite

Bluesky || Alura • Starwalker • Sage • Failsafe • Seraphite

Deviantart || Alura • Starwalker • Sage • Failsafe • Seraphite

Wattpad || Alura • Starwalker • Sage • Failsafe • Seraphite

AO3 || Alura • Starwalker • Sage • Failsafe • Seraphite

[commander-sparklebomb]

Could you do a shadow weaver (or light spinner) x a shy fem s/o?

“Ugh, who shelved these?” you grumble to yourself as you glare at a group of scrolls. They’re not just out of order—they’re in complete disarray. You snatch the misplaced scrolls and continue grumbling, your irritation growing with each one you find.

“Transmutation…divination…abjuration? Oh, if I ever find who put these back like this I’ll—”

As you turn around, your arms full of scrolls, you come face to face with Light Spinner and let out a startled yelp. A few of the scrolls tumble from your arms. Light Spinner picks them up and puts them back into place, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Something troubling you, darling?” she says. Heat rushes to your face and neck.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” you ask.

“Long enough to hear your quite frankly adorable griping.”

Your blush darkens. “L-Light Spinner…”

“My apologies,” she chuckles. “You make it far too easy to tease you.”

“You can make it up to me by helping me put these scrolls away.”

“If it means spending more time with my favorite girl, then I’d be happy to.”

You hide your face in the pile of scrolls in your arms while Light Spinner chuckles.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter One

Masterlist

Reader insert Pierre Gasly fic! Chapter two is where things get nsfw ;) Also on AO3 as @wingsofanillyrian Story beta read and codeveloped by @acollectionofficsandshit​

Word Count: 2.9k

Recommended song: "Pierre" by Ryn Weaver

Pierre wore his best sweater to grab drinks with you. He must have packed it with tonight in mind; he didn't have any other reason to be wearing anything that wasn't loaded with Alpha Tauri logos on a race weekend. He picked it out for you, and only for you.

For some reason, that was the first thought you had as he walked into the dim London bar, eyes scanning the packed tables for you. You had purposely chosen one at the back, giving you some semblance of privacy in hopes of avoiding any prying eyes. You only got to see Pierre a handful of times a year, and you didn't want too many adoring fans interrupting the few precious hours you had. Spotting you, he waved off the woman that had approached him and walked over.

You wouldn't dream of looking away from his dazzling smile that felt like home as he strode toward you. The dim blueish lighting cast shadows on his features, but you couldn't miss the joy lining his face. Your chest swelled, a toothy smile breaking across your face as you waved.

God, Pierre was gorgeous. He may have been your best friend, but the way he filled out the stone gray sweater had you wishing you were so much more.

"Damn, does it feel good to see you," He says, kissing your cheek before taking the seat across from you. "How have you been? Do you miss France yet?"

You are eternally grateful for the low lighting so he can't see just how much the easy, friendly gesture affects you. You laugh off the tingling feeling left in the wake of his lips, sliding the drink you had ordered on his behalf across the table. Whiskey on the rocks, his favorite after a long flight. "I've been doing fine, better now that my best friend is finally here."

You had met Pierre by chance during the French grand prix a few years ago. You'd never really been interested in Formula 1, but your dad had insisted you and your brother use the VIP tickets he'd won in a raffle. Though the track in Le Castellete was only an hour or so from your hometown, you'd never visited. A once in a lifetime sibling bonding experience, your dad called it, even though you knew nothing about the sport. You knew the real reason was so your dad didn't have to endure your brother babbling about statistics the whole weekend, but you didn't mind. At least you got to experience something new.

At one point, you had stopped to tie your shoe and your brother had been too busy hunting down a passing driver to realize you'd stopped. By the time you stood, he was nowhere to be seen and wouldn't answer his phone. You walked dumbly around the paddock for a few minutes before Pierre found you, helping you gain your bearings and staying by your side until you finally reunited with your brother.

Pierre appreciated that you didn't fawn over him like everyone else. After all, you'd had no idea who he was. For all you knew, he was just another fan of the sport. You had thought him gorgeous the moment you laid eyes on him, sure, but you'd had no idea who he was. You'd exchanged numbers that day, thinking nothing of it. It wasn't until his face flashed on the jumbo screen on Sunday that recognition clicked.

You texted him after the race, apologizing for not recognizing him. He'd insisted he had found your utter lack of knowledge refreshing, and invited you and your brother to visit with the team that night.

After that, the two of you became fast friends. You'd visited him on various race weekends over the past few years, and he always made a point to grab dinner with you when he was in town. This year, instead of meeting after the French Grand Prix where you'd met, you agreed to grab drinks the Thursday before he raced at Silverstone.

"How has the transition to London been? Uni going good?" He rattled off questions, trying to fit as much as possible in the little time you had.

"Studying abroad hasn't been so bad," You tell him, taking a sip of your drink. "I've made plenty of friends in my major, so we study together for any complicated lessons. My only complaint is that the weather could be better. But it gets me away from my nosy brother, at the very least."

Pierre grins, nodding in agreement. "He really wants us to get together, doesn't he?"

Eyes rolling, you cross your arms. "I keep telling him it won't happen, but he just can't stop plotting."

Your brother loved the idea of you dating his favorite driver, and didn't shy away from letting either of you know it. You had to admit, you didn't disagree with him, but it would never happen. Pierre was your friend because you didn't go crazy over him. Harboring feelings for him was completely out of the question, and yet… 

"Right," He says with a belated chuckle. "Us together. That's crazy." Pierre stares down at the short glass he holds in three fingers. He swirls the caramel liquid, completely lost in thought. The noise of the bar rises and falls with the music, and you lean a little closer to him.

"Hey," You say quietly, brushing your fingers over the back of his hand, "You alright?"

"Yeah," He says quickly. "Nervous about the weekend, that's all." You knew it was a lie, but you let it slide, trying humor instead.

"What, you mean when you take pole at the most legendary track on the calendar and lead the entire race to ultimately take home a P1 finish?"

The way his eyes crinkled with his small smile made your heart stutter. He was beautiful, whether dressed in a white Alpha Tauri race suit or in the feather soft sweater that you couldn't stop imagining laying in a heap on your apartment floor. The scene played in your mind: his hands under your red dress, hungry and searching. Fingers finding the wetness between your thighs as he-

"How do you always know exactly what to say to bring me back?" 

You blink, the fantasy dissolving like the ice in your drinks. Your answer is automatic. "Because I know you." 

He tips his head to the side, eyes narrowing in challenge. "Do you?"

"Of course I do." He scoffs, and you cross your arms defensively. "Really? I know everything there is to know. Like how you keep that laminated four leaf clover in your wallet cause its been with you for every race, and the one time you left it behind you crashed out on lap one. I know you'd rather suntan on a beach in Monaco than train in the off season, but you do it anyway. And most importantly, I know that you can't go out on track without first listening to the playlist that I curated two years ago for that specific purpose."

"While all of that is true, it's all racing related."

Your brows knit together. "So?" Racing was really what his life revolved around. He didn't have time for much else. It made sense that you knew the most about that side of him.

"I bet there's one important thing that you don't know about me, off track." Pierre's lips twitch upward, yours following suit. You'd play along with his little game, if only because it had managed to chase away the shadows that had clouded his eyes.

"Oh? What's that?"

"How absolutely wild I am about you."

A beat of silence passes before you let out a dumb giggle. You can't stop it as it morphs into a full blown fit of laughter, complete with you clutching your splitting sides.

"Shit, Pierre, you're hilarious. That's a good one." You wipe the tear from your eye, taking another long sip of your drink in an attempt to drown the wanting. It was cruel to tease you like that, but he wouldn't know. You'd spent the past six months silently nursing your hopeless crush on him, keeping it carefully hidden.

Belatedly, you realize he hasn't said a word. That same damned smirk plays on his plush lips as he watches you intently, waiting for you to put the pieces together.

"You aren't serious."

He leans back, his casual posture completely at odds with your racing pulse. "What if I was?"

You fiddle with the charm of your necklace, letting his words sink in. If he wasn't kidding, it meant he had just laid himself bare before you. Pierre was a private person, always held his cards close to his chest. For him to brazenly show you his hand in such a nonchalant way was something you never expected.

"I would say…" You swallow thickly, nerves turning the words to lead. What if everything changed once you admitted it? You couldn't stand to lose him, not when your world had changed the moment you met him. The pain of it would be too much to bear. 

Drink forgotten, Pierre's warm hand covers yours reassuringly. You know he can read the emotion on your face; you were an open book to him. Voice firm, he urges, "Say it."

You inhale shakily, slowly bring your eyes up to his. God, you could get lost in those oceans of blue so easily. You wanted to get lost in him, memorizing every landmark of him along the way. Gathering your courage, you decide to take the leap, praying he'll catch you.

"I would say that you aren't the only one that feels that way."

With reflexes you could never match, Pierre is leaning across the tiny round table and crashing his lips to yours. It takes you a moment to realize what's happening before you sink into him, your hand gripping his forearm as his cups your cheek. The first brush of his tongue against your lower lip is a bolt of pure ecstasy, propelling you off the sticky bar stool until you're standing right in front of him, your lips never leaving his.

His knees slide apart, allowing you to fit yourself against him. Neither of you could care less that you were making out so publicly, where anyone could snap a photo and send it to the media. Your head was all him, the pure bliss of exploring each other's mouths for the first time. No matter how often you'd dreamed of this moment, it could never live up to the real thing. 

One deft hand winds its way under the short hem of your dress, callouses scraping over your touch-starved skin before settling beneath the curve of your ass.

The worst part was you knew it wouldn't last long; he had a race this weekend and on Monday he would be off to the next destination. The thought of him leaving so soon filled you with a sense of urgency that you couldn't ignore. You had to make this night count; it might be the only one you had for months. 

"Please let me get you out of here," He murmurs some time later. Your only answer is to nip at his swollen lip, savoring the way his breath hitches when you do so. You were dizzy with desire, months of pent up passion finally released.

"Call us an Uber, just let me keep kissing you until it gets here." You settle for leaving wet kisses along his jaw while he quickly pulls out his phone to fulfill your request. One arm winds around your waist, keeping you pressed to him while his attention is split.

"Fuck," He whispers when you tug his earlobe between your teeth, utterly unable to contain yourself. His phone clatters to the table, his hand flying to your side. "Cut it out before I take this too far."

You pay his warning no heed, instead repeating the action. "Maybe I want you to take it too far."

His head falls back as your lips trace along the plane of his jaw. "Mercy," He pleads, but makes no move to stop you as you slide a hand up his thigh. His arousal already evident after only a few sly touches and a handful of minutes of your lips on his body.

"Scratch the Uber," You breathe, finally pulling back to grant him a moment's clemency. "Bathrooms here are big enough for two."

Blue irises are swallowed by black, his pupils blowing wide. "I refuse to fuck you for the first time in a dirty public bathroom where I can't properly worship you."

That same dominance he exerts over the race track seeps into his voice, making your stomach flip. Eyes hungry, he continues, "I've been dreaming of this for over a year. You live in every corner of my mind, all hours of the day. I've had plenty of time to contemplate how I want to take you. Soft and slow, getting to know every curve, or hard and fast, bent over the car in the garage on a race weekend. Of how relentlessly I'll fuck you once I finally get the chance."

You have to clench your knees together to keep from shaking. "And which have you decided?"

"Oh, I'm going to take my time with you, sweet girl. I'll have plenty of time to make you beg later."

The promise makes you shiver, heat flooding through you. "Are you going to be in trouble for staying with me tonight?" Because the way he was talking, no way in hell were you letting him out of your sight before absolutely necessary.

"I can't stay more than a few hours." For the first time since your admission he pauses, that raging inferno dimming to dull embers in seconds.

You pull back at his hesitation, scanning his face. "So leave early. I don't mind." As long as you got him to bed, you didn't care. You'd have plenty of time in the future, as he already pointed out. Your lips found his again, desperate for him to return your fervor.

"Wait."

You stop immediately, untangling yourself from him and taking a step back. You didn't want to push to far and ruin this moment, this perfect fucking moment. Desire warred with concern, his mouth twisting. Your heart sunk; he was already second guessing this.

"Talk to me," you say softly, barely audible over the noise of the bar. When he stays silent, you take his hand, rubbing your thumb over the back of it.

When he finally speaks, his voice is softer than you've ever heard it. "I feel like I'm forcing you into something you won't like."

"What?" Confused, you shake your head. "I want you-"

"Yeah, but do you really want this?" He asks, gesturing around the bar, the eyes watching you. "I can't promise you privacy, and I can't be here with you for three quarters of the year. Even in the off season I'll likely be in Austria most of the time, fine tuning the car and posing for cameras."

You open your mouth to protest, but he reads your mind. "And I don't want you missing uni for me, either."

You nod, sensing he wasn't done. You let him ponder how to phrase whatever it is that's on his mind, comforting him with your simple touch.

"I don't want you to feel like you're on the back burner in my life. You deserve better than that. If I could give you the moon, I would. But…" He pauses again, properly threading his fingers through yours and finally meeting your eyes. "I can only offer you my heart and pray that you'll take it."

"I'll guard it," You promise him, gently squeezing his hand. "I'll take whatever you can give me and I will be glad for it, Pierre. Being a driver is what makes you you, and I wouldn't dream of asking you to change that." You lean in, pressing your lips to the worried crease of his brows. "I want you. Any part you'll let me have."

"And besides," You add, glancing around you and trying to coax a smile from him, "Do you think my priority is privacy?"

"I've seen how you shy away from cameras when you're in the paddock," He says softly. You chew your lip. Sometimes he knew you too well. True, you didn't like being photographed with him, but only because you didn't want rumors swirling. He didn't want people in his business and you respected that, going out of your way to obscure your face or outright hide from cameras when they were nearby.

But you would be proud to be seen with him. If he wanted you the way you wanted him, you wanted the world to know that you belonged to him, and vice versa.

"I…"

His phone lit up, a notification stating your Uber had arrived. The intrusion breaks the spell over both of you.

Pierre sighs and releases your hand. "Let's get you home."

Your eyes remained pinned to the spot between his shoulder blades as you wound through the crowd, fingers flexing at your sides. Crisp London air chilled you as you made your way to the suv parked at the curb. Pierre opened the door and wordlessly let you slip in first, refusing to look at you.

It would be a long ride home.

Tagging: @flashcal

[smitten-for-shera]

I'm gay for the gays

Hello She Ra Princess of Power fans I'm a new imagines blog. Send me requests lovelies~

Rules:

This is an X reader blog. I will only be doing X readers or an insert in a given situation. I do not write for cannon X cannon charcters sorry. I also do not do o.c's. But I do RP if you message me! :D

Smut or NSFW is not welcome here, thankyou. However I will do suggestive content or imply that they had consensual sex. No rape or sexual assault asks please. Will do some gore as it is set in a world at war but nothing to gross.

I will do Imagines, Headcannons, A.U's, Scenarios, and occasionally matchups!

Yandere is awesome! As long as the character in question does not die or get to beaten up than yanderes are fun to write for.

LGBTQ+ stand at arms your very welcome here and whatever you please I'll try and do. Please send me your gay or poly desires

Characters I write for,

Good Guys

Princess Glimmer

Adora/ She Ra

Bo

Casta

Princess Mermista

Princess Perfuma

Princess Entrapa

Bad Guys

Catra

Scorpia

Shadow Weaver

Hordak

[monstersandmaw]

You can now support me over on Patreon from as little as $1 a month!

Click the ‘read more’ to see the tiers and rewards, which include access to the poll to have a say in what I write next, early access to Tumblr stories, exclusive Patreon-only stories, stories just for you, and also access to previews of my fantasy novel, Weaver of Threads. This is the story of a young swordsman and a young mage from two different backgrounds, travelling the world in search of ancient magic and history, and maybe falling in love along the way...

Ok, the tiers are as follows!

$1 - Shadows

access to the Patreon-only news feed

access to some blog posts about writing and things going on in the workshop

and my undying gratitude!

 $5 - Pixies and Goblins

at least one Patreon-exclusive monster story per month

early access for all Tumblr monster stories

the ‘what’s next?’ poll to help Ghosti decide what monster story to write next!

$10 - Elves

work in progress chapters and previews from both my monster stories and my original fantasy fiction ‘Weaver of Threads’

regular blog posts about writing and workshop goings-on

a small discount on writing commissions, and priority placement in the commissions queue

$20 - Orcs

access to posts about my original fantasy fiction Weaver of Threads (world building, magic, rune systems, character profiles etc.)

A short story (maximum 1500 words) with a monster and reader of your choice

A PDF version of any monster story I’ve written and published on Patreon or Tumblr

Discounts on writing commissions

$50 - Dragons

One 3000 word story of your choosing will be written for you (no fanfiction) as a thank you for your patronage

Work in progress chapters and previews from Weaver of Threads

A character with a name of your choosing (upon approval!) will be added to a monster story

Priority on jewellery and metalwork commissions

 $100 - Mega Kaiju

One 7000 word story of your choosing will be written for you (no fanfiction) as a thank you for your patronage

One hand written letter of thanks (I have nice handwriting, don’t worry!) sent to you by post, including a short story.

Discount on jewellery and metalwork commissions

Dedication by name in any published work (let me know if you wish to remain anonymous)

If you’re unable to commit, you can still support me with a one-off donation over on Ko-fi (don’t forget to tell me your favourite monster and you’ll get a reader insert (sfw/nsfw) story on here in thanks!). You can also help me by sharing this post, and by reblogging my stories on here! 

Thank you, Ghosti! 

[royalydamned-archive]

FANDOMS I WRITE FOR

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

(I'm willing to do most characters for reader inserts, some for ships, depending on which)

DC

(Depending on the character(s))

HARRY POTTER

(Very hesitantly)

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

(Not Five)

SUPERNATURAL

(I won't be accepting requests for Jack, Claire, Maya, Alex or Patience)

GAME OF THRONES

(I will be answering asks with whether I am or am not willing to do the requested character(s))

NOW YOU SEE ME

(I will do all characters, but my favorites will done quicker because I'm biased)

SHERLOCK BBC

(Mycroft I'm doing 100%, other characters will depend whether I'm feeling it at the given moment. No ships)

OTHER CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR BUT ARE THE ONLY ONES IN THE GIVEN FANDOM

Shadow Weaver (She-Ra and the princesses of power)

Michael & Maze (Lucifer)

Eda & Lilith Clawthorne (The Owl House)

[commander-sparklebomb]

HEY PERSON I DON’T KNOW HOW ABOUT SOMETHING FOR SHADOW WEAVER

“Do it again.”

With a deep breath, you draw a circle in the air with the tip of your index finger, softly glowing yellow light appearing in its wake. You trace symbols into the circle, completing the spell, and a caterpillar made of the same yellow light appears, crawling on the surface of the Black Garnet. You make a complicated motion with your hands, and the caterpillar weaves a cocoon around itself.

“Good,” Shadow Weaver says approvingly. “Don’t stop now.”

You nod, concentrating too hard to speak. After another gesture with your hands, the cocoon explodes into a shower of sparks. A butterfly emerges in its place and flies around the room before evaporating. You turn to Shadow Weaver for approval.

“Very good, my pet,” Shadow Weaver croons, stroking your cheek. “You’ve improved since our last lesson.”

You lean into her cold touch, sighing as your eyes slide closed and you nuzzle into her palm. Her sharp fingernails bite into the sensitive skin of your cheek, but you welcome the sensation.

“Do I deserve a reward?” you murmur.

Shadow Weaver chuckles, low . “I believe you do.”

You close your eyes again as she removes her mask and sigh through your nose when you feel her icy lips on your own.