#this is all you get tonight. i cannot get to any more asks or else my head explodes. mwah

[mychlapci]

mhmm. pregnant transformers. many pregnant transformers. in one bed. making out. waiting for the sire of their babies to come and fuck them. hrgghgh

[vrystalius]

Yearning and crushing.

What do they act like when they are utterly in love and yearning for you?

Pairing: Astarion, Gale, Zevlor, Rolan, x gn!Tav!reader

Summary: During the early stages of your misadventure, he cannot help himself but never stop yearning for you.

Genre: Fluff, lime (does anyone use lime and lemons anymore?)

Words: 2.3k

Note: I’m hosting a small event over at my blog. Check it out if you’re interested <3 I’m choosing four participating users at random to receive a personalised letter from their fav char<33 All of this is happening in act 1 btw.

Astarion Ancunín // The Pale Elf

Yearning scale: 8/10

He denied himself the pleasure of thinking about you in a romantic way other than to use you to get protection, power and a willing source of absolutely delicious blood. Really falling for you would be very stupid and have no benefit, really. Astarion never viewed himself as someone who deserved love, especially yours.

But during every battle Astarion’s concentration began to waver more and more. His eyes scan the area in panic until he finally spots you somewhere, being very occupied by trying to finish off the gnoll growling at you. He knows you’re capable defending yourself and finishing off some enemies and it is a delight to watch you fight, but that caused him to miss more and more, with both daggers and his crossbow.

You notice how his whole face lights up whenever you saunter over to him to do some small talk after a long day. His eyes look much softer and his smile becomes less guarded, less planned. It was adorable but you never mentioned it to him, or else you might never see that off-guard smile again.

At first you were adorned by Astarion and showered in flirts and compliments to love-bomb you and bind you to him, something he has done wo many countless times, but slowly he feels himself regretting playing up his flirtatious persona. He thinks you might not like him anymore when he stops with the over-the-top flirts, the nightly trysts and most importantly, the sex.

But deep down he was hoping and praying you’ll still like him for him.

Slowly, Astarion will insist on staying close with you no matter what. The group splits up to explore a cave efficiently? He is definitely sticking by your side. You’re heading to the Emerald Grove to stock on some food for tonight? Don’t mind him tagging along, he just needs a couple of healing potions. You’re injured and need healing? Out of the way Shadowheart, he got this with some alcohol and bandages.

“I’m sure you wont mind taking me with you to that grove again, I wanted to talk to that Tiefling by the forge. I’m thinking about asking very nicely to have a little taste of his blood… But I won’t if you get jealous easily, my darling.”

Astarion quietly yearns for you. He knows how to (mostly) control himself and his tongue around you to not accidentally start coughing up the butterflies terrorising his stomach by praising, flirting, teasing you, doing everything to try and make you like him by any means, even if he has to play a persona.

He has to let out this pent up love for you somewhere, so in the evenings he’ll retreat and quietly stich up his clothes that were torn during the day, check his daggers for sharpness but then also open up the hidden notebook he stashed away under his pillow and sketch a little. Mostly you, really, in all kinds of poses and situations.

He never sexualised you in any way, simply sketching you in almost domestic situations from his view; the way your face lights up in delight when Scratch brings you another drool-drenched sandal, your face scrunched together in disgust after tasting one of Auntie Ethel’s mold pies on accident or you just relaxing after a hard day. Astarion quietly admired you from his tent as his pen works against the paper. He’s not really talented in it but it’s a nice way to unwind. He is praying though that the dog never gets the bright idea to steal his notebook and drop it into your lap or he will beg Shadowheart to cast moonbeam and incinerate him.

Gale Dekarios // The Wizard of Waterdeep

Yearning scale: The ultimate yearner ™/10

Let’s be honest, Gale is not very subtle with his yearning although the wizard thinks he is being very smooth with it.

Before having the moment with you in the weave where your minds interlinked, where you imagined kissing him, first carefully, then passionately and with vigour so shamelessly while he stands there rooted in place, trying not to explode (literally), Gale has been dreamily watching you.

He wasn’t even sure why he fell in love with you or how exactly it happened, Gale had a dream about you with him in his wizard tower in Waterdeep, not exactly using his desk the way it is intended to be used. He woke up with the orb flickering in his chest and a all too familiar warmth spreading through his lower abdomen.

With every artefact you sacrifice to him and with every minute you listen to his boasting and rambling, Gale stopped fighting the feelings that were growing inside him every day and accepted that yes, he did just fall in love with the stranger that pulled him through a portal, fed him boots without hesitating and never seriously judged him for his poor decisions. He hasn’t met anyone besides Tara that was very judging.

He can’t act on his feelings yet, though. Gale can’t even let his mind slip for a moment and let the sweet, sweet thought of your lips pressed against his, your tongues dancing with each other, his hands feeling up your waist to pull you closer and closer as if trying to absorb you. He gets ripped out of these fantasies by a sharp pain in his chest and the all too familiar feeling of the orb becoming restless.

It physically hurts him to yearn for you. The orb is like a handcrafted punishment by his goddess Mystra, which it is, but not in the way she probably intended.

His way to painlessly express his admiration for you is mostly by talking; he rants and over-explains the littlest things that can sometimes accidentally come off as condescending, but you were always interested for whatever reason, even if he just listed all the different types of elementals and all the kinds he has met himself before.

But Gale also very openly expresses how highly he thinks of you. You always heard cheers like “A perfect hit!” or “You are doing absolutely amazing!” from the half dead and bloodied wizard that is surrounded by goblins but still thought about praising your skills. Sometimes his mouth worker faster than his brain and he’d accidentally compliment your very natural musk or point out how beautifully shiny your unwashed hair has gotten. It was probably meant to be a compliment.

Oh, it was starting to become a torture. Gale wakes up in the middle of the night after a blissful dream of strolling through the markets of Waterdeep together, playfully arguing who gets to cool what tonight, worrying about nothing other than to remember get Tara’s favourite treat. Rolling over in his bed he could feel his chest tighten, his hand instinctively gripping his nightshirt, trying to soothe the orb by touching it. He tried to take a deep breath, his fingers spreading out over his chest slowly.

His eyes fluttered shut and his lip quivered slightly as his other arm began to move to wrap around his own body. The wizard rolled over onto his side to stare at the tent wall, his own arms hugging himself, trying to make a fraction of his fantasies about you come true. But Gale would never allow to even properly think about asking to spend the night with him; it would be selfish to do so.

Zevlor // Leader of the Tieflings // Exiled Hellrider

Yearning scale: 6/10

It was probably wrong to feel the way he was feeling. You defended the grove and the refugees against goblins without questions and weren’t even disappointed about not getting a reward. You walked around and talked to the Tieflings, setting some dispute between three siblings, saved Arabella from the mad druid and offered to kill the goblin leaders for them.

Zevlor tried to push away the racing heart that seemed to flare up every time you showed more and more simple kindness for his people and others. He justified it to himself that the fluttery feeling in his chest and the warmth spreading embarrassingly fast on his face is just his gratitude manifesting in other ways, but during the small celebrating party you allowed to be held at your camp and after too many cups of vinegar for wine, it all dawned on him.

“Go, enjoy yourself. You’ve earned it. Don’t spend all your time on me, I’m sure many here would want to have a word with you instead.”

He admires your courage and selflessness, but his feelings reach far beyond that. To be able to share a cup with you was incredibly flattering but also a little selfish, he thought. You are quite popular in camp and Zevlor can’t deny the looks the other companions give you, so he tries to shoo you away and enjoy yourself. Having your attention all to himself, somewhere in private and in a situation that isn’t stressed by looming fights and threats would be an absolute dream.

A dream he didn’t allow himself to realise.

Besides, he’s an older, Hellrider-exiled Tiefling and an Oathbreaker Paladin with a group of refugee kin to look after and lead to Baldur’s Gate. Zevlor is barely able to love himself, how in the world are you supposed to be able to love him? Surely you deserve to be with someone more deserving of your love and devotion.

Even despite barely interacting with you, it was difficult for him to part from you and your troupe but there was a city for him to safely escort the refugees to. Duty calls and so does the road.

For now, Zevlor will just silently dream about you at night and think about your whereabouts during the day. He didn’t allow himself to get distracted too easily but during every small moment of respite his eyes would briefly close and his mind slowly travelled to you. He always wondered where you are right now, what you are doing. How far along have you come in your journey? Last he heard Halsin joined you on your quest for a cure against a tadpole.

He secretly wonders if you are still wearing the Hellrider Gloves he had given you as a thanks after redeeming Kagha and buying them more time to pack in the druid grove. It’s a childish thought but Zevlor really hoped that they serve you as well as they once served him and keep you safe. And maybe you think of him when you look at them.

For now, Zevlor has to focus on getting his caravan to Baldur’s Gate safely. The apparently cursed and so called “Shadow Lands” are the only way. Hopefully he can get them through in one piece.

Rolan // Wizard’s apprentice

Yearning scale: 8/10

Oh he has got a big, fat crush. Or at least that is what Cal and Lia have been teasing him about for the past days, hours and minutes. Ever since you stepped into the dispute the three had about whether they should leave the grove or not, Rolan has been more squishy and distracted.

He keeps seeing you around the grove, talking the Tieflings there and listening to what they have to say, trade with that druid merchant before heading over to Dammon to buy some new armour for you or your companions after the plates broke down. Rolan’s eyes would be scanning your whole body from the position he was standing, trying to see through your clothes and armour to check for injuries.

He knew you are an adventurer of some sort, talking to Ethel about something in your head and stocking up on a lot of healing potions. If not for you fighting through goblins Rolan would’ve used Thunderwave to send those scum to the afterlife. So he greatly appreciates your efforts and all it must take to finish them off.

His eyes would sparkle every time you even briefly passed him. You didn’t even had to look at him and he would feel his tail wagging embarrassingly fast behind himself as he tried to avoid his sibling’s knowing glances and how they 100% know what was going on.

Rolan doesn’t really understand himself and why his brilliant mind decided to choose you to pine on. You, someone he will leave behind and probably never see again. You, who only interacted with him a few fleeting times. You, with that heroic attitude and need to fix everything, you with that stupid smile you gave that woman Ethel, you simply existing. He felt childish for feeling like this.

He knew you’d make short work of the goblins and their leaders but his heart still managed to flutter in admiration after finding out what you managed to do. The wizard prepared his stupid party-trick spell until you got back to the grove, trying to cast the beautiful spell he had been casting since childhood over and over until it was perfect. Performing it in front of you asked for a bottle of wine or three to get some courage.

After bowing and getting some applause from you, Rolan’s eyes still stuck to you well after you gave your compliments and departed. He couldn’t help himself but feel jealous of that vampire in the corner, the purple wizard in the other and literally everyone else that breathed near you. Everyone wanted to have a piece of you— of course. You’re the hero of the party.

Rolan wanted to hog your time and attention to himself, though. He wants to sit down with you and for once just listen to you talk instead of him doing some boasting. It doesn’t matter what you were talking about, he wants to listen and watch your lips move, maybe fantasise about leaning in closer and sharing a kiss.

But alas, there’s an apprenticeship for him to attend in Baldur’s Gate. The road was calling and he had to move on with his travels. It doesn’t mean you left his mind though, every moment he did not spend checking up on Lia or Cal, getting into an argument with one of the kids or whatever, he spend daydreaming about you.

Maybe you’ll see each other again under better circumstances. He really hopes so.

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

I wanted to write a request I swear but my hands moved on their own and wrote something that has been on my brain for like a week or so :,) Forgive me lmao. I’ll be answering asks and requests soon tho!

Check out my personalised letters event <33

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33 You are loved.

[motorsportbarbie13]

Post It - Part 2 - LN4

when lando stumbles upon a random tiktok of a pretty american influencer, he can't stop himself from sliding into her DMs. what happens next is more than both of them ever bargained for.

Part 1 Master List

warnings: nothing heavy really. little talk about depression and therapy and too much partying but like, nothing traumatic. :) pairing: lando norris x influencer!reader word count: 3.9k (a note: if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know but please please let me know if you want on the general tag list of just this fics list. if you don't specify, i will just put you on this fics list!!)

“So, are we going to talk about what that was back there?” Hannah corners you the moment you arrive in the Red Bull garage just as Liam is hopping into the car for the first practice session of the weekend.

Your eyes drop to the floor, avoiding eye contact with her. “Can we just pretend you didn’t see anything?” 

Hannah laughs but you see the hurt that flashes in her eyes. ‘Um, no we cannot because you failed to tell me you’re talking to LANDO NORRIS.” 

“Shh! Hannah!” You hiss, swatting at her bare arm while looking wildly around, hoping that no one else in the garage is paying attention to your conversation. “I was talking to him. Was. There’s a big difference.” 

Hannah levels a glare at you, her brow quirking, “Then why did Lando look like he was a cat with a dish of warm milk when I saw him walk past just now? The only time I’ve ever seen that man that happy was when they won the Constructors last year.” 

You roll your eyes, of course he was strutting around the paddock after getting you to agree to go out with him tonight. That man had no poker face. “I said I’d go out to dinner with him tonight.” You sigh, shutting your eyes so you don’t have to see Hannah’s reaction. 

Your friends brows furrow, confusing clouding her features. “What? Back up, I think I missed a few chapters here. When I left you looked like you wanted to strangle him. And what about the blonde? Allie or something?” 

Frowning you cross your arms over your chest as you turn towards the tv screens in the garage. The camera was fixed directly on the papaya colored McLaren 2 garages down. When it cuts to Lando pulling on his balaclava, you avert your eyes. You can’t escape him today, can you? 

“He says he can explain.”

Hannah snorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure he can.” 

You can’t help the laugh that starts in the back of your throat, shaking your head. “That’s quite literally exactly what I said.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were talking to him?” Your friend asks, her voice soft. 

“I don’t know.” You admit, cheeks burning with shame. “It just…happened. And then it stopped. And then, well, here we are.” 

Guilt sits heavy in your belly when you chance a glance at your friend. She doesn’t look hurt anymore, just confused and a touch of something else. Something deeper that you know probably feels a bit like betrayal. Hannah had been one of your first influencer friends you made when this life kind of fell into your lap. She was kind and not superficial like a lot of the other girls in your world could be. Your friendship with her felt genuine and you knew she felt the same way.

“Here we are.” Hannah echos, skepticism dripping from her words. “The only place in the entire world where you knew exactly where he’d be. Is that why you agreed to come on the trip with me? For him?” 

You turn to her then, everything clicking all at once.Your face goes pale with horror. “Hannah! No!” You gasp, ignoring the few heads that swivel in your direction “Oh my God, Hannah. I swear I did not accept your invitation with any other intent beyond hanging out with you. I swear."  

Hannah looks away then, cheeks flaming like yours were earlier. Your eyes flutter close and you reach out to pull your friend into a hug. “I mean, what am I supposed to think?” She whispers. 

Tugging on her hand you pull her into a corner of the garage where it’s a bit quieter. “I swear to you, H that’s not even remotely true. I honestly almost turned down the whole trip because I didn’t want to see him.” 

Hannah blinks away the watery tears that you knew had been threatening to spill. “Yeah?” 

You nod earnestly, “Yes, please believe me. I wanted to come with you more than I didn’t want to see him. I thought maybe I could just avoid him the whole weekend. Please, don’t think that I was using you to get closer to him.” 

Hannah knows you well enough to be able to read you pretty easily. She regards you for a few moments before nodding. “Okay, fine.” 

Relief washes over you. “You believe me?” 

Hannah shrugs, “You genuinely did look like you wanted to strangle him back there for a few minutes so…” 

You snort, rolling your eyes. “How many people in this paddock and I had to be saved by a boy wearing bright orange.” 

“It’s papaya.” Hannah corrects, earning a swat on her shoulder from you. 

“I hate you.” You shoot back but it’s useless and you both end up dissolving into a fit of giggles, once again pulling several glances in your direction, including the glare of Christian Horner himself who looks like he’s about to toss you both out of the garage any moment. 

Both of you immediately stop laughing seeing the eyes of the Red Bull boss on you, chuckles continuing under your breath. You’re both quiet for several minutes, watching as the tv screens show Liam rounding one of the corners followed closely by Max in the other Red Bull car. 

Hannah is the first to break the silence. “This whole thing is a bit…messy, don’t you think?” 

“I know!” You groan, dragging the palms of your hands over your face. “But he wants to explain and…” You pause, giving Hannah a sidelong glance as she waits for you to continue. “I kinda want to hear what he has to say?” 

Hannah levels a glare at you and you can almost feel the way she wants to roll her eyes at you. “That’s fine, but please don’t let him explain his way into your bed tonight.” 

“Hannah!” You gasp before you both dissolve into peals of giggles, much to Christian Horner’s dismay. 

celeb.influencer.gossip posted

celeb.influencer.gossip out favorite american influencer @/yourusername was spotted in China today at the start of the F1 race weekend. While she arrived with Liam Lawson's girlfriend Hannah St. John, a few eagle eyed fans caught her talking to (and hugging) McLaren driver Lando Norris. According to a source, two looked a little...awkward at first but by the time they parted, they looked a little more...friendly. user9198 her and lando would make such a cute couple tho >>>user200 he has a girlfriend tho??? or am i making this up??? >>>user222 allegra? nah, she only hangs around for the clout. L always looks miserable around her user111 shes so pretty >>>user222 FR

Candles flicker, soft and golden, in the low light of cozy hotel restaurant later that night, casting moody shadows across the entire space. From his spot at a corner table, tucked strategically away from the bustle of the rest of the restaurant, Lando watches you approach as the hostess leads you towards him. He had spotted you the moment you walked up to the hostess stand, your hair tumbling down around your shoulders in loose waves, knee high boots clicking against the wide planked mahogany flooring, tiny black sweater dress hugging every curve so dangerously you should probably be arrested. 

The restaurant you’re meeting him in tonight is the one directly next to the lobby of the hotel several of the teams are staying at this weekend for the race. As a result, it’s a bit busy with teams getting their dinner before heading up for an early night in preparation for tomorrow’s main race. Lando had requested a quiet table near the back tonight though, not wanting this important conversation he knew needed to happen interrupted by anyone. The restaurant itself was dimly lit, tables draped in creamy white linen with candles providing the main source of light. Flecks of gold dotted the black marble walls that absorbed most of the harsh light filtering in from the lobby just outside. 

The moment your gazes connect, Lando’s mouth goes dry at the smile that hitches up at the corner of your lips, painted a deep scarlet shade tonight. You struggle not to drop your eyes to the ground under his intense scrutiny, somehow managing to maintain eye contact with him. The look he’s giving you though borders on predatory, like he’s already planning how slowly he can consume you tonight. 

Your stomach flips delightfully at the way he smiles at you when you get closer. When he stands you can see he’s wearing a sinfully well tailored suit, clearly intent on impressing you tonight. 

He doesn’t hesitate to reach out and take you in his arms the moment you’re close enough, the hostess making a polite retreat without another word. The warmth of Lando’s body settles over you like a heated blanket and you melt into him without really even meaning to. It seems as though you’re powerless against anything once he touches you. 

“You came.” 

Lando holds your chair out for you, encouraging you to sit before he rounds the table to sit himself. You grin, taking a quick sip of water, hoping to beat the parched throat you’re suddenly dealing with. The way Lando’s eyes appear darker than you’ve ever seen them in the low light of the flickering candles has butterflies waking up in your belly. 

“Of course I came. I told you I would, didn’t I?” You look at him, eyes narrowed a bit. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Lando looked a little nervous, anxious almost. It was a far cry from the man you knew from your hours long FaceTime dates a few months ago. His shoulders were hitched up a bit and you could tell he was a bit tense. Something in you wanted to do anything you could to sooth the little crinkles between his eyes that felt like they were a result of some deep rooted anxiety. 

Lando rakes his fingers through his curls, desperately trying to get a hold of his nerves. The way you looked tonight, the way you smiled at him like he hadn’t nearly fumbled what had started back in February with you both, the way you had actually showed up to hear him out. It was all a little too much for him to wrap his mind around. 

He clears his throat, thankful for the bottle of wine he had ordered the moment he sat down. He pours you a glass, relieved when you don’t tell him you prefer something else. 

“Congratulations on getting pole today.” You say before lifting your wine glass to your lips. The rich notes of cherries and something earthy explode across your tongue as you take a deep sip of the red wine Lando had just poured in your glass. 

Lando’s blush deepens, his eyes dropping from yours down to the linen napkin in his lap. He scrubs at the back of his neck. “Thanks, we’re pretty locked in this weekend.” 

“Fastest practice laps and pole for the sprint race? Sounds like it.” 

Lando nods, “The car is good this year.” 

“That’s what they say.” You murmur, taking another sip of wine. 

Silence stretches between you after that, both of you knowing there are things that need to be addressed. Lando doesn’t want to talk about Allegra now and you’re not entirely sure you’re ready to hear the story, not ready to believe what he’s got to tell you. Both of you know it needs to get out in the open though if you have any chance at getting past this and giving your undeniable chemistry that sparks just beneath the surface any chance of growing into something more. 

“So…” You start, swirling the crimson liquid around in the large wine glass. “You said you could explain.” 

Lando clears his throat before taking a drink of his water. He knows he’s going to need a clear mind to walk through what a disaster his life had turned into over the last year. 

He inhales deeply, steadying his nerves and preparing for the worst.

“After my last breakup, I went off the deep end a little.” He begins, his memory flickering back to the countless nights spent drinking the pain of the breakup away the best he could. There had been countless photos and videos of him absolutely obliterated online during the offseason two years ago. 

You sit quietly, allowing him to take the time he needs. You can tell from the way he sits forward slightly, body angled towards you, that he’s struggling with something. You’ve seen that anxious body language reflected in your own mirror countless times. 

“I was getting a lot of negative press coverage and McLaren was getting concerned. My image, my brand, everything took a big hit. I struggled at the beginning of last season and the press chalked it up to my partying. They weren’t wrong, but there was more going on.” 

“I’m sorry, Lando.” You say, your fingers itching to reach out and touch him. 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be. I was being self destructive and it was costing the team. Zak called me into his office one day and told me he expected me to my shit together or else he was going to terminate my contract.” 

Your eyes go wide. The implications of what Lando says are huge. You don’t know a ton about Formula 1 but you do know that Lando is good at what he does and for Zak to threaten to fire him when he was one of the best drivers they’d had in years was a big deal. 

Lando shrugs. “I deserved it.” He says, reading your expression perfectly. “So I hired a PR manager that worked independently from McLaren. At first it was great, I just listed to whatever he said and did what I was told. I stopped going out and drinking, focused more on work, got therapy.” 

“That’s great, Lan.” 

He nods, pausing to look up at the waitress that had come over to take your order. For a brief moment, the story stops and you take the chance to digest what he’s told you so far. You’re not sure how he got from working on his image and life to…Allie but you still wanted to hear the whole story. 

When the waitress leaves you alone once again, Lando pops a piece of bread in his mouth, buying himself some more time. He’s never told anyone the entire story before. Not in the way he’s about to tell you. Not even Max F knew all of the details. 

“It was for a while. Then my image started to recover and I won Miami and Zandvoort. Rich, my PR manager, started to see that things were getting better and started coming up with other things to bring me more positive attention, saying that we had successfully recovered my image but it was time to take it to the next level.” 

You had a feeling this was where Allie was going to come into play. 

“So he introduced me to Allegra. Said being seen with a down to earth, pretty girl would do wonders for my image.”  

Ah, there is was. 

“Allegra? I thought her name was Allie.” 

Lando chuckles, “She insisted I call her Allie in private and in front of our friends. She uses Allegra professionally though.” You nod but stay quiet, encouraging him to go on. “Rich introduced us and wanted us to hang out. He had her go to some event I was hosting in London and then she suddenly ended up in Ibiza at the same time I was there with Max and some of the boys last summer.” 

You raise a brow, surprised at the tone Lando’s voice has taken on. Detached, almost resigned to the fact that his story isn’t something to be proud of. 

“People spotted us together and, as I’m sure you know, once social media got a hold of the story it kind of became this whole thing.” 

“But you never refuted it.” You say quietly, wondering why he had allowed it to go on for so long. “You kept going along with it.” 

Lando shrugs again. You weren’t wrong and he has spent a lot of time since you had ghosted him trying to figure out why he had just allowed the charade to continue for so long. “I liked the attention?” His cheeks go crimson at the confession. 

Your eyes soften at his words. “That’s not a bad thing, Lando.” You say. Losing the internally battle you’d been fighting since you sat down, you reach across the table to brush your fingertips over the back of his hand. His skin is warm, hands calloused from hours in his car. 

“She just kept coming to Monaco, wouldn’t even ask if I was free. I know it was Rich telling her to go, that being seen with me was as good for her as it was for me. And she was nice, for the most part. Once she was here and I accepted it, it was fine but then…” He drops the rest of the sentence, a small smile quirking up at the corner of his mouth. 

“But then?” Your heart hammers against your ribcage, fast as a sparrow. 

“That TikTok of yours popped up on my FYP the night of the livery launch and I was a goner.” He smiles at you, soft and tentative, trying to gauge your reaction of his confession. 

The frown that tugs at the corner of your mouth isn’t what he had been expecting. 

“But you didn’t end…whatever it was you were doing with her, Lando.” You say, frustration edging into your voice. “You continued to allow her to come to Monaco and were seen with her the day after we had one of our longer calls. I was mortified but so beyond happy I hadn’t told anyone about you. That’s why I ghosted you!” 

Lando scrubs his hands down his face, a soft groan escaping his lips. “I know, I know. I’m an idiot, okay? The lead up to this season has been insane. Did you know Drake bet $5 million dollars on my to win the Drivers Championship this year? Drake! I just…” He sighs, sensing that he’s losing this battle with you all of a sudden. “I just made a mistake, okay? I was scared and we were really hitting it off and then you stopped responding-” 

“Because I thought you had a girlfriend, Lando!” You say, heaving a sigh out of pure exasperation. 

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Lando leans forward, capturing your hand in his once again. You hate how good it feels, having him touch you. “I fucked up and the moment I figured it out I fired Rich and ended things with Allegra. I can show you the text messages if you don’t believe me.” 

You sigh again, shaking your head. “I believe you.” You murmur, voice soft. “I believe you but I don’t know if I can trust you, Lan.” 

His eyes go wide, an earnest look sitting there on his face. “Tell me what you need to trust me then, I’ll do whatever it takes. Those hours we spent on FaceTime together, the text conversations? Those were some of the best moments I’ve had in a really long time. You asked me to tell you everything and I did. Just…” Lando drops his head into his hands before letting out a small groan. “Just give me a second chance?” 

You don’t know what truly does it for you in the end. Maybe its the way he effortlessly explained everything that had happened before he met you, the way he looked so defeated when you argued with him, the way you’d been searching his face all evening for even a hint of anything but honesty and still found nothing. Maybe it was the way he had looked at you when you had first saw him from across the restaurant tonight, like you were the only person in the entire universe that even mattered. Maybe it was the fact that you wanted to believe him and deep down, you knew that you could trust him. 

Whatever it was though, whatever little bit of truth that came from Lando’s mouth had you nodding your head before you really understood what your body was doing. “No more lies. No more PR stunts” You start, smiling when Lando’s head whips up, eyes searching yours as if he’s trying to understand what you’re saying. “I will not be your dirty little secret, Lando. I won’t be another pretty girl spotted out with you but never discussed. I don’t want to be another ‘unconfirmed fling’."

For a moment, Lando doesn’t say anything. He just blinks at you like he can’t quite process what you’ve just said. “Anything.” He breathes after several beats. “There’s no way I could ever keep the fact that I bagged you a secret, baby.” You laugh, light and airy, sending a shiver of pleasure down Lando’s spine. His eyes darken slightly as he reaches across the table to tangle his fingers with yours. “No more lies, no more flings, nothing. I fumbled you once and I’m sure as fuck not going to make that same mistake again.” 

“Don’t make me regret giving you another chance, Norris.” 

If you hadn’t been in the middle of a very crowded restaurant, Lando would have gotten up form his chair and gotten on his knees in front of you. He didn’t care that he was being a total simp or that this was probably moving way too fast. If you two had even half the chemistry in real life as you had while you had been talking on the phone a few months ago, he knew this was going to be good. It was going to work. 

Lando looks at you, sly grin sliding across his face. You clock the change in his demeanor instantly. Narrowing your eyes, you tilt your head to the side. “What’s going on in that cute little head of yours.” 

“Watch the sprint from McLaren’s garage tomorrow.” 

The way he says it leaves no room for argument but you still find yourself laughing at the absurdity of it. “In my Red Bull gear?” You tease. 

Lando scoffs, signature cocky grin once again finding it’s way onto his tanned face. “No, you’d have to wear something papaya.” 

“Oh my God!” You exclaim, giggling at the look Lando shoots you. “You really do call it papaya instead of orange. I thought Hannah was fucking with me.” 

Mock outrage crosses his handsome features and you have to tamp down the urge to reach over and kiss him he looks so adorable. “What? No. We take our papaya very seriously at McLaren, thank you. Don’t mock the papaya!” 

“You’re insane.” You say though a fit of giggles, enjoying the way the air between you has shifted into something lighter, more flirty, for the first time that night. 

“Certified, my love.” He winks and you roll your eyes. “But, why were you talking to Hannah about me?” 

“I called you ‘the boy in orange’ and she corrected me, told me it was actually papaya and not orange.” 

Lando leans back in his chair, locking his fingers together behind the back of his head. “I knew I liked that girl.” 

He stares at you for a few moments as the waitress brings you your food. The second you’re alone again, he’s leaning forward again, capturing your hand in his once again. “So, is that a yes?” 

“People are going to talk.” You warn, singsonging the last word. 

He shrugs, “Let them talk.” 

This felt like a step in the right direction. You both knew that if you turned up in the McLaren garage, rumors would start to swirl, people would start to talk. The test would be to see what Lando would do when confronted with the rumors and you knew if you showed up in the garage tomorrow, someone would start asking questions sooner rather than later. 

You regard him over the rim of your wine glass for several moments before smirking. “Fine. Let them talk.” 

yourusername posted

988,001 likes liked by lando, hannahstjohn, yourbostonbff, and others yourusername up past my bedtime ;) hannahstjohn gorgeous girl >>>yourusername xo user0299 are we gonna talk about picture three tho??? >>>user382 uh yes hello? i'd like to report a crime. who is that??? lando cutie >>>user443 uhhhhh... >>>user0293 huh. that's...interesting, isn't it? user828 is it just me or does that third picture look a hell of a lot like lando... >>>user222 isn't he with that allegra chick tho??? user333 GOD i love a good 'soft launch' era >>>user928 fucking SAME bestie

f1.gossip.news posted

f1.gossip.news just a few hours after being seen interacting in the paddock with one another, Lando was spotted AGAIN with the same influencer @/yourusername. Here's what we know: she's american, lives in Boston, her channel was one of the most subscribed to channels on youtube in 2024 and has a degree in photography as well as international business. She has over 2 million followers on Instagram and over 4 million followers on TikTok. It looks like Lando follows her too! While this is the first time these two have been spotted together, it looks like they know each other quite well. What do we think, chat? Do we have a new WAG in the paddock? user0298 isn't he with that other girl...allegra? >>>user002 they've never confirmed that they were together. Lando has said he's been single for over 2 years. >>>user929 please be so fr. those two were at least fwb. she always looked way more into it than L. user2020 shes so cute! i've been watching her vlogs for YEARS. I was OBSESSED with her sorority house content when she was in college. >>>user0299 OMG SAMEEEEE. She's the most unproblematic person on the internet. I hope lando treats her well! user445 lando dating someone so wholesome??? is this what it looks like when your frontal lobe fully develops???

Tag List @shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164

[i-get-obsessed-fast]

ummm can i request jealous spencer? like reader has a boyfriend or spencer thinks she has a boyfriend and he gets all pouty. and then ... soft confession/kisses :)

feel free to ignore if it's not your cup of tea!

btw my criminal minds themed blog is @sweetheartspence !! but alas i cannot send asks from a side blog </3

thank u in advance! hope u have a wonderful day/night

Oh! This is definitely my cup of tea I love love love jealous Spencer 😋

BYR(b4 u Reid): Jealous & mean Spencer Reid :0, teasing, and a bit of fluff toward the end, along w a cute little kiss scene hehe

Jealousy | Spencer Reid

It had been a week. A week since Spencer started noticing the shift in your behavior.

You were… happier. Lighter. More willing to do things for your coworkers than before.

Staying late without complaint, grabbing an extra coffee for someone, taking an extra file without the usual dramatic sigh.

You used to roll your eyes when Morgan pawned off paperwork on you, now you just did it. No protest. No banter.

And then there were the little changes. The way you started painting your nails, the extra time you took with your makeup.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume someone was catching your attention, and truthfully he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hey.” He called, catching you before you could leave the bullpen. “There’s a movie playing tonight, it’s based in the fifties, and about a serial killer who’d eat his victims. It’s supposed to be really good. Want to come with me?”

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. “Aw, Spence, that does sound fun, but I can’t. I’m busy.”

“Oh.” His fingers curled around the strap of his bag, grip tightening. “No, that’s fine. What are you doing?” He asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Just… something with a friend.” You said vaguely, offering him a small smile.

A friend.

He nodded, forcing a smile. “Nice. Okay. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah.” You agreed before walking away, leaving him standing there.

And it wasn’t just him noticing the change anymore, it was the whole team.

The way you were always texting, checking your phone like you were waiting for something. For someone.

Morgan noticed first, of course.

“Someone seems pretty occupied.” His voice was laced with amusement as he watched your fingers fly over your screen.

You glanced up, blinking. “Yeah, sorry.” You muttered, locking your phone and setting it down.

“Important stuff?” Spencer asks, trying to sound casual.

You shook your head. “No not important at all.”

Morgan snorted. “Right.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.” He said, smirking as he leaned back in his seat.

You didn’t buy it, but you let it go, getting up from your spot on the jet and heading toward the restroom.

The second you were gone, Morgan turned toward Spencer, grinning. “That girl is definitely hiding something.”

Spencer’s head snapped to Derek. “Yeah? Like what?” His brows raised, eyes wide.

Morgan’s smirk only grew more. “Woah. Eager, aren’t you, pretty boy?”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m just curious. Does it seem like she’s acting different? Like… someone is causing her to be like this?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re worried.”

“Worried?” Spencer scoffed. “About what?”

“That she might be seeing someone.”

Spencer sat up straighter. “I’m not worried.” He said quickly, too quickly. “Just curious. She’s my friend. Don’t you want to know?”

“Yeah, but only because I’m nosey. You, on the other hand…” Morgan tilted his head. “You want to know because you’re scared of losing her.”

Spencer’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Losing her? How would I lose her?”

Morgan shrugged, still grinning. “No more movie nights, no more friendly dinners, and definitely no more sleepovers. Your girl is gonna be busy with someone else.”

Spencer exhaled sharply, looking away. “She’s just my friend.”

Morgan let out a low chuckle. “Sure, pretty boy. Keep telling yourself that.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Lunch with Spencer had become a routine, quiet escape from the chaos of the BAU. Your usual spot, the same table by the window. Everything felt the same, except Spencer.

He was distracted. Off.

He couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut, the one that told him something was going on with you. Something you weren’t telling him. The past week had been filled with too many smiles at your phone, to many whispered conversations with the girls, and too many times you’d turn him down.

So he had to pry a little bit.

“So, uh…how’s everything been?” He tried to keep his voice even, but there was a nervous edge to it.

You furrowed your brows. “How’s what been?”

“Uh, life?”

You smiled, stirring your drink absentmindedly. “Oh, good. Nothing much outside of work. Just busy.” You paused. “Why?”

Spencer shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Just wondering if anything has changed in your life.”

You eyed him for a second, suspicious. “Oh…okay. Well no. Not really. You?”

“No. The same. Work and home. That’s about it.”

“Nice.” You said simply

There was a beat of silence before Spencer tried again. “Can I come over tonight? I’ve been wanting to play this new game I got.”

You hesitated, glancing away. “Oh, my house? It’s kind of a mess. Maybe we can do it at yours instead?”

His grip on his fork tightened. A mess? That was the excuse? Since when did you care if he saw your place like that? Unless… you were hiding something? Someone?

Had the person you were seeing already moved in?

The thought sent a sharp, unwelcoming sting through his chest.

“Yes.” He said, a little too quickly. “My house is good. Is eight okay with you?”

You nodded, smiling. “Perfect.”

Then your phone buzzed, and before he could say anything else, you grabbed it. You didn’t just check it, you smiled at it. A real, genuine smile.

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek.

Something burned in his stomach. Jealously.

It was stupid. Irrational. He had not right to be upset. You weren’t his.

But he was upset.

“We should go back now.” He said abruptly.

You glanced at the time. “We still have some time, though.”

He clears his throat. “I’m not really feeling good.”

Your brows knit tighter in concern. “Oh. Okay.”

You don’t question it. And that made him feel worse.

Back at the office, he watched as you practically sprinted to JJ, Emily, and Penelope. The four of you huddled together, whispering, giggling.

Spencer tried to listen, straining to hear past the office noise, but all he caught were Penelope’s dramatic gasps and high-pitched “oh my gods.”

And then-

“We need to meet him.” JJ says.

Spencer could’ve fainted right there.

Meet who?

Why did they get to know, and he didn’t? He thought you were closer than that.

“Maybe Friday night?” You suggested. “We can all get together. He’d love to meet the team.”

Spencer’s stomach twisted. He.

Who the hell was he?

He felt sick.

But no one noticed the way his face fell, the way his fingers dug into his palm as he clenched his fists.

“Yes, Friday!” Penelope clapped her hands excitedly. “I’ll tell the guys! Derek loves a night out at the bar.”

“Alright, I’ll let him know.” You said, smiling at the girls before heading back to your desk.

Spencer, however, turned on his heel and walked straight to the restroom, locking himself in a stall to breathe.

By the end of the workday, he’d barely spoken to you. He wasn’t even sure he could without his feelings slipping out in some pathetic, embarrassing way.

But then you ran into him on your way out.

“Hey.” You greeted, smiling up at him. “Still up for that game?”

Spencer hesitated, shifting on his feet. His emotions were too raw, too tangled. The thought of sitting alone with you tonight, knowing Friday he was probably going to have to come face to face with that guy, made him want to crawl out of his skin.

“I, umm…” he scratched the back of his neck. “I’m still not feeling good. Maybe next time.”

Your face fell slightly, and it made his chest ache. “I can still come over and make you some soup? Or we can watch a movie?”

For a brief second, he melted. Your voice was so soft, so you. Sincere. You cared about him. But then reality him, maybe you were like this with him, too. Maybe you were sending him sweet messages, making him laugh, offering him soup when he wasn’t feeling well.

The thought made his stomach turn.

“Uh, no.” He said, voice flat. “I want to be alone.”

Something flickered across your face, something confused and a little hurt. “Oh. Okay. Well… get better. Let me know if you do want my company. I’d love to stop by.”

Spencer swallows hard. “Yeah.”

Then he turned and walked away before you could see just how much he hated this.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

By Friday everyone had noticed, Spencer was off.

His usual, quiet, awkward charm had been replaced by something sharper, something angry. He was short with everyone, but mostly with you.

“Are you okay, Spencer?” You finally asked, cautiously approaching his desk.

His eyes lifted from the case file in front of him, sharp and unreadable. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You frowned. “You’ve just been…I don’t know. Different.”

Spencer let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Me? Different?” His voice was laced with sarcasm. “Right. I’m different.”

Your brows knit together. “Did I do something?”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do. I need to focus.” His tone was clipped, dismissive.

Morgan appeared behind you, catching enough of the conversation to raise an eyebrow. “Hey man. just chill.”

“I am chill.” Spencer snapped, jaw tight. “Just both of you. Go.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re acting like a child, but fine. I’ll go.”

Morgan watched you walk off before turning back to Spencer with a disbelieving shake of his head. “Man, you’re scaring her off.”

“Why should I care?” Spencer muttered, flipping a page in his file like it didn’t matter. “She’s taken.”

Morgan scoffed. “Because she’s your friend, and she cares about you. You’re treating her like garbage.”

Spencer didn’t answer. Just clenched his jaw and stared at the file like it could somehow fix what was wrong with him.

Morgan sighed. “You’re gonna regret this, kid.” Then he walked off, leaving Spencer alone with the gnawing, unbearable feeling twisting in his gut.

Later, in the break room, Emily found you pouring yourself a coffee.

“Hey! Have you asked Spencer if he’s coming tonight?”

You sighed. “No. Honestly, I’m kind of scared to talk to him right now. He seems off.”

Emily’s lips pressed together. “Yeah, I’ve noticed too.”

“I’ll try again.” You said, exhaling “maybe he just needs time to cool off.”

Emily nodded. “Hope it goes well.”

With your coffee in hand, you made your way back through the bullpen. You passed Spencer’s desk, and once again, found the same hard expression on his face. He didn’t even look at you.

But you weren’t giving up on him.

Two hours later, you decided to try again.

You walked over and casually perched yourself on his desk, something you’d done a hundred times before. But this time, Spencer tensed. Like he wanted you off.

“Hey,” you greeted softly.

His eyes flicked up. “Hey.”

“Are you coming to the bar tonight? I’d love it if you came.”

Spencer swallowed. “I—I don’t know. Bars aren’t really my thing. You know that.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know, but someone really important is coming, and I’d love for you to meet him.”

Spencer inhaled sharply.

Important. You had to say it like that? Right to his face?

His fingers twitched against his desk. “Yeah, I-I don’t think so.”

You pouted. “Spencer, please. He���s so funny, so cool. The girls already love him, and I know you guys would. He’s such a good guy, you need to meet him.”

His entire body went rigid.

He wanted to snap. He wanted to yell. But instead, he just clenched his jaw so hard it ached.

“No.” His voice was sharp, and final.

You gave him those wide, pleading eyes. “Please?”

He shook his head.

“Alright.” You sighed, standing up. “Well, if you change your mind, it’s at Rudy’s. I really want you there.”

Before leaving, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

His breath hitched.

“I’m here if you need to talk.” You murmured. Then you walked away.

And Spencer ?

He dropped his head into his hands, exhaling sharply.

He felt awful.

Why was he like this? He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t control his jealousy, the anger, the way his emotions spiraled out of control every time he thought about you with someone else.

And worst of all?

He knew he was hurting you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The bar was packed, the energy high. Everyone laughed, letting loose after a long exhausting week.

You were happy, smiling, surrounded by your team. But still, you couldn’t help but miss the one person who wasn’t there.

“He’s not coming.” JJ said gently, watching the way your smile faltered.

You sighed. “He hates me. And I don’t even know why.”

JJ shook her head. “He could never hate you. That boy practically worships the ground you walk on.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Then why does it feel like there’s nothing left for us? I should've made a move when things were good. Now it’s like… he's a different person. And I'm scared he doesn't want me.”

“Just give him time.” JJ said, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

You gave her a small smile before heading to the bar, sipping your drink.

Then.

“Can I sit?”

Your head snapped up. And there he was.

Spencer.

Your heart leapt. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming.”

He shrugged, slipping into the seat beside you. “I changed my mind, I guess.”

“Good.” You beamed. “I’m so happy.”

His eyes softened. “Uh, so where’s that guy?”

“Oh, Brian? He’s running a bit late, should be here soon through.”

Spencer exhaled, forcing a nod.

“Come on, let’s sit with the group.”

Before he could process it, you grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the booth where the team sat. His pulse kicked up at the contact.

As soon as the team saw him, a cheer erupted.

“Look who finally decided to have a life!” Penelope teased.

Spencer forced a smile, sliding into the booth beside you.

For awhile, things felt normal. Drinks flowed, conversations bounced between cases, childhood memories, and ridiculous office gossip. It was the kind of night that made you all feel less like FBI agents and more like lifelong friends.

Until.

“So, this guy we’re meeting…” Rossi drawled sipping his whiskey with an amused smile.

Spencer tensed.

You lit up. “Yes! His name is Brian! I’ve told him all about you guys, and he cannot wait to meet all of you.”

Spencer swallowed hard.

“He’s amazing.”

Spencer rolled his eyes before he could stop himself.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice his reaction.

Then, your name was called.

Spencer���s stomach dropped, this was the moment he had to come face to face with his fears.

You turned, your entire face brightening as you ran into the arms of some guy. You hugged him tightly. Held on to him like he was the best part of your night.

Spencer was sick.

“Guys, this is Brian, my best friend.” You introduced him, glancing around the group. But when your eyes landed on Spencer’s empty seat, your heart sank. He was gone. A knot formed in your chest, but you pushed it aside.

The team greeted Brian warmly, and soon, conversation flowed easily. It didn’t take long for everyone to love him, he was energetic, kind, and full of the craziest stories that had the group laughing.

“So, Brian, what made you want to move here?” Emily asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Well,” Brian grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “This girl right here told me there was a lot of cute guys out here, so I figured, why not? Hot guys and my best friend? Seemed like a no-brainer.”

He smirked, blatantly eyeing Hotch and Derek.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Derek had managed to slip away from the group, and go with Spencer who was at the bar, nursing a drink that seemed like it hadn’t been sipped on.

“Alright, pretty boy. What’s your deal?”

Spencer didn’t even look at him. “I can’t watch her be with him.”

Derek let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. “Look, man, you’re spiraling. You need to go talk to your girl. Seriously.”

“She isn’t my girl, she has a boyfriend.”

Derek rubbed his face like Spencer was exhausting him. “Quit your pouting and go talk to her. Before the night ends.”

Spencer didn’t respond.

Derek groaned and walked off, leaving Spencer with his own miserable thoughts.

He turned toward the booth again, watching you.

You were smiling and having fun but he knew when it was genuine and when it wasn’t, and right now it wasn’t.

A weight settled in his chest.

So he made his choice.

Pushing off the bar, he crossed the room, weaving through the crowd until he was in front of you.

You looked up, surprised, but your expression softened. “Spencer, you’re back.”

His voice was low. “Can we talk?”

You studied his face, concern flickering across your features before you nodded.

Without another word, he took your hand and led you somewhere quieter, somewhere just for the two of you.

You both sat down, the buzz of the teams laughter and music muffled by the distance. There was a silencer between you, not uncomfortable. You didn't say anything. You were waiting... For him.

Spencer was thinking. If the man had steam coming out of his ears, you wouldn't even be surprised.

Finally, his eyes met yours. “I’m sorry.” he said softly.

He gave your hand that was still in his a gentle squeeze, you should've pulled away because truthfully, he didn't deserve to hold it, but you couldn't.

“I’m sorry I was being a-”

“An ass?” you filled in, no hesitation.

His jaw dropped slightly at your bluntness before he sighed in surrender. “Yeah… I deserved that.”

You nodded. “You did.”

Then your voice lowered, a little more vulnerable. “What did I do, Spencer?”

His shoulders sank under the weight of your words, he couldn’t believe he made you feel like it was all your fault. “Nothing. God, you didn’t do anything.” He said. He couldn’t even look at you.

You followed his gaze and it was on Brian, so it all clicked together for you.

“Be honest.” You urged gently.

His eyes flicked to you, guilt written all over his face. “I was jealous.”

���By who?” You asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear it from him.

“Brian.” He muttered, looking down at his shoes like they might offer an escape. You tilted your head. “Brian?”

You could’ve teased him. Let him stew a little more, just for the hell of it. But he already looked like he’d been spiraling all week, and the truth was, you didn’t want to see him in pain, not when you cared about him this much.

“Spencer, Brian’s not into me.” You said. His head snapped up. “How?” He asked, baffled. “You’re- you’re perfect.”

You chuckled, shoulders lifting in a little shrug. “I’m not his type.” You glanced toward the booth where Brian was now leaned in, laughing at something Derek was saying. “But I think Derek might be.”

Spencer tracked your gaze, eyes narrowing in that profiler way of his. One second. Two. He blinked.

“Oh.”

The air left his lungs in a rush, like someone had cut the string pulling his jealousy tight.

But then his brows furrowed again. “Then why have you been different lately? Happier. Dressing up. You stopped inviting me over…”

You smirked. “Didn’t know you were paying so much attention, Dr. Reid.”

He flushed.

“Brian and I moved in together. That’s why I’ve been in a better mood, I guess. It’s nice having my best friend from home close. And yeah, I’ve been putting more effort in… but that’s because I’ve been trying to get the attention of this one genius loser I work with.”

Spencer blinked. That trademark genius brain of his clearly went offline.

You rolled your eyes with a grin. “You, Spence. It’s you.”

His lips parted, like the words were there but stuck. “I-I just didn’t want to assume.”

You gave him a playful look. “Right.”

He looked lighter now, like the guilt and confusion he’d been carrying and finally lifted.

“I really like you.” He said, voice more confident now. He leaned in a little. “And I-I want to make everything up to you.”

You raised brow. “Oh yeah? How?”

He smiled nervously. “Can I take you to dinner?”

You nodded slowly, clearly enjoying watching him squirm. “I’d like that…and?”

He bit his lip, thinking. “Movies…and then we can go back to my place and play that game I was telling you about?”

You nodded. “Not bad. It’ll be perfect if you also take on a couple of my files for a month.”

He groaned but smiled. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Your guys eyes locked on each others, and you weren’t sure who leaned in first. It didn’t matter.

The moment your lips met, it was soft, hesitant, but warm. Then Spencer deepened the kiss, one hand rising to cup your jaw, his other still holding you hand tightly like he couldn’t let go. His tongue slid across your lips, and you let him in.

You guys moved in sync, like you were perfect for each other.

And like this is where you guys were supposed to be.

You kissed until the need for air pulled you apart. Both of you stared, wide-eyed, lips parted.

“I was supposed to be mad at you a little longer.” You teased, he grinned smug. “Can I kiss you again so you won’t?”

You giggled. “Maybe.”

He leaned in again. This kiss was sweeter and gentler like he had gotten all the desperate need for you out with the first kiss. Now, he just wanted to continue feeling your lips on his, even if it was just a peck.

“I can do this all night.” You tell him

“I can too.”

And with that, the two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s company for the rest of the night. The team didn’t interrupt or tease, they simply let you be, giving you the space to enjoy the quiet warmth between you. It was easy, comfortable, like everything had finally fallen into place…

@beeintheskies Hope you love this<3 it was so fun to write, thank you for your request!

Divider from @hyuneskkami

[puckinghischier]

i’m having soft quinn thoughts today and i have to shout them from the rooftops so everyone else can suffer with me.

but i absolutely cannot stop thinking about how quinn would always want to spend time with you, but feel guilty for how occupied he is during the season. every second of downtime he has is spent watching game film in your living room, studying tactics and plays. not that you ever complain. you’re content simply being in the same room as him, not taking for granted any amount of time you can be in his presence.

quinn’s attention is always half on you, no matter how hard he tries to focus. he steals more glances at you than he cares to admit, worried that one day you’ll get sick of sitting in silence while hockey occupies the space between you. but you never do. you keep yourself busy scrolling through your phone or reading the most recent book he bought you, never uttering a complaint. he’s tuned in to every fidget or movement you make, not wanting you to remove your always cold feet from under his warm legs to occupy yourself with something—or rather someone—better.

it surprises him that you never do. you never utter a word, not wanting to disrupt his work. every so often he’ll catch you looking back at him during one of his ‘quick’ glances, absorbing the warm smile you give him. sometimes you’ll quietly ask him if he wants anything from the kitchen when you stand to go fill up your water cup, but seem content to simply sit there with him as he mumbles to himself, jotting down notes as he watches.

tonight, he can’t help but notice—during his million and one glances at you—that your eyes are glued to the tv. your phone is laying, locked, in your lap, eyes following the puck as it’s shuffled across both screens from player to player. your body’s subtle reactions to the game aren’t lost on him either. the twitch of your foot anytime someone shoots the puck, the raise of your brow when a player on either team scores, the hitch in your breath anytime the two teams start to fight.

you can feel his eyes on you more than usual tonight, his (not so) subtle glances lingering longer than normal. you turn your head to meet his gaze, brows furrowed and a puzzled look on his face.

“what?” you whisper, flitting your eyes between his own and the tv, not wanting to miss any important moments.

“are you watching the game?” he looks at you like you have three heads.

you giggle in response, amused at his expression and surprised tone of his voice. “yeah, kinda. don’t really know what’s happening, though, if i’m honest.”

there was never a home game of quinn’s you missed. you went to support him every time you could, and loved seeing him in his element. but you can’t even pretend to understand the sport past each player wanting to get the puck into the opposing net. you didn’t understand the positions, the penalties, or anything surrounding the ins and outs of professional hockey. you never watched it growing up, and probably still wouldn’t watch it if you weren’t dating the captain of your new city’s team.

you had moved to vancouver for work, and knew nothing of the prominent hockey culture before you arrived. the sports presence buzzed all around you as you figured out the ins and outs of your new home, but it had no place in your daily routine. that is, until you hit it off with this insanely attractive stranger that seemed to frequent the same coffee shop as you. you accidentally cut him in line one day, offering to pay for his coffee to make up for it, but he paid for yours instead. a ‘pay it forward’ war was started between the two of you until he was stood waiting at the door with your usual order one morning, requesting more than just a name and the fact you drank a large, vanilla iced coffee with chocolate syrup lining the cup every morning.

when he realized you were likely the only person in the city he now calls home that doesn’t know who he is, it only piqued his interest in the pretty coffee shop stranger further. the morning meetings at the shop turned into an exchange of numbers, which developed into him meeting you for lunch on your break when he was in town, that then escalated into dinner dates and spontaneous outings, and now it’s found its permanence in you moving in with him a few months ago.

you were…indifferent, when he revealed to you who he was and what all his career entailed, uttering out a simple “oh! that’s cool! makes sense why you’re always at the gym, now” later explaining that you thought he was just really into fitness and maybe worked as a personal trainer or some equivalent. when he first invited you to games he tried to tell you a little bit about the rules, but assumed you’d catch on as you watched (hopefully) more and more of his sport. you always told him how much you enjoyed watching him in his element, but never asked many questions past if the other team was supposed to be good or not. he assumed you understood enough to keep up, knowing how intelligent and observant you are, but he tried to refrain from talking about work too much with you. when he’s with you, he wants to be present with you, not hockey.

which is why he feels so guilty at times like this, watching film while you’re sitting next to him. it feels like you’re two people who happen to be in the same room, completely in your own worlds. until tonight.

“you…never watch the games with me. you always have a book or something,” he reaches over to pause the game, still a little shocked.

you shrug at him. “didn’t feel like reading tonight. not really anything new on my socials, either. so i figured i’d just watch with you for once.”

“and you weren’t gonna say anything?”

this earns a real laugh out of you, not understanding why this is such a big shock for him. it’s not like you’ve ever told him you don’t like hockey. you just have never really cared to watch it if isn’t the one playing. but you’ve been wanting to learn more about it recently, tired of not being able to participate in the games like the other women do when they’re watching their husband or boyfriend play.

“why would i? you’re trying to work, i’m just trying to learn a little bit,” you reply, the hint of a laugh on each word as you say it.

quinn just blinks at you, trying not to get his hopes up at your expression, not knowing just how far you want to go with your quest for knowledge.

“since when do you want to learn about hockey? why now?” he questions, trying not to sound accusatory or snarky, but genuinely curious as to what you’ll answer.

“i’ve always wanted to learn, ever since that first game i went to, but you don’t seem to like to talk about it outside of the rink, so i don’t really ask much. me and google have become very good friends as of late,” you shrug out another answer for him. “plus, when you’re watching games at night like this, i don’t want to keep talking and asking a million questions while you’re trying to work, so i force myself not to watch to keep from distracting you.”

quinn sits a little straighter, now worried he’s made it seem like hockey is this forbidden subject between the two of you.

“sweetheart, i don’t like talking about hockey outside of the rink because i don’t ever want you to think that’s all we ever talk about, not because we can’t talk about it,” he tries to defend himself, even though there’s no accusation. “if you want to learn about the game, please, ask me questions. i- god, i’d love nothing more than to teach you about it. i hate sitting here in silence every night i’m home, worried you’re going to eventually get pissed at me because all i do during the season is watch old games.”

you grin at his slight panic, endeared by how worried he was about your feelings this whole time, appreciating his intention with the unspoken rule.

“q, i never asked about it because i didn’t want you to be upset because i kept bringing up work when you’re away from it all,” your smile only grows at the fact you were both worried about upsetting the other for no reason at all.

the slight tension in his shoulders fades at your words, relieved that you’re not upset or feel like he made it seem like you had no place in that part of his life.

“alright, well, fire away, then,” he gives you the floor, pressing play so the players on the tv screens move once again, now glancing at you every few seconds to catch any looks of confusion or interest in any particular play or action.

the rest of the night is spent playing and pausing the game over and over again, question after question flying out of your mouth. anything from why the faceoff is from a certain spot on the ice to what a particular penalty looks like is spoken the second the thought enters your brain. quinn takes his time explaining every answer to you, even rewinding and pulling up other examples to make sure you understand what he’s telling you.

at the end of the night he realizes just how much more he caught of the game while answering your questions. there’s several times you picked up on things he never has before. like why one player seems to always place his stick so close to another player’s skates while he’s chasing him. or why a certain goalie seems to lean left everytime instead of right, no matter where the puck is coming from.

he’s been able to add several tells about players in his notes, ready to take them to practice the next morning and change his game to accommodate his opponents habits. and when they win their game a few days later, thanks to your observations during the impromptu hockey 101 class in your living room, he revels in the fact that even though you know so little about his sport and his job, you ended up being one of the biggest parts of their success.

from then on, the nights of sitting in silence while he studies film are nonexistent. every time he brings work home with him, you’re right there next to him, enthralled in whatever opponent’s game they’re facing that week. he loves that you’re so observant, paying attention to the smallest of details someone who’s been playing for years becomes blind to. and he really loves turning you into a bottomless pit of hockey information, seeing how you absorb each ‘lesson’ from day to day.

when they break through their slump, a big part of that accredited to your nights spent questioning quinn, and he sees you start really participating in his games, he can’t help but fall that much deeper in love with you. watching you scream and complain about bad calls with the rest of the fans in rogers arena, and reading your texts to him about your thoughts on his away games you watch on tv, swells his heart in a way he never thought to be possible.

plus, he always knew it was only a matter of time before you fell victim to the hockey atmosphere of the city. no one can really resist the pull of vancouver hockey, especially not when it’s captain has anything to do with it.

[steddieas-shegoes]

future is bright

for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop up event 'school's out for summer'

rated t | 916 words | no cw | tags: mild hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers (implied), open ending, super senior eddie, eddie needs a hug, steve is ready to give it to him

also on ao3

🏫🏫🏫🏫🏫🏫🏫🏫🏫🏫🏫🏫

He cannot believe he failed again.

Well, he can. But he figured the teachers would pass him just to get rid of him.

He avoids the school on graduation day, but he can’t resist moping in his van at the quarry. He knows most of the seniors won’t show up here until long after their celebratory dinners with family. He’s got the place to himself for a few hours at least.

Or he thought so, anyway.

He hears footsteps coming up behind him, and he turns to see Steve Harrington of all people walking up to him, still in his cap and gown.

“Not selling tonight, man. Sorry,” he says as he turns away from him. Hopefully that’s all he wanted and he leaves.

He doesn’t.

Steve sits down next to him, barely leaves any space between them.

“Is this an act of rebellion or did you really not graduate?” Steve asks him.

Eddie turns and prepares to reply with something cutting, something that’ll hurt Steve enough that he’ll leave. Steve’s looking at him with a genuine sadness, concern written in his frown.

“Isn’t it an act of rebellion to not graduate twice in a row?” Eddie asks, giving him a small, sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says and it sounds genuine so Eddie nods once in acceptance. “Gym?”

“Shockingly, no. Chem.”

“Chem sucks.”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah. I probably could’ve tried harder.”

“Eh. Next time.”

As if it’s that simple. As if a third senior year is an acceptable thing to be doing.

“Not sure I can do another year, man,” he says quietly, voice nearly breaking around the words. “Might just have to be what everyone expects me to be after all.”

“And what’s that?” Steve’s thigh is warm against his, but his gaze is hotter.

“A failure. Just like my dad. Loser who never leaves Hawkins or does anything,” Eddie shrugs. “Everything your buddies used to say I’d be.”

“I never said those things.” Steve pauses and sighs. “I don’t believe any of that.”

Which is at least partially true. Steve never did say any of that to his face, and maybe not even behind his back. Steve’s dad was actually Al Munson’s lawyer back in the day, probably knows more than anyone else besides Wayne and Eddie himself how shitty Al was as a person and father. But he never said anything. A part of him must’ve thought it, though.

“It’s okay if you do. Not much of a case for me to be any different.”

Wayne hugged him earlier, before he left for the shift he picked up, said he was proud of him no matter what. Wayne always believes in him, more than he should. But it doesn’t make Eddie feel any more confident.

“I dunno. The fact that you didn’t give up the first time is already a lot of proof you won’t be like him,” Steve’s smirking when Eddie looks over, but he doesn’t turn towards Eddie. “And the fact that I know you’re gonna try again proves you’re a lot better than he ever was.”

“You don’t even know me,” Eddie has to say, bites it out so Steve stops being nice to him.

“I know what it’s like to have expectations on you to be like your dad,” Steve finally turns to him. “Maybe mine isn’t the same as yours in some ways, but I think we have a lot more in common than you think.”

Eddie thinks about the time he saw Steve getting yelled at in his father’s office when Al dragged him to a meeting with his lawyer, how dejected Steve looked, eyes cast down to the floor. He didn’t know what it was about but he knows he couldn’t have been older than seven or eight, didn’t deserve to be berated in an office full of people over something that ultimately didn’t matter. He remembers Al saying something about rich people getting away with things poor people can’t, and remembers seeing Steve with bruises on his arms the next day.

He may have failed chemistry, but he got an A in math.

“You still trying to make him proud?” Eddie asks, unsure if he ever even tried in the first place.

“Nah. I learned a while ago nothing will. Not worth being someone I’m not,” Steve leans his weight against Eddie. “You gonna keep moping or come hang out at my house?”

Eddie’s jaw drops. “You want me to come to your party?”

“No,” Steve laughs. “I want you to come hang out with me and a few of my friends. Nancy and Jonathan and Robin. They’re cool. Promise.”

“Ah. To bring weed.”

Steve’s brow furrows. “No. To hangout. I mean you can bring whatever you want, but I’ve already got drinks and food and stuff so.”

Eddie thinks about it. He’s been wallowing for days now, and he’s pretty tired of himself. Steve’s offering something that seems like friendship, and he has no reason to believe he doesn’t actually mean it.

Wayne won’t be home until morning, and he probably wouldn’t notice if Eddie wasn’t around. He could smoke a little, maybe crash on one of Steve’s couches.

“I’m in.”

Steve beams at him like he just told him he won the lottery. It’s a beautiful smile, one that has Eddie’s heart skipping a beat traitorously.

Going back to school for another year will suck, he’s sure of that.

But he’s also pretty sure that he’s walking into a pretty great summer.

[celuere]

Please I need arle being the biggest piece of shit during a date with reader, pulling every single method of teasing you before dicking you down 🥺 (stripteasing pls)

Feel free to add whatever else you want :333 ty and love you lots

pairing: arlecchino x fem!reader

cw: arles fat fucking dick, stripteasing ngh, teasing, overstimulation, uhmmmm you‘re not wearing any underwear, voyeurism kinda??, usage of a vibrator, unhinged sesbian lex

freakray is at it again (yk i love you)

„is the food to your liking, my love?“, arlecchino cut her own - very raw - steak in half as she awaited your answer.

she just had to take you out to dinner today. she didn’t even ask. all she gave you was a „be ready by six“ and placed a tiny little bag into your lap with things she wanted you to „wear underneath your dress“.

that’s why you were sitting with nothing covering your pussy underneath todays attire.

the bag was empty.

you don’t how much dignity you lost in the span of the last three hours but given your husband‘s almost… smug face… she planned this all along.

„the lobster is certainly very delicious, i cannot complain…“, you took an extra big bite into the juicy meat to show her you were serious.

„my… usually i only ever see you this passionate about a different kind of meat.“

her next bite couldn’t have looked more casual.

„e-excuse me?“

„oh, nothing.“

your eyes were wide. filled with shock and something… more carnal as you watched her bring the wine glass to her lips.

and just as you came up with a comeback-

you forced your legs shut. the food in your throat getting stuck as you watched your husband muster you as if she doesn’t have a single clue about what’s going on underneath the table.

as if her hand isn‘t fidgeting with the remote to the vibrator that she had shoved up into your cunt just moments before leaving the house.

„ma cherie… you look a little red in the face. perhaps a few sips of your champagne will cool you down.“, she accompanied her recommendation by tapping on the glass with her razor-sharp nail.

you only glared at her as you rubbed your hand over your thigh to ease the tension, too scared to open your mouth.

fucking sadist.

it didn’t get any better over the duration of your dinner.

you came twice underneath the table before you finished your dessert, legs already quivering as you watched your waitress whisper the bill into the harbinger’s ear.

not letting you know about the ridiculously high price she is paying for the both of you tonight. a common trait of hers. (she refuses to let you even pay for your own part of the dinner every. single. time.)

„it has been a delight to serve you both on this lovely evening. i wish you a safe ride back home.“, the server bowed her head before quietly retreating from your table, leaving you with your husband alone.

a red painted nail trailed the pattern of the table cloth before her, almost in an attempt to distract you- before the lovely toy stuffed between your legs went off again, forcing you to slam your hand onto your mouth this time.

still, with the restaurant staff still being present you could do nothing except scowl at her.

„darling, we should catch the carriage home. don‘t you think so?“

you merely nodded.

the ride to your mansion equaled a death sentence.

with a black hand grabbing and squeezing the plush of your quivering thighs it was fairly hard to take in the winter wonderland outside the windows.

she didn‘t comment on how soaked your inner thighs were in your own arousal, in fact… she didn‘t say anything at all. as if she wanted to keep you on edge as good as possible. as if she wanted to ruin you as much as possible before delivering the grand act- in your bedroom.

the moan that threatened to slip past your lips the more she inched closer to your aching pussy and even with the vibrator turned off, you were cartwheeling on the inside.

what is she planning?

will she torture you even further?

did she just mess with you out of boredom?

„sit and watch.“

two hands pushed you down onto the soft mattress.

„huh- wh-what?“, you watched your husband in slight bewilderment as she stepped away from you, her hand already getting to work on loosening up the tie around her neck. her black blazer already discarded over a nearby chair, leaving her in a bordeaux shirt.

„you heard me.“, your throat went dry as she let it hang loose on her shoulders before her fingers proceeded to unbutton the fabric, „i tortured my poor wife for the whole evening. allow me to pay her back. now keep. your. eyes. on. me.“, each word was undermined by a button being plopped open one after the other.

your body grew hot as the scarred skin came into view first. followed by a toned body that was honed over the years through intense- almost cruel physical labor- and training. yet she never looked more beautiful to you, her wife.

„you are staring, ma amour.“, the slightest hint of a smirk played around her lips as she slid the last layer of clothes down her arms- her bra.

seeing her so… bare in front of you. at her most vulnerable… 

„i‘m allowed to look at what’s mine…“

her hands stilled on the buckle of her belt.

„…indeed, you are. my whole being belongs to you after all. there is no denying that.“, the tall woman stepped closer to you again until she was standing directly before you. it was only now that you noticed the bump in her pants. a fucking big bump.

„go on… undress your husband…“, arlecchino allowed herself to run her hand through your hair and letting her nails caress your scalp, forcing a pleased hum from your lips. 

your pussy clenched. the vibrator already removed from inside of you but you were soaked nonetheless. soaked and not taken care of.

but the knave always takes care of her business.

when she folded you in half on the mattress with her cock rutting into you, it was probably the closest to heaven the both of you will ever get. your nipple engulfed by her lips with the skin already covered in a messy chaos of hickeys and the remains of an expensive bloody-red lipstick.

but she fucked you so well. she knew which pace to use on you, how to angle her hips, what words to whisper to you in order for your vision to be clouded by dancing stars.

„tu es si belle avec ma bite qui bourre ta chatte...“

„you look so beautiful with my cock stuffing your pussy…“

you hope salvation will one day come in form of your husband‘s dick.

[holylulusworld]

Torn in two (3)

Summary: It should’ve been the happiest day of your life.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader (platonic for now)

Warnings: heavy angst, Steve being the worst, cheating, lies, deception, sadness, arranged marriage, unrequited love, hurt & comfort, love-struck Bucky, a hint of possessive Bucky, virgin reader (mentioned)

Catch up here: Torn in two (2)

Bucky kept his word. He made sure that Steve and his men were searching for you on the other side of town. For now, you’re safe at his place. You don’t know for how long.

You cannot hide from your father or Steve for the rest of your life. One way or another, you must face them.

“You should eat something, doll,” Bucky points at the plate he placed in front of you. “Are the clothes okay? I don’t have lady’s stuff around.”

“The shirt and sweatpants are much better than the wedding dress,” you sniff. “Did you know that I never wanted to wear that dress? His mother forced me to follow tradition and wear the nightmare she dared to call a wedding dress.”

“Still, you looked beautiful in it,” Bucky swoons hard when you steal a fry from the plate. “You’d rock a potato sack.”

“You only try to be nice.” You slowly chew the fry. “What do I do now? Steve knows that I heard every word. I cannot go back and pretend he doesn't want to get rid of me. Steve hates me. The man I loved for so long hates me, and my heart cannot take it.”

“We will think about a solution tomorrow. You need to eat and get some sleep.” He sternly says. I know today was a lot to stomach, but there will be better times, too. Don’t give up on your dreams and hopes.”

“All my dreams involved Steve, but since he said all those hurtful things, it feels like I fell out of love within the blink of an eye.” You sniffle and look at Bucky. “What if I never loved him? What if I only believed he was the right guy? What if I missed out on falling for the right person because I hung my heart on Steve?”

Bucky looks surprised, but there’s something else in his eyes. Hope, maybe?

“I don’t know the answer to any of your questions, but I have food.” He gives you a soft smile. “Come on, doll. Dig in and have some of the best fries in Brooklyn.”

He dips his head, staring at you because you still don’t eat.

“Where did you get fries at two am? You were gone for, like, ten minutes?” You grab a few fries and stuff them into your mouth. “Fuck, they are good. I haven’t eaten good stuff in weeks to look radiant and pretty for that asshat.”

Bucky chuckles. Even though you’re talking about his friend. “Steve is a fool, doll. He was always like that. The golden boy getting all the nice things and never valuing their worth.”

“He got things the easy way. Steve never had to work for anything. Women, money, his good looks,” you curse your husband. “One day, he should face the consequences of his doings.”

“If you ask me, he felt it tonight,” Bucky laughs, remembering the panic in Steve’s voice. The last thing your husband needs is for your father to find out that someone hurt you. He must protect you. “Eat up and get some sleep. Tomorrow everything will look better.”

“No, it won’t,” you sniffle and wipe your eyes, “but thank you for saying it. I know you mean well. We both know this world and how it works too well. I’m stuck, and there’s no way out. Steve and my father won’t leave me alone. Escaping my duty was never an option.”

“Well then, we will find a way out. Together,” Bucky sternly states. He looks your way, giving you a cracked smile. “I sacrificed more than enough for Steve. I was always loyal. But loyalty has limits, doll. If he wants me to bring you back to him, I’ll refuse.”

You nod, but don’t believe a single word. Two men you trusted with your life have already betrayed you in the worst way possible. There’s no trust left in you. Not even for Bucky.

Bucky watches you sleep on his bed. He doesn’t want to be a creep, but Alpine was making a fuss. She wanted him to let her into the bedroom to join you on the bed.

He shakes his head, watching Alpine curl in your side. “You really like her, huh?” Bucky sighs deeply. “I know how you feel.” He whispers. “I don’t know how to make it real, Alpine…”

You flutter your eyes open, feeling a weight next to you. Two strong arms are wrapped tightly around your body, holding you safely.

Bucky is unaware that you woke. He only wanted to make you feel safe after you cried in your sleep. It wasn’t his plan to fall asleep, his arms still wrapped around your body.

“Bucky,” his name is only a whisper on your lips. You sigh and close your eyes, enjoying the last peaceful moments before you must face Steve and your father.

[psychomentillidie]

Dress

Part 1 🐍 Part 2

Pairing: virgin!tom riddle x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: english isn’t my first language, heavy sexual contact, p in v, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex, subby!tom, experienced!reader.

Summery: after a little talk with his brother, Tom decides to ask his best friend to take his virginity.

“𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟”

"Are you going to the Slytherin party tonight?" Mattheo asked the second he walked into Tom's dorm room. It was a pretty stupid question, considering the fact that Tom had never been to a Hogwarts party, not even once in the seven years he'd been there.

"Yeah, y/n asked me to come this time. She said it's important to 'have fun' since it's our last year here."

That answer genuinely shocked Mattheo. It was almost unbelievable how much influence y/n had over his brother.

"Wait, are you serious? I can't believe the Tom Riddle is actually going to a party. I'm going to make sure it's the best fucking party in Hogwarts history," he said excitedly. "I'll get alcohol for everyone and—oh, I know! I'll steal veritaserum from Snape so we can play truth or dare. It's going to be bloody awesome."

Tom was still trying to understand what was so "bloody awesome" about a bunch of teenagers drinking and playing games. He was dreading going, but y/n had begged him to come, and for some reason, he just couldn't say no to her. Which was odd, considering he never had trouble saying no to anyone else.

"What's so exciting about truth or dare? It's a stupid game," Tom rolled his eyes.

Mattheo gave him a look like he'd just said the dumbest thing in the world. "What's so exciting about truth or dare?! Mate, it's the best part! That's when all the tea gets spilled. Last time we played, it came out that Pansy had sex with Adrian's girlfriend, and Adrian's actually a virgin! Truth or dare is elite when everyone drinks veritaserum before answering because then no one can lie."

"I just don't get why anyone would want to admit what they've done or what they haven't."

Tom had never really thought much about sex. He didn't see the point. Why would anyone want to be that vulnerable with someone else? He didn't care for any of the girls at Hogwarts, even though he knew he could easily have a different one in his bed every night if he wanted. But he didn't want to. He just... wasn't interested.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, bro. People just want to know how many girls you've shagged. You've got nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like you're a virgin," Mattheo said with a teasing laugh.

The room suddenly went silent when Tom didn't laugh back. Mattheo stared at him.

"You're a virgin?!"

"Yes. What's the problem with that?"

"There's no problem actually," Mattheo said, holding back a grin. "You just absolutely cannot let the whole school know."

If Tom thought teenagers were stupid before, now he thought they were extra stupid. But the longer he thought about it, the more that small knot of embarrassment twisted in his chest.

"Okay, then I just won't play," Tom said, shrugging. Problem solved, or so he thought.

"Absolutely not, my guy. If you don't play, people will assume something even worse. Like that you're into getting pegged or something."

Tom groaned in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "Then what the hell am I supposed to do?"

Mattheo leaned back with a smug grin. "Easy. Go to y/n's dorm and ask her to have sex with you."

Tom blinked. "What?!"

"Oh come on, you know you've been dying to sleep with her. And don't even try to deny it. I heard you last night, jerking off and moaning her name in the bathroom."

"What the fuck?! Why were you in my dorm last night?"

It was rare to see Tom Riddle blush, but this time, his entire face was red as a tomato.

"Let's not change the subject, alright?" Mattheo said, smirking. "Just go to her dorm and tell her you want to have sex, as simple as that. You know she'll want to. I'm shocked you guys haven't done it together before, considering all that tension that's always around you two whenever you're together."

"Fine. I'll think about it. Now get out, and don't ever come into my room late at night again without announcing yourself first."

The second the door closed behind Mattheo, silence settled over the dorm like a fog. Tom sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the floor.

"Just go to Y/N's dorm and ask her to have sex with you."

Mattheo's words echoed in his mind like a challenge.

It sounded ridiculous. Crude, even. But was it? He clenched his jaw, hands tightening.

It wasn't about the sex. Not really.

It was about her.

Y/N.

The way she laughed like she knew things he didn't. The way she touched him so casually and yet left him breathless. The way she saw through his every mask, every carefully calculated expression, and looked at him.

The real him.

He'd trusted her with everything else; his secrets, his temper, his walls.

Could he trust her with this, too?

The idea of losing control in front of anyone else made his stomach twist. But with her... the thought didn't terrify him. It thrilled him. It made his skin feel too tight and his thoughts feel too loud.

Was it foolish to want more? Was it dangerous?

Maybe. But wasn't it more dangerous to want her and never touch her?

He swallowed hard. Could he ask her? Should he? And if he did... would she say yes?

Would she want him like that? And if she did, would she still see him the same way after?

He wasn't sure. But he knew one thing with absolute certainty;

He didn't want anyone else.

And maybe it was time he finally stopped making excuses for himself and actually tried being intimate with her. Not for the game or the people around him, for his own cravings and wishes.

That was the moment Tom realised, he's ready to lose his virginity to his person, the only person in the world he wasn't scared to be himself around.

It was currently 8:32 p.m. 28 minutes before the Slytherin party was set to begin. You were in your dorm, getting ready alone. Your annoyingly loud roommates had gone to their friend's room to do their makeup together.

You were in the middle of putting on your short, dark blue dress, struggling to zip it up, when you heard a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" you called out, still fiddling with the zipper.

"It's Tom."

You smiled. "Oh, it's you. Come in, Tommy."

He opened the door and stepped inside, standing stiffly like a statue as his eyes scanned you, but he said nothing.

"Well don't you look really handsome, Mr. Riddle," you said, your tone teasing. The flirtation in your friendship was always there, but you weren't lying, he really did look good tonight.

You turned around. "Could you help me zip my dress? I can't reach it."

"No," he said flatly.

You turned back around to face him, confused. "What do you mean no?"

"I'd rather take that dress off than zip it up."

Your eyes widened, a mix of surprise and amusement dancing across your face. A smirk crept in as you looked at him. You almost lost the hope that Tom Riddle will take this friendship he had with you to the next level.

It has been obvious there's something not platonic in the slightest going on between the two of you, but it took Tom years to accept it. Who would have guessed tonight would be the night Tom actually took action and fucked you.

"Oh yeah?" you asked, voice dropping into something lower, silkier.

"Yeah," he said, stepping closer, closing the space between you. You were almost touching now, his proximity making your heart race, but he looked surprisingly calm. Little did you know his insides have been burning with anxiety.

"What are you waiting for, then?" you whispered. "Fucking take it off."

That was all he needed to hear.

He moved forward like he was under a spell. His hands found the zipper and tugged it down slowly, reverently, as if undressing you was a sacred act. The dress slipped from your shoulders and pooled at your feet. You stood before him in only your underwear and bra, entirely unbothered by his stare.

You stepped close and tangled your fingers into his collar, tugging him into a kiss that made his knees weak.

He kissed back like he'd been waiting his entire life for this, like he was afraid it would end too soon. It was messy and eager, his hands trembling as they explored the soft curve of your waist, your back, your breasts.

You pushed him down onto the bed with a gentle shove, straddling him and rolling your hips slowly against his lap. He let out a shaky breath, fingers digging into your thighs like he didn't know what else to hold onto.

"Y/N," he whispered, almost like a warning. "I've never—"

"I know," you purred, grinding on him again. "You're doing so good already, darling."

His eyes fluttered shut as you kissed down his neck, tongue teasing his skin, marking him. You could feel how hard he was already, twitching beneath his trousers. He looked dazed, breathless, wrecked, and you hadn't even taken his clothes off yet.

You climbed off him just long enough to strip him down, also taking down your remaining undergarments, taking your time as you tugged at his belt, his shirt, finally his trousers and briefs, until he was bare beneath you. His cock was flushed and hard, resting against his stomach.

You let your eyes drag down his body, slow and deliberate. "Fuck, you're so pretty, Tom."

He blushed at the compliment, but the way his cock twitched made it obvious how much he liked it.

"Lie back," you whispered.

He obeyed instantly. Tom wasn't one to obey orders from anyone. But with you, it was a different story.

You crawled over him, settling between his legs and kissing a path up his inner thigh, ignoring his whimpers as you teased him everywhere but where he wanted.

"Y/N," he groaned. "Please, please, I need—"

You pressed your fingers to his lips. "Shh. I'm going to take care of you."

You kissed him deeply, slowly grinding your bare hips against his, letting him feel how wet you already were.

You guided his hand between your thighs. "Feel that? That's all for you."

He swallowed hard, fingers exploring tentatively.

You smiled. "Let me show you."

You moved his hand where you wanted it—two fingers brushing your clit, stroking slowly. He watched you in awe as you moaned from his touch, your hips rocking against his hand.

"Curl your fingers inside me," you whispered. "There. Right there. Fuck Tommy, you're a natural."

His confidence grew as you moaned his name, his fingers moving faster, slick with your arousal. The way he looked at you—like you were something holy, made heat coil in your stomach.

You stopped him just before you tipped over the edge.

"I need you inside me," you whispered against his mouth. "Do you want that?”

His answer was immediate. "Yes. Please. I want—I need you so bad, Y/N."

You reached down and lined him up with your entrance, teasing him by dragging the tip through your folds before sinking down slowly.

His head fell back, mouth open in a silent moan as you took him inch by inch.

"Fucking hell," he gasped. "You feel—fuck Y/N."

You rode him slowly at first, letting him adjust, watching his reactions. Every time you shifted your hips, he twitched helplessly inside you, moaning your name like a prayer.

You leaned down to kiss him softly. "You okay, baby?"

He nodded frantically. "Yes. I'm okay. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

You smiled against his lips. "I wasn't planning to."

You picked up the pace, grinding your hips harder, riding him like you were claiming him. His hands gripped your waist tightly, his head rolling back as he struggled to hold on.

"Y/N—fuck—I'm not gonna last—I can't—"

"Come for me, baby," you whispered, dragging your nails down his chest. "Let me feel you."

That was all it took. He cried out as he spilled inside you, cock twitching, breath ragged. You kept moving, chasing your own high, and just as his orgasm was fading, you came with a moan of his name, collapsing forward onto his chest.

You both stayed there, sweaty and breathless, your fingers stroking through his hair as his arms wrapped tightly around you.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then finally, you whispered, "So... how was that for your first time?"

He let out a breathless laugh, still catching his breath. "I think you just ruined me for anyone else."

You grinned against his chest. "Good. That was the plan."

He kissed your hair, and his voice softened. "Thank you."

You looked up at him. "For what?"

"For not treating me like I'm fragile. For not making me feel ashamed for being so vulnerable. For..." he hesitated, then said softly, "for being you."

Your teasing smile faded into something warmer, more intimate. You cupped his face and kissed him slow and sweet. "You're mine now, Riddle."

He nodded. "I've always been".

Part 2 is out<3

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).

summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer

warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl

a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.

“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.

“uh, yeah actually.”

“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”

“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.

“you’re no fun man.”

the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.

three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,

“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,

“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”

spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.

“rubatosis.”

“bless you?”

“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,

“the love of used bookstores?”

“i saw old books in your car.”

“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.

“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,

“you didn’t even look at the register.”

“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.

there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.

“bye.”

the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.

you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.

you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.

“i’m not going to ask.”

“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.

you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”

he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”

you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”

you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”

“bye, spencer.”

you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?

you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.

you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.

“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”

you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”

he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.

he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.

“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“

“how did you get that perfectly-“

“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”

you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.

“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.

“i can’t tell you.”

you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”

he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”

you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”

he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”

you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”

“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.

“yeah, no i don’t. why?”

spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”

you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.

pt. 3

taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara

[camlovesjace]

BASTARD ! J.V

summary: As his son reaches four namedays Jace cannot longer ignore the whispers of the people, how it seemed too "obvious" to everyone that his own child -the one his wife had gave him- was a bastard and he could not longer bear hear of that. warnings: swearing, use of bad words, argue, p in v, aggressive/possessive jace, NOT cheating.

He slammed the door which caused the maidens to ran away as soon as they could, Haena sighs and left her cup of tea over the edge of the table. No one was into their bedchambers at this hour but the princess was sure her husband's deep breaths were being heard by the whole island.

"They said it again?" she asked, only causing Jace to throw the things off of the table, including her cup.

"Those fucking traitors" he shouted, Haena get up from her chair and walked towards him, trying to bring him some solace by caressing his tense shoulders. And it worked "I will cut their tongues one by one before the dawn"

"Jacaerys" she whispers and he moves his hand up, almost in a plea for her to not give him another sermon about the mercy a future king should have. Like she had done before.

"He´s mine..." Jacaerys says, his jaw clenching. Their child had blonde hair, the same as any other Targaryen before him, the same as his mother has "He´s mine in every single sense of the damned word"

"You know he is, who cares what others think?" his wife asks, her smaller hands caressing his back, trying to light the tension on his body.

"I care" he says, taking a deep breath. His face was warm, and his hands were closed into a fist, over the big and now empty table "This rumors, it will haunt him...as much as mines haunt me until this days. You don't know how is to grew up with the shadow of bastardy over your shoulder..."

Haena sighs and rest his chin on the shoulder of her husband, her hands moving to his chest but she could still feel the anger under the sadness of his words. The need to protect their child, his heir, from those who could want to haim him.

"You're mine too" he says, and she nods but he breaks the hug to turn around and pull her into his arms, his hands squeezing the flesh of everything he could reach "You heard me? You´re mine, and every child of your womb is fucking mine too"

She gasp when he kisses her, his lips devouring hers with a hunger of a starved man. She have had the pleasure of feel how his rage turned into something more primal when it comes to her, of course she have had the pleasure...the last time she did her stomach grew swollen with his child. Their only child...yet.

His hands moves to her dress, pulling it out desperately, leaving her bare and exposed over the table, his fingertips moving to her throat to hold her in place as his lips returns to hers. She moaned and her cunt squeezed on a delicious ways, excited to take him in once again.

She could feel how she started getting wet by the just thought of her husbands cock, that inviting cock that always made her come undone into his arms. Yet it seemed like Jace had other plans, when his hands leaved her throat to push her down the table, his gentle movement were a dark contrast to the roughness she knows she will get from him tonight.

His tongue played with the hard and sensitive nipples, she closed her eyes and buried her fingertips on his dark curls, the curls her child had. His mouth leaved her breast after a few, his mouth desperate to taste the sweetness of her cunt. Jace could feel his cock beating and getting warm as the seconds past, the fabric of his pants getting tighter as his mouth found his wife´s womanhood.

He moaned against her cunt and she arched her back against the wood of the table, he left out a small chuckle, laughing at the thought of people thinking his wife was taking someone else's seed instead of his own.

"Like if i could let anyone else seeing you like this, all bare and whimpering for more of my damn cock or tongue" he said and she smiled as his words, enjoying a lot his dirty talk. Two of his fingers fucked her with not announcement in such a deliciously way that made her cry out his name, he moved them in and out, caressing her core and feeling how her walls tried to milk them out.

Yet he was not for teasing, he needed something and he was just preparing her. His hand leaved her and the way he pulled back slightly made her gasp is frustration, her noises making him chuckle.

"I'm gonna ate your cunt all night darling, but now i want you to take my seed once again, okay?" he said and she nodded, then she sees how he pulls his pants down, leaving his hard cock at the sight. She moaned and then he took her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the table.

"You'll make me another baby?" she asks, almost mocking him, but that was all she wanted. Their only child was four name days now, she needed to have another of his child, many of them if the god´s wanted to.

He slipped in, his curved cock against her soaked and thigh walls, the tip of it hitting that sweet spot on her cunt only him knew where it was, she whimper his name over and over as his hips started moving with more urgency and desperation, his movements almost brutal making her bounce over his body, his cock moving in and out of her and the slaps of their thighs together created a sinful song in the silence of their bedchambers.

Her hands rested on the back of his neck, as he buried his face in the valley of her breast, making her shiver as his teeth and tongue toyed with her nipples. His grip on her hips was almost bruising and, when she thought he could no do it better, he quicken his pace.

She was sure her cries of pleasure were being heard by everyone on this damn island, yet she could not find any reason to care about it, she found no shame in letting everyone know her husband made her squirm on his arms, his thum rolled over her swollen pearl and soon her release came.

She did not wanted to cum so soon, not when she could feel how his cock was still deliciously hard inside her but she also knew shell have more of him tonight.

His head moved up, his nose against her as she felt how his seed spilled against her squeezing walls, filling her womb. He moved his hips, wanting to take his cum deeper into her cunt, wanting to make her swollen with a child of his again.

"Let's show all those morons that all of my children will have your pretty blonde hair, my queen" he whispers, his nose against hers and his words making her smile. She nodded and sighed, then she felt him lifting her up, walking towards their bed.

She knows tonight they'll make another heir, his determination is enough to make her feel like she could live being her husband's whore.

TAG LIST ! @nebulamorada

[yoonia]

— love is banned ● teaser

— title: Love Is Banned | pairings: Jaebum/Jay B x female reader| genre: pwp (porn with very little plot), post break-up!au, brother’s best friend!au

— summary | Heartbroken beyond repair, you escape to your brother’s place hours away from home, desperate to avoid the Valentine’s Day soiree happening around you—only to find yourself trapped in the middle of his love-filled house party. Seeking solitude, you are surprised to find the perfect source of comfort from the last person you had ever expected to meet tonight.

— ratings & full fic warnings | +18 / M for mature;involves swearing, alcohol consumption, explicit sex, teasing and drunk flirting, dirty talk, hand job, oral sex, fingering, edging, light spanking, exhibitionism kink, drunk sex (with consent), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms. 

— word count: 429 words | full fic word count: app. 6k words

— banner design: made by the lovely @lovetaroandtaemin | divider credit

Outside, coming all the way from downstairs, the music is still blaring loudly the later it gets in the night. The sound of people dancing, chatting, and cheering over some sort of a drinking game can be heard through the thick walls. 

But here, the air is getting thick with tension, and it’s hard to focus on anything else when you are pressed down against the hard mattress beneath you, and you have your brother’s best friend hovering on top of you with a sick, teasing grin on his face. 

And oh, how much you struggle to keep your eyes away from those enticing lips. 

“So? What do you say?” he asks again while his gaze moves to your lips, lingering for a few seconds too long as he catches you licking your lips. “It’s a one time offer, and time is ticking. How much longer do you think before your brother comes in and catches us together?” 

You cannot help but grin at the mention of your brother. “Aren’t you afraid that he might just do that and break your nose again like he did years ago?” 

Jaebum laughs, and your heart skips a beat when you realise how much his voice has changed over the years. And how much you still love it. 

“I think it’ll worth the risk. As long as you’re in.” 

Worth the risk. 

Yeah, there’s nothing stopping your heart from trying to break free from your chest now that you hear such words. You shouldn’t believe it. But you want to believe it. You want to believe that he thinks you are worth risking your brother’s wrath. 

“Well? Are you in? Or are you going to walk out that door and forget everything we talked about?” 

You bite your lip as you consider your options. His offer is tempting, but are you brave enough to take the risk? 

One night. No attachment. No promises. And you get to leave this place free of your pent up frustrations and need. Maybe dare yourself to feel some pleasure from the one you are forbidden to touch.

Even if you might have to ignore the familiar flutters in your chest rising the more you look at him—the same way it used to happen all those years ago whenever you saw him when he was hanging out with your older brother. 

“Not a chance,” you answer him with a grin, before you lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, your arms coming around his neck as you pull him down to you. “Game on.”  

Note: If you’re interested to be tagged in the full fic, leave your name/url in the replies down below!

— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In The Cold

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, social dejection, mentions of religion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Your Christmas is set to be a lonely one, but you do your best to share the cheer with your only friend.

Character: Arvin Russell

Day Seven of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - cottage!core 

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The tension is something you’ll never be used to. The silence is as bad as the hushed voices and the sneering side looks. It's all so suffocating. 

So much as you might’ve earned your judgement, it cannot make them righteous. What was it the pastor extolled; ‘let he who be without sin...’ And why is it that the stones they cast are aimed at you and not the man who joined you in your misdeed? The very one who cozened you into the act?  

Henry still sits on the town council, he still goes home to his wife and other children, he still gets a ‘good morning’ or a ‘good day’, and none bat a single eye along the pew. You can’t even get the same from him these days. He’s a stranger now that your dresses are too tight and your gait is wider and wobbly. Now that his adultery has grown inside of you and continues to, he runs from it. 

You pay at the counter for your meagre fare. Janie fired you not long after the minister’s scolding and none-so-subtle remonstrance of straying innocence. Like your mother and father, she abandoned you to your dejection. You would not stain her Christian mantle. 

The shopkeep, Ted, packs up your goods in the bag without a word. He drops your change on the counter and turns away as you gather it up. Despite that, you still thank him. You lift the bag and hug it above your bump. 

You keep your head down as Esther steps up to the counter with her basket. She makes a comment about the holiness of the coming holidays. Of how Jesus’ birthday should be kept sacred. You know she means you to hear but you don’t show that you do. 

You step out into the chilly winds as they swirl around with a gust of powder. You nearly collide with another as you do. The chuckle that comes with the near-catastrophe eases your nerves. In an instant, the weight is scooped out of your arms. 

“There ya’are,” Arvin greets. He’s the only person in town who talks to you.  

In fact, he’s the only reason you have a place to lay your head. He did up his old shed so you could live there for a while. A barter you insisted on. What would people think if you accepted his invitation to stay in the spare room? Surely worse than the already do. He does not deserve to be tainted by you. 

“You all done for the day?” You ask as you keep your arms crossed. 

“Oh yeah,” he answers brightly, “what’d you get? Anything good...” he sniffs the top of the bag, “I smell cinnamon.” 

You chew your lip, “yeah...” 

You glance at him. He wears his fleece lined denim jacket, the collar greyed with age and a button missing on the right chest pocket. It’s not really enough for that kinda cold. Knockemstiff lives up to its name quite often and the winter will be sure to freeze your bones. 

“Sorry, I’m being nosy,” he chuckles. “You want some candy? Got some in my pocket. Mr. Callahan sent them in with Edwin.” 

“Oh, no, I’m okay,” you blow into your woolen mittens. It’s bitter these days. “Um, I was hopin’... I could make ya dinner tonight. Since ya done so much for me. ‘Fraid I don’t got much else to give right now.” 

“That’d be awfully nice,” he accepts with a bounce in his step, “here.” He shifts the weight of the bag into one arm and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a long shape wrapped in brown paper, the top twisted and tied with ribbon. “Butterscotch.” 

“Arvin, I told ya--” 

“I got lots,” he insists. 

You take it with a thank you. You continue down the packed snow. He’s entirely oblivious to the way Charmain passes with a glare but you feel it in your chest. 

“I was thinking, before the baby comes,” you swallow as the thought bubbles up from the pits of constant dread. “I should leave.” 

“Leave?” He wonders aloud. He looks over at you as snow gathers in his hair, the cold nipping pink his cheeks. He’s two years older than you but looks and seems much younger than you. “Where to?” 

“I got an Aunt a few townships over. She’s the only one still answering my letters. She never had no kids of her own. They all... none of ‘em made it, ya know? I been writing to her and that.” 

“Oh,” his disappointment tweaks in his throat. “Well, you don’t gotta, you know? I don’t mind ya stickin’ ‘round.” 

“I mind. You been so kind already. Once I got the babe, no one gonna take me then neither. No work here, and I’ll be lucky to get a pew on Sundays.” 

“Yeah, well, all these folks be saying they’re godly and how do they act?” His tone edges hotly. “Ain’t godly to turn a soul out. My mama always said so. No soul’ll make it through this world with a dent or two, but the lord’ll forgive.” 

“Mm, she sounds like a nice lady,” you say. 

“She was,” he sniffs. “And so I wouldn’t be puttin’ no shame on her memory by bein’ selfish, ya know? So’s as long as you need it, the shed is yours. I told ya, though, there’s a room inside.” 

“No, no,” you loosen the ribbon and peek inside the paper. The candy stick of twisted sugar is all shades of caramelly brown. You smell it and it plucks at your bottomless hunger. “I don’t mind it. Pa never had the stove goin’ less the snow was past our knees. He always says, if you’re cold, put another sweater on.” 

“Huh,” he scoffs darkly. 

“What?” 

“Yer pa’s the reason you’re in my shed,” he harrumphs. “Sorry for sayin’ it, but I wouldn’t take no advice from a man who’d disown his own blood. He’s the one brought Henry ‘round. They still gettin’ drinks down at the tank.” 

That information is more chilling than the cold. You didn’t know that. You try not to hear things about your father or the man who put this curse in you. 

“I...” he begins crisply, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t gonna tell ya.” 

“Woulda found out soon enough,” you shrug and shove the butterscotch stick in your mouth. You suck on it pensively. It’s sweet but you can hardly enjoy it as your eyes burn with a glaze of tears. 

“So,” he coughs, “what’s for dinner?” 

You pop your lip off the candy, “it’s a surprise,” you say. 

“Oh, I like surprises,” he smiles, not that he ever really stops. Not around you. 

“Well, I hope you like this one,” you drone. 

💝 

You wash the plates from dinner as dessert bakes in the oven. The smell of cinnamon fills the house as you hear Arvin tinkering in the next room. He’s always messing around with something mechanical. You’re not always sure if he’s fixing them or just taking them apart. 

You dry and stack the dishes away. The old house is cozy, quaint. You know it belonged to his parents. It’s still strewn with their memories. As if he’s preserving them in those walls. So you do your best not to disturb it. 

You take the pan out of the oven. The rolled-out dough is perfectly baked and the colour is pristine. The shape resembles their namesake; elephant ears. It’s only dough, sugar, and cinnamon, but so so delicious. Your grandmother used to make them. Despite your current predicament, you’re nostalgic for the simper days. 

You put one on a plate and peek at the doorway. You pause to dig out the parcel you hid under the sink then bring both items out to the front room. You keep the latter behind your back as you approach Arvin. He sits on the floor in front of the burning firestove as he pokes at an old clock with a screwdriver. 

“Here ya go,” you offer him the dessert. “I could make some coffee or tea?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” he puts down the clock and tool, then wipes his hand on the cloth draped over his knee. He reaches up to the take the plate. “Smells good.” He brings the dish down to examine the pastry, “what is it?” 

“Called an elephant ear. Not super fancy.” 

“Looks good,” he grins. “And what’s that?” 

He lifts the baked dough and bites into it as he angles his head as if to see around you. You bring your hand out and present the parcel. 

“Merry Christmas,” you say. “I know it’s not much, and a bit early but it’s gettin’ real cold.” 

He places the plate on the rug and claps his hands off as he chews. His dark eyes sparkle as he takes the bundle wrapped in brown paper. He brings it over his lap and carefully unties the twine. You sway on your feet and rub your stomach as you watch anxiously. 

He uncovers the knitted scarf and cap. He already has thick gloves that he wears for his work. He feels the wool and examines it quietly. You’re suddenly very unsure. 

“You made these? For me?” He looks up. You nod. “Wow, it’s... you lined the cap?” 

“I had a few old pieces I repurposed,” you shrug. 

“It’s...” 

“Not too much. I know. I’m sorry. I don’t make too much these days. People only hire me if no one knows and it’s gettin’ harder to sneak around.” 

He huffs and shakes his head. He lowers his chin and pets the scarf. “It’s everything.” He continues to examine your work. “I hope you don’t mind, my gift’s not ready yet.” 

“Oh, Arvin, you don’t gotta get me nothin’. You done enough.” 

“I want to,” he says. “Now,” he lays down the wool on the rug neatly and grabs his plate. He uncrosses his legs and stands. “Why aren’t you havin’ some dessert? You need to sit down. Let that baby rest. He mustn’t sleep very much with you titterin’ around all the time.” 

“He’s already titterin--” you go to argue and stop with snort. “I think he knows we’re talking about him.” 

You feel your stomach as the baby kicks. Arvin watches your hand on your belly as his brows rise up his forehead. “You think it’s a boy?” 

“Could be. Not too sure. Oof.” You twitch as the baby kicks harder. Then wince again as Arvin puts his hand on you without warning. It’s surprising but not unwelcome. His warmth seeps through your dress. 

“Oh!” He exclaims as the baby beats on your insides. “I can feel him.” 

“It’s a bit early,” you reach back to brace your hips, “he usually waits ‘til I’m in bed.” 

He keeps his hand on you, watching your belly as the baby continues his dance. He seems awestruck by the ripple under your skin. You’re more exhausted of it. 

“I’ll have your present ready soon,” he says. “Promise.” 

💝

Arvin’s truck rumbles up to the house. You were surprised when he drove it into town today. He doesn’t usually start it unless he’s going to fetch firewood or going off for long trips. 

You open the shed door, a blanket around your shoulders as you peek out. His headlights shine through the greyness. It’s still early by your count, unless you lost track again. 

He hops out and stomps through the snow. He waves at you as his hair curls out from under the cap you made him. He wears it every day. You’re happy for that. 

“Merry Christmas,” he calls out. 

“Christmas... it’s still two days away,” you stay behind the door to shield yourself from the winds. 

“Two days!” He claps as he approaches. “Since you gave me my gift early, I got yours ready too.” 

“Mine?” 

“Mmhm. You’re not the only one who can do surprises. So pack a bag.” 

“Pack...” you wonder. 

“Ah, ah, just get a bag, alright?” 

You can see him jittering in excitement. You hate to dampen that but you also feel bad. You made him a hat and scarf. He’s got something planned out that’s gonna at least cost him gas and his time. 

“Oh...” you murmur. 

“Don’t,” he wags a finger. “Really, come on! I wanna get there by dark.” 

“Alright, I’ll be fast.” 

You gently close the door and retreat. You can’t deny him. His words trouble you though. By dark? How far are you going? You don’t want him to do too much. 

You don’t have a lot to take. A few dresses that still fit, some stockings, your sole pair of boots, your coat, and other things just in case. It doesn’t sound like you’ll be coming back tonight. 

You come out in your coat and boots as Arvin keeps the truck idling. He meets you near the hood and takes your bag before he helps you up into the front seat. He gets in the other side and puts your bag between you. 

“Do I get a hint?” You ask. 

“Nope,” he shifts into gear. “Just hold tight.” 

💝

It’s a few hours before Arvin stops. Your eyes scour the sentinel pines all around and fall upon the painted wood of the cabin’s face. The porch pillars are stained a dark blue as the siding stands as white as the snow. It’s only the edgework along the window frames and door that make it visible amid the winterscape. 

You gasp, “Arvin?” 

“Surprise,” he exclaims. 

“What...” 

“My grandfather built this place. Ma’s dad. I been workin’ on it,” he proclaims. 

“Workin’ on it?” 

“Yep! Ma wouldn’t want you raisin’ that boy in a shed.” 

You mull his words and stare at the cabin. “Arvin, my aunt--” 

“I know, she’s a nice woman by the sounds of it. She can always come see us but you know, not many place around that’ll be as nice as her. Not when’s they see a mother with no husband.” 

You shrink down. He’s right. 

“But I’m not--” 

“Like I was saying,” he interjects, “you’re gonna be a mama. Means you need a proper house.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to argue. You don’t have any to offer as you reel in disbelief. Why would he do all this for you? It’s not his baby. You’re not his problem. 

He comes around and offers his hand. You climb out, gripping him tightly, as you flick away your tears. You sniffle and keep your head down as he leads you across the snowy yard. 

“You’re upset?” He asks as he kicks snow off the steps. 

“I’m... surprised,” you croak, trying to hide your face. “Arvin, it’s too much.” 

“Not much at all,” he counters. “But I got a new stove in and the fireplace real nice since I redid the bricks. And I got it all wired up to a gas generator.” 

“Oh,” you puff out as you climb the steps, still latched onto him. You hiccup as your tears flood over. 

“Oh?” He echoes. 

“Arvin,” you babble behind your hand. “Why-- why would you go and do all this for me?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” He tugs you toward the door. 

“But...” you choke on your words. 

You kick off your feet before you enter. He moves behind you, guiding you from behind with his hands on your arms. He stops you in a dark doorway. He lets go of you and you listen to him shifting around the dimness. He shines a flashlight into the front room. 

“Once I get the lights on, it’ll look better,” he assures. 

You shake your head, “it’s too much.” 

“Nothin’s too much,” he argues again. “Look, you need this place and you need me. You need a husband, don’t ya?” 

“Husband? Arvin, you can’t--” 

“I wanna.” 

“But--” 

“Baby boy’s not mine. No one else needa know. Them folks in Knockemstiff, the don’t go so far. And the next one will be mine. Maybe a girl--” 

“Next one?” 

“Uh huh, gonna give this one lots of brothers and sisters,” he puts his hand on your stomach. 

“I...” your heart sinks from on high. 

He’s quiet, measuring the silence as you do too. You peer into the front room then wince as he turns the light in your direction. You shield yourself as it shines in your eyes. 

“Well, you gonna tell me no?” His voice is low and silty. “Cause I don’t think no one’s gonna take you away from me. Ain’t no one else want you.” 

It’s like a knife sinking into your gut. Your frown and grab his hand, trying to shove it off your stomach. Why would he say that? He twists free of your grasp and clings to you instead. He turns the light under his chin so it casts his features in a sinister glow. 

“Without me, you and that baby’d be frozen to the side of the street,” he sneers. “All’s I’m tryna do is give you everything, you could at least do the same.” 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

So i read the ENA Prom!AU and hear me out....

So ENA is still going to the dance with someone else BUUUUT reader is going with a close friend of theirs, and so once ENA is dumped she gets really sad until she found out they're only going as friends and not as a date????

Omg I forgot about that one-

Imma do a rewrite of that fic but with the idea you mentioned (and I'll make the "close friend" Dream BBQ Ena, but for this fic she'll be called "∃NA" like it's stylized in the game).

.........

Prom night.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime event Ena was excited to participate in.

Everybody was allowed to attend...so long as they had a date, of course, as that was the only way they'd even be permitted to enter the building it was held in.

But that wasn't problem for her, as she found herself a date only a few days ago: a guy who she didn't know all that well, but has talked to her a few times between classes. So that was enough for him to be a familiar face; he was nice to her, and thus was considered a "friend" in her eyes.

Of all people, she never suspected that she'd be asked out to prom, so when he approached her with the question...obviously she couldn't refuse!

She couldn't be more eager for night to come--which was odd, since she never liked parties or huge social gatherings.

But this was an exception she was willing to make. Anything to make one more person in this school treat her like she's normal.

Once the pair were granted entry, Ena's grin only widened as she clung to her date's arm, eyes surveying the gym and everything going on within:

In one corner, she saw Phindoll wearing his best tuxedo, trying to woo a group of ladies with some advanced mathematical puns. In another, Shepard was trying to sneak pieces of turron while she kept an eye out for any potential messes.

Then she spotted you, Moony, and ∃NA hanging out together by the food tables, chatting about things she couldn't quite make out. But even so, she was glad to see another one of her kind attending the party.

All her friends were here.

Life was good.

"Ah, isn't this great? I wonder how we should best spend our time. I see delectable turron there! And the bowl of code just over there! Oh, so many possibilities!" She giggled, leaning on her date's shoulder. "What do you think, my dear acquaintance? Where shall we begin?"

"Oh..uh about that..." He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly in-place. "You mind letting go for a second?"

"Certainly! But...is something the matter?" Although confused, the polygonal woman listened, her eyes still shimmering with happiness. "I know. I'm nervous, too. But it's gonna be wonderful-!"

"Yeah, um..look, I only said I'd take you to the prom. They wouldn't have let me in otherwise." His gaze went to the corner, where he saw his friends hanging out. "Couldn't let them figure out I was emptyhanded, y'know?"

"Are you referring to your buddies over there? We should go meet them post haste-!" She went to take his hand, only to see him take a huge step away from her, and she frowned. "Huh? What's...What's wrong? Why are you acting this way?"

"Didn't you hear me? I said I'd take you here. I never said anything about being with you the entire time."

".....what..?" Her blue side took over as her shoulders slumped, the words slowly hitting her like a truck. "I don't...understand. I..I-I thought-"

"You seriously cannot be this dense...you really think I'd wanna be seen with someone like you? You know what that would do to my reputation?!" His voice became raised, and she brought her hands to her chest, cowering under his gaze.

"That's...not very nice. Wha..What did I do wrong? Did I say something offensive?? Is it...the way I'm dwessed?" Her voice trembled as she looked down at herself.

She was so excited about tonight that she picked out the best dress possible: one made of blue screens, pixelated popup clips on the straps, and ribbons of code wrapped around her waist.

But now she felt nothing but insecure about it.

He sighed, suddenly feeling bad for shouting. "No, it's not what you said. It's not how you're dressed. It's....It's you, Ena. I'm sorry. Don't take it personally. You're a nice girl, but I just needed a reason to get in here and be with my friends."

She felt her heart crack in two.

"B-But....but I-"

"Look, you can have fun by yourself. Do whatever you want. Just...stay away from me, alright? I'll see you in class sometime."

"Wait! Please don't..!!!"

Despite trying to reach out to him, her date--or rather her ex-date--walked off and disappeared into the crowd, pretending she didn't even exist.

Her yellow hand was grasping for air, although it flopped down to her side as she realized she was very much alone now.

She stood there for a moment, before an involuntary shudder took over her body.

Was she about to cry or vomit or both?

Apparently, it was option two as she felt white noise bile rise up in her throat, and she slapped both hands over her mouth. She sprinted out the nearest backdoor, hoping nobody would see or hear her.

She definitely didn't like this party anymore.

.........

"Ugh, why didn't I ask her when I had the chance?"

"Dunno, but get a load of this turron, dude! Eat your feelings away if you feel that bad about it."

"I still don't get the point of these stupid events. We're just wasting time...remind me again why you dragged me here against my will?"

"Because it's prom, Meanie. You'll never get another chance to attend it." Shaking your head in amusement, you glanced at ∃NA, whose meaner side wasn't at all thrilled to be here.

No, she wasn't your date, as she was too committed to her studies in business to pursue any relationship. Yet you convinced her that she could afford one night of joy, and she finally obliged--but only because you two were close friends. Otherwise, you would've had to drag her here kicking and screaming.

On paper, you two were listed as "partners", thus fulfilling the requirement to enter the building. While Moony somehow snuck in and hasn't been caught yet.

In truth, there was another member of her species here that you were hoping to ask out to prom....but unfortunately she was already taken by some random guy outside of your circle.

Ena was so excited about it, given how much she rambled and nervously asked for your opinion on the dress she had prepared, that you couldn't let her find out how disheartened you were upon hearing the news.

So you decided to go with ∃NA and introduce her to Moony. Her Salesperson side was taking the backseat for a while, as she got bored of doing inventory on random things and trying to pitch sales to uninterested attendees. For now, Meanie was here, mumbling and grumbling while chugging cups of code, wishing they were alcoholic.

"Say..I haven't seen that other Ena or her sleazeball of a "date" in a while." She huffed. "Something ain't right about that.."

"Yeah, I hear you.." Moony nodded in agreement. "I get nothing but bad vibes whenever I'm around that guy. Plus..he's kinda ugly. Why would she settle for that?"

"You say that about everyone, Moony." You chuckled, setting down your empty plate. "I'll see where she is and make sure she's alright. Don't kill each other over the last piece of turron while I'm gone."

"No promises." Meanie answered, immediately shooting the celestial entity beside her a look, which she returned in kind. "What, you oversized boulder? Got something to say?!"

"Woah there, lady. I'm a rock, thank you very much."

"Rock. Boulder. Stone....whatever!! It's all the same, ain't it?"

"Hahaaaa!! You're pretty cool, ya know that? I love your sass."

"...hmph. The feeling's mutual."

"....alright. I'll catch you guys later." You flashed a smile at them both, before heading off to search for your friend.

You prayed that Moony was wrong about the "bad vibes" that guy gave her, but usually she was correct about 99% of the time. Although you won't know for sure until you found her...

.......

It took awhile, and it felt like you were going on several different sidequests, but after asking around the gym, one attendee mentioned that they saw her running out the backdoor by herself.

That immediately worried you, and so you headed outside, where it was dark and particuarly chilly. The moment you clicked the door shut behind you, all of the music and chatter from the event went mute.

Not long after that, you heard two different noises fill the air.

They sounded like....glitched crying and sniffling?

'Oh no.' You didn't have to go very far to locate the source, as you eventually found Ena sitting alone on a bench illuminated by a single streetlight. Her back was turned to you, and she was sobbing loudly into her hands, static vomit scattered around the grass surrounding her.

It broke your heart deeply.

You felt terrible for even thinking about it, but somehow....you had a feeling that this exact scenario was going to play out.

She'd get her hopes up and believe she finally found someone who was nice to her. Someone who didn't judge her for her species....only to do the cruelest thing imaginable and leave her all alone again.

You didn't wanna believe it. You didn't wanna crush her happiness by warning her.

Now? You wish you did.

Quietly walking over to the bench, you sat down beside her. "Ena..." You rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, seeing the way she tensed up and immediately looked at you, tears flowing down the white half of her face. "What happened?"

"H-He...He used me to get into the pwom, [y/n]!!" She bawled. "He didn't wanna be seen wi...with "someone like me" and said I was huwting his weputation!! I should have known better...I-I'm too stupid and dense to think anyone would wanna go out with me! Why did I come here???? I SHOULD JUST GO HOME RIGHT NOW AND DIE!!! WOULD THAT MAKE HIM FEEL BETTER?!!!"

"No. Absolutely not. He's wrong about all of that." You brought her into a hug, and she buried her face into your chest, wailing and blubbering about how much she hated these social gatherings and listing every regret she had in life leading up to this moment.

Rubbing her back, you let her get it all out of her system, hoping she didn't go "full-sadness" on you.

The one time that happened, she was damn near inconsolable and ∃NA's Meanie side had to threaten her with violence to get her to calm down.

You didn't want it to come to that now, not over a broken heart of all things, but her skin was already turning light grey.

"He's a liar. And a total prick for treating you like a one-way ticket into this event. Anyone would be lucky to go out with you, Ena. I...I-I know I would be..." You muttered the last part quietly, your face growing a bit flushed.

Yet she heard you. "Bu...B-But you have ∃NA, don't you?" She mumbled depressingly, clinging to your [dress/suit]. "She's pwettier..more confident..isn't a jobless loser like me. You should go back to her and leave my misewable-self alone."

"You already know I'm not gonna do that, and besides...she's not actually my date."

"...wh..what..?"

"Yeah, we only had to present ourselves as a couple to enter. She didn't even want to come, but I insisted she took a break from her studies."

"S-So..you two are just...?"

"Friends. That's all. Nothing more. Honestly, I really wanted to ask you out before that guy did, and I was kicking myself for not speaking up sooner." The words spilled from your mouth before you could think. But you didn't care anymore. She needed to know.

It was enough to make her stop crying for the moment, as she looked up at you. "Really?"

"Mhm. Moony had a bad feeling about him. But you seemed so happy when you told me, and I thought...maybe he was a nice guy. So I let it go. Now I wish I hadn't...I'm sorry, Ena." You frowned slightly.

"No, it's...it's not your fault. I-I didn't listen, and...a-and now I'm a mess that you had to come clean up!!" She began sobbing again, falling back into your arms. "I wuined your night!! Like always...I'm sowwy..."

"No, honey. You didn't do anything wrong. The only one who ruined tonight was him." Shaking your head, you helped her sit up, brushing away the tears falling from her blue eye. You wish you could beat up that bastard for making her feel this way--like she was nothing--but you knew that's not what she'd want. It wouldn't solve anything.

"Come on. No man is worth your tears. He only cared about himself and his loser friends. He missed out on the chance to be with somebody as beautiful and kind as you. And I bet he's gonna regret ditching you every time he sees you in the halls."

Ena looked stunned by your words, sniffling as she tried to compose herself. Then you saw her face glitch back to its normal blue-yellow scheme, the former half still looking a bit sad. "I...have my doubts I'm either of those things. Did Moony put you up to this?" She squinted.

"Nah. She's mean sometimes, but she'd never stoop that low." You smiled, taking her hands into yours. "So before I forget...may I take you to prom and share at least one dance with you?"

She blinked in surprise. "R-Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes, really. The night's still young, and there's no line to re-register as a couple. But if you're not feeling up to it, we can go home. That's okay, too."

"No, no...this night shouldn't be spoiled by his ungentlemanly actions. Your words ring true." Her yellow half took over, smiling brightly as she threw her arms around you in a tight embrace. "Thank you for talking some much needed sense into me, [y/n]! I apologize for any distress I may have caused. I'll be your date! Absolutely!"

"Now there's the Ena I know." You laughed softly, hugging her back for a few moments before you both stood up and headed inside the building hand-in-hand.

Already people were gathered on the dancefloor, moving and swaying to the beat of the vaporwave music playing over the DJ's speakers.

Moony and ∃NA were still by the food tables, laughing together as if they've known each other all their lives, only to fall silent as they spotted you and Ena together in the center.

They glanced at each other once, and exchanged brief smiles, understanding what had happened and being glad she was with you and not that prick anymore.

Ena saw her celestial friend give her a wink, and her fellow polygonal entity raising a toast, causing her face to burn with a slight blush.

"Don't worry about them."

Feeling your hands grasping hers gently, all of her attention was redirected to you and your face. "Let's get through this one dance, alright?"

Without another word, she smiled back and nodded, allowing you to lead the way, focusing on nobody else but you and your footsteps.

You both ended up staying for a few songs, and it was a wonderful experience.

This night started off horribly, with someone who didn't think twice about abandoning her, and ended with someone else---the one who truly and deeply cared about her.

That was you.

it was you the whole time.

How silly of her to not realize that sooner.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

Ohh for the prompt maybe Edwin & Crystal friendship with number 11!?!?

Thank you for the prompt! I combined it with a paraphrased version of #28, which @coraline-piange requested for Edwin and Crystal.

11. “They shouldn’t treat you like that.”

28. “...I don’t hate you.” “...you don’t?”

Edwin finds her hiding out on the balcony, huddled in the dark while inside, music plays and her parents and their friends laugh and mingle. Crystal is torn between being annoyed that he followed her and being secretly, shamefully relieved. She wishes he hadn’t showed up in the middle of the party to ask her about a case, wishes that he hadn’t just seen her mother lay into her while all her parents' friends watched and tittered. But if he is here, she’s glad that he didn’t leave her alone.

He doesn’t say anything for several minutes, just folds his hands on top of the balcony railing and stays quiet. They stand side by side, watching the lights of the city far below. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wails and Crystal wonders if there will be a new ghost showing up at the Agency’s doors soon.

“They shouldn’t treat you like that,” Edwin finally says.

Crystal swallows back a snappish reply. Instead, she says, “What she said wasn’t totally wrong. I did burn every bridge my parents ever built for me. I’m the one who got kicked out of every fancy school they sent me to and alienated all my friends and made sure no college will ever let me in unless my parents toss a ton of money at them.”

“Perhaps you would have burnt less bridges if you hadn’t been left alone with so many matches.” There’s a bite to Edwin’s voice.

She snorts. “Why do you think they leave me alone so much? It’s because I’m kind of the worst.”

“That isn’t true.”

“You know it is. You hate me.” Her voice cracks embarrassingly.

“Crystal.” His voice goes gentle in a way that’s so un-Edwin-like that she has to turn to make sure it’s really him. He’s looking down at her with a worried crease in his brow. “Of course I don’t hate you. Do you really think I do?”

Crystal can’t bring herself to answer.

“I find you difficult, stubborn, and often exasperating, but I do not hate you.”

She lets out a hoarse laugh. “Yeah, because you’re famously not any of those things.”

“Charles did once say that you and I are a lot alike.”

“He did not.”

“He did.”

“He’s lucky he’s cute,” she mutters, which gets a soft laugh from Edwin.

“I realize that you seem to think you were some sort of monster before you lost your memories.” He holds up a hand to cut off her reply. “But I’ve never known you to be anything but kind and compassionate to those who are in need of it. You are a real asset to the Agency, Crystal, and I’ve come to be glad of your presence.”

Crystal thinks she might cry, which is just so fucking embarrassing. After everything else tonight, she doesn’t need to cry in front of Edwin Payne.

“And I don’t think your mother knows you half as well as she seems to think,” he adds. “Given that you were in Port Townsend for weeks without her or your father noticing you were missing. In the month since we returned to London, I can count on one hand the number of nights you’ve slept at their house. Mostly, you’ve slept on a couch in an abandoned building in the company of two boys that your parents do not know. Perhaps your mother should spend less time bemoaning the bridges you’ve burned and spend more time thinking about her own behavior.”

Crystal turns her face away so he won’t see the tears gathering in her eyes.

“I am sorry, Crystal,” Edwin says. “Truly. You deserve better.”

“Yeah, well.” She clears her throat and shrugs. “I bet they’d say they deserved a better daughter.”

“I cannot imagine they would have treated a ‘better’ daughter with any more care than they’ve treated you.”

“Maybe not. But maybe they would’ve wanted to.” Surreptitiously, Crystal wipes her eyes. “What were your parents like?”

Edwin is silent for a moment and she wonders if she’s said the wrong thing. Finally, he says, “My father had very few interests outside of hunting, hounds, and women. Since I shared none of those interests, we had little to say to each other. He got on much better with my older brothers, who were very much cut from the same cloth. When he did pay me any mind, it was usually to make sure I knew what a disappointment I was.”

“He sounds like an asshole.”

“Perhaps,” Edwin says. “My mother was better, I think. She liked to read. She used to read to me, until my father put a stop to it. He worried her novels would make me soft.”

“Jesus Christ.” Crystal wants to reach back a hundred years in the past and shake Edwin’s father.

“He never thought I would make anything of myself. I do wonder what he would think, if he were here.”

“I think he’d be proud of you.”

“Unlikely, but thank you.” There’s an edge of ruefulness in his voice. “Running a detective agency for ghosts is certainly not what he would consider an accomplishment. Particularly since I do not have a single hound or mistress.”

Crystal snorts. “Charles says he tried to convince you to get a puppy back in ‘94.”

“He does enjoy bringing home strays.” He doesn’t need to add the silent, “like you.”

“Do you miss them?” Crystal asks.

“Sometimes,” he says after another brief pause. “But I miss who they were when I was small, before I realized what a disappointment I was to them. If that makes sense?”

“It does.” She nods. “It’s like how I miss who I thought my parents were when I didn’t have my memories. When I thought they missed me and were looking for me.”

“I’m sorry they aren’t the parents you thought they were.”

“Yeah.” Crystal wipes her eyes again. “And I’m sorry yours were shitty too.”

Edwin blows out a breath.

Her lips twitch. “Too much emotion for one night?”

“Far too much.”

From inside the penthouse, there’s a burst of shouting.

“Ah.” Edwin sounds smug. “Perhaps we should take our leave now.”

Crystal turns to stare at him. He’s wearing the little smile that he only gets when he knows he just cracked a case open. Or when Charles compliments him. “What did you do?”

“There was an unfortunate incident involving a bottle of wine and one of your mother’s paintings.”

Crystal slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle her laugh. “Which one?”

“That hideously tacky self-portrait.” At her incredulous look, he shrugs. “I didn’t care for the way she spoke to you. And in front of guests, too.”

“You know that self-portrait was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, right?”

“Absurd. I wouldn’t trade it for Charles’s jar of bees.” Edwin sniffs. “Anyway, I’m a ghost. Even if she could see me, what is she going to do, sue me?”

The shouting inside gets louder.

“Yeah, we should definitely get out of here,” Crystal says.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He holds an arm out to her. “There’s a case to solve, after all.”

She links her arm through his. “Thanks.”

Edwin flashes a small, pleased smile. “It was my pleasure.”

*** 

Angst and Hurt/Comfort Prompts

I'm going to try and do more prompt fills here on Tumblr in the future, time depending, so if anyone would like to be added to a tag list, please let me know!

[paiges-1vur]

hey loves! heres another pazzi fic for you guys because i know you love pazzi fics as much as i do. <3 🏀🌌👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

“mm.. your not going anywhere. get back here” paige mumbled into azzis shoulder as she tightened her grip on her waist, pulling the girl towards herself.

“paige i have to get up i told you. i havent texted my parents all night, they are gonna think you kidnapped me,” the brunette jokes, giggling slightly. “paige- oh my gosh” the brunette says trying not to laugh, while also being slightly irritated that she cannot get up. she eventually gives into the blondes touch, smiling. “dont worry paigey im right here. not going anywhere.”

the two girls have been friends, teammates, and practically sisters for the past three years. they had both felt feelings for each other ever since they got closer, when paige was a senior in highschool. although they felt this way, they never told anyone except those who were very close to them. family, friends, and teammates were all very supportive but the girls didnt want to tell the media just yet. they liked keeping what they had special, and they didnt want the media to twist anything, their relationship was perfect the way it was.

“you better not,” paige mumbles. her voice is husky and low. “you know i miss you like a bitch when your not visiting right? i need all the azzi time i can get.” she says pulling the girl even closer to herself, earning a giggle from the brunette. “and you better come to Uconn, or else…” paige threatens azzi, jokingly.

“oh yea?” azzi asks smirking to herself. “and what would you do if i didnt commit next year..?” the older blonde gets clearly upset at the idea of being without the brunette and her demeanor quickly changes. before she knows it, azzi is being flipped over onto her back. paige hovers over her, smiling down at her. “take it back..” she taunts azzi.

“wha- paige” she says starting to laugh, “i was just joking i promise its not that serious.” she tries to escape from under paige to lie back down but only gets denied when paige grabs her wrists and pins them above her head. “hmmm” she says leaning into azzis ear. “i didnt like that joke, it wasnt very funny..”

“i-” azzi swallows. “i was just kidding paige..i-i already said that.”

“and i heard you the first time baby..” paige says leaning down to leave a trail of kisses down her jawline. “so i said take it back..” slowly her kisses move down to her neck. azzi throws her head back, allowing paige more access to her neck. paige lets out a low laugh at this, starting to leave little bites and marks all over her neck.

“it.. was just a joke. im not going to take it back” azzi doesnt budge. she doesnt understand why all of a sudden paige got so worked up, but shes not complaining. it was rare paige had her dorm to herself, but tonight was special. azzi loved cuddling, but she was secretly hoping that something different would happen tonight…

paige kept placing kisses and love bites on her neck, driving azzi wild. she took a hand and snuck it just under azzis sweatshirt, placing it just above the waistband of azzis sweats.. well technically paiges sweats. “paige-”

paige immediately stopped and looked up at azzi. “yes baby?” she was concerned about why azzi stopped her. did she want her to stop? maybe she wasn’t in the mood anymore, which would have been totally fine with paige, but that wasnt the case.

“i love you.” is all she said before putting her head back down on the pillow. paige smiled and broke the waistband of azzis sweats with her middle finger and ring finger. “i love you too baby.. just lay back for me”

sorry this is so short loves. congrats if you read all the way through, and any interaction is appreciated <3 please dont be shy to drop reqs in my anon, or message me! of course also dont be shy to be “too specific” i want to make you guys as happy as i can with my writing. tips also appreciated always