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timetothirst · 2 days

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Almost

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN reader

Inspired by this post that hasn’t left my head since I first saw it

Tags: Canon typical violence, you almost die, Ghost is soft in his own weird way, confessions, everyone needs therapy, i’m not British but i’m using British slang because it’s Simon’s POV, if i got any military stuff wrong no I didn’t, sad Ghost

Rating: M for violence and language

—————

You were dying when Ghost realized he loved you.

It started the same as it always did whenever he had to meet someone new, with a quick handshake and a short introduction before he inevitably found an excuse to walk away as soon as possible. He didn’t dislike you, not necessarily, but he was no social butterfly. You were just another face to him, that was all.

Until you weren’t.

He was having trouble sleeping. That was nothing unusual, though. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d got a full eight hours without some kind of interruption, whether it be an owl outside his window that wouldn’t shut up, an inability to get comfortable because of the countless aches in his body, his thoughts just being too damn loud, or something else entirely. Whenever this happened, he’d make his way to the common room and find some way to kill the time while he waited for everyone else, maybe even get breakfast started or put the kettle on if he was feeling nice.

It was on one of those nights, after he’d finished rummaging through the fridge looking for a decent snack, that he saw you. He went to sit on the couch, and there you were. He didn’t realize it was you at first and tensed up, instinctively reaching for his combat knife (which wasn’t there, of course, since he was in his sleep clothes). At first he was baffled. How did he not notice you coming in? He wasn’t losing his edge, was he? Letting his guard down?

But then he saw the half-eaten packet of crisps in front of you and realized you’d been there the entire time, sitting in the dark, in complete silence.

“Fuckin’ hell…say somethin’ next time, yeah?” He told you, finally allowing himself to exhale.

“Sorry, I didn’t know whether or not you were going back to your room, and I didn’t want to bug you, so-“

“S’fine.” He interrupted with a wave of his hand, sitting on the opposite end of the couch and grabbing the remote.

—————

“Am I missing something here? Why’s he acting so weird all of a sudden?” You asked, staring at the screen in confusion. This was the third question you’d asked in as many minutes, but Ghost didn’t seem to mind. At the very least, he wasn’t giving you death stares or walking away from you, so you figured it was okay.

“Pon farr.” He stated, not even glancing over.

“Am I supposed to know what that means? It sounds like a weird disease…” Ghost side-eyed you as you said this and scoffed quietly.

“No, it’s not a- look, just watch, will you? They’re about to explain it.”

You rolled your eyes, but did as he said anyway.

“Oh my god…so, he can only have sex once every seven years? And if he doesn’t, he’ll just…get really pissed off and fuckin’ die?” You laughed in disbelief, then ate the last of your crisps and tossed the empty packet into the trash.

“Nah, Vulcans can mate whenever they want. Pon farr’s just a biological thing that causes…well, s’ called plak-tow, but it translates to ‘blood fever.’ Means they’ll go mad if they don’t-“

You couldn’t help but snicker, slapping your hand over your mouth with a snort when Ghost’s head snapped toward you. He looked at you with an expression that could melt steel, which would have scared you shitless under any other circumstances.

“…Seen this one.” He grumbled as an explanation, looking away from you and back at the TV screen. He crossed his arms, his face hardening into its usual scowl.

“Yeah, I can tell.”

You spent the rest of the night asking Ghost increasingly complicated questions about the show, and despite his exasperated sighs and frequent eye rolls, he answered every single one.

—————

He just kept running into you, it seemed. Sparring, target practice, and of course, your late night binges of Star Trek, whenever the two of you happened to be up at the same ungodly hour. You sat on your designated couch cushions and laughed at the awful special effects as Ghost told you to ‘shut it and watch,’ though he was sure you could see him smiling through the fabric of his mask.

As much as he hated to admit it, as cliché as it sounded, his days really were a bit brighter with you around. You filled the silence when nothing else did, joked with him, spent time with him…he’d even noticed a few little things you had started doing, things that were specifically for him. Like the night he’d taken out a pack of smokes, only to realize that he’d lost his lighter. He groaned in annoyance and went to put them away, but then, there you were, holding out a lighter of your own, the small flame reflecting in your eyes.

“The lads and I must be a bad influence, eh? I swear I remember you tellin’ me that you don’t smoke.” He’d said to you after rolling up his mask just past his lips and taking a puff of his cigarette.

“I don’t. But you do.” You replied casually, shrugging as if you’d just said the most obvious thing in the world.

“And with the way you keep losing your lighters everywhere, you’re probably spending half your paycheck replacing them!” You added, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

Ghost rolled his eyes and told you to piss off, but he never bought another lighter after that.

—————

Price started pairing the two of you together on missions; citing the fact that you got along, as well as the way your combination of skills made you effective and deadly in the field. You were a good team, that was all. You got things done, and you got them done well, no matter the circumstances.

And then everything went to shit.

You had already suffered a dislocated shoulder and pretty bad slash wound, both to your dominant arm, so you were stuck clutching a pistol in one hand while the other dangled uselessly at your side. Almost all of the enemies had been taken care of at that point, but you were making a final sweep of the building in search of any stragglers.

Two seconds. Two goddamn seconds he looked away from you, but that was all it took. Five gunshots rang out in short succession, no doubt from an assault rifle of some kind. You screamed, shot a single round from your pistol, and two bodies thudded to the floor.

Ghost’s heart dropped. He charged into the room, looking around frantically. As badly as he wanted to rush to your side right that second, he knew he had to assess the situation first. He’d be of no use to you if he was dead, after all. The first thing he noticed was that you were breathing, and your attacker wasn’t, probably because they had a sizable hole in the side of their head. Ghost dropped to his knees next to you, trying to calm himself enough to properly check your wounds.

You looked so small lying there, curled up on your side with your face contorted in pain. A shudder wracked your body, blood beginning to pool as Ghost placed a hand on your shoulder. He gritted his teeth and turned you over. As expected, you screamed bloody murder, the movement causing your body to be jostled.

“Shit. Shitshitshitshit-” He muttered, his hands hovering over your body. Before he dared to do anything else, he reached for his radio.

“Bravo 0-7 calling for immediate medvac. Repeat, immediate medvac.” He spoke, unable to hide the tremor in his voice.

“Acknowledged. Requesting location.” A voice crackled over the speaker. He barked back your coordinates, along with an order to hurry the fuck up before disconnecting and turning his attention back to you.

“This is gonna hurt.” He warned.

He undid your vest, and his large hand immediately made contact with the most serious of your injuries, that being the bullet wound in your side. He pressed down hard in an attempt to staunch the bleeding as best he could, and your scream of pain was enough to make him feel as though he’d been shot himself. You seemed too shocked to speak, your breath coming out in short gasps, punctuated by anguished sobs.

“Shh. I know, I know…hey- look at me, yeah? Just keep lookin’ at me.”

Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he felt helpless. But here, now, as he stared down at you, it was the only thing he could feel. He wished he could be angry instead, but right now there was no one to direct that anger towards. Your attacker was lucky you’d managed to kill them before he got the chance to, or he’d have beaten them into a pulp with his bare hands and left them to rot where they fell as punishment for even fucking looking at you.

“Ghost-” You croaked out, your bleary eyes focusing on him momentarily. He shook his head.

“Simon.” He whispered, his own name feeling foreign on his tongue. You stared at him in confusion for a moment, but then your eyebrows raised and a look of realization appeared on your face.

“S…Simon?” You repeated. He nodded, tried to smile at you despite everything.

“Yeah…Simon.”

You smiled back through your tears and let out a laugh that quickly turned into a pained wheeze. “That bad, huh?”

Simon didn’t reply. He didn’t trust himself to. You’d see right through it if he lied, he was sure of it, but if he told the truth, he knew he’d break down on the spot. Instead, he gathered you into his arms and curled around you protectively, trying to keep your body warm to prevent shock.

With a start, he realized that this was the first time he’d ever held you.

“I think m’just gonna…rest for a few minutes, if that’s okay…” You breathed.

As he looked down at you, it was clear that you were struggling to keep your eyes open. He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, clutching you tighter and burying his face in your hair.

“No, no, no…not you. Anyone but you.”

Simon Riley had never been a religious man, but he prayed then. He didn’t know to whom he was speaking, but it didn’t matter. He only asked for one thing.

“Don’t let them die. Not here, not now. I’ll do anything. Give them more time. Take me instead if you want. I’ll go in their place, just let them live. Please.”

He knew he didn’t deserve you. He always had, really, but that didn’t mean you should be taken away so cruelly. You should have something so much better than this, better than a cold concrete floor slick with your blood and a man like him trying to hold you together while he himself was breaking from the inside out.

“H-Hey…”

Your voice broke through the haze, and he cursed under his breath, quickly wiping his eyes and lifting his head to look at you.

“Fuck. Sorry, I- i’m right here, love. I’ve gotcha. Nothin’ to worry about, yeah?”

You just nodded. Your eyes were barely open now, your chest still slowly rising and falling with your breaths. You felt around for his hand and grabbed it, the silence seeming to last forever as you considered your next words.

“…I’m really glad I met you.” You finally said.

“Don’t. Don’t start sayin’ shit like that. Makes it sound like you’re-“ He exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I can’t fuckin’ do this, alright? I know I can be an ass, and I know i’m not the best at sayin’ it, but…I need you.”

Simon looked down at you. You weren’t moving.

His time spent waiting for medvac to arrive was a blur. He held you tight, begged you not to leave him even though he wasn’t entirely sure whether or not you could hear. And when the medics did finally show up, they practically had to wrench your limp body out of his grip.

He had to take a separate transport back to base. he sat alone and stared at his hands, watching your blood slowly dry.

——————

Simon lurked outside the door to your hospital room like- well, a ghost. When the doctors finally deemed you well enough to take visitors, he was at your side, like a loyal dog lying at its master’s feet. He held your wrist in a loose grip the entire time he waited for you to wake up, his thumb pressed against your pulse point so that he could be sure your heart was still beating.

It felt like ages that he waited for you. He didn’t even know quite how long he did, actually. He only left your side once, and that was for a shower in freezing water where he scrubbed his skin raw because he was unable to stop seeing the red covering it.

When you finally stirred beneath him, Simon thought he was dreaming. He stared at you with a mixture of disbelief and blind hope, and then you finally opened your eyes. After days, he finally felt like he could exhale. He let himself fall forward, his head coming to rest on your shoulder as he shook ever so slightly.

“God…don’t you ever do that to me again, got it? Thought i’d lost you.”

You reached up and started to rub circles into his back, choosing not to mention the fact that your hospital gown was damp with tears.

“Simon, I-“

He shushed you, rolled up his mask and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple.

“You made it, that’s what matters. You made it back t’ me.”

“And I always will.”

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #angst #fluff #writing #swords’s stories

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pantrygeist · 9 months

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You know, I considered keeping these in my inbox, make it an aquarium, but I think it's best if I set them free Just look at how shiny they are!! Absolutely lovely little dudes, I love their coloring and frilly fins

#thank you so much for sending me these!!#they made my week tbh #goofy little fellas #Their names are really interesting too! They are also called 'Devils Hole Fish' in english #And 'Teufelskärpfling' in german which roughly translates to 'Devils finfish' in english #They are about 2 to 3 cm long which is like one or two inches I think? I have no idea about inches and all that #The individuals in this image are (as seen in the file name) male which can be seen in their blue color; in general they are silvery white #(with in general I mean outside the mating season; the female fish are silver all the time iirc)#They are endangered and only live in one place which is also where they were discovered around 1830? or 1890...or 1930? I hate numbers :(#it's one of those I'm sure #That place would be a limestone basin above a warm water source called the Devils hole (hence the name of the fish)#That water source is located 15m underneath the ground and the basin above it is about as big as a small room I'd say #People have tried to grow the population artifically but it failed which is tragic since the population in that basin is still declining #as far as I know at least; it's possible I missed something and it went back up again but last I knew there were like only... 110 of them?#This is because of a pump station located very closely to this Devil's hole (can you see I find that name is amusing?)#is stopping the water in that basin from rising; and therefore endangering the habitat of these fish #The close by Hover Damn is also responsible for this and researching this I did not expect this name to pop up #Fallout New Vegas follows me everywhere it would seem #And also! They eat diatoms which are some funky looking things as well! Algae if I remember correctly #I highly highly highly recommend looking at pictures of those #They are pretty pretty; trust me on this #Also; and feel free to ignore this; but these guys give me Mirage and V1 from Ultrakill vibes #based on the color mostly #Although really; show me anything blue and metallic and I will find a way to make it about them #Don't even get me started on color associations; I will not shut up and that is a promise #I could make one of those 5 hour breakdowns of why which shade of any color makes me think of the little idiots that occupy my mind 24/7

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agirlsguidetolove · 8 months

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I THOUGHT YOU KNEW

pairings: theodore nott x reader

word count: 0.9k

summary: “i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”

Theodore Nott had dead eyes. That was something you had learned early on in your friendship with the boy; never expect his eyes to tell you anything. But, right now, you couldn’t help but wonder if your own advice was wrong because the look he was giving you in the moment was the farthest thing to dead. Alive.

Theodore’s eyes were ablazed, like you had lit a match in his face just as he had done with his cigarettes the night before. They looked on fire as he glared off at you, standing and chatting with some Ravenclaw boy who had decided to make the stupid of going to a slytherin party and talking to Theo’s girl.

It was a common fact that you and Theo had something, everyone knew. Well, maybe except for you.

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t expected for Theodore to waltz up to you and your new friend and throw an arm over your shoulder, and stand and listen to you too talk, not saying a word.

“Think we should get out of here?” Was the first thing he said to you, well, whispered into your ear, pulling you closer.

“I’m okay here, Teddy,” you said. Theo visible softened, melting into you at the nickname only you were allowed to call him. “You can go, though. I’ll be alright, promise.”

Theo smiled at you as you patted his arm that was wrapped around your shoulder, watching as your attention drifted back to whoever this guy was. He sighed.

“I know,” Theo started before your Ravenclaw friend interrupted.

“Yeah, mate, we’ll be okay,” he said. Theo hardened, dead eyes becoming colder as he took his arm off your shoulder, stepping forward and shoving the guy.

“Was I fucking talking to you, mate?” he spit.

“Woah!” you cut, pulling Theo back with your hand to his chest, “What the hell, Theo?”

“Yeah,” the Raveclaw pants. “What the hell, Nott? Calm down!”

Theodore sneers, glaring harshly ate the boy before hissing, “Fuck off,” and pushing past him and bumping his shoulder aggressively as he makes his way out of the common room.

Staring of at his fuming figure you quickly apologize to the boy before chasing off after Theo. When you find him, he’s angrily pacing through the hallway, running a hand through his hair.

“Theo,” you state angrily. Theo’s head whips to where you stand before shaking his head and choosing to walk away from you and down the hall.

“Theo!” you yell, walking quickly behind him. “What the fuck was that about? Can you wait for a second and talk to me?”

Theo stops, allowing you to catch up to him. You can practically see the steam coming out when he turns to you. “What am I supposed to do?” he asks bitterly. “Just let him flirt with you?”

“What?” you ask, just as bitter. “What are you talking about? Why’d you have to fucking shove, Dylan?”

Dylan. Theodore scoffs, getting madder by the second. He takes a step closer, towering over you. “So I’m just supposed to stand there when some prick is running up on my girlfriend!”

Girlfriend? What the hell was he on about. “Girlfriend?” you question, softer.

“Yes! You’re my girlfriend!” Theodore shouted. He just wasn’t getting it, was he?

“What?” you spluttered. “Since when?”

“What,” Theo got quieter.

“i didn’t know…” you said. “when did we start dating?…o-officially?”

“You didn’t know?” he repeated, incredulous. “I… I thought… I thought you knew?”

“You thought I knew we were dating?” You were getting louder, voice echoing off the walked.

“Yes!” Theo yelled, eyes getting sadder.

“How would I know that, Nott, you never told me!”

Theodore shakes his head, again getting gentle. “Don’t start calling me ‘Nott’ now, angel, you don’t do that.”

“Theo,” you reiterated, taking a breath. “When did we— when did we start ‘dating’.”

Theo looks like a kicked puppy when he says, “Last trip to Hogsmeade. We kissed.”

Looking at the ground, you say, “Just because we kissed doesn’t mean we’re dating.”

“To me, it did!”

“You kiss plenty of girls that you’re not dating!” you argue.

Theo scoffs, “They’re not you, now are they?”

“Teddy,” you say, tears quickly forming in your eyes. Looking up at him, he purses his lips, heart breaking in his chest. “Why couldn’t you have just asked me to be your girlfriend?”

“Love, I… I thought you knew, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, hugging yourself with your own arms, still holding in your tears. “Well, I didn’t.”

It’s silent between you both for a moment, nothing but you staring at the floor and Theo staring at you. Theo takes a small step forward, his hands touching where you hold yourself. “Would you?” he says, “Be my girlfriend, if I asked?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, looking up at him, “if you’d ask, you dick.”

Theo chuckles, dipping his head low and putting his lips against yours. His lips are so soft, despite how he tastes like liquor and cigarettes. He breaks apart from you, hand coming to caress your cheek. “Would you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, I would.”

not proof read 🧸

i 🫶 theo nott

#theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #teddy #teddy nott #theo #theodore #harry potter #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle #slytherin x reader #slytherin

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loveluvrs · 14 days

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the slip up l lando norris x reader

request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream

author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.

Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time.

“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next.

“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare.

—————

A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute.

I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends.

I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress.

Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile.

Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement.

“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream.

When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream.

I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend.

I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.

“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.

I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.

“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle.

“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side.

“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagines #lando norris oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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papercorgiworld · 4 months

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Pansy’s interrogation

Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle

Weird behaviour and rumours have Pansy asking questions and figuring out who the guys are crushing on.

Warning: Mattheo says a foul thing.

I feel like I’m spamming tumblr with unasked for fic’s, like I’m anxious that I’m bothering everyone, but at the same time: here’s another unasked for fic. Also, English is not my first language and this is not proofread, so feedback is very welcome.

For more interrogations: click here

For more Theodore: click here

For more Mattheo: click here

Theodore Nott

“Rumor has it you are tutoring first years?” Pansy sits down next to Theodore with a cup of tea in her hand, carefully stirring. Theo growls, he knew this was coming, he knew Hogwarts was notoriously fast when it came down to gossip, but it hadn’t even been a day. Pansy raises her eyebrows, her way of saying ‘spill it, I want to know’.

“So?” Theo simply shrugs trying to downplay it and thereby hoping to avoid spilling his hidden agenda.

“Not really your thing, is it Notty-boy?” Pansy playfully ruffles through Theo’s hair. He immediately gets her hand out of his hair and tries to comb it back to its regular mess with his fingers. “It earns Slytherin points.” Theo finally explains when his hair is remodeled.

“Earning Slytherin points?” The girl huffed, clearly not falling for his excuse. “If you really cared about our house points you would start attending class, stop doing drugs and getting caught, and you would keep Riddle out of fights instead of getting him into more fights.”

Theodore frowned and forced his lips into a line. “Keep Riddle out of fights, who do you think I am, the pope?!” Pansy shakes her head. “Don’t try to change the subject.”

Theo looks away and feels saved when he sees Draco approaching them with his usual dramatic walk. He should be enough distraction for Pansy. “Theo, I heard you’re tutoring first years?” Right. How could I forget, he’s Hogwarts' second biggest gossip.

Enzo joins the group now that the entire common room knows Theo is a tutor thanks to Draco. “Really?” Enzo quips and Theodore simply nods. “(Y/n) must be so pleased that you’re helping out with her tutoring project. She had trouble finding capable and willing volunteers.”

Draco huffs at Enzo’s oblivious reaction. “Theo is so whipped for (y/n).” Pansy mouths an OMG at Theo who immediately realizes he will never hear the end of this.

Suddenly Blaise and Mattheo arrive. “Mate, you tutoring first years?” Mattheo asks, ignoring everyone else and with a very confused expression. Theo sighs and lets himself sink in the sofa, wishing it would swallow him. “If you’re tutoring? Why don’t you help me?” Blaise adds a little offended.

“Apparently, Theo is only doing this to earn points… with (y/n).” Pansy explains with an unmistakable grin on her face. Theodore rolls his eyes and stares at the ceiling for a moment. I need a smoke. And new friends.

Mattheo Riddle

Pansy flops down next to Mattheo who up until then was enjoying his quiet time lounging on his favorite couch in the Slytherin common room. Mattheo doesn’t recognise Pansy’s presence and simply continues reading his book.

Pansy’s smirk grows wide, she’as already enjoying herself and she hasn’t even started interrogating her victim yet. She turns herself to face Mattheo’s side and dominantly places her arm on the back of the couch behind him. Now he’s closed in the game begins.

“I hear it’s been a while since you’ve had a shag?” Annoyance fills Mattheo’s eyes as he stops reading just to stare in front of him.

“I’m assuming everything *pansy gestures to everything between his legs* is still working fine. So… No luck on the market ?” Mattheo’s eyes roll to the corner of his eyes to stare at Pansy.

“Pans, don’t.” Mattheo returns his gaze back to his book.

“You must get frustrated? Getting no release.” A heavy breath leaves Mattheo’s chest. He really didn’t like it when Pansy played her games.

“Oh, but he has plenty of Willing Witches magazines. He gets by.” Blaise jumps to take a seat on the couch opposite of Mattheo and Pansy, spreading his arms to take up the whole couch. Mattheo’s jaw clenches clearly not amused by his friend's humor. When Pansy giggles, Mattheo can’t help but feel exposed and blush a little.

“Why do you care?” Mattheo finally breaks, giving Pansy his full attention.

“I want to know why you’ve been playing boring at every single party for the last few months. Girls talk, you know.” Mattheo rolls his eyes. “Girls talk? Wow, that’s news.” His sarcasm had a poisonous undertone.

“If the guy wants to be on his best behavior, let him, Pans.” Blaise cuts in, attempting to get Pansy off Mattheo’s case.

“Why? Why are you suddenly done with manwhoring about?” As every part of Mattheo’s body tensed, Pansy threw a quick glance over to Blaise to affirm her suspicion: she was onto something.

Acting quick and avoiding a witty or snappy comeback from Mattheo, Pansy moved a little closer to Mattheo. She let her head fall to the side and put up an innocent face. “Are you trying to impress someone?” Mattheo’s dark eyes shot at hers. “Ah, that also explains why you’ve been attending classes more often.” She added enjoying how the puzzle pieces were falling together. “And, it’s been a while since you’ve had detention for fighting. Oh please, don’t tell me, are you trying to convince (y/n) that you’re a good boy?!”

As soon as Mattheo heard your name his face went from cold and annoyed to shocked and horrified. It lasted only for a second, his dead eyes were even more furious than before. “Pansy. If it ain’t for sucking dick then I advise you keep your mouth shut. Now, go bother someone else.”

Pansy was used to harsh language, but Mattheo’s denigrating tone made her tense. “I wonder what (y/n) will think about your foul mouth.” Pansy got up, pleased now that she knew what made Mattheo tick. Mattheo on the hand was frustrated that he led himself get played by Pansy’s games like this.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson #papercorgiworldwritings

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charliemwrites · 2 months

Text

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl — part 3

(I seriously need to come up with an actual name for this series before it sets in)

Introducing his grand horniness- John “Soap” MacTavish

It’s been six, coming up on seven, dates with Kyle. A dwindling part of you feared that after the absolutely mind-blowing night you two shared, he’d ghost you or something.

But nope, the morning after was spent in one of his jumpers, receiving kisses and breakfast and tea. The two of you watched movies all day until he drove you home, kissing you at the door. He let you keep his jumper.

Not three days later, he invited you to a movie you’d both been excited to see, and giggled over the popcorn bowl like teenagers. He didn’t even mind that you leaned over to whisper during certain parts, or the ramble you went on afterwards. (When you apologized for overanalyzing and talking so much, he gave you a bizarre, almost offended look. “Don’t you dare stop,” he huffed, “you’re way better than radio. What did you think about that after credit scene?”)

A few days after that, he called with apologetic news.

“Being shipped out for a couple weeks. Shouldn’t be anything too dangerous, and I’ll call when I can,” he explained.

You told the nervous little twist in your gut that you knew this about him. That this is Kyle’s job, not a convenient excuse to ignore you.

“Stay safe regardless,” you murmured earnestly into the phone. “I‘ll… I’ll miss you, Kyle.”

“You’re getting the biggest hug when I get back, darlin’,” he promised.

He kept to it too. Called at odd hours sometimes - once during dinner with your fiance even. But Brandon is always taking random calls nowadays, so you figured, given the circumstances, it’s not such a big deal to excuse yourself either.

On the other end of the call, Kyle sounded a bit tired, but happy to talk to you. He couldn’t tell you anything about what he was doing, but shared some smaller, safer details. That the tea was shite because Soap kept over-steeping it. That his lieutenant was big enough to body slam him during sparring practice. That Captain Price wishes you well and promises to bring Kyle back in one piece.

You even heard one of his teammates in the background, asking Kyle if he was “chirping at his new bird.” Soap, as you found out. They sound like a good bunch.

When Kyle comes back, you offer to welcome him at his apartment. You bring a little plate of cookies and a pack of his favorite beer, hoping it’s not too much. But when he opens the door, his expression melts before he scoops you up in the big hug he promised.

“You’re a fuckin’ dream, ya know that?” he murmurs, tucking his face against your neck.

You spend the whole weekend with him, kissing at the stitched-up knife wound on his muscled arm. Otherwise, all in one piece.

“Would you… want to meet my mates sometime?” he asks as you’re getting dressed for work Monday morning.

“Of course,” you reply instantly. Realize that might be too eager. “If you want to introduce me, that is.”

“I want to show you off to the bloody Queen, babes.”

You giggle, crossing the room to drop a quick kiss on his lips. He tries to draw you in for something deeper, but you wiggle and swat at him, complaining that he’ll make you late.

It’s good, you think. Blissfully good. Honeymoon phase, maybe, but considering how far off your actual honeymoon is, you feel like you deserve this. Kyle is a wonderful partner - kind, attentive, respectful. He listens, he cares, he’s independent of you and respects your boundaries. Sometimes you can’t believe you were ever nervous about this open relationship thing in the first place.

On Wednesday of that same week, Kyle tells you that Soap is going to visit and is eager to meet you. He was thinking dinner and drinks, come back to Kyle’s apartment afterwards. You readily agree.

The next day, a bouquet comes in. It’s a beautiful, though not extravagant, arrangement. Calla lilies, roses, and hydrangeas. The note that comes with it says, “Wanted to make a good first impression in case Kyle told you lies.” It’s signed “Johnny.”

You send a picture to Kyle, amused and a bit endeared. It brightens the rest of your day so much that you barely notice Lucy’s usual snide comments.

On Friday night, Brandon is unexpectedly home. Usually he doesn’t even come home from work on Fridays anymore - or at least he didn’t before you met Kyle. Lately, you only pop in if you’ve forgotten something for your overnight bag. You had to stay late at the office today, though, and your apartment is closer than Kyle’s.

“Was thinking we could go out tonight,” he tells you.

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. Not just by the invitation, but by the mix of emotion in your gut. Some of it is excitement and relief, but not as much as you’d expect. It’s warring with unease and reluctance, a bit of frustration that now of all times he wants to reconnect.

“Um, raincheck?” you offer, smoothing down your dress. It’s a new one you picked out with Kyle; you’re hoping he (Kyle) will notice. “I have plans.”

Brandon’s brow furrows, smile going tight. “You can’t reschedule?”

God you hate confrontation and he knows that, doesn’t he? Why is he pushing?

“Well I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again,” you explain.

Suddenly the tension in his shoulders eases. “Oh, is it a few people then?”

“Just a couple. I’m meeting one of them for the first time.”

“Have fun then,” he says, fishing his phone from his pocket. Like you’re not even there anymore.

You blink, then your phone buzzes with a message from Kyle and you hurry out the door.

“I knew you’d look terrific in that dress,” he says as soon as he sees you.

Thoughts of Brandon, that strange interaction, and those churning feelings all disappear in an instant. Kyle just has a way of soothing you.

The restaurant is one that has quickly become one of your favorites with Kyle. Good food, good drinks, quiet and relaxed atmosphere. You like the funky artwork and squishy booths.

Soap (Johnny?) has already gotten your party a table, and stands as the two of you approach. You nearly stop right there, and then almost trip a bit as momentum urges you onwards. Manage not to make a fool of yourself, but you still boggle at him.

Because Kyle? You thought he was a fluke. Just too handsome to be real, never mind tall and fit and friendly and— well, anyway.

You thought he was a fluke.

But Soap/Johnny is goddamn handsome too! Trim stubble, pretty eyes behind thick lashes, a soft-looking Mohawk that gives him a boyish charm without seeming immature.

“There you two are, thought ye stood me up!” he greets, drawing Kyle into one of those friendly man-hugs with the shoulder pats that look like they hurt.

“Youre a cheap date anyway, MacTavish,” Kyle replies, gently easing you forward with a hand on the small of your back.

“Och, don’t bad mouth me in front of a lady,” Johnny/Soap complains, then turns his twinkling gaze to you and offers a hand. “John MacTavish, but this bampot calls me Soap.”

“Not Johnny?” you ask curiously.

You take his hand, find callouses similar to Kyle’s. But his palm is a bit broader, a scar along his thumb - from a burn it looks like. Just as warm, just as careful. A firm, but not tight shake.

“You can call me anything you like, lass,” he says. From the corner of your eye, you see Kyle choking back a laugh. Johnny it is, you figure.

“Wait ‘Soap’ is a callsign right?” you ask as Kyle herds you into the booth.

“Right-o,” Johnny replies, smiling.

“Does Kyle have one?”

The grin that he gives you would make the devil sweat. As it is, Kyle groans and shoots you a betrayed look.

“Oh does he, lass.”

You light up, grin right back. “Tell me?”

“As if I could say no to a pretty face like that!”

And so begins a long, warm, perfect night. Johnny is great company. Welcoming and friendly, quick to smile, sharp witted. You could sit all night listening to him and Kyle quip at each other, but they’re so careful to keep you included and engaged.

Johnny even offers you some of his chips when his order comes, and you’re too delighted to say no. Not that Kyle seems to mind, encouraging you to steal a couple for him since Johnny keeps whacking his hand away.

The night ends back at Kyle’s. You whip up another batch of cookies with some suspiciously new-looking baking ingredients. The boys keep you company while you work — Kyle mixes the batter when your arm gets tired and Johnny keeps your wine glass full. In the end, you let them each get a lick of the dough spoon.

Eventually, you move to the couch, climb on together. Kyle, for some reason, scooches you into the middle instead of one of the ends, but you don’t mind and neither does Johnny, it seems. They argue over a movie to put on, but it doesn’t matter because the three of you talk through most of it anyway.

The second movie is your pick, which is your downfall. You barely get halfway through before dozing off. End up stirring to muffled laughter and harsh whispering. You’ve slumped into Johnny, you realize, seeing Kyle’s broad smile.

“Oh,” you hum, trying to sit up. “‘M sorry…”

“You’re alright, lass,” Johnny murmurs, gently nudging you back down.

“Kyle?” you ask, yawning.

“Still watching the movie, sweetheart. You can go back to your nap. Soap’s nice and warm, yeah?”

You hum, snuggle in again. He is comfy. “So are you.”

Another quiet chuckle. “I know, love.”

He rouses you later — the movie must be over, you think blearily. Kyle scoops you up, plants a kiss on your cheek as you tuck in.

“Say good night to your teddy bear, baby.”

“‘Night, Johnny,” you mumble, nuzzling your face into Kyle’s neck.

“‘Night, bonnie.”

You wake first the next morning — rare and precious. Kyle is lying behind you snoring softly, arm around your waist. You wiggle around to watch his sleeping face for a minute, appreciating the peace in his features. Drop a whisper-soft kiss on his cheek and then slip out of bed.

He grumbles a bit, but you coo at him to go back to sleep and he subsides quickly. Once you’ve freshened up in the bathroom, you pad out to the living room. Johnny is up as well, watching tv on low volume with a coffee on his knee.

“Mornin’,” he says.

“Good morning,” you chirp back, continuing for the kitchen.

“You’re up early,” he observes, following.

“Slept well,” you reply, grinning. “Thanks in part to you. I hope that wasn’t uncomfortable.”

He ducks his head a bit, a light flush blooming across his ears and cheeks. “Nah, can’t complain about a pretty girl fallin’ asleep on me. Means I must have made a good impression, eh?”

“Oh! That reminds me - those flowers were gorgeous. Did you know calla lilies are my favorite?”

“Aye, Kyle’s been talkin’ about ya nonstop since ye met.”

It’s your turn to flush, and much brighter. You hurriedly turn to the cabinets.

“Well, thank you. I loved them.”

“Yeah? I’ll send you more then.”

Startled, you whip around on him, mouth stupidly open as you try to find a response. “You really don’t have to do that!”

“But what if I want to?”

And if you were struggling for words before, you’re hopeless now. So you just throw your hands up with a little “gah” sound and turn back to gathering ingredients.

“What are we making?” Johnny asks, taking mercy on you. Not that using that sly “we” isn’t devastating to your composure.

“My super special flapjack recipe,” you answer. “Could you get that big bowl down for me?”

He steps past you to do so while you dig out the measuring spoons from the dishwasher.

“If they’re as good as your cookies, then I’m gonna need extra PT after this weekend.”

“Good,” you reply, smug, “that’s my goal.”

“Dangerous woman.”

You snort, holding up a wooden spoon. “Oh yeah, I’m a real threat brandishing cooking utensils at a special ops guy.”

“Och, don’ sell yourself short - my nan used to be a menace with those things!”

Kyle exits the bedroom fifteen minutes later to the smell of cinnamon and his best friend with a face full of flour.

“…Do I even want to know?”

“Just be glad she’s on our side, Garrick.”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #get it? misters plural. because they all steal that girl #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #johnny mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #Brandon the crash dummy

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va1entinesg4l · 2 months

Text

you’re my fucking star

pairing: charles leclerc x model!reader

summary: what happens when Charles meets his celebrity crush?

warning: tiny bit of fluff, f! receiving, slight breeding kink

Charles always had his eye on you. Even during his teenage years, watching you grow up to be a model. In interviews, he’s mentioned having a crush on you, how he’d wish to meet you. He’s been to a few shows to watch you, you were absolutely stunning. He’s even bought a few magazines that has you on the cover.

He was staring again, a Nova Cora crêpe satin dress made by Vivienne Westwood hugging your curves perfectly, your hair flowing down your shoulders, your smile lighting the room up. He takes notice of every single detail about you.

The party was at the Mclaren driver’s house and you were invited. Lando and you had been childhood best friends and he always invited you to watch his races which to everyone’s surprise, they figured you were both dating which made Charles’s blood boil.

“You alright, mate?” Charles snaps out of his trance when he heard Carlos’s voice, turning around to see him handing a glass of champagne.

“M’ fine.” Charles grumps as he downs his champagne, keeping his sharp gaze on you when Lando comes from behind, placing a palm on your back.

Carlos shrugs at his grumpiness before heading off for another glass of champagne. Charles was left in his thoughts, wondering if he should make a move.

You could feel Charles’s gaze burning a hole through you, little did he know. Lando knew that he had a thing for you but he never says anything about it. You excuse yourself from the conversation as you head to the restroom and Charles took that opportunity to follow you.

Your heart slightly jumps when you see Charles leaning against the wall, straightening his back when he sees you come out of the bathroom.

He clears his throat, “Sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you. I was just-”

“Following me?”

Charles’s cheek burn with embarrassment, quickly denying the fact that he was following and watching you. You smile at his expression, ‘cute’ you thought.

“I just need to use to restroom as well.” What a shit lie, Charles. He mentally curses in French, making you giggle. “At the women’s bathroom?”

“N-No, I um. I wanted to ask if you’d join me for dinner tomorrow night.” Charles was nervous, it might seem a little rushed, considering he followed you to the bathroom just to ask you out, he could’ve waited till the night ended but he didn’t.

Your heart flutters in surprise and so did your answer.

“I’d love to, Charles.” Charles couldn’t help but let out a sheepish smile, his heart feeling giddy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” He smiles before you give him a nod, walking back to the crowd as he watches the way your body moves.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It was the night you were having dinner with Charles. You liked Charles, more than you expected. Those sneaky glances he gave when he thought you wouldn’t notice, those nice gestures he made whenever he tried to impress you.

You felt the same way he did, ever since he made his debut in formula 2. The first time you actually met him was when Lando won his first podium, everyone was rushing to take pictures of him, bumping into each other when you bumped into Charles, a digital camera of yours that you dearly loved slipping from your hands.

It broke and Charles couldn’t help but feel bad. You shrugged it off saying it was fine but Charles insisted on buying a new one for you, which he did.

He left it for you in the Mclaren garage, a small apology note that wrote,

‘sorry for breaking your camera, hope this one fills new memories, C.L.’

Reading that note instantly made you fell for him. You never told anyone, not even Lando.

You arrive at the restaurant Charles insisted on going, walking inside as you glance around to look for him. There he was.

The sight of him wearing a suit with those glasses made your clit throb, you kept a straight face before walking over to him. He sees you and his smile beams, he gets up from his seat, pulling your chair out for you to sit.

You smile, giving him a small thanks as he sits down as well.

“tu es magnifique..” you look beautiful. He mutters, his gaze taking every inch of you, his heart pounding in his chest.

“tu es beau toi-même.” you look handsome yourself. Charles stops, looking at you in surprise. He didn’t expect you to speak French. “You speak French?” He grins.

You laugh softly with a nod, shrugging. “You could say that.”

Charles lets out another grin, the love of his life a gorgeous woman who spoke French as well, you have him on a tight leash.

This is going to be a long night.

You were glad dinner went well with Charles tonight. You both spoke about your dreams, your hobbies, your careers, anything to know about each other. You listened to him explain about his love for driving, how it’s because of his late father.

You were both on the way back to his apartment, the ride silent as the soft music plays through the radio.

Charles sneaks a glance when he notices the way you bit your lip, the way your thighs were clenched. Blood rushing straight to his cock. He keeps his attention to the road, his mind filled with the thoughts of fucking you.

He parked his car in the driveway, opening the car door for you as he leads you inside his apartment. It was comfy, there were pictures of him hung up on the wall. His trophies arranged nicely on the cabinet.

He watches the way your hips move and he swallows hard, trying his best not to bend you over the couch and fuck you.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks and you shake your head, “I’m alright, thanks.”

Your breathing becomes shaky when you face Charles, his body moving towards yours as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you swore you felt his hard cock pressed against your clothed pussy.

“Charles..” you whisper, your breath hitting his.

“Hm?” his eyes find yours, his fingers sliding down your back, goosebumps starting to form on your skin. He’s wanted this for years, to touch you, to taste you.

“Fuck me, Charles.”

That’s all he wanted to hear. He lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist before he lays you down on the couch, pulling your legs apart before he starts kissing the insides of your thighs.

His nose nudges your clothed pussy before he rips your panties off, sucking on your clit.

You throw your head back, letting out pornographic moans as he continues to lick your pussy.

“So fucking sweet.” He murmurs, sucking harder which makes you clamp your thighs around his head but his hands keeps a firm grip on them to hold you down.

You were a whimpering mess, so close to coming. Charles then slides in two fingers and you moan, gripping his hair tighter before he groans. He could feel you clenching around his fingers and it only takes five seconds for you to cum when he whispers.

“Come for me, jolie fille.” pretty girl. And you do, your cum dripping down his fingers and he licks them clean, groaning at how sweet you taste. “So sweet, baby.”

Charles then undos his pants, letting it drop to the floor. His cock hard, the tip red and swollen before he slides inside of your slick, wet pussy. “Charles!” you gasp, shutting your eyes as he starts to fucks you.

“You’re so fucking tight, mon ange.” my angel. He pants out, his glasses fogging up made him look hotter and you lean in, smashing your lips against his, his tongue slipping in to taste you.

You both were close to coming, the sound of your skins slapping filled the room. Charles couldn’t take it anymore as he whimpers out.

“Cum for me, baby.” You let out a cry of pleasure, arching your back as you finally cum. His cum shooting inside of you, loading your pussy up.

He kisses your forehead gently before holding you in his arms, both your breaths heavy when he whispers.

“I think I’m in love.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

hope you guys enjoyed it!!

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #formula one

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iwanthermidnightz · 6 months

Text

When I was 24 I sat in a backstage dressing room in London, buzzing with anticipation. My backup singers and bandmates gathered around me in a scattered circle.Scissors emerged and I watched in the mirror as my locks of long curly hair fell in piles on the floor. There I was in my plaid button down shirt, grinning sheepishly as my tour mates and friends cheered on my haircut. This simple thing that everyone does. But I had a secret. For me. It was more than a change of hairstyle. When I was 24. I decided to completely reinvent myself.

How does a person reinvent herself, you ask? In any way I could think of. Musically, geographically, aesthetically, behaviorally, motivationally. And I did so joyfully. The curiosity I had felt the first murmurs of while making red had amplified into a pulsing heartbeat of restlessness in my bars. The risks I took when I toyed with pop sounds and sensibilities on red? I wanted to push it further. The sense of freedom I felt when traveling to big bustling cities? I wanted to live in one. The voices that had begun to shame me in new ways for dating like a normal young woman? I wanted to silence them.

You see, in the years preceding this, I had become the target of slut shaming, the intensity and relentlessness of which would be criticized and called out if it happened today. The jokes about my amount of boyfriends. The trivialization of my songwriting as if it were a predatory act of a boy crazy psychopath. The media co-signing of this narrative. I had to make it stop because it was starting to really hurt.

It became clear to me that for me there was no such thing as casual dating, or even having a male friend who you platonically hang out with. If I was seen with him, it was assumed I was sleeping with him. And so I swore off hanging out with guys, dating, flirting, or anything that could be weaponized against me by a culture that claimed to believe in liberating women but consistently treated me with the harsh moral codes of the Victorian era.

Being a consummate optimist, I assumed I could fix this if I simply changed my behavior. I swore off dating and decided to focus only on myself, my music, my growth. And my female friendships. If I only hung out with my female friends, people couldn't sensationalize or sexualize that, right? I would learn later on that people could and people would.

But none of that mattered then because I had a plan and I had a demeanor as trusting as a basket of golden retriever puppies. I had the keys to my own apartment in New York and I had new melodies bursting from my imagination. I had Max Martin and Shellback who were happy to help me explore this new sonic landscape I was enamored with. I had a new friend named Jack Antonoff who had made some cool tracks in his apartment. I had the idea that the album would be called 1989. And we would reference big 80's synths and write sky high choruses. I had sublime, inexplicable faith and I ran right toward it, in high heels and a crop top.

There was so much that I didn't know then, and looking back I see what a good thing that was. This time of my life was marked by right kind of naïveté, a hunger for adventure. And a sense of freedom I hadn't tasted before. It turns out that the cocktail of naïveté, hunger for adventure and freedom can lead to some nasty hangovers, metaphorically speaking. Of course everyone had something to say. But they always will. I learned lessons, paid prices, and tried to… don't say it don't say it. I'm sorry, I have to say it. Shake it off.

I’ll always be so incredibly grateful for how you loved and embraced this album. You, who followed my zig zag creative choices and cheered on my risks and experiments. You, who heard the wink and humor in "blank space" and maybe even empathized with the pain behind the satire. You, who saw the seeds of allyship and advocating for equality in "Welcome to New York". You, who knew that maybe a girl who surrounds herself with female friends in adulthood is making up for a lack of them in childhood (not starting a tyrannical hot girl cult). You, who saw that I reinvent myself for a million reasons, and that one of them is to try my very best to entertain you. You, who have had the grace to allow me the freedom to change.

I was born in 1989. Reinvented for the first time in 2014, and a part of me was reclaimed in 2023 with the re-release of this album I love so dearly.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the magic you would sprinkle on my life for so long. This moment is a reflection of the woods we've wandered through and all this love between us still glowing in the darkest dark.

I present to you, with gratitude and wild wonder, my version of 1989.

It’s been waiting for you.

#taylor swift #1989 taylor's version #1989 tv #1989 tv prologue

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daycourtofficial · 5 months

Text

Capture the Mate

Summary: Azriel has to leave on a mission for a few days, but he asks Cassian to help look after his pregnant mate while he’s gone. Someone ambushes you and Cassian, taking you as prisoner.

Author’s note: this was requested by this lovely anon!!

“You look massive today.”

You snort at Cassian as you walked in, your giant belly making sitting down a bit difficult.

“And you look extra stupid today,” you retort, “guess we’re both glowing.”

Cassian laughs, going back to his cereal. You were in the last few months of your pregnancy and you were ready to meet your baby. You loved being pregnant, you loved how hot sex with your mate was because of it, you loved cradling your bump and the way your mates hands always find your bump.

But you didn’t love Cassian’s comments comparing you to a whale, the back pain, the inability to get comfortable, and your mate’s overprotectiveness being dialed up by a factor of a thousand.

Azriel was going on fewer missions these days due to your pregnancy, opting to delegate most of them to his most trusted spies. There are occasionally some missions he has to do himself, not happy about leaving you, practically throwing temper tantrums in the lead up to being gone. When he comes home it’s as if he’s been off at war for decades, checking every inch of you, asking you about every detail of your time in his absence (even down to what you ate exactly - he thinks you don’t eat enough vegetables in his absence).

This is the fifth mission during your pregnancy he’s gone on, and each time he can’t bear to leave you without someone who can protect you. Whenever Azriel has to go, he ensures one of his brothers or Feyre will be present with you at all times. Whenever he’s gone, you just stay in your old room at the House of Wind or at Feyre and Rhys’s new house.

At first it sounded a bit like needing a babysitter, but now it’s more like just staying at someone’s house for a sleepover. Feyre and Nesta always tried to help you have fun, spending the days you’re with them doing the things you love. Cassian loves you being there because he likes to have eating competitions with you, and Rhys likes it because he spoils you rotten.

Before Azriel left, he spent probably an hour saying goodbye to you and the babe. He’d kiss you, then move down to talk to the babe. “Stay in there until I return,” he’ll whisper. “Be nice to your mom while I’m gone, okay? Let her sleep, I won’t be here to rub her back when you kick her in the kidneys.”

This time he actually tears up a bit at leaving the two of you. He looks at you, grabbing your face in his hands, “I shouldn’t be too long, sweetheart. Be safe, I love you.”

“Any plans for the day, Cass?”

“Mmm not really, I already had training, so my day is free to be spent with you, my favorite sister.”

You smile. “You say that to both me and Feyre,” you reply, rolling your eyes fondly.

Cassian lifts his spoon to finish off the last of his cereal. “It changes day by day - today you’re the favorite.”

You had asked Cassian if you two could go back to your home with Azriel, you had some chores to do and you also wanted to work on setting up the nursery.

Looking around the nursery you take in what needs to be done. A month out from the baby’s arrival and your mate still hasn’t set up the crib. But if you set it up without him he’d give you a big lecture about how he was going to do it and how you could get yourself hurt doing it, so you’ll just leave it be.

You have a dresser set up and a wardrobe that practically rivals your own, so you decide to spend the day folding and putting away baby clothes.

Cassian graciously offered to clean the dishes that were in the sink, along with sweeping and mopping your downstairs floors.

After telling him he didn’t have to do that, he responded, “well I don’t want dirty floors for Cassian Jr. here when he starts crawling, and I don’t want you mopping because if you slip you might hurt Cassian Jr.” He finished his statement by reaching out to rub your belly.

You rolled your eyes at him, as he smiles at your belly. “Cassian, aren’t Jr’s supposed to be named after their father or mother? Last I checked, this wasn’t your baby.”

He strokes his thumb over your bump, hoping to feel a kick from within, “we could convince Az it’s mine. I think it’d be hilarious.”

You snort, “he’d kill you in a heartbeat.”

Cassian sighs, “I suppose. Maybe the next one can be Cassian Jr.” He wiggles his eyebrows as he tries to look at you suggestively.

You fling your arms, bringing on of your hands to your forehead dramatically, “Oh Cassian your powers of seduction are too strong, I’m irresistibly drawn to you! I must flee, to keep myself from pouncing on you.”

Laughter from the both of you echoing through the house as you attempt to scuttle away but it becomes more of a waddle as you climb the stairs to your nursery.

An hour or two had passed and you made a remarkable dent in the amount of clothing your baby had. The vast amount of clothes are mostly Rhys’s fault, no one alive loves buying clothes more than that male, but your mate was also quite fond of picking up clothes on the rare occasions he left your side.

He loved watching how happy you got, realizing just how much he was thinking of you and the babe while gone.

You decide to go check on Cassian, not having heard much of anything from downstairs since you’ve been in the nursery. You waddle down the stairs, holding the railing for support. You get to the last step, and you see Cassian in your living room, face down, wings splayed out, blood gushing from his head onto your rug.

You yell for him as you run to him, sitting next to him, checking for a pulse. He’s still alive, but he has a considerable amount of blood.

You press on his head wound, trying to cradle his head in your lap to apply pressure to the wound. He’s starting to wake a little, you can feel his hands squeezing on your thighs.

A hand wraps around your neck from behind, and a cool metal graces the skin of your neck.

“Here’s the pretty little thing we were looking for.”

When Cassian came to, his head was pounding. He sat up on the floor of your living room, trying to assess the situation. He was mopping the floor of your kitchen when something struck the back of his head.

He never got a good look at the assailant, the blow leaving him stuck on the floor. He was, however, able to crawl into your living room in an effort to reach you.

You.

You had cradled his head, you had come down here.

Cassian bolts up, causing him to go a little dizzy from the blood loss. He gets up, darting up your stairs.

“Sunshine? Are you here?”

He ran into the nursery, checking all the spots you could be hiding in there - the wardrobe, the closet, amongst the bags and boxes littering the floor.

His panic was starting to rise. “Sunshine, are you here? It’s me, Cassian.” The desperation was leaking through his voice, “please be here, it’s okay to come out.”

He combed through your shared bedroom with Azriel, checked every bathroom, Azriel’s study, your spare room, your library, the kitchen.

He combed through his memories, knowing Azriel kept hidden nooks everywhere. When the two of you moved in together, he remembered Azriel made several small pockets in this house so you could hide if anything were to happen.

You came to training, but you were no warrior. You couldn’t hurt anyone, and Azriel knew you’d have a hard time attacking anyone. He knew that Azriel drilled into you if anything were to happen to hide immediately.

The library.

It’s Cassian’s last hope. Of course Azriel had stuck a hidden panic room in the library. Cassian bound into the room, trying to remember what book it was that opened the secret entrance.

Combing the spines, he’s trying to remember. It was green, something that stands out a little, but not too much. Something someone who knew Azriel would know that this is off.

A book of Prythian maps. Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian had all of Prythian memorized, there was no need for it.

He slides the book from its spot, watching the case move, exposing the empty tiny room.

Cassian wasted no time jumping off your balcony, flying like a bat of hell to Rhys and Feyre’s house, screaming mentally, hoping Rhys would pick up on it.

He lands on their balcony, bursting into Rhys’s study, interrupting the intimate moment between them. Feyre was perched on his lap, feeding him grapes, Cassian’s entrance causing her to drop the bowl, the ceramic shattering on the ground, a dozen or so grapes spilling across the floor.

“Cassian!” Feyre yells in shock. She didn’t even know anyone else could burst into Rhys’s office.

Rhys stands up, immediately knowing something was wrong. “Where is she, Cass?”

Cassian points to his head, allowing Rhys to see everything. Your rug he stared at after the blow to his head, hearing your distress, him going in and out, feeling your hands press against his wound, him waking up alone, his frantic search of your house.

Feyre gasps, having also seen all of it.

“Bring Azriel home now.”

Your captors had thrown a bag over your head, not allowing you to see anything as they took you away from your home, away from Cassian bleeding on your rug.

They left Cassian, probably as a message that they could take him down if they wanted, but that he wasn’t who they wanted.

Your only hope is that Cassian wakes up soon enough and alerts Rhys and Feyre about what happened, and they could get into contact with your mate.

You were filled with a mix of emotions, between fear, concern, and anger. Afraid for your life, what your captors will do to you, concern for your unborn baby, and anger for Azriel.

Azriel closes off the bond between you two during missions, a decision you both agreed to. However, the second he is available, he opens it, letting you know how he is. Your biggest hope now is just sending him how you’re feeling, hoping he’ll feel that you’re alive whenever he reopens the connection.

They had picked you up and flown you somewhere, so they’re most likely Illyrian.

They land, not nearly as gracefully as your mate or his brothers, emitting a soft ‘oof’ from your lips.

They carry you for at least ten minutes, through what you assume is decently packed area.

Are you in one of the camps?

You knew relations between Rhys and the Illyrians were bad, but would they really kidnap the spymaster’s mate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when you realize they’ve brought you into a building and have set you down in a chair, shackling you to it.

You haven’t spoken a word, barely eliciting a sound, just like your mate would do. You’re not sure if it’s what you should do, but the thought of what he would do holds you together.

You have to be strong, for yourself, for Azriel, for the baby.

They pull the bag off your head, your pupils dilating due to the sudden change in light. Four Illyrian warriors stood before you, 11 siphons glowing throughout the room.

“Hello, beautiful.”

The one who had been carrying you and taken you from your home approached you, caressing your face. You kept a stoic, neutral expression, not letting anything slip.

Just like Azriel would.

Your only response is the eye contact you refuse to break with him.

“That piece of shit struck gold when the cauldron bonded you to him,” practically spitting out the last word.

“Your little shadowsinger won’t stop snooping around our camps, won’t stop telling his precious little high lord everything he sees. They’ve been meddling in the way we deal with our women, the way we govern ourselves. We thought it was time to uh explain to them why they should just stay in their precious little city and leave us alone.”

The second the words left Cassian’s lips, Rhys was trying to reach Azriel telepathically. Within seconds of Cassian’s words, darkness was clouding the room, creating an impenetrable black, the only light shining being several blue siphons glowing with rage.

Cassian recounted the whole thing to the darkness, knowing his brother was somewhere in there. Once he got to the part of the story where you were gone, the room exploded even further, making Azriel’s siphons impossible to see now.

A few shadows whiz by Cassian, he’s assuming to double check you aren’t in their home. The rage Azriel feels is coming off in waves, when he remembers the bond is still closed.

He closes his eyes, sending a silent prayer to the mother. Please, please, please.

The bond opens, your warmth filling his chest. He can feel the initial fear you felt at being taken, but he can also feel your constant reassurance that you and the baby are okay.

Azriel feels his eyes prickle with tears as he chokes out, “they’re alive.” His brothers reach out to hug him or soothe him, but he steps back, his male instincts kicking in.

“I can feel it,” he says, holding a hand up, “the protectiveness is ramping up. I want to kill any male in sight.”

Rhys and Cassian start protesting, telling Azriel they want to come with him, but he stops them again.

“Give me a five minute head start. Then I’ll give you my location.”

Your silence was an interesting strategy, one your captors did not like one bit, their irritation with you growing by the minute.

“Maybe we should rough her up then drop her back on their door step. Pretty loud and clear message, don’t you think?” He circles around your chair, sizing you up like prey.

“We could show her how women are supposed to be treated by us,” one in the corner shouts.

The one circling you spits at your feet before he says, “those half-breed bastards have gone soft, they forget what it means to be Illyrian.”

In a flash he steps forward, his hand slapping you across the face.

Azriel used the bond to find you. He kept tugging, the bond offering him a direction to go. He kept winnowing into the direction of the tug, when he began realizing where the bond was likely taking him. He growled with anger, unable to believe they could be so stupid as to take his mate.

He disappeared into his shadows, sending a few to find out exactly where you were. Once they returned, sans the two that wanted to stay with you, they whisked him away to the room you were being kept in.

The big one who had struck you earlier was mid-strike when the shadowsinger materialized out of the shadows in front of you, his hand catching the brute’s wrist.

“Lay another hand on my mate and your hands will become trophies I hang on the wall.”

You can feel his shadows enveloping you in a soothing wave, checking you head to toe for injuries, but only finding the stinging cheek and the pain from the shackles.

The twirl through your hair, eventually skating over your swollen belly, where they settle and stay.

Your mate’s shadows were very attentive of the baby in your belly, as if your unborn babe were calling to them, too. They reacted to everything the babe did, every kick, every movement, as if telling your babe, “we are here, little master.”

The anger radiating off of Azriel was palpable, but his demeanor was terrifying. A feralness to him you’ve never seen before.

“Whose idea was this?”

Nobody in the room speaks, the assailants just gaping at your mate.

“Speak.”

One of them points to the leader, the one whose wrist was still in Azriel’s hand.

Azriel looks into the male’s eyes, piercing through his soul, as he flicks his arm, breaking the male’s arm.

He screams, shocked at the swiftness of the break. Azriel takes the moment of surprise to pull the first assailant’s head into his knee, bashing his head into his kneecap, throwing him on the ground.

He looks to the next closest one, tilting his head, deciding how he wants to play this. He decides to leave truth-teller sheathed at his side, opting instead to use his bare hands.

“I wanted to savor this, however I don’t want to keep my mate waiting,” he states, coming up to the next closest one and swiftly wrapping his hands around his head, twisting until a sickening crack echoes through the room.

One of them lunges for Azriel, fists raised to fight him. Azriel moves to the side, causing the running assailant to run into the wall behind the shadowsinger. Azriel grabs him by the back of his neck, pulling his arm back, and with all of his force, pushing his head into the wall. Over. And over. And over. His blood splattering the wall, an actual crack in the wall forming from where his head kept hitting it.

He releases his hold, allowing his body to fall to the floor. Azriel turns and looks at the last one, the one that had pointed to whose idea this was, as some of his shadows finally break free from you. “Now,” he says, as they begin pooling at the last captor’s feet, “I’ll deal with you later.”

The shadows at his feet begin pulling the male into the pool of darkness, assumingly to be questioned further about their failed plans.

Azriel undoes the shackles keeping you in place, hoisting you into his arms, the belly making it a bit more difficult.

The second he reopened the bond to find you, he began sending you a constant stream of love down it, trying to convey to you that he was on his way to you.

Being gathered in his arms, the bond was humming a sweet melody, a soft duet that can only be heard when you’re together.

He pulls back, grabbing your face in his hands. “I have never felt fear quite like I did when Rhys made me come back. I knew something was wrong, I was hoping that the babe had just come early.”

He puts his left hand on your belly, the babe inside kicking the exact spot his hand is in. Your mate laughs.

You look at him, seeing the fear and adrenaline in his eyes as he continues, “but when I got back and Cassian said they left him behind and took you, I thought ‘okay, if they’re gone, I have nothing left to live for.’”

“But then, I opened the bond, and I felt you, and I-“ he chokes up a bit, continuing, “I almost started crying. You were alive, and you were okay.”

He pulls your head in, kissing the top of your head several times.

“You’re both okay.”

You reached up, stroking his cheek, “we’re okay.”

He smiles, and you laugh, “I guess this means you’re never leaving my side again, huh?”

He laughs, a tear falling down his face as he does so. “Oh no, sweetheart. You thought I was overbearing before, just wait. You won’t remember what personal space was soon enough.”

You laugh, “at least tell me you aren’t upset with Cassian. He’s a sweet guard dog.”

He smiles at you, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “They ambushed him, I could never be upset with him over that. Now come on, let’s go see my brother before he gives himself a heart attack with worry over you.”

“He is quite fond of me, isn’t he?” You ask, his arm going around you, preparing to embark through the shadows to go back home.

“He told me he prayed every night that we would be mates,” he says, the shadows beginning to engulf the two of you.

“Why?” You ask, wrapping your arms around him.

Azriel looks into your eyes as he says, “he told me he never thought anyone was good enough for me until he met you.”

#azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel angst

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ab4eva · 1 month

Text

‘The Three of Us’

Fully co-authored with: @precious-little-scoundrel

Thanks to: My incomparable co-author & sweetheart Marina, for being willing to follow this rabbit hole with me and explore this little trio! And for the gorgeous mood board and vibes, I’m obsessed. And to Ashley, for being the best damn cheerleader we could ask for. ♥️

Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only

Word count: 8k

Sometimes in Hollywood, magic happens behind the scenes - in a dark corner of Bar Lubitsch or a little poolside bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. Things that are only whispered about in certain circles or sent to Deuxmoi with the stipulation of “anon please.” The blurry flash of a hand, littered with telltale rings, on her Instagram story. The paparazzi photos of a drunken night out before the three of them disappeared into the balmy Los Angeles evening. The fandom set ablaze by rumors as they combed over every sign, every possibility, every look that they took for god’s honest truth. A myth in the making, never confirmed, never denied.

When a ballsy journalist had the gumption to ask Callum about the rumors some months down the road, he just grinned his Cheshire smile and shook his head, the slightest blush hinting at the corners of his already ruddy cheeks.

“Nah, mate, can’t believe everyfing you read in Hollywood, can ya.” A statement, no trace of question in his ice blue eyes as he licked his cherry lips and stared the journalist down, daring them to dig deeper. His heart may have started pounding a little too hard but only he knew that. Nothing belied the steely gaze he turned on the journalist - not a flex in his jaw or a slight blink or the whisper of a breath. Needless to say, that journalist had no desire to go toe-to-toe with all six feet two inches of Chelsea’s finest lad. They let the subject drop, though the air had already been sucked out of the tiny interview room. Callum noted with suppressed glee the way the journalist shifted in their seat uncomfortably, trying to regain the upper hand.

Serves ya right, ya wanker, floated through Cal’s head and it took all his energy to focus his thoughts on the next question being asked of him. Now that the taboo subject had been brought up, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back towards that fateful night, like the breach in a ship’s hull the memories flooded in. The soft give of her flesh beneath his fingers as he dug them into her hips, needing her closer, closer. The salty taste of Austin’s skin on his tongue as he dragged it slowly across his friend’s collarbone, the streak of wetness left behind shimmering in the moonlight. The mingled sighs and shared breaths, overpowering and heady in that dark little bungalow. That was the night he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter how many books he read or women he kissed or bloody hikes he took in Runyon Canyon, he was always going back to the night when everything changed.

“Didn’t I see you at the Luchino Visconti retrospective a couple nights ago? At the Academy?” The very definition of tall, dark and handsome has just walked in the room, smiling down at you and waiting expectantly for your answer. This is Callum Turner, the new client you’re working with for Masters of the Air press (alongside Austin Butler, your regular client and current boyfriend-adjacent…guy. It’s casual, you’re both keeping it casual. For now.).

“Oh! Were you there? Wasn’t it amazing?” you gush, a little flustered.

“It’s kind of rare to meet another Visconti fan. You must be one of the good ones.” He grins at you, all warmth and puppy dog eagerness. A kindred spirit, an instant connection. You would be very charmed by him, if you weren’t already attached to someone else. Who are you kidding, you’re charmed by him anyway. Talking with him comes easily, and the time flies by as you style his hair, moisturize his skin, add a bit of concealer here and there. He’s funny, sweet, intelligent. Austin has told you a bit about him, about his friend who helped him during one of the most confusing times of his life. But this - this is more than you were expecting. He’s more than you were expecting. And you’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. When he asks you out for a drink later, you’re absolutely certain. It is with no small amount of regret that you turn him down.

The first time you noticed something akin to a spark between the man you’d casually been dating and his co-star was during press interviews for their new television series, Masters of the Air. As Austin and Callum’s groomer and makeup artist, you were allowed a seat at the back of the room, near the video monitors, ready to jump into action if one of Austin’s curls needed to be twisted back into place or if Callum’s nose got too shiny and needed a bit of powder. You glanced up from your phone to see the two of them leaned so close together their shoulders touched, just barely. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Callum’s mouth looked as if it might graze the shell of Austin’s ear, a smirk playing at the edges, as his dark, curly head bent conspiratorially towards his friend’s blonde one. Silly boys, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched them. You’d seen that look on Austin’s face before…it was almost one of… adoration.

Without warning your mind flashed back to last night, Austin gazing up at you through your thighs, a look of devotion on his face, his sandy hair ruffled and his eyes slightly dazed. The very same look that he’s now turned on Callum… Nah… You laughed at yourself quietly and shook your head to clear your thoughts, silently scolding yourself. You’d been reading too many spicy novels recently and clearly your imagination was running wild. It made sense that he and Callum were close. Austin had been lost as a newborn calf without a mother after Elvis had wrapped and Masters of the Air had started filming. A brotherhood, that’s what Austin had called it. And Callum had been his right hand man. And that’s all, you were sure. Pretty sure.

Bar Lubitsch is dim and noisy, crowded with cast and crew of Masters for an impromptu celebration while so many of them are in town. Austin hasn’t been here in years, always remembered it being a good time. He wants to show you and Callum a good time, after all the hard work you three have been putting in for press the past couple of weeks. That was two hours and three drinks ago, and you watch them now from your perch at the bar and how much they feed each other’s souls, like displaced brothers, reunited after years apart. The evening is starting to shift and blur, so many drinks and people and noise and singing. You never knew Callum loved to sing so much, until he was singing karaoke at the top of his lungs and the whole bar was gathered around the little stage in the back room, jumping to the beat while he sang the most risqué lyrics right to Austin, like they were the only two people in the room:

Even when the cold comes crashing through

I'm putting all my bets on you

I hope they never understand us

I put my heart inside your palms

My home in your arms

Now we know nothing matters

Nothing matters

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

You’re not sure you’ll ever be over Callum pinching Austin’s cheeks, channeling his inner Egan, and singing right at him with drunken gusto while Austin is too tipsy to remember not to bask in it and it’s probably the cutest, and hottest, thing you’ve ever seen. It’s only afterwards that you start to feel a tiny flicker of jealousy. There’s something between them, a connection that time and distance hasn’t untethered. Later, you drag Austin into one of the faded velvet booths, snuggling up to him as he pulls you into a one-armed embrace, kissing your temple with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. His heady mix of sweat and cologne mingle, along with the alcohol, and suddenly you’re lightheaded. Not to mention the fact that his soft lips have seemed to have move, with lightning speed, from your temple to your neck. You gently push him away, and he gives you a questioning look but you need to see his face when you ask him this.

“Hey…what’s going on with Callum? Because, it’s clearly something? And whatever it is, it’s ok, really it is…but…I do have eyes, Austin,” you blurt out, biting your lip. You see a dozen different emotions cross his features, like a movie playing out in real time - surprise, guilt, defensiveness, longing, acceptance. His face goes all red and he leans his head back, his tan throat open and inviting, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right this second.

“It’s…complicated. Kind of,” he sighs as he stares up at the ceiling and you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it and that’s answer enough for you. You don’t push him further as you quietly turn his mouth to yours and make him forget anything and everyone but you.

“Come on Aus, it’ll be just like old times,” Cal goads drunkenly, placing a proprietary hand on Austin’s belly, his words laden with meaning and a hint of pleading. It’s not like he’s missed Austin or anything…not like that. Not that he’d admit anyway, hell no. Couldn’t two dudes have a consensual thing and not be weird about it? It must be liquid courage that made him suggest it aloud. That and the fact Austin keeps looking at him like he hung the damn moon.

“Swear you’ll shut up? If I say yes, will you just…chill?” Austin’s eyes are trained on you and it takes everything in him to play it cool, keep a calm head. Cal’s hand is still on Austin’s stomach and he starts to pet him, just above the belt and it makes Austin lurch in sudden need. He licks his lips, they’re suddenly parched, and swallows hard. He hears Cal snicker softly in his ear.

“Now, see, as I recall, you wouldn’t stop asking me to keep sayin’ shit last time.” Callum’s voice floats above the music, scratchy from gin and karaoke, hot breath tickling the shell of Austin’s ear. His hand moves to squeeze Austin’s neck, and if Austin didn’t know any better he’d swear it was a subconscious power move, Callum trying to literally bend Austin to his will. There’s an all too familiar twitch down Austin’s pant leg, and oh god he wishes- he thought, he was so sure, he was past that phase of responding like one of Pavlov’s dogs to Callum’s adoration and teasing.

Maybe it’s just the notion, his suggestion. That’s what’s suddenly making Austin’s blood feel hot and his eyes hazy, it’s the idea of her…and him! But mostly her, just her, and sharing her and- None of that explains the way he wants to bend to that firm hand squeezing in drunken cajoling at the base of his neck, makes him want to knock noses and yank at the stupid collar of Callum’s sweater until there’s collarbones to see and a draft under the wool. This is winter in Los Angeles, heating inside is state of the art, there’s no reason for such coziness and it’s making the man sweat and all Austin can think of from the smell is memories of an English summer, worn out and floating in his own body, biting down on Callum’s upper arm, tangy, sweaty flesh to keep an awfully strange escapade quiet.

That does it. What is he even thinking? He must’ve drank more than he realized but then, oh god, there Cal goes, throwing his hands up in defeat, shrugging his shoulders like a kid caught trying to push his luck. The arm around his shoulder is suddenly gone, and he’d give anything to have it back again. He shakes his head - he really must’ve had too much to drink. It was making him melancholy and sobering him up fast. Funny how alcohol will do that to you.

“Scouts honor, Butler, I’ll-I’ll-I’ll,” he seems to search the ceiling in drunken concentration for the correct wording most likely to open the doors to the kingdom, “I’ll be- it’ll be: HER, YOU and a um, uh mannequin. How ‘bout that, mate? Good enough for ya? You’d probably like that, wouldn’t ya? Ya little freak!” He lands a playful right hook to Austin’s jaw, hard knuckles digging into soft cheeks.

The usually inflammatory epithet of ‘freak’, coming as it does from a man begging for a threesome with himself and his girl, is nothing short of rabidly complementary. Callum’s shit-eating, triumphant grin could light up the whole damn room in this moment. He knows he’s got Austin right where he wants him and starts to count down silently in his head - three…two…

Austin finds himself grinning, a warning, measured thing but a condoning of the sentiment all the same.

“One,” Cal says out loud, his arm going back around Austin’s shoulders, squeezing so hard Austin winces a little. It’s a reflective motion then, done almost without thinking, when Austin slaps Callum’s thigh, not realizing there’s a boner bent down that trouser leg. A wounded hiss leaves Callum’s lips as he caves in on himself a little bit and Austin freezes, his face turning crimson and he feels another twitch down his own trousers.

“Steady on mate,” Callum coughs, shaking a leg, trying to discreetly readjust. “And I thought I was the eager beaver here.” Austin wants to wipe that smirk right off Callum’s smug little face but the moment their eyes meet they can’t help but start to laugh. Giggles, really, which turn into loud guffaws that has the whole bar turning to see what the commotion is about.

Your head whips around at the sound you’ve grown to know well over the past few weeks, the loud and boisterous laughter of two friends who seem forget that anyone else exists when they’re together. You spot them, huddled close as they always seem to be, and shake your head. A grin tugs at your lips and threatens to spill out the feelings fluttering around in your chest, no your stomach, no…somewhere else, lower. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about the two of them…together. Sometimes you’re with them, sometimes you’re not, in these little fantasies of yours. You catch yourself biting your lip and staring at them a little too longingly. You wonder what they’re saying now, both of them look flustered and awkward, just slightly. You can actually feel the tension rolling off of them in waves from where you stand across the bar.

Austin chooses that moment to look up and catch your eye. There’s a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there earlier and what is that look on his face? You’ve never seen it before…shy and almost…guilty? He looks just like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Your eyes question him across the dim bar, an unspoken tether ties you together wherever you are, and uncertainty about the deal he’s just struck with Callum comes creeping in. What has gotten into him? He’s just agreed to share you, with another man. And not just any man, one he has a rather interesting history with. The thought of Callum touching you, kissing you, fucking you…suddenly he’s stone cold sober and beginning to regret letting Cal sway his decision. Because there sure as hell won’t be any take backs, not with Callum. He’s like a dog with a bone once he gets what he wants.

“Dude no, there’s chemical flavoring in there, that shit’s bad for you and it’ll give her irritation!” Austin looks slightly perturbed, not for the first time this evening. He sways slightly under the florecent lights of the drugstore, the constant buzzing adding to the pounding in his head.

“What if it’s not intended to go on her? Hmm? Thought of that Butler?” Callum murmurs under his breath, his eyes focused solely on the lube he’s holding, a pink blush creeping up his neck to his ears. Has a blush under drugstore fluorescents ever looked so lovely? And Austin hasn’t stopped biting that lower lip since you walked into this place. It hasn’t stopped him from grinning, though, his excitement bubbling through in little ticks and tells, the nervous turning over of the vaseline jar in his large hands.

“You haven’t even bought me dinner Cal, just straight to the flavored lube,” Austin bemoans, faking offense. “’Sides, she’s already sweet enough, aren’t you baby? I’ve had my fair share of licks,” Austin’s shoulder bumps yours as he sends you a smoldering look, his eyes flickering down your body briefly before his cheeks turn a slight rosy color you can see blooming up from his chest through his open shirt collar.

“Austin!” you hiss, slapping his arm playfully and hiding your face in his neck, embarrassed.

“Leave it to you two twig Bettie’s and we’d be down to nothin’ but socks and coconut oil,” Cal snarks, not at all inaccurately.

“I don’t remember you minding coconut oil last time,” Austin says under his breath, clearly meant for Callum’s ears only, but you manage to catch it, and your heart starts to pound at the implied meaning.

“Mmm, and it was bitter so - mojito,” Callum says decidedly, leaving no room for argument. Austin smiles at you, lifting his shoulder in a shrug and rolling his eyes heavenward. You giggle nervously, wondering for the first time just what you’re getting yourself into.

“I saw that! Listen mate, feel free to shut me up at any time. This would do nicely, ya reckon?” Callum lifts a silk sleeping mask with one, long finger and swings it around seductively, waggling his eyebrows up and down comically. You laugh and the butterflies making a home in your ribcage start to settle down again.

The whimpers emanating from between your parted lips take you by surprise and you promptly shut your mouth, unexpectedly embarrassed to be mewling so wantonly. You bite your lip as it becomes harder and harder to hold them in with every slow thrust of Austin’s velvety cock filling you, his swollen tip hitting just the right spot, and every flick of Callum’s tongue as he laves at your tender little clit with vigor. You feel Austin tense slightly beneath you as Cal swirls his tongue down to your opening to lap at where you and Austin join, sloppy and wet. A soft moan floats past your left ear, Austin’s hot breath sending a shiver through you, and it seems to invigorate Callum as he doubles down on his efforts to have his tongue cover as much surface area as possible. He chuckles and it jolts through you as your back arches, your fingers finding his dark curls and yanking him closer, demanding something you aren’t even aware of. He understands what you need even if you don’t and as his lips close around your sensitive bud you can no longer keep quiet, keening softly. You practically buck off of Austin’s lap and his arm tightens around your waist to keep you in place. The harder Callum sucks, the more Austin starts to whine - you’ve gotten so tight around him he can hardly thrust.

“Oh fuck, what’re you doing? Cal…what…” you slur as you pull at his hair, trying to dislodge him from your clit. You feel him grin against your heat as he slowly slips two fingers in you, resting them alongside Austin’s length. You hiss at the stretch and Austin starts to pick up his pace again. Your head is too hazy with pleasure to register fully what is happening as Callum gently slides another finger in next to the first two. His mouth works your clit, sucking and pulling, harder then soft again.

“More…more more more,” you beg hoarsely. You feel as if you might fly away and the only thing anchoring you to earth are these two men and their hands and their mouths on your body. Callum cocks an eyebrow at you and his eyes shift to Austin. You feel him nod, barely, and then another burning stretch as Cal slips his pinkie in next to his other fingers. It drives you insane and you feel yourself clenching and coming, harder than you can ever remember. You stop breathing for a moment, your mind going numb with rapture as you come apart at the seams.

“Oh fuck,” Austin whispers, biting your shoulder, his hand absentmindedly palming your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple. “Come on baby, I know you’ve got more, give us another one. Cal, can’t thrust with you in there…give me some room, huh?”

Callum let’s go of your clit with a wet pop and gently slides his fingers out. His nose and chin are shiny with your juices, even his eyebrows look a little damp and he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Go on then, Butler, show us what you got.” He stands, knees popping as he does. From up here he can see your faces clearly, yours and Austin’s. He watches, rapt, as Austin nuzzles your neck, nipping at your earlobe as he speeds up his thrusts, toying with your nipples mercilessly. Your eyes flutter closed and your head drops back onto his shoulder. Callum shakes his head, dazed and pussy drunk - why was he on his knees so long?? He coulda been watching this the whole time? But he knows why- fresh, homegrown pussy. And he means to have his fill. He can’t take being on the sidelines, watching Austin move in and out of you at a punishing pace, having all the fun. One of Callum’s massive palms descends onto your clit, slapping and rubbing cruelly, back and forth, faster and faster. And then you’re gushing everywhere, all over Callum’s hand and Austin’s cock and the bed, soaking everything.

“Come on then girl, give us all you’ve got,” Cal encourages, his raspy voice driven to the point of hoarseness. He grabs his painfully hard, throbbing cock and roughly starts to slap your clit. You gasp, jerking in Austin’s arms as you fall apart again. And then Callum gets a thought, because his dick is doing most of the thinking just now, and it’s been sadly neglected thus far. He’s just had four fingers in you and now you’re literally flinging droplets with each swipe, it’s a goddamn swamp down there it’s so wet. He slows his slaps and starts to rub soft circles against your clit, stopping every once in a while to try your entrance gently, just to see. You moan breathlessly and his heart speeds up as he looks at Austin questioningly.

“I recognize that gleam in your eye, Turner…spit it out,” Austin says in a slightly strangled voice.

“Think you can take us both, angel? At the same time?” Callum directs his question to you, ignoring Austin.

You can’t take your poor abused clit getting ground on anymore, it’s just too intense, anything to give it a break. You nod your head so fast he thinks it might fly off. Your trembling little hand reaches down with disjointed begs of “Put it in baby, put it, please Cal, it’s burning.”

Your sloppy wet pussy hole visibly clenches with a tiny space of room left each time Austin digs in. Callum drunkenly wonders if they should have a medical professional on standby for this sorta shit, like it’s gotta be a crime to wedge two boys into a girl, especially when Butler’s packing like that. But your whine suggests you need it and he’d really like to not be left out. FOMO -that’s what he’ll blame when he’s driving the ambulance or else coming down from the craziest high he’s ever had with a pool of cum drying on his belly.

Austin goes still as a statue under you and drags your sweaty hair across to the other shoulder so he can really see your face and ask, “You sure? Baby, talk to me, you really wanna try?” His hand gently grips your chin, forcing you to focus on his eyes, his question.

“I’ll die if I don’t have you both,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, but Austin still looks concerned and slightly perturbed. Is the girl he knows even in there? But you want something, you want this and he’ll be dammed if he doesn’t give you anything you want that’s within his power to give. And if there’s one thing he loves about you it’s your love of a challenge. He bites his cheek, trying not to blow his load over your sweet determination.

“Ok ok.” Austin takes a deep, steadying breath, kissing your wet temple and gives Callum a very familiar look of admonishment and also trust in his good intentions. “Careful, man, really careful,” he instructs as Callum nods his silent assent.

“No safe words, just if somebody says stop we stop, ok?” Austin’s starting to pant, as he can feel the poofy mushroom head of Cal’s cock brushing his sack at your entrance. “Anybody who says stop,” he clarifies, half thinking he might be the first to wimp out and do it.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Cal actually looks sober as fuck except for the sheen of sweat that always seems to come with his pints and somehow the eye contact he makes lights a fire in Austin’s belly.

“I might say no,” you squeak, “I won’t mean it though, just a heads up. I’ll say stop- if I need to stop.”

“No?” Cal laughs nervously. “That might make me feel a little…bad,” he admits, still rubbing maddening circles around where Austin’s been practically cockwarming you for ages.

“Stop getting all existential and give her what she wants, man,” Austin rebuts.

“It’ll make me feel bad if she says no,” Cal blurts, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“Then I’ll do it.” Austin’s voice is rough in your ear and your nipples harden into peaks as he gently pulls out of you and pats the bed. “Tell Cal to lay his big ass self down.”

You giggle as Callum dives onto the bed, bouncing for a moment until he settles, turning over onto his back, head propped on a lazy forearm. He pats his meaty thighs and you roll your eyes but can’t deny the flip flop your stomach does at the thought of those thighs and what a nice cradle they’ll make while you’re railed within an inch of you’re life. And then you’re hovering over him, Cal kneading your hip encouragingly while running an admiring hand up and down your spine, like you’re a skittish horse in need of calming. You hesitate, momentarily unsure, but Austin nods at you reassuringly from the foot of the bed and ever the gentleman, gives you his hands to hold as you sink slowly down on Callum. Though his gentlemanly hands are gripping yours tightly, his eyes are glued to your pussy taking every inch of uncut Brit cock that he’s maybe gagged on once.

“Earth to Butler!” comes from behind you because Austin’s zoned out a little and it’s been a hot minute and you’re somewhat situated now.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, ok, ok…”

Cal snickers before crunching up behind you, his chest hot against your back as he wraps his arms around you. “You feel lovely, darlin’, wanna lay back wif’ me? Don’t mind him, he’s lost it. Always goes a bit soft in the head around a pretty pussy or my cock.”

It’s a lot from this position and laying back against Callum’s chest is intense. You feel like he’s fully in your belly and it stretches your womb over him. He feels different…his isn’t as wet as Austin’s little water fountain but it throbs more noticeably, sending little shocks of pleasure through you. Cal pets your belly soothingly and spreads your pussy lips for Austin to really get a look at. You whine and squirm, realizing again the want for more. Those fingers dabbling at your entrance, threatening to push inside you once more and that’s when Austin breaks, recalling that’s what he and his cock are here for.

“Yeah, ok, ok, present and accounted for. Move your hand,” he murmurs, swiping Cal’s hand away. He thumbs at you himself for a bit, just to be sure and to watch as Cal loses his cool facade for a second when you clench tightly around him.

“Still sure about this, baby?” He asks one more time as he’s pressing at the ring and the burn has you bracing. You feel Cal’s hand move from your waist to your thigh, behind your knee, cupping it and dragging it wide, spreading you apart before you’ve even said your piece. The vote of confidence does you good and you take a deep breath, nodding once, decisively.

“Then put me in, angel,” Austin tells you, fat cockhead already snagged in but there’s a little ripple in his hard cock from the resistance of the tight space. Steeling yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around him, tugging him closer and slowly feeding his thickness into you alongside Cal’s, who starts thrashing his head and moaning at the drag like he’s the one getting breached.

“Good girl, good girl, please more…know you can take more.” Cal’s begging for cock by proxy and it alters your brain somehow. Austin’s too, he puts his hips into the effort and soon he’s gotten past the muscles at your command and into the threshold where you can’t manage to push him out if you tried. It makes you panic a little, but Cal is softly shushing in your ear, a distracting thumb stroking behind your knee, other freckled hand mauling a tit and begging you to take more cock so he can get friction.

“She can take it, come on, Austin,” he vouches for you, a little self promotion as you can’t even form words right now. Somewhere about six inches in your vocabulary consists of yelped little “fuck’s”and whimpering “I cant’s”.

Austin caresses your cheek, commanding you to look at him, his blue eyes focused in on yours, “That’s it baby, just a little more. You’re doing so good for us… such a good girl.”

Callum grab’s Austin’s shoulder and brings him fully deeper, which is all well and good when Austin kisses your forehead and insists raggedly, “You are doing it, baby.”

When he finally pushes in that last little bit, you lose any control you thought you had, instantly coming from the stretch and threatening to push Austin out. But he presses nothing less than his full weight on you, keeping you in place and himself snug inside next to Callum. You gasp for air and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him. Austin tries to remember to breathe and promptly forgets how when he makes eye contact with Callum for the first time since being balls deep.

“Are you -is that you…twitching?”

“Woulda thought you’d remember that,” Callum smirks. “Coulda sworn I recall you saying something about it jumping like a live wire in your hand?”

“Christ, well it feels different all…snuggled up next to mine,” Austin grits out, coloring slightly.

After a moment or two, when breath has been regained and a few laughs shared and some semblance of sanity restored in right spaces, Cal starts to pepper every inch of your neck and cheeks in kisses. Now that he’s not so desperate he’s become utterly grateful for you, for this. The kisses turn into sloppy, wet groans in your ear as Austin begins to move and Cal’s hand is gripping your jaw, his eyes locked on Austin, your legs thrown wide over his thighs, spread to the max and he’s a perfect recliner. He throws his other arm across your chest in a loving armbar, holding you still on top of him, “So Butler can get a rhythm, baby.”

Austin looms above you both, finding his pace, measured and steady. His beautiful face is flushed full of awe and there’s a heat in his gaze you’ve never seen before. He puts his hand on Callum’s shoulder for leverage, long fingers digging into freckled flesh and Cal promptly lays a little smooch on Austin’s forearm with a cheeky grin. Austin’s eyes shift and change, become a deeper blue and an expression you can’t read flits across his face as he jabs a particularly hard thrust into you. Callum starts to whimper and squirm when he realizes Austin’s thrusts are rubbing him too well, and it's not just you who’s getting their spot hit - that spot being his foreskin being drug back and forth in maddening little drags.

“Y’all like that? Feel good?” Austin growls lowly, rhythmic thrusts pushing you and Callum deeper into the fluffy white sheets, both of your whimpers combining until you can’t tell who they belong to. Austin groans and drives in harder, his white knuckles gripping Callum’s shoulder hard, while he reserves his tenderest touch for you, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your cheek.

“You’re…enjoying this…” you manage to moan between thrusts. His face splits into a grin as he pushes all the way in, pausing for a moment to kiss you hard, all tongues and teeth and desperation.

“Oh, fuck mate, that’s so good. Oh my god,” Callum babbles. “Right there, fuck, right there. You feel so good.”

“Which one, baby girl? Me or her?” Austin smirks.

For once, Callum has no witty response except the heavy panting in your ear. He squeezes your waist harder and his fingernails indent your hip and it gives you something else to focus on while you catch your breath, a tiny escape from the mind-blowing ecstasy you feel and the slight alarm bells ringing in your head. You can feel Callum somehow expanding and growing inside of you, even bigger than he was before. Austin’s eyes go wide and a look of panic crosses his face - his perfect pink mouth forms a perfect “o”.

“Oh shit, what…why is everything so fucking tight again…what is happening,” Austin groans breathlessly, his mouth set in a determined line, teeth ground together so hard you worry momentarily he might break a tooth. He tightens his grip on Callum’s shoulder and Cal’s massive hand encircles Austin’s delicate wrist, knuckles white as he holds on for dear life.

“Faster…faster,” Cal begs, again and again. “Sorry no, mate it’s, it’s fuckin’ happenin’…oh fuck.” His head cranes forward and you can feel his belly and hips flexing beneath you as he tenses over and over, letting out a hoarse sort of howl as he comes. His warmth fills you and it shakes something loose in your head, your own stomach starting to clench as you grab a handful of Austin’s golden hair, urging him on. Callum’s hands are all over you, petting you everywhere as he starts to come down.

“S’ok I came in ya? Yeah? Good, ‘cause I did,” he whispers hoarsely with a remorseful little laugh, back to babbling to you now that Austin’s got him there. He wipes the sweaty hair from your forehead, tucking a piece of it behind your ear and kisses your neck, whispering encouraging words, “That’s it, babe, give us another one.”

Cal’s bitten off little whimpers spur you on, as his soft cock is trapped in there too, getting pummeled. He’s trying to focus on you, with little pets and murmurs of encouragement but you feel his jaw clench as he grits his teeth, taking the pounding Austin is giving the both of you.

“Got me feelin’ like a proper woman, squealin’ n’ shit, Aus.”

You feel another orgasm build and shake through you, one of the many countless times you’ve fallen apart tonight, but this one stands out. It would bring you to your knees if you were unlucky enough to be standing at this moment. You’re sure it has something to do with knowing you’re satisfying two men at once, Callum having found his release and Austin being close to his. You can tell he’s on the verge by the little signs you’ve grown to recognize over the course of your relationship. The way his forehead creases in between his brows - you’ve kissed it away a dozen times in the heat of the moment. The way his pulse beats on the side of his neck, his vein there popping out and becoming more prominent. The short little huffs of breath he inhales, in quick succession - one, two, three, bam, bam, bam, like three shots straight to your heart. It’s your turn to take care of him, the last one standing after he made sure you and Cal got yours.

“Your turn, baby,” you whisper, pulling his forehead down to meet yours, thumbing at the hollows of his cheeks as he begins to tremble and his thrusts turn sloppy. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue before moving to latch onto your neck. Cal wraps a hand around Austin’s throat, pushing his head back and squeezing just enough for his eyes to widen and his mouth to pop open. His blue eyes darken and you think he’s going to put his mouth on you again, but he bypasses you and goes straight for Callum’s collarbone, his perfect, white teeth sinking into Callum’s lovely English skin and biting down, hard. Cal yelps but doesn’t let go of Austin’s neck, and that’s when you feel it, your belly filled with warmth again as Austin pulses and twitches inside you, a stuttered moan muffled into the crook of Callum’s shoulder. He collapses on top of you and Callum, completely and utterly spent, the three of you breathing heavily and unable to move for a few moments. You squirm a tiny bit, trying to take a deep breath with one man plastered to your front and another to your back.

Austin gets the hint and lifts himself back up on shaky arms, slipping out of you with a squelch. You gasp one final time, at the sudden loss of him, and a cold emptiness is left where he once filled you to the brim, almost to breaking. The coldness is replaced quickly by a gushing warmth spilling out of you. You feel Callum suck in a breath, his broad chest expanding beneath you, his right arm still wrapped tightly around your chest.

“Christ, it’s running down my balls,” he wheezes out, taking another shuddering breath.

Austin braces himself against the headboard and slowly disentangles himself, flopping limply beside you on the bed. He looks at you and Cal still entwined, his eyes moving from both of your faces flushed with heat, down to Callum’s arm still tightly wrapped around you, one large, meaty hand gripping your breast, his middle finger absentmindedly pressing the sensitive bud of your nipple down. Austin sucks in breath after breath, and his eyes travel lower, to your legs still splayed wide over Callum’s sturdy thighs, his softening cock still nestled deep inside you, the spend of both men slowly dripping out of you. A sudden flash of possessiveness roars through him - for you, for Callum. For the sacred thing he has with both of you. His face goes numb and his ears start to ring. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

“What is it, Aus?” you whisper, stretching out a hand to him. He looks forlorn, alone on the other side of the bed, his vulnerable face a mix of emotions crashing together all at once, lost and unsure, the gravity of everything settling on his shoulders like a blanket.

“Come back to us.” Your fingertips barely reach to brush his bronzed chest, the little blonde hairs soft against your skin. “Please.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and crawls back over, wrapping his arms around you both and collapsing on top of you again. You’re hilariously squished in the middle of a bear hug now, both men squeezing with all their might, a strange show of masculinity to mask true feelings.

“I can’t breathe….” you manage between giggles. Callum lets out a soft chuckle in your ear, his breath warm against your cheek as his arm shifts beneath you. He digs his fingers into Austin’s armpit and wiggles them around none too gently. Austin bucks against you and squeaks out an uncharacteristically high laugh, trying to squirm out of Cal’s grasp, but it’s too strong and Austin’s body feels like jelly just now.

“Hey! Hey hey, no fair…you know I hate… being… tickled…” Austin grunts out, trying desperately to writhe out of this strange embrace.

Bright, cheerful sunshine spills onto the hotel room floor and across the bed, where it has no right to be at this ungodly hour. It shines in unabashedly, through drapes you forgot to close properly in all of your horny desperation. A little sliver of verdant green Hollywood hills is the only signal from the outside world. In here, somewhere between sleeping and waking, in that hazy early morning dreamland, you register Austin tucked up close behind you, his knees pushing the backs of yours and his warm, heavy arm slung over your waist. This is how you wake up every morning and you scoot your bottom back, into the cradle of his hips, momentarily unaware of the pulverization of your insides. But scenes from last night play out like a clip reel inside your head almost as soon as you’re conscious. You squeeze your eyes tight, refusing to give the sun its due. You stretch your legs gingerly, wiggling your toes against Austin’s, and take stock of things. There’s the obvious ache between your legs - more of a throbbing fire, if the truth is to be told. Your nipples seem to remember the previous evening’s activities as well because they immediately harden and stand at attention. And you can’t feel them yet but you’re pretty sure you have a few bruises, too. Ah well, you think as you yawn lazily, that’s what makeup is for.

You blink one eye open (it’s so bright in here!) and the first thing you encounter is a massive arm right next to your nose, tiny, golden hairs glinting in the sunlight. The second thing you see is Cal, on his belly and sans sheets or clothes, his lush and muscular bottom swelling above the white duvet beneath him. His adorable face is pressed into the pillow next to yours, dark curls swirling across his forehead and day’s worth of stubble dots his jaw. He feels your eyes on him, he’s only been snoozing for a bit, waiting for you two to wake up. He cracks one bright, blue eye open and stares back at you a moment. He senses a rush of what he feels everytime he sees you but this time it’s magnified by endearment and gratitude. Then, his face lights up, still smushed into the pillow and a massive, squinty grin splits his face. Your heart gives a funny little leap inside your chest and you find that your fingers are caressing his cheek softly, of their own volition and you resist the urge to kiss the little freckle under his mouth. He grabs your hand and kisses your fingertips, holding them to his warm lips as he smiles. And suddenly, any worry about things being weird has evaporated, as has any possibility of him being a third wheel. He just belongs.

“Hey! Quit making goo-goo eyes at my girl.” Austin’s gravelly morning voice rumbles from behind you playfully, and quick as lightning the arm still draped around your waist reaches over and smacks Callum’s ass, hard. The slap echoes around the room and you see the pale flesh of his bottom bounce and reverberate with the force of it. Cal, and his red, pillow creased face, jolts forward, yelling and jerking in the sheets, which in turn rubs his raw cock. This causes a chain reaction of events which results in him immediately pulling a sore muscle and flopping back down on the bed, moaning and rubbing his reddening backside.

“No fair, bruv,” he groans into the pillow. “That was too fuckin’ close to my balls.”

Austin chuckles and swats your ass gently for good measure. Slowly, everyone starts to shift and stir. First there are whines about soreness and muscles. Then about how sticky it all is. Then about who’s gonna order room service - but more pressingly, who’s gonna walk to the mini bar and grab a water. And then there’s an argument about who’s voice is less hoarse to call for the food - this ends up being you, hilariously. Then there’s moaning arguments about who is intact enough to wobble to the door and tip the server. In between massive amounts of doting and fretting over you, obviously. The boys are ever attentive, fluffing your pillows and making sure you’re comfortable while they feed you omelets and sausage and pancakes until your energy is restored. Over breakfast in bed, the arguments continue about who’s more bruised up - there’s a nasty bite mark on Cal’s collarbone but the fingerprints around Austin’s neck are a fair rival. There’s a panicked and very male discussion about emergency rooms when you admit you can barely move. But you manage to convince them that a nice, hot soak in the tub would do you wonders right about now. So Austin goes to draw you a bath while Callum helps you out of bed, wrapping a protective arm around your waist, and guiding you to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later you’re starting to feel somewhat restored and a little more like yourself. The boys take turns showering, getting ready for the screening event later today. They go about it quietly though, almost reverently, leaving you to relax in peace. You turn the hot water on again, you’ve soaked so long it’s turning tepid but you’re not ready to relinquish this luxury. You ask Austin to bring you your makeup kit, eying the marks on both of them that need covering up. First Austin, then Callum, one after the other they kneel beside the tub in only their dress pants, chest and feet still bare. There are bruises and hickies and bite marks on clavicles and necks and wrists. Poor Callum, with his delicate, reactionary British skin has what looks like beard burn over half his chest and up the side of his throat. You turn sideways in the fancy clawfoot bathtub, gingerly dabbing concealer here and there, doing the best you can to cover up any evidence of last night's revels. Austin sits patiently, a towel underneath his knees to buffer the hard tile floor, and watches you with his kind, enigmatic ocean eyes. They’re distracting, those eyes, as they watch your face, every blink and every smile.

“What is it, Aus? Something on your mind?” you finally murmur, unable to take such naked contemplation any longer.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” He smooths the hair back from your forehead, rubbing a silky piece between his fingers. “I’m so lucky.”

Callum slouches against the doorway and lets out a quiet hum. “I think you mean we’re lucky, mate. The three of us.”

Tagging some Austin & Callum lovers I know: @jelliedonut @crazymadpassionatelove @elvisabutler @slowsweetlove @stylespresleyhearted @steph-speaks @blurredcolour @pearlparty

#austin butler #callum turner #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner smut #Callum Turner fic #callum turner imagine #the three of us #marina does it again #written by ab4eva

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moonstruckme · 8 days

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Hello, I saw that your requests are open and I would like to ask for something pre-relationship with James. You could write in which the reader recently moved into a building/condominium and she needs help with something, like something that needs a specific tool or dealing with a spider and she asks her neighbor (James) for help? I think it would be something cute, like love at first sight. (I'm sorry if you don't want to write, but I saw a video like this and thought it would be cool to read something about it)

Thanks for requesting lovely!

neighbor!James x fem!reader ♡ 868 words

James almost doesn’t hear the knocking the first time. It’s hardly more than a couple of light taps, like someone might have bumped their bag into his door as they went by. Still, it gets his attention. James pauses in cutting up melon for tomorrow’s breakfast, head angling towards his front door.

It comes again, a bit less tentative this time, and he sets down his knife, wiping his hands on a dishtowel before going to the door.

You’re standing in the hall with your arms crossed tight against the nighttime chill that seeps into the building, wearing fuzzy slippers and what are quite clearly pajamas. You give him James a terse smile, looking somewhere between apologetic and panic-stricken.

“Hi,” you say, at the same time as he says, “Hello.”

Your smile blooms a bit more genuinely at that, and James is glad for it. You’re quite lovely when you look at him like that. It makes him wish he was wearing something other than his pajama bottoms or had brushed his teeth after his garlicky dinner.

“Hi,” you say again. “Um, I’m really sorry to bother you this late, but I’ve just moved in next door and I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

“Of course,” he agrees. No context needed. James prides himself on being neighborly, but he thinks he’d probably do just about anything you ask him to. “What is it?”

“There’s a cockroach in my living room.” You deliver the news with a grave face, like his revoking his offer of help is predetermined. “I’ve been trying to put a cup over it for, like, twenty minutes probably, but it’s too fast and I can’t really corner it by myself.”

“Ah.” James steps outside, closing his door behind him. “Alright, yeah, I’m sure we can take care of that. Lead the way, lovely.”

You take a bolstering breath before stepping into your apartment, making him grin. It really is just right next to his, and this knowledge seems like a dangerous thing to have. James is going to have to start playing his music a tad lower and making sure he looks decent every time he goes outside.

Just inside the door, there’s a broom propped against the wall. You take it up.

“Okay,” you say, awfully serious for someone in fuzzy slippers wielding a broom, “I was thinking I’d get him into that corner there, and then you could put the cup over him.” You nod towards a cup turned facedown on the coffee table. James picks it up. Some of the determination slips from your expression, eyebrows twitching towards each other, as you look at him. “Sorry to drag you into this. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s really fine,” James laughs. “This isn’t the first time someone has called me over to take care of a bug, and you live a lot closer than my mate did at the time.” In the period in between James and Sirius living together and Sirius moving in with Remus, his friend had forced James over to his flat at least twice a week so that he could trap spiders under cups while Sirius shrieked “Kill it! Kill it!” from atop his kitchen table.

You grimace. “Well, it’s good to know you’ve had practice. Okay, last I saw him he was under the couch. Ready?”

James nods, holding the cup in his hand.

You sweep the broom tentatively underneath the couch, starting at one end at working your way to the other. Just when James is starting to come to terms with the idea that the roach has moved to an unknown location, it skitters out from that opposite end.

You go after it with impressive grit, blocking its attempted escape underneath a nearby chair and herding it towards the corner.

“Ready?” You don’t take your eyes from the bug for a second, but James nods anyways as he steps forward, cup held aloft.

The roach runs into the corner, and James descends upon it. He lowers the cup quickly, not wanting the small creature to catch on and rebel against its eviction, but the thing moves quicker.

It flies towards him.

James makes a not-super-dignified yelping sound and trips backward, landing fortunately in the chair. You shriek and swat at it with the broom, missing by a meter. You both track the cockroach as it lands on a wall.

“Fuck,” James breathes. He’s aware that he’s not making a great impression right now, but he feels like he’s just been attacked. “You didn’t tell me it was one of those flying ones!”

“I didn’t think it was!” You’re clutching the broom handle in a white-knuckled grip, your eyes wide. “It wasn’t doing that earlier!”

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, it’s fine. We’ve still got this. Just, ah, if you decide you’d like to abandon this, sleep at my place, and call pest control in the morning, I’m just saying right now that’d be more than alright with me.”

You meet his eyes. “Think I’m gonna try a bit more first, but I might take you up on that. Thanks.”

James grins. “No worries. Always good to have a backup plan.”

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tomriddleslove · 2 months

Text

Devilish.

✩ Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Summary: The one where Mattheo can’t seem to get enough of you, even if you’re ruining him. You’re the only person who keeps him on his toes, and as much as he hates you, he loves the chase. Alternatively: Mattheo is a masochist.

A/N: Two posts in one day? I’m having wayy too much fun with this.

Warnings: Unhealthy relationship, Toxic Behaviour, SMUT MDNI, degradation, choking, p in v!

Songs: Devilish - Chase Atlantic.

Theodore sighs as Mattheo walks into the room, throwing his bag down with a little too much force. Draco’s eyes flicker up from his book, outstretched on his bed as he meets Theodore's eyes with an amused gaze.

“Again?” Blaise hums, not looking up from the potions essay he had been pouring over for the past 4 days. Mattheo huffs a sigh of agreement, fishing around in his pocket for a joint. He places the blunt between his perfectly plush lips, lighting it wordlessly as he takes a deep drag.

“Come on, Mattheo. Surely enough is enough at some point?” Theodore frowns, watching Mattheo with a look of both concern and frustration. Mattheo exhales a cloud of smoke, his gaze distant as he leans back against the wall.

"You know how it is, Theo," Mattheo mutters. "I can't help it."

Theodore shakes his head, resisting the urge to reach out and slap some sense into his stubborn friend as he speaks. "But she's toxic for you, man. You're constantly on edge, always getting pissed off. It's not healthy."

Mattheo's jaw tightens, the muscles working as he takes another drag from the blunt. "I know, I know," he grumbles.

“Why don't you leave her? You could have any girl in the castle,” Draco hums, closing his book.

“To be fair, she really is something else.” Blaise muses, and Draco snickers. Mattheo shoots them both a warning glance and they shut up rather quickly.

“Doesn’t matter. They’re always fighting, and I can't remember the last time a week has gone by without you two breaking up.” Theodore points out, his voice almost exasperated.

Mattheo remains silent for a second, choosing to ignore the way Draco rolls his eyes as he looks at Theodore.

"I can't just leave her," he grumbles, his voice tinged with resignation. "It's not that simple."

Theodore lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. "This is beyond pussy whipped. You’re actually just going to let her get to you like that?”

Mattheo shrugs, stubbing out the partially consumed blunt as he pushes himself off the floor.

Before he has the chance to respond, Blaise speaks.

“Enough. Stop with this depressing shit. Go get your shit done and come to Barlow’s party tonight. You need to get drunk, get laid, and get your mind off of her.” Blaise says, getting up from the desk as he crams his work into his bag.

“I’m going to hand this to Snape before he has my balls.” He declares, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Draco nods in agreement, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, Blaise is right. You need a night out, mate. Forget about her for once."

“Alright alright, whatever,” Mattheo says dismissively, leaving Theodore’s room.

He walks back to his dorm, lost in his own thoughts.

He can't exactly pinpoint where it all went downhill. Perhaps it was doomed from the start. Mattheo remembers the day you first joined, taking a seat next to him in transfiguration. It was extremely odd for a student to transfer so late into the school year but he could only assure you had already been acquainted with the N.E.W.T content beforehand, so it was merely a matter of being in a new environment. You remained silent as the teacher spoke, but the second she set you off on your practical task (transfiguring a toad to a toadstool), you leaned back in your chair, flashing the skin that peeked out from the top of your thigh highs, sent him an impish grin and spoke, your voice sweet like honey.

It was established from that day that the two of you had something going on. It was never an official thing, but you frequented Mattheo’s bed more often than your own, and you certainly weren’t privy to messy makeout sessions in the far corner of the common room. As much as everyone yearned to get their hands on the new girl, Mattheo had swooped in and taken her for himself from day one. It only made you all the more desirable when people realised you were a challenge for Mattheo too.

Usually, all the girls Mattheo got with were pushovers, fawning over him and willing to do anything to get into his good graces. You were the opposite, however, stubborn and headstrong. You led him on and ghosted him. You were hot and cold, all over him one minute then swearing at him the next. You had him wrapped around your finger, and he hated you.

But god, he loved it.

It was always the same story, get together, do something stupid, get into an argument, rile each other up until you hate fuck and then get back together. It was almost monotonous to others, but to Mattheo, it was a sick form of addiction, the highs he felt massively outweighing the toll it was taking on him.

The way you would tease him, push his buttons, drive him to the edge of madness, only to pull him back in with a single glance or touch? It was a vicious cycle, one that left him feeling drained and empty, yet strangely craving more. You were enough to bring any man to their knees, and Mattheo was no different.

He collapses onto his bed, and the faint smell of your perfume has him reeling once more. He can’t tell whether he loves or despises it, but that was the case for many things with you and Mattheo.

As Mattheo lay on his bed, grappling with his thoughts, his phone buzzed with a new message notification. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the screen, before finally giving in to the temptation and unlocking his phone.

… : You coming to the party tonight?

Of course, you’d be there. You’d always be there.

Parties were often the main reason the two of you would start fighting. You’d let some guy get too handsy with you, or Mattheo would let girls grind all over him. He even recalls the last time you were straight-up making out with a girl from Ravenclaw right in front of him.

With a resigned sigh, he types out a response.

Mattheo: Yeah, I’ll be there.

He types something out, his finger hovering over the send button. Fuelled by a mixture of hate, pettiness and amusement, he hits send.

Mattheo: You sure you should be going? You cant really handle your alcohol that well darling.

… is typing

… has sent a chat!

… : Funny coming from someone who always seems to stumble out of the party into another girl’s bed.

Mattheo huffs out a laugh, tossing his phone onto his bed as he gets up, and goes to take a shower.

Mattheo navigates the empty corridors of Hogwarts, seemingly silent. As he approaches the Room of Requirement, the sound of music pounding against the walls becomes almost deafening, vibrating through the air like a palpable force. The Ravenclaws certainly were smart buggers, having created a spell that only alerts someone of the noise if they were intended to be there. It's the very same reason Professor Snape billowed past the room mere minutes ago without suspecting a thing.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Mattheo is greeted by a wave of heat and energy, the room alive with the pulsating rhythm of the music. Coloured lights flash in time with the beat, casting ever-changing patterns across the faces of the partygoers.

The air is thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol, mingling with the sweet undertones of perfume and cologne. Bodies press together on the makeshift dance floor, moving in sync with the music, lost in the euphoria of the moment.

Mattheo takes it all in with a sense of detachment, his eyes scanning the crowd for familiar faces. He spots Blaise and Draco near the makeshift bar, their laughter echoing over the din of the music as they pass around a bottle of fire whiskey.

He navigates his way through the throng of people, ignoring the roamning hands of random girls as he approaches his friends.

Blaise claps him on the back, offering him the bottle of fire whiskey they had been sharing earlier. Draco flashes him a knowing smirk, raising his own drink in a silent toast to their reunion.

"Good to see you, mate," Blaise says, his voice barely audible over the pounding music. "We were starting to think you'd never show."

Mattheo accepts the bottle with a nod of thanks, taking a long swig of the fiery liquid. The burn of the alcohol sends a shiver down his spine, momentarily distracting him .

"Where's [name]?" Mattheo asks, his voice betraying a hint of curiosity mixed with resignation.

His friends exchange uneasy glances, their expressions shifting with a mixture of sympathy and discomfort.

Theo clears his throat, his gaze flickering towards the dance floor. "She's over there," he says, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.

Mattheo follows his friend's gaze, his jaw clenching as he catches site of you.

Dressed in a tight corset top that left little to the imagination and a short skirt, you threw your head back, letting the guy behind you run his hands all over your body as you dance to the rhythm.

The lights flash over the dance floor, illuminating you in a way that makes you seem dangerously alluring. Even in such a position where Mattheo hates you, he can’t help but feel drawn in by you.

Like a siren of sorts, beckoning him with your call to his untimely demise, he stood no chance.

Mattheo's grip tightens around the bottle of whiskey, his knuckles turning white as he watches you dance with the other guy. A surge of anger rushes through him, clouding his already hazy mind.

Without a second thought, Mattheo drains the rest of the whiskey in one swift motion, before slamming the bottle down with a force that has Lorenzo and Blaise exchanging wary looks.

Pushing through the crowded dance floor, Mattheo makes his way towards you, his jaw set in determination. As he approaches, he can hear the faint sound of your laughter mingling with the music, only further fuelling his anger.

The guy dancing with you leans in, pressing his lips to your neck in a possessive gesture that sets Mattheo's blood boiling. In a fit of rage, he reaches out, grabbing the guy by the collar and pulling him away from you with a forceful shove.

The guy stumbles back, caught off guard by Mattheo's sudden aggression. Before he has a chance to react, Mattheo's fist connects with his jaw in a swift, punishing blow.

The guy staggers backwards, clutching his jaw in pain as he glares at Mattheo with shock . Without a word, he lunges forward, fists flying as the two of them fight.

Mattheo fights with the intent to kill, delivering blow after sickening blow till the sound of crunching is reduced to nothing. His knuckles burn, his own blood mixing with the blood of the poor tosser who was trying to make a move on you.

“Mattheo, enough!” Theo snaps, drawing Mattheo out of his trance-like state as he pulls Mattheo off the boy. He’s practically unresponsive on the floor, groaning as he clutches his face. By this point the room is near silent, the crowd completely parted to leave Mattheo, Theo, Blaise, the boy and you.

Mattheo looks up at you and he can tell you are furious. Without saying a word you grab him by the scruff of the shirt, dragging him outside. He stumbles after you as you pull him along, your steps firm and assured as you practically haul him back to his room.

You push him through the door, slamming it behind you as you turn to face him. He opens to mouth to speak but is cut off when you meet him with a swift slap to the face, his head jerking to the side.

“You fucking prick.” You snap, thrusting your hand into the curls at the nape of his neck as you smash your lips onto his.

Mattheo stumbles back, caught off guard by the force of the slap and the sudden intensity of the kiss. His head reels, pain and desire coursing through his veins. His hands instinctively reach out, gripping your waist tightly as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a raw hunger.

His lips move against yours with a desperate need, the taste of firewhiskey and blood creating a heady mix that drives you mad.

Mattheo's hands roam your body, groping your ass with a firm squeeze as he presses you against the door, eliciting a small whimper from your lips.

You retaliate by tugging at his curls, biting his lower lip with a small grin amidst the kiss. You lap up the blood, and the action has Mattheo lifting you up and throwing you onto his bed before you can even comprehend it.

His hands move lower, slipping under your skirt, caressing your thighs with a possessive touch. He can feel the wetness between your thighs, driving him to the brink of madness.

Mattheo breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looks into your eyes, dark with desire and anger. "You hate me," he mutters, his voice laced with arousal. "But I can feel how much you want me."

Mattheo's fingers graze the edge of your panties, teasingly tracing the outline before slipping underneath, feeling how wet you were. He smirks at the pathetic whimper that escapes your lips, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of triumph and lust.

“You’re fucking soaked.” He murmurs, one hand coming down to undo his belt as he thrusts his two fingers into your mouth, causing you to gag.

“Taste how fucking needy you are for me.” He growls, throwing his belt to the side as he tugs his jeans down.

You suck on his fingers obediently, partly terrified yet incredibly turned on as you look up at him. You pull off with a wet pop, biting your lower lip as Mattheo groans.

He teases your slit with the tip of his cock, eliciting a low moan from you as he aligns with your entrance.

In one swift thrust he fills you up to the brim, paying no mind to your gasps as he sets a punishing pace. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, surely leaving marks as his hips snap into you with a ferocity that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fu- Fuck. ‘s too much.” You babble, back arching off the bed as your hands fly up to grasp onto Mattheo. Your nails dig into his shoulders, a plethora of whimpers escaping your lips. You felt as though he was splitting you open with every rock of his hips, sending you hurtling towards your climax embarrassingly quickly.

Mattheos lips curl into a wicked grin, his tone taunting as he speaks.

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? Grinding all over that prick just because you needed me to fuck you.” He taunts.

His hips continue to move with an unyielding rhythm, each thrust hitting a sweet spot within you that sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

He leans down, nipping and kissing at the skin of your neck as he trails open mouth kisses down your décolleté.

His hands roam your body, gripping your breasts roughly, yanking your top off.

“Ah- Mattheo,” You gasp, nails scratching down his back as mascara streaks down your cheeks. The sound of skin slapping against skin is positively sinful, and the sight is heavenly to Mattheo.

“Shit-“ Mattheo grunts, a low groan escaping his lips as his free hand comes down to massage your clit in light circles. His other hand ghosts the expanse of your neck, giving it an experimental squeeze. “Squeezing me so tightly. Gonna cum f’me?” He murmurs, a sadistic grin on his face.

You feel the familiar coil knotting in your stomach, groaning lowly as you wrap your legs around Mattheo.

“Close,” You manage to choke out, overwhelmed by pleasure. You can’t focus on anything but the feeling of Mattheo’s cock dragging against your walls with every thrust, sending you into a haze. His thrusts become sloppier, and you know he’s close too.

He growls in response to your desperate admission, his own desire reaching its peak as he feels your walls clenching around him. He quickens his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic and desperate.

With each thrust, Mattheo can feel the pressure building within him, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

"Fuck," he groans your name, his voice filled with lust. He wipes a tear from your cheek using his thumb before forcing that same thumb into your mouth, a devilish grin on his face as he does so.

His grip on your neck tightens, his fingers digging into your skin possessively. The mixture of pleasure and pain pushing you both closer to the edge of release.

“Fuck, Mattheo!” You moan, the coil snapping as you reach your peak. Your body convulses beneath him, clenching around him tightly as you practically ascend to the heavens and back.

“Shit- What a sight.” He mutters, thrusting into you a few more times before his hips stall, finding his own release. He buries himself deep inside you, a groan escaping his lips as he squeezes your hips ever so slightly tighter.

You whimper at the loss of contact as he pulls out, collapsing next to you with a small sigh. He mutters a cleaning charm, ridding you of the sticky feeling between your thighs as you use what little strength you have left to move and rest your head on his chest.

His heart is pounding, still coming down from his high as he reaches over to his bedside table. He places a cigarette between his lips, the flame from the lighter illuminating the side of his face for a second. You admire the defined contours of his jaw, and the scatterings of purple and red that trail down his neck.

He wraps an arm around you, taking a drag of his cigarette as you look up at him. You pluck the cigarette from him, taking a drag yourself before passing it back.

Merlin, you were a horrible person but an addictive thing.

@schaebickel @multifandom-worlds @mildlyuninformative @lillywildly @gillyweeds @anti-hero03

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo smut #slytherin smut

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nathaslosthershit · 2 months

Text

Trips to See the In-Laws (LS2)

Summary: In order to save his teammate from an interviewer with not so innocent thoughts, Alex has to reveal that his thought-to-be-single friend, Logan, is actually in a long term relationship.

“Alex, Logan, so wonderful to have you both here with me today. Now that we are rapidly approaching the first race of the season, how are you both feeling? How was both your breaks?”

“Well firstly, thank you for having us. It has honestly been crazy. Break has gone by fast and with all the training we’ve been doing, I honestly feel ready to just jump in the car and start back up.” Logan replies.

It was no secret that Logan Sargeant had been training much more during the off season, everyone had seen how much he had changed. The way the interviewer was staring at him though, as if he was their next meal, was making him shift uncomfortably in the seat.

Alex, being as perceptive as ever, immediately saw the change in Logan’s demeanor. He was confused by it until he saw how the interviewer shifted closer to Logan, eyeing him up and down in a very flirtatious manner. He then chimed in to try and alleviate the tension. “Yeah, busy break but we have been putting in the work and I think we are both ready for this upcoming season.”

“You both look very different from the start of last year. Alex with your hair and Logan has gotten very, very fit.” Dammit, this interviewer really wasn’t going to let it go, Alex thought.

“Um yeah, we are both pretty different looks wise.” Alex weakly responded. What was he supposed to say, the interviewer didn’t exactly ask a question.

“I was in a pretty bad state at the end of last season, both mentally and physically. I worked really hard this off season to improve both of those things and gained 5 kilos. I feel much better now that I am at a more healthy weight and I think it just cements how much more learning and growing I needed last year.” God, how can the interviewer continue to try and eye fuck Logan while he gives such a sincere and vulnerable answer, Alex wonders. He knew he needed to help his teammate and friend in some way, but the idea that came to mind might have some consequences. But surely it was better than the alternative of letting Logan get harassed.

“Well Logan, you took some time to travel a bit since being here in New York” Alex teased.

“Ohhh, where did you go Logan?” the interviewer asked, intrigued at the blush on Logan’s face that had appeared as he picked up on where Alex was trying to go with this.

“Well actually, my girlfriend is originally from New york and still has family that live outside the city so they very kindly invited me to visit them and watch the Superbowl. She wasn’t too happy that I got to see her family while she is stuck in London but also was ecstatic that they clearly like me enough to invite me to visit even when she isn’t with me. It was sweet and such a kind gesture, definitely beats spending that night watching the game in a hotel room alone.”

“Hey, I would have watched with you. You wouldn't have been alone” Alex said, offended.

“Mate, you did not have any actual interest in watching the game.” Logan responded.

“But I still would have kept you company.”

Before the two could continue their fight, the interviewer bursted out a very aggressively asked “Girlfriend?”

The two were quiet then, not knowing what to say. The interviewer wasn’t looking at Logan like a piece of meat anymore, but now he had to deal with this sudden hard launch of his relationship.

“Uh yeah, I have been in a relationship for a while now. Met my girlfriend when I moved to London. We lived in the same apartment and had moved in around the same time. Insane luck, I guess.” Logan answered, still blushing.

“Leave it to Logan to find the one other American in his apartment complex and immediately start dating her.” Alex teased.

“Hey! It was a coincidence and she is from New York while I’m from Florida, they are practically two different countries.”

“Yeah whatever.” Alex rolled his eyes playfully.

The interviewer, now upset at practically getting rejected, stopped asking questions and just watched as the two Willaims drivers took over the interview, rambling, and teasing each other, till it was time to end it.

The interview had immediately gained popularity once it had been posted. Not many drivers hard launch the way Logan did and while Logan hadn't anticipated that this was how his relationship was found out, he did have to thank Alex for getting him out of that situation.

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, and 73,355 others

logansargeant My favorite New Yorker 💙

#f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #logan sargeant x reader #ls2 x reader #ls2 imagine #alex albon x reader

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lilac-witch · 26 days

Note

Hi cute! how are you? I hope you're well! You could write about Az returning with Feyre from training and they are talking and Az is so unfocused that he doesn't notice that there is another person in the room besides the ic, so y/n screams and runs out to hug Az and they're over. falling to the ground haha they are best friends who have feelings for each other. Y/n had been away on a mission and didn't know Feyre but she knew her from EVERYTHING Az had been telling her jandjsmcjsldk thanks baby

First request! Super sweet ask and a great idea :)

Gadzooks - Azriel x Reader

masterlist | part 2

Summary: After weeks away on a mission, Y/n returns to her family in the Night Court, with the addition of a new member. And thanks to Azriel, she feels like they've known each other forever. Meaning: "an exclamation of surprise or annoyance" Word Count: 658 Warnings: None.

------------

"A letter has arrived for you, m'lady."

Y/n's head drifted from the paperwork before her, to the Peregryn male situated at the door. She motioned for him to come forward, receiving the envelope swiftly.

Once the male had left, Y/n tore into the white paper.

Dear Y/n

So much has happened since you left for Dawn. Feyre is officially living in Velaris, and I've taken over her training regiment. Let's just say her technique could use some work.

She's great though, perfectly suited for Rhys. If only the stubborn bastard would finally confess to her that they're mates.

I miss you. Cassian is as annoying as ever, and Rhys is so busy fretting over Feyre, so there isn't anyone to really talk to.

I hope everything is going well in Dawn, and I can't wait to see you again.

Your loyal friend, Azriel.

Y/n smiled as she finished reading through the letter. Over the many weeks that she had spent in Dawn Court, Azriel had kept her up to date on all things Feyre-related. From their first meeting, to the trauma she'd endured, Y/n knew it all.

Perhaps it was time she returned home. It was coming up on three months since she'd left, and Thesan seemed to no longer require her services. Yes, it was time to return to Velaris.

-------------

"You did well today," Azriel said as he and Feyre strode through the halls of the House of Wind.

"I feel like I'm getting stronger. The regimes no longer hurt so much," she laughed.

"Well then, maybe they could do with an upgrade," Azriel stated, lips twitching upwards into a smirk.

"Don't you dare, Shadowsinger."

Azriel was about to open his mouth in retort, when a solid object collided with his body, propelling him towards the floor.

Azriel would have been concerned regarding his shadows' lack of vigilence, or even his own instincts having not kicked it, had it not been for the warm vanilla scent that filled his nose.

"Y/n..." he mutter, arms wrapping around her warm body. "When did you get back?"

"A little while ago," she muttered into his neck, hot breath hitting his skin in the most delectable way.

"I missed you," he whispered.

"I missed you too, Az."

The heartfelt moment didn't last long, courtesy of his brother.

"If you two lovebirds are done, I believe introductions are in order."

Azriel glared daggers into Cassian's skull, doing his damnedest to keep the blush that crept up his neck, at bay.

He helped Y/n up, hands lingering on her waist for a second longer than what just 'friends' would do.

Rhysand cleared his throat, stepping towards the female at his side.

"Feyre, meet Y/n, the last member of our inner circle, and my most trusted emissary. Y/n meet Feyre..."

"I've heard all about you," Y/n stated, mouth spread wide in a smile. "All good things of course."

Feyre's face grew warm, and her eyes met Azriel's.

"Is that so?"

Y/n nodded, taking a cautious step forward, before wrapping an arm around Feyre, guiding her towards the kitchen.

"Indeed it is, and what better way to get to know me than over a cup of tea. Has Azriel mentioned I make a mean cup of tea?"

"He has not," Feyre stated, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

"Hm, how rude," Y/n huffed, smiling at Azriel as the pair disappeared from sight.

He felt his stomach flutter at the sight of that beautiful smile. It had been too long since he'd last seen it.

"You know, you complain about me not confessing to Feyre, but I've had to watch you tiptoe around Y/n for over a century," Rhys drawled, a teasing smirk on his obnoxiously handsome face.

"No one asked you," Azriel grumbled, heading in the direction the two females had gone, in hopes of escaping more of his brother's playful jabs.

------------

And I'm back!

it feels so good to be able to write again, and to be able to bring your requests to life. A reminder that my inbox is open to all your dreams and wishes ;)

Until next time lovelies :)

#acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #rhysand #cassian #feyre archeron #dawn court #thesan

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magics-neptunes-things · 2 months

Text

Good 4 U

Hello there!

I hope you’re all great. This story is just out of my imagination, but enjoy anyway, I guess ♥ Also Caitlin and Lia are always a thing in this word.

TW: Reader! Wälti, no other I think.

PART 2 | PART 3

______________________________________________________________

Unlike your older sister Lia, you are not wise and quiet. You have trouble concentrating and you aren't necessarily interested in the idea of landing somewhere. You and Lia don’t have the same character, but that never stopped you from loving each other a lot. You’d do anything for your older sister who’s only 10 months older than you. And you know she would do anything in return for you. You and her were almost like twins and even if you wasn't planned, you parents always loved you the way they love Lia.

You travel all the time, leaving one place when you're getting tired to visit another corner of the world. You are sociable and have no trouble making contacts with anyone, to find a job or to make new friends. You are lucky to be able to remember the different languages in the countries you visit. You speak German from birth, you are bilingual in English and you talk other new languages like spanish or italian.

For now, you are in London with your sister for a week. The last time you stayed in London with Lia was last year when her life was a little more complicated than now. This time, you decided to come to see her just because you missed her and wanted to be with her for her birthday. You contacted Leah to help you surprise her, and you congratulate yourself for filming Lia's reaction when you walked into her living room following Leah.

When Lia told you about a karaoke night with her friends, most of them from Arsenal, you didn't hesitate a single second before accepting. You already know Caitlin obviously and Leah, who you met when she came in Switzerland last year. You met some of the girls last time you came in London, but you don't know all of them. This is a good occasion to met them.

Despite the time set at 9pm, not everyone arrived on time but this didn't prevent the people already present from starting to have fun. You’ve already shared a song with Steph and another with Leah. And you’re choosing the song you’re going to sing with Lia when Katie finally makes her appearance in the establishment.

When the music started, Katie was greeting everyone and sat at one of the tables surrounded by a bench, reserved for the night.

She's sitting with Caitlin, Leah, Kyra and Alessia when her gaze mechanically refers to you when you start singing. And her gesture stops immediately when she looks at you, her arm halfway between her mouth and the table as she was getting ready to drink.

"You alright mate?" laughs Kyra

"Who’s the girl with Wally?" Katie asks, blinking.

"Her little sister. Why?" asks Leah, bowing her eyebrow.

But Katie doesn’t answer, completely hypnotized by you. She just can’t take her eyes off you, your face, your body and anything else that can be part of you.

"It's Wally’s sister?" ended up repeating Katie before glancing at Caitlin. "Damn, you’re shagging the wrong Wälti, Caitlin."

"You’re disgusting" Caitlin says, rolling her eyes.

Leah laughs softly next to Katie and the Irish girl seems to reminding something. She turns herself a little to look at Leah before talking.

"Wait, this is the sister you met last year?"

"Yes?" answer a frowning Leah.

"And you didn't try anything with her?"

Katie’s tone let perfectly passes the disbelief she feels at this idea. But Leah rolls her eyes again.

"She’s Lia’s little sister. She would have killed me. And she’ll kill you too if you try anything with her"

Katie responds with a throat sound before finally bringing her drink to her lips. And from then on, she won’t leave you until your song is finished. Katie recognized Olivia Rodrigo’s song "Good 4 u" and she briefly wonders if it means anything to you and Lia.

When the song ends, Lia approaches the table where Katie is installed while you take the opportunity to go to the toilet. If Caitlin greets your sister with a big smile, making her sit on her lap, Leah can’t help but drop the information to Lia.

"Your sister caught Katie’s eyes" Leah announces with a big smile.

This causes a growl from Katie who hoped to try a discreet approach with you and a frown from Lia, who quickly takes off from Caitlin to lean towards Katie.

"Stay away from her Katie, I’m not kidding"

Katie raises both hands as a sign of abandonment, not without rolling her eyes.

"Looks like I’m the devil in person" Katie growls before finishing her drink.

"She was hurt once and since then has been traveling around the world. I want to see her again before Christmas 2025."

"Okay, okay, I get it" sighs gently, Katie. "I’ll get myself a drink."

After asking if anyone wanted something, Katie gets up to order herself a drink, deciding to go to the other side to have less to wait. And Lia will not be able to tell her anything, because it's finally you who approaches her first. You come to order yourself a drink too and you have no trouble recognizing the teammate of your big sister, that you watch play as soon as you can.

"You're Katie, right? I'm Y/N, Lia's sister" you smile before reaching out to greet her.

"Yes, that's me. Nice to meet ya" Katie grins, taking your hand in hers, squeezing it maybe a little to long.

Your eyes cross and you find yourself becoming aware of the beauty of the young woman who stands before you. You first notice her blue eyes and then her smile that you quickly find mesmerizing.

You are interrupted in your moment by the server who finally takes your orders. And, while Katie passes her command, you discreetly let your gaze slide on her forms. How did you not realize before how breathtaking she was?

"Lia told me you travel a lot" Katie says, turning to you to resume your conversation.

"Oh, yes… I just came back from New Zealand" you explain with a smile, before starting on an explanation of your last trip.

The minutes pass quickly as you chat with her and then you find yourself interested in her and her life. There’s something about Katie that hypnotizes you and you could honestly spend hours listening to her and laughing at what she’s telling you. You like her humor, the sound of her voice and it’s a little destabilizing for you to find yourself so impacted by someone so quickly.

"Do you want to get some fresh air?" Katie says after realizing you’ve been talking for a while.

You accept with pleasure and you follow her on the outdoor terrace of the establishment, Katie seems to know this place very well. Which is probably not surprising since Lia told you they come often.

"Here" simply makes Katie by dropping her jacket on your bare arms after seeing you shiver.

"Thank you" you answer with a sincere smile.

You move a little away from the entrance to not be in the way and you lean against a wall looking up to look at the stars. However, you gently frown when you see that they are not visible. You forgot they’re hard to see from central London.

"When are you leaving again?" asks Katie while looking at you.

You leave the sky with your eyes to carry them over her before gently shrugging your shoulders with a smile.

"I haven’t decided yet. Why?"

"I was wondering if you would give me your phone number so we could meet again, before you leave."

You bite your lip briefly while observing her. You are not sure if it's a good idea, you will probably leave soon and you know that it would probably not lead to much. But you’d be lying if you said the Irish girl didn’t tease your curiosity.

"Okay" you end up answering before you pick up her phone and put your number on it.

A big smile is born on Katie’s face and you don’t know her enough yet to realize that it’s a frank smile and not the sufficient smile she likes to have to provoke her opponents. Her phone in her pocket, Katie settles next to you, leaning against the wall like you.

"Do you like to look at the stars?" asked Katie.

"It’s probably one of the things I prefer to do" you admit without hesitation. "But it’s difficult from here"

"I know a place where they can be seen. You want to go see?"

********

"I just ran into Katie running away with a pretty blonde" laughs Victoria who just arrived while sitting at Lia’s table.

"I’m going to kill her" the Swiss woman announces, noting that you have also disappeared.

Kyra’s sigh sound out at the same time as Leah’s facepalm. Caitlin masks her amused smile behind Lia’s head, but she is nevertheless surprised by Alessia who smiles back at her.

********

You suspect a little the annoyance that Lia must feel and you feel in spite of yourself a slight guilt at the idea of not enjoying her birthday party with her. But you take a look at Katie after you get out of her car and you quickly realize that she’s genuinely happy to show you this place.

"What’s your favorite constellation?" Katie asks you when you’re both sitting in the grass.

"Aquila" you answer by pointing to the place in the sky where it is. "And you?"

"I didn’t have one until now, but it could become my favorite" Katie replies with a smirk.

You laugh slowly and you turn your head in her direction, to see that Katie rolled to the side and that she’s looking at you. You feel yourself blushed and you’re pretty glad it’s dark and Katie can’t see it. But you don’t let her out of your sight and you decide to play her game.

"What is your astrological sign?" you ask.

"Virgo"

"Well maybe my favorite constellation is going to be Virgo then"

Katie laughs softlyand, taking a sudden aspiration, you gently take her hand in yours. Katie lets you and you find that her skin is pleasantly warm and soft against yours. You shift your attention to the sky above you, feeling Katie’s gaze stay on you. But it doesn’t bother you, it’s not the kind of heavy look that makes you uncomfortable. You feel good and safe with her, despite what Lia seems to think.

It’s almost two o'clock in the morning when Katie takes you home to your sister, whose keys you have so you can get in and out whenever you want.

"I hope I’m not interrupting a private celebration" you grin maliciously at Katie, who insisted on accompanying you to the front door.

"If there is going to be a celebration tonight it will probably be to celebrate my death" laughs Katie before explaining, when you turn an interrogative look in her direction "I was not supposed to approach you tonight. Lia has warned me"

"Why did you do it then?" you ask curiously while searching through your purse while looking at it.

"Technically, it was you who approached me" Katie replies with a satisfied smile. "But I’m very happy about it."

You smile back at her and you probably look at each other for a few seconds too long, before you come out of your trance and regain your self-confidence.

"I’ll defend your cause, if you want" you joke softly.

"See me again and it will have been well worth it."

You smile again and bite your lip briefly. You really want to kiss her, but maybe it’s too early for that. You step forward and put a kiss on her cheek instead before backing away again and opening the door.

"Go home safely"

"I will" answers Katie with a smile. "Good night"

"Sweet dreams"

The house is empty when you enter and you assume that either Lia is not back yet, or she went to Caitlin’s. You go undress and remove your makeup and it's when you are writing to your sister to inform her that you came home when you receive a message from an unknown number.

From Unknow I came home safely. Sleep tight beautiful x

From You Sleep well too. We talk soon x

********

Lia looked at you with skepticism when you told her that nothing happened with Katie, unless looking at the stars and learning to know her. Since her breakup, Katie had a lot of fling and Lia obviously didn't want you to fall for the Irish girl before being ignored by her.

Katie and you wrote to each others a lot during the past days and you find yourself smiling every time she texted you. When she asked you on a date, you accepted with a second thought.

Katie take you to an Irish restaurant, she looked almost outraged to learn that you have never been to Ireland during your many travels. You had a great evening and when she brought you back you vaguely hoped for a kiss but Katie just gently kissed your cheek before smiling with affection. She then waited until you go inside to leave. Then you started texting each other almost all the day, every day.

From Katie ✨ u going to the game today?

From You I am :) why?

From Katie ✨ Would you let me take you for a brunch before ?

From You I would love to

From Katie ✨ Great. I'm taking you at 10 xx

You almost turned the cupboard in which you installed your clothes in your sister’s guest room to find a proper outfit. You ended up opting for a simple outfit, comfortable but nevertheless different from what you can wear every day. Once ready, you go to the kitchen, in which you find only Catlin in the company of her cup of coffee and a toast with…

"Vegemite?" you ask with a smirk

"Lia always has a jar for me in her cupboards" replies the Australian with amusement.

"How romantic" you laugh softly

You take a glass of water, realizing rather quickly that Caitlin observes you over the cup of coffee that she holds with two hands. Since she and Lia got together, the Australian has taken on the role of your big sister too. You obviously can’t compare the connection you have with her with the one you have with Lia, but you appreciate her enormously.

"Are you going out?"

"Yes" you just answer

"With Katie?"

You don't have time to respond with the positive or negative that Lia’s voice is heard behind you. Obviously she must appear when the name of the Irish is pronounced.

"What, Katie?" Lia asks, bowing her eyebrow.

"I'm going to a brunch with her" you explain softly with a sigh. "Look, don’t make that face, I know you don’t want anything but to protect me, but if it makes you happy… Nothing ever happened between us, if it turns out she’s not even interested in anything but friendship with me"

You gently shrug your shoulders and carefully avoid Lia’s gaze. You don’t necessarily want your older sister to see how depressed you are about this idea. But it's Caitlin who speaks again, although she's peacefully returned to reading her diary.

"Or she takes the time to do things right with you because you mean something to her" she points out without looking at you.

You frown thoughtfully at her, but Caitlin doesn’t add anything. Lia gets closer to you though, gently laying her hand on yours.

"What would make me happy is that you are too. I just want you to be happy and make sure no one can hurt you any more."

"I’ll be fine, Lia, I promise" you assure her with a little smile. "I learned from my mistakes"

Lia pout a little and when your phone vibrates in your pocket when Katie writes to you that she has arrived and that she waits for you, you take your big sister in your arms.

"I love you" you say before you kiss her cheek.

"I love you too. See you at the game?"

With a smile you nod before leaving the house. Your smile widens when you see Katie waiting for you, leaning against the front of her car.

"You look stunning" Katie smiles looking at your outfit.

"You’re not bad yourself"

Katie is dressed in her training kit, ready for the game and you find it strangely sexy. Unlike other times you have seen her, you don't hesitate to greet her with a hug and then let her take you by the hand to train you to the passenger door of the car.

The establishment that Katie has chosen is between Lia’s house and the stadium, the Irish girl explaining to you that it's a place that she loves and that has the advantage of not being too well known by the general public. It seems to have its habits and even if you don't necessarily appreciate the big smile with which the waitress welcomes Katie, you are quickly satisfied by the hand that she puts in your back to guide you to her usual table.

As always, the discussion is pleasant. You have to admit you did some research on Katie, but you feel like the Katie that people can see on the football field is different from the one you see every day. The Katie you know is sweet, attentive, considerate and charming. You have the impression that she really listens to you and that she seems particularly interested in what you tell her, no matter what it is.

And the butterflies that you have in the hollow of your belly when her fingers touch your hand while taking the salt are rather very pleasant. However, you regret not knowing if things are really shared or if Katie is only interested in friendship with you.

"Can I ask you a question?" asks Katie, her blue eyes watching you attentively over her cup of tea.

"Of course" you answer with a little smile.

"When she asked me not to come near you, Lia mentioned a romantic relationship that ended badly. I’m not asking you to tell me everything, but if you have any residual trauma or like that…"

Of course Lia mentioned your old relationship with Katie. On the other hand, you can’t blame her, after learning about the various deceptions of your ex-girlfriend, it was so painful that you never set foot in Switzerland again and you never saw your family again for a year. It apparently left your sister with trauma as well.

"As long as you don’t lie to me or hide things from me, it should be okay" you mumble and shrug.

Katie looks funny and you briefly get lost in your thoughts until the Irish woman gently takes your hand in hers. When you look up at her, she smiles softly at you, her eyes immensely sweet.

"No matter what happens, I will never. I promise"

You smile softly at her, losing yourself in her eyes. Katie changes the subject and when it’s time to leave for the stadium, you have the impression that the time has passed much too quickly.

"Do you mind if someone sees you get out of my car? There are often fans waiting for us in the parking lot, they cannot access it but they wait behind the gates. I can drop you off if you want" Katie asks when you’re about to arrive.

"I don’t care" you assure her by tapping on her arm.

You didn’t expect her to grab your hand with hers to interlace your fingers, but this gesture is rather pleasant.

Katie was right, you barely got out of the car when you heard some people calling her name. The young woman having advised you not to pay attention to it, you follow her inside the corridors in the colors of Arsenal without turning once your glance towards the fans.

"Shall I leave you there?" asks Katie once right outside the door that’s supposed to take you to the VIP corner, where Lia booked you a seat.

You nod with a slight smile. You know the way now.

"Thanks for the invitation. I had a great time"

"So do I" Katie says, smiling as well. "You still don’t know when you’re leaving, right?"

"Maybe soon. I don’t know yet"

You gently shrug your shoulders, but you don’t miss the disappointment that briefly passes over Katie’s face after her smile drop.

"Oh… okay. Well, I’ll see you soon, I guess?"

"Yeah" you smile softly.

Katie gives you a little smile, but it’s only when she turns her heels in the direction of the changing rooms that you walk forward two steps and you take the floor again.

"Katie?"

"Yes?"

The Irish girl turns and looks at you with surprise. She apparently did not expect you to hold her back.

"You want to know what it depends on?"

"Yes" she says again, looking at you carefully.

You made other steps to catch up to her and to be at her height but you mechanically bite your lip, a little anxious about your courage and its repercussions. But now is not the time to back down. Katie seems to have quickly noticed your nervousness since she is also moving in your direction of a step, offering you a reassuring smile.

"You"

"Me?"

"Yes, I… I like you, I mean not necessarily only physically. And I really like the moments we spend together, but I don’t know if it’s mutual or if I’m making ideas. And I’m a little afraid that after talking to you about it now it changes or complicates things, but-"

Katie ends up interrupting you, putting her finger on your lips to silence you. You don’t know if it’s a good thing or not and you freeze instantly.

"I like you too, I thought it was obvious. I’m sorry if I let you think otherwise. My love life may not have been the most stable in a few months, but with you it’s different."

You don’t have time to answer anything that Leah Williamson appears around the corner to call Katie. Training will begin soon.

"I have to go. I’ll see you later?"

You nod with a smile. Katie looks at you for a few more seconds smiling before heading to where Leah disappeared a few seconds ago.

"Katie?" You call her again though. "You forgot something"

Gently frowning, Katie turns in your direction, no doubt to see you so close to her, always smiling. She has no time to question you, since you come forward until you can put your lips on hers. It’s just a light kiss, but the sensations are amazing.

When you open your eyes again, Katie’s are dipping into yours and you have to take it on yourself so you don’t pass out. If you listened to yourself, you would do it again, but you don’t want to cross the line. That said, given her smile, she doesn’t seem to be against that kiss.

"Now you can go" you smile maliciously.

But Katie shakes her head with her big smile still displayed on her face. Taking advantage of your proximity, Katie gently puts her hand on your neck before drawing your face once again against hers. This kiss is longer than the first and your hands naturally find place on Katie’s body.

When Katie gently caresses your lower lip with her tongue, asking for access to yours, you do not hesitate a single second before leaving it to her. Obviously, you forget a little where you are and that everyone could surprise you. It is finally a door noise far away from you that brings you back to reality, a few minutes later.

"I really have to go" whispers Katie, her lips caressing yours when she speaks.

And it makes you half lose your mind. So you can’t resist the urge to kiss her again and it takes all your strength to tear you away from her. And let her go.

"Come on, go make the rest of the world enjoy your talent" you smile softly

Katie laughs but steals one last kiss before leaving. It’s in a second state that you join your seat, but when Katie appears on the field alongside the other players, you can’t help but smile again. Katie quickly spots you in the stands and sends you a wink to which you respond with a smile.

In the end, it’s not as safe as this that you’ll leave London.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #katie mccabe imagine #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe

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