#I woke up in a cold sweat and I knew this needed to be written

[sinfulspencer]

Flashed

Prompt: It’s too hot to wear clothes at home, so Reader walks around in her underwear. Spencer loses his train of thoughts at the sight.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+)

Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader if you squint), dirty talking, hair pulling, light impact play, breeding kink, unprotected sex 

Words: 5.0k

A.N.: Horny Spencer. That’s it. Also, this is the first official Spencer Reid fic I have written since last year. It felt so good to write for him again. Written this with a prompt from the Summer Sunshine challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins. Thank you to @reidselle and @drgenius-reid for beta-reading this fic!

MASTERLIST. REQUEST GUIDELINES. TAGLIST FORM.

When Spencer asked you to move in with him at the end of the year, he was ready to face every challenge that life would throw at him. The first fights over laundry, the first fight over whoever almost set the house on fire, the first fights over the person that was supposed to remake the bed before going to work, the first fights over whoever left the TV on before going to bed… 

He was prepared for everything.

Spencer learned to cook (he wasn’t good at it, but he knew how to turn on the stove and boil some water, at least). He learned how to do laundry. He learned how to clean the floors without you falling on your own ass because he forgot to tell you that the ground was wet. 

But Spencer wasn’t ready for the summer. 

You moved in with him during the fall season, when it was still cold outside, and it was time to drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. You moved in with him when you were still wearing a winter jacket, leather boots and a scarf around your neck. You moved in when the wind was so cold that you could barely keep the window slightly opened in the bathroom after taking a shower to let the steam go out. 

Spencer wasn’t fucking ready for summer.

The hot weather was already taking a toll on his poor body and he hated it. Spencer despised the high temperatures because they made him sweat like a pig and he hated, more than anything, the feel of sweat under his armpits or behind his knees. 

Normally, before you moved in, Spencer would spend the whole time at home completely naked or wearing only underwear. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened quite a lot. 

What was the problem, then?

Spencer used to walk around in his apartment in his underwear when he was alone, but you’re doing it while he’s in the house. He knew you paced around the house that way because you felt comfortable, but still. He was a stupid man, with hormones that rushed through his body like crazy.

You walked around your shared apartment with nothing on but a pair of panties that Spencer always wanted to rip off you and a stupid bra that made your breasts look even more delicious. 

And the sight had started to take a toll on Spencer for the worst. He was constantly horny, making it difficult for him to focus on simple tasks such as cleaning the whole apartment or doing laundry. 

He woke up one day and you already were parading yourself in your underwear, which made his morning wood even more difficult to take care of. He came home that same night and you were still in your underwear, which led him to forget he was supposed to grab some dinner with Luke because he ended up taking you against the bedroom door.

Spencer didn’t want you to wear clothes if you were too hot, but he also needed to learn how to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw an inch of your naked skin. He felt like a teenager, always eager to touch and ravish what belonged to him.

When Spencer tried to explain the situation to Luke, his colleague laughed right in his face. At first, Spencer was offended. 

‘Why are you complaining about seeing your girlfriend’s tits? You should be happy she feels comfortable around you.’

And Spencer was happy; he truly was. He was proud to know he made you feel good about yourself and allowed you to walk around the house almost naked, but he also felt like an idiot for getting a boner whenever he thought about coming home and knowing he’d find you dressed like that. 

Or better, undressed. 

That night, Spencer couldn’t wait to get home and tell you that he had a birthday party to attend next week. It was Penelope’s birthday and, as every year for the past ten, she had an entire day planned for her and her friends from work. There would be a huge pool party in a small agritourism she rented for the day, followed by a barbecue and a whole garden to explore. 

Spencer was excited to bring you there. 

You had been dating for over a year now and you couldn’t meet his co-workers and friends because you always had meetings to attend, or shifts that were incompatible with the nights the team hung out all together. 

“Y/N?” Spencer called out when he entered his apartment. 

The lights in the kitchen were on and he could hear you humming to a song blasting from the speakers. 

He dropped his bag on the floor and followed the sound of your voice, only to find you in nothing but your underwear. Again. You had your back turned and were swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music, making Spencer smile at the sight. Though the music was loud and almost hurt his ears, he was willing to tolerate the loud volume if it meant he could observe you in your element for hours on end. 

He was so enamoured with you even though you weren’t doing anything in particular. He fell harder for you everyday just watching you exist, breathe and live on your own.

But of course, the romantic thoughts in his head abruptly stopped when you felt his presence in the room and you screamed.

“Fuck! What the fuck, Spencer?!”

He didn’t want to laugh at your terrified expression, but a chuckle fell from his lips. 

“Did I scare you?”

You roll your eyes, dropping your apron on the counter. “No. I screamed because I was learning how to fry scream. Fuck yes, you scared me.”

Spencer walked to the other side of the kitchen counter and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. You smelled like apples and he could see them in the corner of his eyes, all peeled up. 

“How was work? Did you get your stuff done?” you asked

Spencer nodded his head, kissing your temple without losing his grip on you. “Yes. I’m exhausted, though. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could relax and enjoy some time with you.”

You leaned forward, caressing his soft curls. “I bet you’re tired. You’ve been awake since five in the morning.”

As Spencer left the kitchen to get changed, he heard the music turning back on and he smiled. Your footsteps echoed in the room, and he smiled because he knew you were dancing to your favourite songs again. But still, there was a big problem that needed to be solved at that instant. 

You were still in your underwear and of course, he had noticed that. How couldn’t he? 

Spencer saw you for less than three minutes and yet, the bulge in his trousers made it difficult for him to think straight. He didn’t know how it was possible for you to turn him on that much, but you did and it was starting to make things harder for him.

If Spencer brought you to Penelope's birthday party, you were definitely going to wear a bikini. And a bikini is basically the same thing as your underwear… which meant one thing.

“Oh no.”

“Are you talking to me?”

Spencer turned around, attempting to cover the issue between his thighs with the jacket he brought to work that morning. 

“Uh, no love. No, I was just thinking about… something.”

“Care to share?” you asked with an innocent smile.

Spencer knew that smile was actually innocent; you had no ill intentions, but his brain was starting to play games with him. He was so turned on that Spencer thought every little microexpression on your face and every move you made were just actions to tease him and work him up. 

They were not. Or maybe they were.

“Sorry, uh… Yeah. Penelope invited me to her birthday party this Saturday.”

Your face enlightened at his words. “Oh! That’s so nice!”

“She asked me to bring you, too.” 

“I don’t like the tone you just used. If you don’t want to bring me, that’s…”

Spencer widened his eyes, realising that his words might’ve sounded rude. “No! I’m excited to let you meet all of my friends and co-workers, truly.”

“Then, what is it? I know there’s something that bothers you.”

You sat on the bed with your legs crossed, waiting for Spencer to continue but, he didn’t dare to move. If he placed his jacket on the bed, you would’ve noticed the painful tent in his trousers. If he didn’t move, you would’ve asked him why he wasn’t taking off his clothes and putting on more comfortable ones.

Too many thoughts were running wild through Spencer’s brain and it was difficult for him to gather them all, cast aside the naughty ones and focus on the more normal ones. 

It was tough not to stare at the curves of your breasts and how he could see the shadow of your nipples hidden behind the fabric of your bra. He has spent so many hours just licking and sucking your skin around your breasts, that he can still taste you on his tongue if he focuses hard enough. 

“Penelope has rented a whole place for all of us.”

You hummed, tilting your head. “Sounds really nice. Is there a swimming pool involved? Is that why you’re worried?”

Spencer bit his bottom lip, forcing himself not to stare at the way your hair fell over your shoulders and covered the laces of your bra. A few days ago, he used his teeth to remove that same bra. It was a struggle not to think about that night, and he pathetically failed.

“I’m sure the place she rented is clean and…”

As you started to speak and comfort Spencer over his fear of germs, his mind wandered elsewhere. You moved to the centre of the bed to be closer to him and laid on it, with your arms behind your head and your body all stretched out. 

Your bra barely covered your full breasts and your thighs were much more visible, with all the little bruises still peppering your skin. The same bruises he caused two days before. The same bruises you begged him to create on. 

Spencer’s brain was starting to get even foggier. 

“Are you even listening to me, love?” 

You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Spencer dropped the jacket on the floor, quickly bending over to pick it up. Of course, he was listening to you, but he was just… thinking about something else while you were talking. 

“Hm.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Spencer turned away from you and looked down, frowning. His bulge was still there and getting more painful, but how in the world was he going to face you and ask you if you could help him out? He knew you would, in a heartbeat, but he felt miserable. 

How could he ask you to stop walking around his place in nothing but your underwear when he wanted to worship your body every hour of every day? How could he deny himself the sight of your stunning body? 

His eyes went straight to your breasts and of course, you noticed it. 

“Spencer!”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“My God.” - you started to say, sitting up on the bed - “You’re distracted! You can’t even finish a sentence or listen to me.”

Spencer hummed again, forcing his eyes to stay on your face. Unfortunately, they slipped down to your breasts once again - but that time, Spencer didn’t deny it. How could he? He had been so obvious since he arrived home, but you thought to yourself that maybe you were imagining things.

Or you were too horny, but you weren’t. He was. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“You’ve been staring at my breasts since you saw me in the kitchen.” you stated

Spencer sighed, turning his back on you again. “I’m sorry. They’re distracting.”

“Look at me, love.”

He lingered for a few seconds, covering his face with both hands. He didn’t want to turn around because he knew you would’ve teased him for hours on end, but it truly wasn’t his fault. It was his brain that tricked him into staring at your boobs and remembering all the things he did to you the night before and all the other days. 

It wasn’t his fault he had an eidetic memory and he could replay all your moments of intimacy together each time he wanted. How you looked when he kissed your neck, how you moaned when his tongue swirled around your nipples…

“You can look at them whenever you want, you know.” - you tapped his shoulder, kneeling behind him on the bed - “I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”

“That’s not the point, Y/N.” - Spencer replied, forcing himself to turn around - “You’re so distracting, I can barely think when you’re there… dressed up like that.”

You raised your brows. “Do you want me to change?”

“No!” - he exclaimed, before clearing his throat - “I mean… maybe. I don’t know, but I can’t keep getting hard because you’re half-naked.”

“What’s wrong with being attracted to me, love?” you asked with your arms crossed.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know, but it’s hard to be around you when all I think about is how I want to just…” - he took a deep breath before shaking his head - “I need to behave, I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence where you pondered over his words. He seemed so miserable and all because he was so attracted to you that he could barely think, that he could barely remember that he had other things to do other than you. 

That felt incredibly hot. 

Leaning forward, you placed a hand on his hip. “I want to hear what you’re thinking about right now.”

Spencer shook his head, covering your hand with his. “It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early to make love to your partner, Spencer.”

You were right, he knew that, but he also knew that if he kissed you and took you right there, he would’ve spent the whole night just trying to do it over and over until you were too tired to move or to keep your eyes open. 

Spencer sighed and looked down at you. “You drive me crazy.”

“And what’s the harm in that, love?” you asked innocently 

He moved his hands under your neck and forced you to look at him, gripping your chin with his fingertips. You went quiet, trying to decipher the expression on his face, though the tight grip was already a good hint of what he was thinking about.  

“No harm.”

“Exactly, so… What’s stopping you?”

Spencer knew nothing was stopping him from pressing your body onto the mattress and pounding into you. He had every right to do so because he knew you wanted it as much as he did, but still. There was an issue to fix and he refused to let his hormones get in the way, once again. 

But maybe just this time, Spencer thought.

You leaned your head against his palm, and closed your eyes when his fingers brushed over your cheek. He could look at you for hours, admiring how you basked in the sweetness of his touch that you found so comforting. 

“Nothing’s stopping me.”

You sighed, running your hands over his chest. “Good.”

Spencer unbuckled his belt and the metal clanking of it falling onto the floor brought an eager smile to your lips. Of course you smiled, because you were about to get exactly what you wanted since he came home. 

Little minx, Spencer thought. 

“You don’t need to hold back from what you truly desire, Spencer.” 

He drank up your words like they were the sweetest honey and he sighed. You were right; he didn’t need to stop himself from putting his hands over you if you wanted to be touched as well, but still.

“If you want to rip my underwear off me, you can do it.” - you muttered, slowly opening the buttons of his shirt - “If you want to fuck me like this, while I’m almost naked and you’re still dressed, you can do it.”

Spencer watched as your skilled fingers pushed his shirt off his shoulder and sighed, because there was nothing else he could do or say at that moment. You had him wrapped around your tiny finger and you knew it, which was why he loved you so much. You could’ve snapped your fingers and he would’ve dropped to his knees for you. 

“I just.. I just need to have you. At all times.”

“You can.” - you replied with no hesitation, only firmness in your voice - “I am here for your pleasure. Always.”

Spencer released a long sigh. “I know. I’m so lucky.”

Pushing his trousers down his legs to reveal his soft skin, you looked up at him with your lips turned into a wicked grin. You could see the emotions rapidly changing behind those eyes: lust, frustration, love, annoyance and desire. That was exactly what you wanted: you craved to drive Spencer crazy and you needed him to lose his mind over you. 

It made you feel powerful.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.” you said 

Spencer leaned into your touch when you reached out for his face. “So are you, princess.”

But the tender moment was gone as fast it came, because there was no time to be nice to one another. Spencer wanted to wreck you and you wanted him to do as he pleased; you wanted the pleasure to consume him, and so it did.

Spencer kissed you for the first time since he came home and, of course, he had no time to be nice. His tongue pushed into your mouth without warning, but you let it as you laid down on the bed with the man on top of you. The kiss expressed all the frustration that had built within him ever since he came home and found you in the kitchen, wiggling your ass to the music and singing at the top of your lungs. 

His teeth dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and you whined, almost tasting blood on your tongue. 

“Let me be rough tonight.”

You grabbed him by the chin, staring right into those honey-coloured eyes. “Perhaps I was not clear with my words a moment ago, Spencer. I want you to do whatever you want to me.”

Spencer groaned at your words and pushed any rational thought out of his mind, allowing the frustration and profound desire felt for you to drive him. His pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust making you shiver, bringing the heat between your thighs where you so desperately wanted to be touched. 

Spencer kissed your mouth before moving down to your throat, attacking it with bites and gentle licks that made you whimper. 

“I’m going to ravish you tonight, my princess.” - Spencer whispered to your ear, running his hands all over your breasts - “And you’re going to take my cock like the good girl I know you are for me, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, love.”

He moved his hands to your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Hands and knees.”

You scrambled to turn around, struggling to move as his arms didn’t give you as much space as you needed. Spencer, ever so helpful, pulled your hips up when you managed to roll on your tummy. 

“Good girl, that’s it.”

You could feel his cock against your ass when he leaned forward to bite your shoulder and you moaned, closing your eyes. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your back, dragging your panties down your thighs before throwing them on the floor. 

Spencer’s mouth wandered down your neck, leaving a trace of kisses that started from your right shoulder and went down to your ass. He nibbled at the soft skin right below it before biting down, hard enough to draw blood. You yelped at the feeling, but didn’t complain as your hands scratched the blanket. 

Spencer pulled away for a second and traced the small wound with the tip of his index, earning a hiss from you. It hurt, but you wanted it to hurt - you promised you’d bleed for him, and bleed you did. 

“Good girl. So pretty for me.” - Spencer whispered, but you were more focused on the sound of a bottle of lube being opened - “I’m sorry, I’m so impatient to have you. I wish we could take this slow, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re desperate.” - you mumbled, moaning softly when his fingers breached your entrance - “It’s fucking cold.”

He chuckled at your reaction, smearing the lube all over your already wet slit. “Oops”

When you were ready, Spencer found no resistance as he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. He watched the way your walls welcomed him in and revelled in the sweetness of your whimpers and whines when you felt him. Spencer waited, watching you as you struggled to stay still for him. 

“Please, just… Get inside, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh? Wanna take it all at once, my princess?” - Spencer asked, running his left hand through your hair - “Are you desperate for my cock? Then, fucking have it.”

In one hard thrust, Spencer bottomed out inside of you and you fell on the bed with your face in the pillow. You trembled when you finally felt every inch of his cock inside of you and you thought you were ready to fall off the edge in less than a minute. 

You were desperate for him every single time you had the chance to make love to him.

“Take it, princess. You wanted it and now you have it.”

Spencer watched you as you arched your back, tightening your grip on the bed sheets. A chorus of curses and moans flows from your lips as you try to get back on your knees, but his thrusts are too quick and harsh to let you get in position. So, again, you fell down with your face in the pillow. 

The pleasure quickly expanded through your body as Spencer never slowed down the pace of his thrusts, basking in the gentle sounds of your moans. His right hand travelled down to reach your ass, and before you felt it, you heard it - there was a brief moment of silence, followed by a loud smack and then a deep heat diffusing over your skin. 

It had been so long since he spanked you, but with that position, you couldn’t blame him.

The sensation heightened the pleasure within you. 

“Oh, fuck!”

Spencer moved both his hands on each side of your head and leaned forward, keeping his thrusts quick and regular. You could feel his body tense each time you tried to push back into him, to fuck yourself onto his cock. 

You were already close, desperate to ride that delicious end. 

“Please, more.” - you cried out again - “Please, I’m close.”

“Don’t you dare.” - he bit your earlobe - “Don’t you fucking dare come on my cock now.”

You whined at his order, not sure how you would be able to hold it and be a good girl for him. It wasn’t easy to hold an orgasm, especially if Spencer never stopped fucking into you with all the energy he had in his body. You were so close, you were right there but Spencer stopped his movements - and suddenly, you felt a warm tear slip down your cheek.

A single tear of frustration. 

Spencer forced you on your back, pushing you onto the mattress before sliding his cock back inside of you. 

“I want to see your pretty face when you come, princess.” - Spencer whispered, lifting your right leg and wrapping it around his own waist - “I want you to look at me as you come undone on my cock.”

His pace is as rough as before and you felt more tears spill from your eyes. Your hands quickly went behind his neck as you rolled your hips, a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself back onto his cock to feel more and more. 

You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The only word that fell from your lips was a strained ‘yes’ that echoed in the room, encouraging Spencer to go harder and faster, to tear you down piece by piece.

And he looked fucking stunning as he did so. 

His lean body, his muscles were tense, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead and his tongue poking out in concentration… You wanted to get those details tattooed on your brain, on your body, every-fucking-where. 

“Such a good girl for me, huh? My pretty princess.” - Spencer whispered, looking down at you - “Always welcoming me with nothing on, knowing how crazy that makes me.”

Your lips opened slightly, more whimpers flowing from them. 

“Do you know how difficult it is to get out of here and not remember all the times I’ve fucked you against the door?” he said, his voice rough.

You shook your head, not sure if you understood what he said. 

“Fuck, you make me so horny. I fucking love your body.” - he mumbled, pressing his forehead to yours - “I always think about it and then I see dressed like that… It’s like you’re always begging me to bend you over and fuck your pretty cunt.”

You’ve always loved his dirty mouth, but that day it felt deliciously perfect. His thrusts were rough and faltering, which meant he was close to his orgasm too - you almost forgot you were close, totally enamoured by him and the way he spoke about you.  

“My slutty princess.”

You nodded with a smile, drunk on your lust for him. “All yours to use and destroy.”

You felt the pleasure built up again right behind your belly button and you knew you were close again. Spencer must’ve noticed it because he kept his pace quick, never changing the angle because he felt you clench hard around him each time he bottomed out. Your thighs were shaking around his waist and he could feel your heartbeat quickening under his fingertips. 

“My good girl.” - he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment - “I can feel you’re close. Do you want to come on my cock, princess?”

He didn’t need a verbal answer, because soon your cries of pleasure were enough. You widened your eyes and threw your head back onto the pillow, crying out his name over and over as your nails dug into his shoulders. He could feel his skin breaking under your nails but he didn’t care. 

Spencer was too enamoured with you to realise how painful your grip was. 

“That’s it, gorgeous. You did so well.” he rewarded you with a kiss on the lips 

You barely felt it, drunk on the pleasure that he fed you. Your whole body was shuddering as Spencer helped you ride out your orgasm, but the more he thrusted, the more pain you felt stabbing you. You didn’t complain, though. 

You wanted it, you needed it and so did he. 

“Does this pretty princess want my cum deep inside of her, hm?” Spencer asked

You weren’t sure he heard you, but you managed to choke out: “Yes. Please, please, fucking do it. Please.”

A few thrusts later, Spencer granted you your wish. His warmth flooded you from the inside as he watched the way his body become one with yours, shivering with pleasure. His right hand pressed down hard below your belly button and you winced, feeling his seed run deep if that was even possible. 

It felt so incredibly good you could almost come again. 

“Ah, that felt fucking perfect.”

You closed your arms around his neck and caged him against your body, so that he wouldn’t be able to run away. Not that he wanted to, of course, but. 

Spencer didn’t move for at least five good minutes, struggling to catch his own breath while you stared at the bedroom ceiling with a grin on your face. You were deeply satisfied with yourself and you were sure Spencer was content, as well - though the conversation between you wasn’t over. 

You knew that not putting on clothes would’ve distracted him and maybe that was exactly why you never put them on when he was around in your shared apartment. It was fun to see him struggling between staring at your breasts or at your thighs, or forgetting that he had to hang out with his colleagues because he was too busy burying his face in your cunt or fucking you against a window. 

It felt good to be desired, and it felt even better knowing that it was the only thing Spencer was able to think about when he was away from you. 

“You have to stop walking around our place naked.”

You put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him upward. Spencer was still lying between your legs, but he was staring at you. 

“Naked? I am always wearing my underwear.” you stated 

Spencer bumped the tip of his nose against yours. “Which is dangerously distracting, Y/N.”

“Oh, you’re using my name in a conversation.”

“I’m being serious, princess. I can’t get a boner whenever I’m near you.” - he explained, pressing a kiss on your jaw - “Believe me, I appreciate the sight but… My brain needs some rest. And so does my penis.”

“Okay, alright. I’ll do my best to keep my clothes on.” - I decided to give in - “After six weeks of pure hell, I think you deserve a break.”

Spencer kissed your cheek, before biting it softly. “I appreciate it, my princess.”

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it occasionally just to drive you crazy.” you warned him 

“Oh, I’m fine with that.” - he said, rolling off your body - “But give me a heads up before doing it, okay? I wouldn’t want to come home with Luke and find you in your underwear.”

“Well… it could be fun. Maybe he’d like to join…”

Spencer covered your mouth with his’ before you could finish your sentence, but the kiss was interrupted by your loud laugh echoing through the walls. 

“Alright, Luke will never see me like this.” - you gave him a peck on the lips, pushing him off you before he could spread your legs again - “This sight is for your eyes only.”

TAGLIST @blvebanisters @koukatsuki @moesdraft

BROKEN TAGS @alelaeljfj @donttrustlove

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut fanfic #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid smut imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfics #doctor spencer reid smut

[m0uchie]

hello!! First time requesting something, but could you maybe write something wanderer and fem.reader testing out those aphrodisiac chocolates?

Thank you!! <33

— pairing : wanderer x fem!reader

— warnings : NSFW; using of drugs (the aphrodisiac); they fuck a lot; honestly this is so badly written im sry; creampie; oral (m!receiving); she rides him at some point

— a/n : let’s pretend it’s close to Valentine’s Day bc I said so

He insisted a lot until tonight came. He pestered you to buy these stupid chocolates, and you accepted in the end for the sake of the smile on his face. And when they finally arrived and you tasted them together, you felt nothing but sleepy.

“Maybe we just need to wait a bit-”

“We've been waiting since 9:30, do you know what time it is now?” You contradict his insistence, eyeing his pouting face to search for a response. He shakes his head.

“Past midnight.” He frowns at you, looking away when you stare at him for too long.

“I told you it wasn’t gonna work. I’m going to bed.” You stretch your back and sigh deeply before standing up from the couch and going to your shared bedroom.

“I’m right behind you then.” He says, still a bit disappointed that his little experiment didn't work this time.

He really liked the idea of testing things out with you, as long as you weren't opposed to that. And you were almost always open to trying new things for him to see what would work better for you two.

His co-workers wouldn’t stop talking about their private experiences with this aphrodisiac chocolates like horny teenagers, and although he was annoyed by it, he couldn’t help but get curious. Valentine’s Day was approaching after all.

He didn't like sweets, quite the opposite, he hated them. However, anyone could tell otherwise by the way his face was covered in chocolate right now, like a child. He wanted to make it work. He was excited to see what would unfold after.

Unfortunately this time, you weren't going to end up on all fours with your body covered in his cum on the bed because it was already late and you were tired, but he still had a lifetime to do it.

Wanderer was sleeping soundly next to you when you woke up. Chapped and dehydrated lips, the complete opposite of what they’d been in the morning, but perhaps these were the consequences of the cold weather.

… cold? No. In fact, since when has it been so hot?

Your body was sweating and the air conditioning, despite being on, didn't seem to work. You cautiously remove the arms that embraced your body, and remove the blanket that covers you to touch your feet to the floor slowly, not wanting to make any noise.

Only now were you thinking about how terrible the idea was of trying to get to the kitchen in the early morning only to drink some water without disturbing your loved one's sleep. After all, where was the switch? You knew it was on the wall next to the door, and that there was a lamp next to your bed, but it was on Wanderer's side, and you didn't want to bump into it, much less go over his body to turn on the light, so the switch was the safest now. Or so you thought.

“Oh shit.” You bump into something, hearing it fall to the floor. It didn't seem that loud, but when you heard him suddenly rumbling and calling out your name, you knew you fucked up.

You guide your body carefully to face the bed again, climbing onto the mattress and moving closer to the warmth of Wanderer's body.

"What is it?" You say with a subtle tone, not wanting to completely wake him up since it was still late.

“Mm… need it here…” you frown in confusion.

"What do you mean? What do you need?” You now carry a hint of worry in your voice, quickly towering over Wanderer’s body and reaching out to turn on the lights since he was closer to the lamp.

“I-I feel… something…” his voice drops as his eyes wander to his blanket covered body. Your hand reaches out to pull it off his body, assuming whatever he had was under the blanket since he couldn't stop looking.

However, the sight that beholds you is that of a man only in his boxers. Clothes thrown to the floor at some point in the night that you didn't notice, and a tent formed beneath the fabric of his underwear, which was wet enough to be discarded.

The feeling you felt faintly in your body before suddenly becomes more present and obvious, as you had ignored it until now. From now on there was nowhere to run. Besides getting hotter all over, an uncomfortable need made itself known between your legs, screaming to be relieved. You were wet like a fountain.

“Mmh? Y/N… it hurts.” He mumbles one more time. You clear your throat and look in his direction, realizing now that he had opened his eyes, without even a drop of tiredness on his face.

“I-it does?” Your legs close in an attempt to hide your intimacy discovered under your nightgown, — since you slept without it when you were at home — embarrassed for thinking about such dirty things after insisting that you sleep without touching each other.

Maybe you were just frustrated that the aphrodisiac didn't work. You two were very active and this time you rejected him because of his “mistake” in buying something that didn't work without seeing the reviews again. So it would be embarrassing to call out to him now knowing that you were the one in the wrong.

He nods, drawing his eyebrows together and diverting his teary gaze to the walls. You try to get your head straight and focus on your boyfriend. He's in pain, so whatever you're feeling right now isn't important.

"Where does it hurt? Show me." You struggle to express your concern, despite the tingling you felt throughout your body and the immense desire you had to simply tear off all his clothes and make him feel better with your body. But let's agree that that's not how things work in reality (or they shouldn't work like this for normal couples).

He grabs your hand. The trembling, anxious pulse as he guides you to his crotch. Your lips part in an “o”, and you instinctively begin to massage him through the fabric, drawing thin moans that you never thought you would hear coming from his lips.

“Nnngh use it! P-please- oh just use me—!” he arches his back to receive more contact with your hand, tears streaming down his face. "help me."

And that's when you completely lose control.

On the average, with a standard dosage, the effects of an aphrodisiac can begin to be felt within one to three hours of ingestion. You assumed the effects would be noticed right away, but it seems like it will only get more intense over time. How stupid were you to not realize this sooner?

You were dripping just like Wanderer, whose dick just freed by you was slick with precum from top to base. The “pulling out method” wouldn’t even have a chance of working this time if you weren't on the pill, not that you would care about the consequences if that were the case, clit aching to be touched.

You admire the treat in front of you, drooling to put it in your mouth and make your throat its home.

“N-no, wait— fuck! Wanna cum inside youuu.” He moves his hips and tries to push your face away, but it's not enough to stop you from lubricating your lips and mouthing his dick. The fingers around your hair loosen as he starts to soften and give up, eyes rolling into the back of his head with so much pleasure.

“Ohhh baby, feels so good around my c-cock.” Soon he gives in against you without much resistance. You hummed around his cock, sucking and making wet noises that left his ears red. The rest that you couldn't put in your mouth, you stimulated with your hands in a back and forth movement.

However for Wanderer, everything fit if you put your mind into it.

“T-take it good mmmn.” He starts to throw his hips against your mouth and hold your hair in a ponytail with one hand, using you to get off like a fuck toy, making you gag a few times until his cock was so deep in your throat that your nose touched his pelvic hair.

He holds your head still in that position. It becomes difficult to breathe and the only thing you can do is move your tongue randomly from one side to another. You are about to call him when you feel warm ropes of cum going down your throat.

“I'm still hard. Do something about it.” He asks demandingly, wiping his dripping seed from your lips with his thumb and then shoving two fingers inside your mouth so you could swallow it all well.

When he’s finished, you take a deep breath. Face red as you open your legs slightly to show your messy situation. A slimy substance sliding between your folds and glistening pussy, along with a throbbing clit, so sensitive to the touch!

He gets up from the bed, still limp from his recent orgasm, and brings his face closer to your intimacy, fascinated. “You’re as wet as when you’re ovulating. Even needier, I bet.” His finger passes between your folds, lining up with your entrance.

“Think it worked.” He smiles to himself, proud of having eaten so many chocolates earlier, and sticks his finger between your walls, just the act itself being enough to make you clench around it and let out a deep breath.

“And she’s so tight too. She must be even more sensitive today. Fuck, that way I can’t even move my fingers further.” He leaves his finger inside you without moving, feeling you grow impatient and start to rock your hips against the source of pleasure.

“T-then why is it going in? H-hah-“ your voice cracks, eyebrows draw together to match your melted eyes. Wanderer just smirks at the sinful scene.

“Ahh using me just like I said…” a gooey liquid escapes you when he suddenly pulls his finger out and manhandles you into being on all fours to fill your mouth with his sticky finger, distracting you so that you were unable to speak. “But you can very well use something bigger.”

He parts your legs, positioning his dick underneath to let your juices fall all over him and lubricate him completely as he rubs his dick between your folds, grunting every time the head reaches your hole and you clench needily.

“I-it’s so hard… it wants to be inside your pretty pussy.” He places a soothing hand on your waist and caresses it, looking so pleadingly at your body while slowly entering you when you wiggle your ass as a response.

With a heavy sigh coming out of both of you, he holds your waist very firmly and thrusts hard into you, changing positions every time he came inside you.

Finally, you were on top of him. He loved seeing you on top of him, tits bouncing up and down as you roll your hips in order to grind your clit on his pelvis at the same time you moved on his cock. He could never resist the urge to pinch your hard nipples and squeeze your belly to intensify your pleasure and to show you how deep he was inside you.

“Just one more time, please baby.” He kisses between your boobs, holding your waist in place when you told him you were getting tired and tried to go away. He knew you weren't done either, but he'd do all the work for you and make you feel good all over again until you came this one last time.

So when you replied with a “mhmm” he promptly pushed you down and slammed his cock all the way to your womb, pumping his cum from his previous orgasms back up into you once again, trying to reach another one with you.

“Ah- I don’t know if I can cum again!”

“No no, I know you can. Give it to me, hm?” He insists, silencing your uncontrolled blabbering sounds and sobs with his mouth, swallowing said noises while he flicked your swollen clit until your mind became all foggy again.

He slowed his ministrations when your walls tightened around his cock with a loud grunt, gushing out a thick stream of sperm inside you. Your faces parted for him to see your fucked out state and the line of drool connecting the two of you, he couldn't help but smile.

“You look so pretty like this. Almost makes me want to ruin you again.” He leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead, making it impossible for him to see your surprised face that comes after.

“I- I think that’s enough…?” Your voice comes out, although a little hoarse and low. There were still some chocolates left, and now you knew that you had to be careful to hide them from your boyfriend, as he seemed to have enjoyed this a little too much.

“You’re right, we can see about that tomorrow.” He teases, chuckling as you gulp down.

For a while, you both remain silent. He waits for you to start yawning and close your eyes to clean you up so you don't wake up uncomfortable in the morning. When he lies down with you again, he pulls you closer and leaves you lying on his chest.

Wanderer isn't accustomed to showing love through physical contact, but he knows you like it more than anything, and he can't deny that the feeling of your warm body on his makes him feel... things. The next day, he won't be there anymore, and your chest will tighten as you make your way to the kitchen, finding the smell of coffee strange until you’re looking at his back facing you.

For a moment, the tightness in your heart is replaced by the familiar butterflies in the stomach, and you sit on the counter as he smiles innocently and places a warm coffee in front of you.

Your hands hold the handle to bring the drink to your mouth when you notice the small candy on the saucer where the cup was and raise your head towards him to arch a doubtful eyebrow.

“To sweeten your coffee since I didn’t add sugar today.” He justifies himself.

Apparently, he’s addicted to chocolates now.

#𝜗𝜚 [ m0uchie posts! ] #+18 content #꒰ requests ꒱ྀི #divider by cafekitsune #wanderer smut #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #scaramouche smut

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

FOLIE Á DEUX ─── jonathan crane ✧

���⁀➷ “Not all love is gentle. Sometimes it's gritty and dirty and possessive, sometimes it's not supposed to be careful or soft at all. Sometimes it feels like teeth.” - Azra T.

pairing. professor!jonathan crane x stalker!reader

summary. you’ve been stalking your professor for 8 months, keeping track of his movements with your diary. one day, said professor informs that you left something of yours behind in his office…

warnings. swearing, choking, p in v, dacryphilia, oral sex (f), dubcon (if u squint), stalking, breeding, orgasm delay/denial, unprotected sex, hair pulling, student-teacher relationship, SMUT UNDER THE CUT

word count. 4.5k

a/n. this is my first ever smut, so if it sucks i really do apologize. also, im kinda unsure where the plot on this one went, but whatever! lastly, i do try to keep all my fics gender-neutral, but seeing as this is smut, i had to choose, and the reader is afab.

“Miss [Name], please stay behind after class. I need just a moment's worth of your time.” Your professor said absently, not looking at you, when he handed back your essay on the human id.

You hummed, nodding your head carefully. “Yes, Professor Crane.” 

Inwardly, you swooned at his choice of words: “I need just a moment's worth of your time.” He’d highlighted the existence of both you and him in the sentence, as if coexisting together, with one another, was plausible.

Later, when class ended, you’d packed up all your things, and walked into Professor Crane’s office off to the side, where he was tidying up. 

“You asked me to stay behind, sir?” 

“Yes,” Crane acknowledged your presence, looking at you squarely. “You forgot something in my office during our last tutoring session.” 

Your eyes widened slightly, both at the fact you’d left one of your items behind, and that your Professor had seen the item, and knew it belonged to you. He hadn’t mistaken it as his own, or anyone else's - he knew it was yours.

“Oh!” You said, a beat later. “Thank you for telling me. Where is it, exactly?”

“Before we get to that matter - do take a seat - I believe we need to have a, ah, talk.” He gestured to the seat in front of his office desk, the same seat you sat on every Wednesday at 6:30 for the past few months. 

“A talk, sir?” You pried, but sat down anyway, reveling in the one-on-one time you were experiencing with your favorite professor. 

That was the main motivator for getting tutored by the man - you adored going in, having an entire hour of him all to yourself. 

Prior, you pretended not to get some of his lessons, let your grade in his psychology class slip to a pitiful mark so low he couldn’t ignore it. You’d started the semester with a stellar grade, so he took it upon himself to offer tutoring - he knew you could understand his method of teaching, and theorized that you hadn’t been able to pay attention in class because of the sheer size of people attending. 

In actuality, however, you understood everything completely - it was merely your obsessive attraction following him like the sound of thunder trailing behind lightning. 

Crane scrubbed his face when you sat, thinking intently on what he wanted to say. “I need you to understand, Miss [Name], that a student-teacher relationship is completely taboo. Such a thing can never - should never, occur.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and suddenly, you were reminded how you hadn’t seen that book in a while, you hadn’t read it when you woke up, when you went for lunch, you hadn’t even written anything about him for the day—

Your professor slid open one of his desk drawers, and pulled out the familiar pocket notebook you kept with yourself at all times. 

“I’m telling you about rules, Miss [Name], because you forgot this.” He said, voice low. “And, pardon my intrusion, but the stuff you have written here is quite… intriguing.”

Your heart began racing in your chest, a cold sweat trailing down your back. “Professor, I- whatever you read in there—“ You began, but froze when he opened the notebook, thumbing through the pages. 

Crane cleared his throat, looking intently at the words. His expression changed several times as his eyes flitted over your writing, and you felt your body burn with shame. 

“January 26th. Professor's gloves were found in the nook of his podium. I was looking for the green apple he’d forgo from finishing, his teeth tracks fresh on the alabaster flesh, but found his winter wear instead. Gloves were brought home - I imagined he’d come over to mine, undressed his biting winter clothing, and forgot his sweet mittens here.” Your professor read your diary out loud. Crane looked like he enjoyed your shame being laid out bare, but you were too absorbed in a whirlwind of emotion to notice. 

“P—Professor, please, I - I can explain, I didn’t mean anything—“

“April 17th. Professor came down with a flu, like I expected. I saw him walking in last week’s evening downpour and waited for what day this week he’d call in. Later, he bought cough syrup and aspirin at the convenience store. I watched him struggle to care for himself, covered head to toe in blankets, missing meals, barely able to keep upright. I wish professor knew how well I could care for him, how I fulfill his every request and need. I saw how touchy he was, how he fidgeted, that feverish want — I could satiate him like no-one else.” 

His lips enunciated every word, and the longer he went on reading, the dizzier you felt; your professor, your darling, had found out - he had found out - he had found fucking out -

“Be honest with me, Miss [Name]. Do you stalk me?” Your professor said, slipping off his wire-framed glasses. The man leaned in closer now, elbows resting on the wooden desk. 

Your eyes darted away from him, looking anywhere but forwards. You felt like you had been stripped away, so bare your professor could count how many ribs you had, how many minor hairline fractures your tattered bones had collected over the years. You tried to analyze the man’s reaction through your peripheral, but it was to no avail - he was as cold as he had been during class, during your entire time knowing the professor. 

You breathed, in and out, analyzing the situation tenfold, precisely, trying to find a way out of this place alive, dignity intact. Then, you found it. 

This man had ensnared you, entranced you with his delicious charm and carefully spoken words. You repeat inwardly to yourself: Crane knew all the right words, all the right places to touch. If he dared press charges, you would tell the world he hurt you first. 

“Yes, Professor Crane.” You nodded, unabashed after deciding how to deal with everything. He can’t touch me with this. I’ll just go first: please, he took advantage of me! I needed to pass his class… and he offered a solution to me. He’s lying! Lying to you all. He just wants to destroy me… and hide his sin.

“The human body knows when someone’s watching them, but you haven’t noticed, not once in the 8 months I’ve watched you. You didn’t notice, even when I followed you home, even to Arkham. Every obscure outing you’ve had, I’ve been there.”

“I’m quite alarmed by this information, Miss [Name]. Moreso by the absence of your remorse.” Crane said, but mere seconds later a low laugh was drawn out of him, looking more amused than alarmed if anything. 

Crane’s tone was husky, nearing a purr, and he clasped his large, calloused hands together contemplatively. “What were you going to do to me, Miss [Name]? Or were you just going to watch, standby my life?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, unable to respond to his provocations. You didn’t want to alarm him further, tell him you’d been planning to finally have him, once and for all, as soon as you got a hold of his house keys and got the chance to replicate your own pair. You didn’t tell him that you were barely restraining yourself from knocking him out during your tutoring sessions, wanting your darling all for yourself for more than an hour a week. 

“Are you not afraid, Miss [Name]? What I can do to your life with this information? How I can ruin you, paint you mad enough to be admitted to Arkham?” he continued, closer than ever before and whispering in your ear. His plush lips brushed past the shell of your ear, making your heart skip a beat. 

You winced, both from the feeling of him near you and his sweet voice spewing poison in your ear, but quickly composed yourself, for you knew things he didn’t know you knew. 

Then - you weren’t quite sure what possessed you, but - your hand came up to his hair, tugging so he could hear you, “Professor - or, should I say… Scarecrow, what would you do, if I told the police what Gotham University’s psychology professor did in his spare time?” 

“What would you do, if I plastered pictures of the renowned Doctor Jonathan Crane wearing the familiar burlap sack mask all over Gotham - especially in places the Batman frequented?”

“I can destroy you, sir.” Your voice was quiet, but dangerous, a terribly alluring thing, like a melody Crane heard a long time ago and remembered every time he smelt the must of an old piano. “Don’t push me.”

This time, Crane stilled, turning to face you fully. His gaze had darkened, looking at you through his long lashes. “My dear, you should’ve just told me how bad you wanted to find out how this fear-toxin of mine can break you.” He whispered, so quiet you had to strain yourself to hear. 

With your professor's warm breath fanning on the nape of your neck, you couldn’t help how you squirmed, clenched your thighs together - especially when you had been dreaming of something like this for the past eight months. You couldn’t count how many times you found yourself with your hands down your pants at the thought of your darling professor having his way with you… controlling you completely. 

You didn’t answer the man for a moment, gulping down the dryness in your throat. “Would you, sir? Would you let fear dominate me like those tortured souls in the Narrows?”

Crane’s eyes trailed across your face, then he pulled back, leaning in his chair, a grin all teeth and no tongue spreading across his lips. There was something there, you realized, something he noticed in the intone of your voice - had he noticed the neediness, the warble as your thoughts went elsewhere? The arch in your back, your body desperate to be as close to him as possible?

“Can I tell you what I think?” said Crane, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “I think you want me to. I think you want me to see you tremble… shake in fear… you want me to hear you beg. I think you want to be utterly consumed by me.” 

The deep timbre of his voice, the suggestion in his words, how he stared you down with each syllable, sent electric shivers down your spine. You took in a sharp breath, leaning your head back to look at the ceiling, compose yourself, when—

Crane’s rough hand gripped at your throat, thumb caressing the little notch at the center, and your heart fluttered, jumping at his touch. 

“Fear is an addicting, beautiful thing, is it not? You’re afraid of me, but you can’t help how fucking needy you are.” Your professor spoke, pressing down further on your neck. He had noticed. 

His touch made your skin feel like it was on fire, the rough pads of his fingertips digging bruises into your delicate skin. It was the most delicious thing you had ever felt, and you leaned into it, despite the connotations of death by asphyxiation looming over your shoulder. 

Your professor manhandled you, dragging your weak body over to his side of the desk, hand still curved neatly around your throat. You were growing dizzy, a fearful, pleasure-filled fog slowly clouding your mind, and you couldn’t speak. All you could do was let out little squeaks of surprise & pleasure, a moan rumbling out of you as he pressed down further. 

Crane was saying something, but you couldn’t tell under the pressure. His facial expression was all you needed, however; his eyes were bloodshot, lustful, so laser-focused that, if looks could kill, you’d have been long gone, while a feral grin replaced his emotionless facade. Crane’s usually well-kept appearance had dissolved, and his hair was askew, tie loose, buttons haphazardly undone. 

Suddenly, the man pressed himself flush against you, pressing his face into your hair, your neck - losing himself in you. His tongue flicked out, dragging a long stripe down the side of your neck, and you jumped, a startled whine tearing out of your choked-up throat. 

His grip on you tightened. “What? I’m just having a taste. Is that so wrong?” At your wide eyes, and silent response, he let out a fitful laugh. “You’re coated in shame, darling. You’re sour.”

You squirmed - not because you didn’t enjoy it - you just couldn’t breathe, but Crane didn’t care. His fingernails were sharp, maybe even drawing some of your blood.

“Plea— sir, I can’t breathe,” you stuttered out raspily. His face remained unchanged while listening to your pathetic pleas, before he leaned in close. 

“Beg for it. Beg like you’re terrified for your life. You might as well be,” he said, and he began pressing his thumb into the center of your throat, choking you fully now. 

You nodded - as much as the allowance between his hand and your head allowed, anyway. “Professor, please,” you said breathily, “please let me go. I’ll do any- anything, just puh— please stop.” 

“Ah, there it is,” Your professor cooed, eyes shutting at the sweet intone of your pleaing, distressed voice. He was losing himself in your words. “Keep going… and don’t forget the crying. It's my favorite part.”

“Let - me go! Please,” you whimpered helplessly, mustering thick, heavy tears to form at the corners of your eyes as you saw black spots dotting your vision. 

A lump formed in your throat, choking your words. “Please… stop! Let me - breathe,” You said, leaning delightedly into his touch. His other hand was now digging painfully into your hip, as if the professor were focussing intensely on holding back. 

“Look at you go,” Crane clicked his tongue, eyes opening and gazing deep into you. He pulled you in closer to him, letting go of your abused throat. 

You finally breathed, taking in such large bouts of air you might’ve choked and keeled over right there. But then, Crane’s hands at your side crawed carefully to your rear, while the other hand came up to the crown of your head to pet you. 

He whispered into the top of your head, “Did you mean it?” 

“Mean what?” You said raspily, your face pressed flat against his bandy chest. 

His hand found the swell of your ass, fingers grabbing hold and squeezing so tight you were sure there’d be a bruise later, “About doing anything. For me.”

You nodded, still not looking at him. This answer didn’t please him, however, and the hand that had been petting you tangled through your hair and roughly pulled you away, to look up at him. “In words.”

“Y— yes. I’ll do anything for you.” You rattled off, prickling pain twisting in your scalp. 

“You’ll be a good girl for me?”

“The best.” 

A grin twisted his pink, plush lips, and he promptly pushed you face down flat against his cold, wooden desk. It was rough, and sudden, pain blooming in your side. But there was a tug in your lower stomach at the way he handled you, all selfish and touchy and focused solely on chasing after his own pleasure. 

Crane’s hands roamed all over your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. His touch was insatiable, rubbing and petting and kneading at every part of your body. 

His hands found your thighs, squeezing at the flesh, before hiking up your skirt and inspecting your panties. “Oh, you’re fucking soaked,” Crane rumbled out, voice like gravel. “You liked it, didn’t you? When I said I’d admit you to Arkham.”

Then, you heard him kneel down, and begin to press sloppy, wet kisses on your legs. “Be honest,” he said between kisses, “you want me to admit you, have you all to myself in isolation.”

You didn’t respond, instead whimpering and bucking forward when you could feel Crane’s sharp teeth brush over your sensitive skin. He noticed the effect he had on you, and you felt him smile against you. 

“Please,” you keened out, not dissimilar to how you begged him just moments ago, “stop teasing, Professor.”

You felt Crane’s hot breath fan over your clothed mound, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. “Stop teasing, how?” he said at last, before suddenly pushing your panties to the side and licking a stripe up your cunt. He lapped at your lips, collecting your wetness on his tongue, but he didn’t go further. 

“Pro - Professor,” you whined, grounding out a low moan. It wasn’t enough, and he knew it. He liked playing with you, making you squirm and shake and beg for more.

“What? This not enough for you?” He pulled away, and you hissed at the cold that hit you. Then, he tugged, hard, pulling both your underwear and your skirt down to your knees. 

“You want me to eat you out till you’re a trembling fucking mess, don’t you?” He buried himself between your legs, “I knew you were a horny little slut.”

Finally, his tongue found you once more, and pushed deep into your folds. Crane’s tongue ran across every rivet your pussy had, before darting out to your clit, suckling at the velvet bundle of nerves. His touch drew out a high-pitched keen, your back arching. 

You couldn’t see him, face still pressed against the wooden desk, but you could hear him, the filthy squelching of your pussy and his tongue making your knees buckle. 

“Fuck, Jonathan,” you choked out, when he went deeper into your quivering hole, your body tingling like nothing you’d ever felt before. At your reaction, his name curling around your pretty little lips, he went faster, wet mouth brushing against you, licking you up and down, animalistic, following his instinct to a tee.

“Please, wait -“ You said, feeling the knot in your insides grow tighter, the heat washing over you like a steaming shower, toes curling in your flats. 

“What?” He growled out beneath you, not letting up his assault on your cunt. 

“I don’t - don’t wanna come on your tongue…” You said, shaking your head weakly against the desk. “Wanna - wanna feel you in me.”

Jonathan snorted, and continued to lap up your insides, “D’you think you have a fucking choice? Huh? I know you’re a whore, you could do this all day. I’ll just make you come again on my cock.”

Before you could protest, or even just whine at his words, you shut your eyes, feeling yourself come undone, your legs barely able to keep you upright. His hands had reached away from your thighs, rough fingers toying with your fleshy button, maximizing the climax washing over you tenfold. 

“Jonathan, Jonathan!” You practically screamed out, heat in your stomach pulsing rapidly. 

“Ugh, fuck,” You heard him say, “you’re creaming all over my fucking face.” 

You were a complete mess by the time he pulled away from you, your high washing away as Crane wiped the come and wetness off his face. 

“You came that hard, just on my tongue?” He mocked, fingers spreading your lips and observing your swollen pussy as you laid flat, weakly gripping the edge of the desk so you’d stay standing. 

“Well,” he said, reaching down to his pants and undoing his belt buckle and fly, “M’not done with this sweet little cunt just yet.”

Your eyes widened, “I’m - I’m still sensitive, wait-“

Jonathan didn’t listen, however, letting his pants and boxers pool at his feet, stroking himself in the artificial light of his office, which smelt like sweat and sex. 

He spat on his hand, first coating his cock in it, then your parted lips (which you theorized was just because he wanted to feel you up again), before lining up his thick head at your entrance. “God,” he groaned, “you’re so fucking wet.”

You keened at the intrusion you felt between your legs, “Jonathan, please, jus’ - give me a sec to rest —“ You were interrupted however, by the shock of how big he felt. 

You hadn’t gotten a look at him, but as he let himself slowly enter you, you could tell it was bigger than anything you’d ever taken before. “You’re - you’re too big!” you squeaked out, “You won’t fit.”

He laughed, hands resting on your hips as he held you upright. “I’ll make it fit,” he said, before roughly pounding the rest of himself into you, stretching out your inexperienced cunt. 

You choked, his fat cock pushing you wider than you’d ever been before, the pain biting at you, a burning feeling spreading within your lower body. “Jon- Jonathan,” was all you could say, as he slowly pulled out, pure relief written on your face, until he sank right back into you, somehow deeper than before. 

Tears welled in your eyes, as he gripped harshly on the flesh of your hips, making you pound back and forth on him. His cock was hard, and thick, and he was forcing the thing deep within you at an excruciatingly quick pace. Your sensitivity was the cherry on top to this whole situation - you were trembling, body weak, shallow breaths and teary moans tearing out of you at the overstimulation.

Soon, however, the pain slowly dissolved into a filthy, exquisite pleasure that echoed throughout your entire body. The rhythm your professor had gotten to was downright perfect, filling you completely and making you clench in all the right places. Crane made your brain go foggy, focussing solely on the sound of your skin slapping against each other in the quiet, after-hours office, his taller frame encapsulating you completely.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he cooed, hands moving to splay across your ass and spread you open further. “How many cocks have taken this sweet pussy, huh?”

You gulped. “Just,” you started, but then your eyes rolled to the back of your head, stopping you mid-sentence as his length brushed up to your most sensitive spot.

“How,” he gripped you tighter, “many,” slipped out, “cocks!”  then thrust into you roughly, rougher than before and making the desk screech forward a few inches.

“Just one!” You said at last, words choked up as his long cock pierced you. 

“Just one, huh?” He said and began pounding in and out of you faster, rougher, needier, “I bet you didn’t even fucking come, you’re so tight. This pretty pussy of yours is practically virgin.”

“Uh-huh,” you said incoherently, thoughts blending together. “Jus’ a - a fucking virgin for you,” you babbled out, losing yourself in the fast-paced pleasure he was serving on a silver platter. 

“That you are,” Jonathan growled, “you’re just my horny virgin. Mine.” Every thrust he plunged into you brushed up against that plush spot deep within you, making you drool, body going slack. 

“Oh, jesus, you’re so fucked out,” he murmured, looking down at your limp, trembling form. “Drunk on my thick fucking cock.”

The ecstasy was becoming too much for you now, controlling you completely, like if he stopped fucking you right now you’d be so fucking needy, going slowly insane until he touched you again. You knew you wouldn’t be able to fuck anyone else and feel the same; he made you feel fucking feral, instinctual, your id going into drive and controlling you instead of logic. Your darling was the only one you wanted to offer yourself up completely to. He could do anything he fucking wanted to you, and you’d take it in stride. 

“Jonathan,” you keened, feeling your walls clench around him tighter, “m’close.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, voice deep and dangerous, “keep that orgasm in, whore, till I tell you to.”

Your cheeks burned, distraught at the denial of your release, especially when his cock slipped out of you as he flipped you over. Quickly, however, he rammed his cock back into you. You were facing each other now, and you could see how hot and bothered he looked, despite how confident and careless his words had been as he fucked you.

His lips were bitten between his teeth, hair sticking to the sweat on his face, cheeks flushed. He was focussed entirely on getting back that rhythm, and you let him, watching how his gorgeous features contorted as your hot cunt sucked him in. 

Your arms reached around his neck, and he promptly lifted your legs up to hook around his back, making him fill you even further. 

“Fuck me!” You squealed, his shaft reaching places you didn’t know could be reached. It was getting harder to stop your impending orgasm, and your felt fucking sick at how sweetly he was stretching you, how you knew you couldn’t let go no matter what despite the delicious pleasure. 

“Already am, baby,” he grumbled, rutting in and out of you at a dizzying pace. You felt his pace stutter, slightly, and you heard his small, revealing whines of pleasure as his head was nestled in the nook of your neck, and you knew he was close. 

The thought of him coming in you made you tighten and tense, and he felt it, your back lifting off the desk in an arch. 

“Fuck, how’d you get even tighter?” he said shakily, before sliding out of you so far he almost pulled out completely, then let his cock thrust into you so hard you saw stars dancing across your vision.

You merely mewled back at him in response. 

“Come,” he said breathily, “come all over my thick— ugh, fuuuck, just like that, yes,” his sentence was cut off as you let go, letting the waves of pleasure surge through your body like electricity. 

Your body shook, your knees trembled, and an animalistic whine slipped out of your bruise throat as he thrust into you jerkily. Just as quickly as you camez, he did too, and you felt Jonathan’s load shoot straight up into your worn-out cunt, not impeded by a condom of any sorts. Crane’s head cocked back as he did so, jaw clenching as he released his sweet and sticky liquid deep within you, warm and coating your walls completely.

For a moment, he laid atop of you, and you both kept silent, the office filled with nothing but your breathing and the sweet smell of come. Then, he pulled away, both of you wincing as his cock left you, his come dripping out of your weeping hole onto his office floors. 

He pulled his underwear and pants back on, but revelled in your own crumpled form on his desk, your shirt hiked up, your skirt and panties hanging off your ankles, barely there. It was a shame he couldn’t have explored further up your body, groped those tits he loved seeing bounce during tutoring, but his need to fill your pussy up took precedent.

Jonathan swiped a finger into your cunt, collecting some of your combined liquid, and you flinched at the feeling. Then, he licked at his dirty finger. “Oh, baby,” he heaved, “we taste delectable mixed together.” 

You raised a brow, then weakly lifted yourself off the desk, pulling up your panties and skirt (not without adoring the feeling of Jonathan’s fresh, wet come smearing all over your panties and sensitive cunt) before reaching for his hand. He leaned in towards you, and you lapped up the juice on his finger, grinning up at him.

Jonathan looked completely lost in your performance, brows knitted. “Jesus fucking christ,” he whispered under his breath, “where has a perfect little fucktoy like you been hiding from me?”

“Oh,” you said, nonchalant, “just stalking you.” 

#jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #batman begins #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy smut

[yawujin]

Hiiiiii if you don't mind can you pls write v3 boys x reader who can't read social cues for the life of them and need to be told directly to understand a situation.

For example: *one of the boys shows romantic interest*

Reader: "WOW so friendly"

The more I describe it the more it sounds like Marinette from miraculous ladybug

Pls&thx

i've never really written something like this so i hope you like how it turned out anon! ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ )

request | how the v3 boys would react to reader that isn't good with social cues

type | react , established relationship , non killing game , gender neutral reader

shuichi saihara ♡

he's trying his best to make it known that he likes you

kaito and maki have definitely noticed how he's grown so fond of you

although he had to tell kaito straight up that he liked you

well, he finally does it, confessing to you

"to be honest with you, (Y/N), i really like hanging around you..."

can he make it any more obvious?

no, seriously, can he?

you thank him and say you'd love to hang out more!

he instantly realizes he needs to be more clear

"no! i mean, i like you, alot... as in more than a friend..."

you encourage him to be more outspoken in the future

rantaro amami ♡

tries to confess to you in a lowkey way

but once he realizes you don't really get what he's saying

he ups the ante

he starts showing more affection towards you

and then finally he tries again

"you know i really like you, right (Y/N)?"

he explains that he wants to go on a date to show his likeness

ohhh he likes me in that way you think to yourself

K1B0/kiibo ♡

firstly, he does everything you want him to do because he thinks that's how easy it will be to get you to realize he likes you

but it's not

secondly, he tries to just straight up tell you but it's hard to express his emotions

finally, he uses himself to print out a note that has his messy handwriting all over it

who knew he could be so forward when writing?

it read "i love you, (Y/N)! i hope you accept my feelings"

and it definitely got the message across

korekiyo shinguji ♡

he's pretty nonchalant so it's difficult at first for him

he knows that gift giving is a pretty common way for someome to show their likeness towards someone

so he tries that (althought he might not be the best at giving gifts)

but when he does

you just think he's being friendly

kiyo, just like rantaro, will try showing more affection towards you

he touches your arms, plays with your hair etc

"everything about you is so wonderful..."

"i would like for you to share that wonder with me"

and that gets the message across

kaito momota ♡

he would realize that you probably took his outright profession of love to you and chalked it up to him just being a good friend

as per usual

he woke up in a cold sweat about this and decided that starting tomorrow he'll be extra kind towards you

over the course of a few days, he creates a nickname for you

you guys hang out together even more you two are alone more often than not now

he held on to both of your hands and squeezed them

"(Y/N), i'm not sure else how to say this but...will you go out with me sometime?"

gonta gokuhara ♡

gonta accomodates you and invites you everywhere

he just wants to show that he likes you!

he thought it was working for a while until

"you're such a good friend, gonta!"

he shakes his head 'no'

"gonta want him and (Y/N) to be more than friends..."

you understood but was taken aback

he shys away almost instantly

"only if that what (Y/N) want!"

ryoma hoshi ♡

he gets it completely

he isn't a stranger to being outspoken so he's fine with telling you how things are straight up

it just so happens that he likes you a lot

so in this case, he asks:

"would you want to go out with me?" "tell me what you want and you'll get it."

your transition into a platonic relationship to a romantic one was easy

ryoma is easy to get along with <3

kokichi ouma ♡

he has to quickly find solutions on how to tell you his feelings without being too sappy about it

he isn't too good at that

he also wants to do it before he runs out of patience with himself

he does what he does best and pulls a prank on you

when you ask him why he did it he just says:

"isn't it obvious? it's because i like you."

is he being fr? you can never tell

but the confusion you had finally gets cleared up when you get outside confirmation from miu that he is falling hard for you

#danganronpa x reader #drv3 killing harmony #shuichi saihara x reader #rantaro amami x reader #kiibo x reader #drv3 k1b0 #korekiyo x reader #korekiyo shinguji #kaito momota x reader #gonta gokuhara x reader #ryoma hoshi x reader #kokichi ouma x reader #kaito momota #gonta gokuhara #ryoma hoshi #kokichi ouma #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa imagines

[kakushino]

Would you love me if I were a worm?

Rengoku Kyojuro x GN! Reader

He survived but at what cost?

Tags: fluff, slight angst, Kyojuro survives Mugen train AU

Word count: 0,6k

Masterlist | Rebuilding the ruins of castle Me masterlist

AN: Written as a Christmas gift for dear @glitchtricks94 - Merry Christmas!

I contemplated renaming it Kintsugi (hence the header) but I like this title more.

“Uma- ouch-” Kyojuro forgot, for the nth time, that he was still recovering from having a hole in his abdomen; shouting was a long way away from happening for him yet. Instead of ‘admitting defeat’, he whispered a strained “Umai…” before taking another dango into his mouth, chewing and enjoying the taste as he tried to focus on the sweetness of the treat rather than the bitterness of his wound.

It was a peaceful afternoon, the sun shone brightly, and the boys were training in his backyard while he enjoyed tea and a snack you had made for him.

You, his love…

All throughout your relationship, you had asked him, half joking, if he would love you were you to become a worm. The question greatly confused him every time, even stunned him speechless the first, but he had always answered a resolute yes. 

What he failed to do was ask you the same.

Even so, each day he woke up now, feeling like a worm, a useless bug, and each day you took care of him - you built your home to suit his needs, helped him bathe, cooked for him, entertained him - when he had nothing to give you back. He had become someone you didn’t ask for, someone you didn’t ‘sign up’ to love.

Kyojuro had never asked the question, but your response was an infallible yes - all the more, you showed it, your actions proved it.

He had never fallen so deep for someone in his life, being near you made him happy, though there was always a lingering inner torment fraying him at the edges…

Underneath his carefully crafted facade, you knew he wasn’t fine. Kyojuro survived, at a great cost - an eye, and his career, his youth, his strength. 

He used to smile even in his sleep; the usually peaceful expression had been replaced by a frown or a frighteningly borderline angry expression. He also couldn’t spoon you, not yet, which agonized him more than he could admit. He missed cuddling you, you could see that every time you went to bed.

You were aware he was always in pain, though he said nothing, so you quietly placed painkillers alongside his tea and dango today. Kyojuro couldn’t be more grateful you were in his life.

“The dango is delicious, my love,” he whispered to you as you finally sat down beside him. Tanjiro’s soft laughter echoed in the yard, Zenitsu’s crying and Inosuke’s howling a complementary melody adding to the usual chaos of your home. Something like peace settled in his chest.

“I’m glad. Don’t forget to drink the tea, it’s already cold.” You smiled at him as he reached for his cup. Kyojuro seemed to do so absent-mindedly, it was kind of endearing to see him trust you so much he gave no thought to your instructions.

Wooden clack clack became a distant rhythm while you both soaked in the warmth of the sun - the very same one which signaled the end of his last dance with the devil. 

Become a demon, Kyojuro.

His scars throbbed in dull pain, his teeth clenched, an irrational panic set in, and he could not help but seek out everyone around him with his eye to make sure-

The boys were at it again, a goofy ball of energy rolling all over the training space, sweat making dirt stick to their skin. Tanjiro, alive. Zenitsu, alive. Inosuke, alive.

And you-

You were looking at him calmly; his feelings wild, all over the place but then Kyojuro looked in your eyes. He saw everything he thought he had lost, he felt as if you two were the only ones in your home.

Would you love him if he were a worm?

Yes. Yes, you do.

dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

Probably will become a 3-parter, 2nd part coming on 24th December

#he deserved to live gdi #he deserved a soft epilogue #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro x you #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x you #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro #kny kyojuro #kny x reader #kny fanfic #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #desi the blue eyed kakushi #kakushino

[lfghughes]

Pure

a/n: asked if you guys were ready but i wasn't even ready

warning: 18++ only, smutty content,

Maybe you and Nico hadn’t thought this out fully when you had booked the room a few months back. When Nico had decided he wanted to come to the NHL awards he already knew you would be going and his family. The easiest thing for him to do at the time which sounded like a great idea was book one of those larger suites in the hotel so all of you could stay together. Looking back at it now there was absolutely no privacy and even in the comfort of your bedroom inside the suite it didn’t feel that private because the walls were thin.

No way were you going to do anything with Nico where his family could potentially hear you all. This came to be great disappointment for Nico and he even tried to get an extra room just for the two of you which you shot down because this was family time and regardless because of the popularity of the event there weren’t any available rooms anyways.

Right now it was early morning and you both were in the kitchen getting some things ready for breakfast before everyone else woke up. All your thoughts on what exactly to make got interrupted when he came up behind you, his lips immediately going to your neck. “Nico, not right now. Everyone is about to wake up.” You warned him as his hands moved to the band of your sweatpants. What you would give for him to actually touch you right now. “Just real quick.” He mumbled as his fingers dipped inside your sweats.

“Good morning!” Nicos moms voice rang into the room and almost immediately you both pulled away from each other. “I was just making breakfast.” You smiled, trying to act like her son hadn’t just made you think very unpure things. “I’m going to take a shower.” Nico announced before leaving the room and you had a feeling that shower water was going to be very cold.

Today was the day of the awards so everyone was going to be busy getting ready later and you were kind of thankful for the distractions because you knew Nico was only going to get needier if he had time on his hands. Because of all the little things that needed to get done a good chunk of the day flew by and before you knew it everyone was dressed and ready to go. Nicos family was going to drive out first to get some food while the social media account still wanted to get video content of Nico.

You decided to stick around with Nico and you watched him get his jacket on. The social media account would definitely be getting some attention tonight because your boyfriend was hot. Now you were the one feeling needier than ever and one look at you and your boyfriend could tell. The social media team left your room and a small smirk filled his lips. “You know, we are finally alone.” He pointed out as you looked at the time. “We have to be quick or we’ll be late.”

That was really all he needed to hear before he was on you and you reciprocated back easily, your hands immediately going for his jacket, taking it off and then going to his belt next. You could feel his own hands going to your hips as he turned you around. Your hands went on the counter and you could feel desire pool inside your stomach as you heard him shuffle himself around behind you. There was no point in teasing or any kind of foreplay, not when time was limited. Instead you felt him completely fill you up and the pleasure you got from it reminded you of everything you had been missing out on the past couple of days.

“Fuck, baby.” Nico mumbled behind you as his fingers gripped into your hips. The feeling of him pumping in and out of you filled you with pleasure and before you knew you were both coming undone. Both of you stood there for a minute, catching your breath before he pulled out. You carefully readjusted your dress, surprised at how careful he had been. “You were pretty careful with the dress. I’m proud.” You teased him as you looked up your boyfriend who still had desire and need written all over his face. “I definitely am not going to be careful later tonight.”

#nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier

[onepiecepetalfanfics089]

Can you do yandere strawhats with a female reader who had woken up from a nightmare/memory of escaping her abusive ex and she’s in need of comfort?

Never Leave You Alone~..

Trigger warning!!:violence and remembering trauma!

Darkness surround you as cold sweat trickled down your body.

The room was illuminated by the moonlight but that gave you no comfort, looking around frantically you clenched your sheets and but your lip. Tears were building up in your eyes already.

Was it all a dream?..it had to be..

We’re they coming for you?..

No way..you were in the middle of the sea on a ship..they couldn’t find you right?..they wouldn’t hurt you again…they couldn’t..

Getting up out of your sheets you quickly got out out of the bed in your room to go and find some comfort at last..

———————————————————————

The dream was somewhat simple at first but so…familiar..

You were in the kitchen and making yourself a snack at your old home. Before you joined the strawhats that is..

Before you could escape from them..

Everything was nice quiet and peaceful when suddenly..

BOOM

The door flew open and your breath hitched. You clutched the counter slightly but tried to remain calm.

Just their presence alone made you shake and tremble..

Footsteps slowly came closer to you as you could hear them approaching the kitchen. You shut your eyes for a moment and tried to go back to what you were you doing, your hands were shaking to much though so you almost dropped the butter knife you were using to spread some jelly on a slice of bread.

The footsteps came closer..and closer until they stopped. Right behind you.

Silence filled the air as you held your breath, feeling your lungs tighten from the pressure and caution that was building up in your body.

…

“So you aren’t even going to say hi to me?..your partner?..typical..”

They said in a mocking tone with a scoff.

With trembling lips you slowly brought it up into the best smile you could manage to plaster in your face.

“H-Hi dear..I’m sorry I..zoned out while I was making a snack!”

You had learned to hide your fear by now from being with them for almost a year..

A year you’ve been abused by this monster..

Little did you know that your ‘freedom’ would be sugar coated with golden chains when you meet the people who will ‘save you’..

Their eyes stared blankly into yours with a hint of annoyance and even hate..

Why were you even here?..you knew they didn’t treat you right..

But every.single.time. you tried to leave..they would beg for you to come back..they would say that they’ll change for you..

Glancing at the sandwich you made they took it without a thought and took a bite of it, without even asking and knowing that it was yours that you made.

Only a split second passed and they spit it out with a snarl, glaring at you like you were the most disgusting thing they saw today.

“How the hell can you even screw making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich wrong?! You’re fucking pathetic!..I swear I even wonder why I put up with your shit.”

They said with an eye roll. Your heart sank as every single word felt like a stab to your heart. Looking down sadly you had nothing to say, mumbling a apology for something you didn’t even need to apologize for.

Out of no where, they slapped you. Hard.

The pain stung your cheek as you brought your hand up to it with sadness, fear and shock shown all on your face.

Then another slap came..then a punch to your face.

“P-Please! Stop it I’m sorry!”

You cried, desperately trying to get out of their grip but no use as they held you by your neck. Hatred and violence was written across from them, a smug smirk of power even spread across.

Then another punch came and you saw their fist..you shut your eyes with a whimper..

‘Please stop please stop!!’

Suddenly everything went blank you woke up. The moonlight illuminating the room and the cold sweat trickling down your body and face.

Tears now streamed down your cheeks.

Comfort is what you needed..

And that’s what you’ll get..for a price though..

.

.

.

.

.

Slender and graceful hands slowly massaged your back and shoulders to calm you as you drank sone tea Sanji made you. Robin was sitting down beside you and using her powers to ease your stress with your touch while you ate a mid-night snack made by Sanji of course.

Your mind was scrambling and you almost felt dizzy, why does this keep happening to you..?

Sanji’s hand slowly crept up to your thigh and began to rub rub sensually. His thumb slowly moving in a circular motion while the mix of his cologne and cigarette smoke filled your nose from time to time to the point where you couldn’t really smell the tea because he was so close..

You didn’t notice though and just kept trying to lean into their touch. Trying to relax after dreaming of such horrors..

Robin and Sanji weren’t the only ones who’d woken up in the middle of the night to comfort you,

After you woke up you ran to Robin who shushed your sweetly and took you to the kitchen. That’s when you saw Sanji who was doing some late cleaning in the kitchen. Then Nami came out because you were being a bit loud, Brook next..Then Franky then chopper and usopp. Jinbe after and lastly Zoro and Luffy came out because of the ruckus.

“I-I don’t know why I can’t seem to forget about them..or at least get over them..”

You said shakily, your voice was trembling as you looked down at your lap and clenched te tea cup you were holding onto.

All eyes were on you and no one seemed to talk immediately. Brook was playing your favorite song on the violin while Chopper was mixing up what he said to be some nice and relaxing night medicine.

The image of them ran through your mind like wild fire as you started to get chocked up..this was horrible..how could you put all this on your crew?..

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with this again..I-”

“Stop it.”

Zoro’s monotone voice cut Your sentence short as you blinked back your tears and looked up at the swordsman who sighed and got up, putting his hand on your shoulder and looking in your eyes.

“Y/N..we’re a crew and we’re your friends..you can come to us as many times as you need because we’ll always be there for you..didn’t we say that when you first joined..?”

He asked slightly raising an eyebrow and leaning a bit closer to you, a dark and cautious feeling started to boil in your stomach but..you were so blind with how much they cared for you..their comfort..their attention they gave to you..

You slowly nodded and smiled sadly.

“Yeah..You’re right..I shouldn’t be ashamed of just telling you my problems because that’s what friends are for..” you said softly as his thumb brushed across the back of your neck.

You could feel Sanji’s hand grasp a bit tighter on your thigh but of course not enough to hurt you.

“Y/N dear..you should probably get some sleep now..if you need us just come to us again because we don’t mind..” he said softly, his eyes burning into yours.

Luffy grinned and nodded along with the cook. “Yeah..we’ve got sone stuff to take care of anyways..”

“It would be best if you take this medication Y/N..it’ll help you sleep better and more peacefully..” chopper said while pouring sone pastel purple liquid into your drink that you assumed was the medicine.

For some reason you felt…unsure about this..

What would they do after you fell asleep..? The look on their faces seemed..unusual..

Reluctantly, you nodded and took a sip of your tea. Almost two seconds after it hit you. Your eye lids were droopy and you could barely sit up straight.

Just why was this stuff so strong..?

Big strong and metal arms picked you up bridal style as the sound of Luffy giving orders rang through your ears. His voice sounded a bit more serious for some reason and the crew looked even more unamused about what they were about to do.

Once you were out into your bed you couldn’t even say goodnight to Franky. He tucked you in and stared at you for a bit. Patting your head he adjusted his sunglasses and walked out of your room in the womens quarters.

Silence filled the air and the only sound that was truly audible was the padding of footsteps heading down to the lower deck.

To a room that kept something very..special..

Ten figures loomed over a person who was tied up in a chair, their mouth gagged, arms and legs tied together but most importantly they were awake to feel all of it.

Your ex was in that chair. They were about to have the worst night of their life it seemed.

The gripping of swords, cracking of knuckles, the sound of someone lighting and of course the creating of a large thunder cloud was heard as the crew got ready to fight.

Fear was written all over the person who dared to hurt you so badly face. They tried to beg, to scream and plead. Funny right? Almost the same way that they begged and pleaded for you to stay..!

These pirates were having none of it.

It was too late for them..although you didn’t even ask for this..for them to..take care of the person who hurt you so bad..

They’re your crew mates after all so you didn’t need to.

After how they treated you..how much they hurt you..they would do anything to protect you..

They’ll Never Leave You Alone again..they can promise you that..

Hey guys!! I hope you liked this one because I sure did! I loved writing it and I tried to put as much emotion as I could because I feel like I’ve been lacking lately on my stories lol 😭 thank you to whoever requested this because I love it and I hope I wasn’t too much writing it! I got sone stuff in the works that I KNOW you guys will like so i would be prepared! Also I am still taking requests! but until then bye my lively petals!!❤️🌸💕🫶🏼

Oh and by the way I just wanted to say that if you are in a abusive relationship, physical or mental then please seek help. No matter who you are you deserve better than to be treated like that and you are so much more than you think you are <3 please reach out for help if you’re suffering like that from anyone because you’re beautiful and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does. If you’ve successfully escaped out of that toxic relationship then I’m so so proud of you and you deserve to be rewarded. I’ll say it one or twice or as many times as I need to, you deserve more and you are important.

Stay safe my pretty petals<3🌸

#one piece #one piece strawhats #writing #straw hat crew #fypdongggggggg #brook one piece #yandere x reader #fypシ゚viral #cat burglar nami #one piece luffy #fypppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp #fypツ #yandere luffy #yandere zoro #yandere one piece #anime and manga #anime #oneshot #fypfypfypfypfypfypdypfypfypfypfypfypfyfpfyfpfyp #fypシ #yandere sanji #yandere strawhats #tw abuse #fypage #romantic yandere #tumblr fyp #fyppage #straw hat sanji #straw hats x reader #fyp

[harlowcomehome]

Rage room meltdowns:

You woke up to an empty bed, yet again. You groaned as you felt the cold spot where your husband usually lay, meaning he hadn’t been in bed for a while.

You walked out into your living room, no sign of Jack at all. You heard muffled conversation coming from one of the guest rooms, he usually took calls in there so he wouldn’t disturb you.

You heard something hit the wall and you opened the door to find Jack sitting on the ground, his legs up to his chest. His face was hidden in his hands that rested on his knees.

You had seen this dozens of times, Jack would overwork himself to the point of exhaustion or even beyond, and then he’d fully meltdown. It wasn’t abnormal, he had a lot of pressure on him and you did your best to be understanding.

“Oh my baby” you whispered as you sat beside him on the ground. “Talk to me.”

He wanted to vent to you but at the moment he truly just didn’t know how. He had several deadlines approaching, he and Urban got into an argument and it felt like one thing after the other. He shrugged and you knew it was best to let him go through the motions, you ran your fingers through his curls, kissing his head before leaving him to be alone.

You checked his schedule, you had access to his calendar, and you wanted to make sure he would be free before making any further plans.

He had three free hours in the afternoon and you quickly made plans to change that.

Slowly throughout the day, he vented to you, giving you small pieces of information to go off of but still not fully opening up.

When 3:00 pm came around he walked over to you, “Did you add this?” He pointed to his calendar and you smiled.

“Yes, please go put on shoes and a hoodie” You placed a hand on his bicep giving it a soft squeeze.

He looked at you confused but did as you asked and the two of you got into the car.

“Let me drive! I hate when you drive, it doesn’t feel right” he stood outside the driver's side door.

“Nope, you don’t even know where we are going. Get in passenger princess!”

He let out a chuckle at your joke and got into the passenger side. “What are we doing?”

“Harlow, it’s a fifteen-minute drive. Let me surprise you” You rolled your eyes and he laughed.

He knew you were trying to get him out of his bad mood, you often went above and beyond in some way to do that. He looked out the window, he wasn’t talkative and you understood that.

“Want me to put on some music?” He realized that he enjoyed the silence but maybe you didn’t.

“No, I know by now you need the quiet” you softly smiled.

When you pulled into the parking lot, he saw “RAGE ROOM” written in giant red bold letters.

“We're going there?” His eyes widened, he had been wanting to go but was never available to.

“I booked a private session so nobody would bother you” You parked the car and hopped out immediately. “Let’s go!”

You and Jack signed waivers and got the appropriate headgear, goggles, gloves, and shoe covers on.

At first, you felt shy, not wanting to get into it but seeing your husband let loose helped. You laughed at Jack throwing up the glass beer bottles and hitting them with a bat.

“Fun huh?” You asked as he started breaking all the other items.

He didn’t hear you, he was completely lost in his thoughts. You had paid for bigger items to break also such as a television and computer monitor and he was currently destroying those.

He was hitting them and hitting them, the contents flying all over the room. You backed up to make sure you weren’t in the way.

Eventually, you realized that he was crying, sweat was also trailing down his face.

He dropped the bat, and you dropped yours too, running over to him to console him. He took the goggles and helmet off, ripping his gloves off and throwing them to the side as you mirrored him in doing the same.

“It’s okay, it’s okay baby” you hugged him. You were rubbing his back as he cried against you. You knew he had a lot of pent-up aggression, hence why you were here but you didn’t mean for him to get upset.

“I needed this” he choked back, swallowing the tears he had trying to escape.

“Baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry” You looked up at him, wiping his face. “I meant for this to be a fun thing!”

“It was fun! I just needed to release everything” he assured you as he collected himself.

“Do you wanna talk about it now?”

He started going into detail about how he had deadlines and how Urban asked for some personal time off and that he didn’t handle it well even though he knew Urban more than deserved it.

You knew he had overreacted, you had already spoken with Urban who knew Jack reacted out of stress and nothing more, you both were used to it but it still wasn’t an excuse.

“Thank you for doing this” he sniffled as he bent down to kiss you. “I got to tell Urban about this place and-” he scratched the back of his neck “probably apologize.”

“You should do that! Apologize to him, but just know, I already made you two an appointment for Thursday” you smiled and he was not the least bit surprised.

“I assumed you’d stop being mad after this” you shrugged and he chuckled knowing you knew him all too well.

Requested by anonymous

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines

[sundeathh]

ANOTHER TROUBLED NIGHT

One-shot  |  Masterlist 

Pairing: Aizawa × GN!reader | Words: 1,5K

Fandom: BNHA | MHA  | Categories: SFW, comfort

CW: Night terror, anxiety/panic attack description, psychosis description, insinuation of self-harm. Please do not read if you think you could be triggered by any of these.

A/N: I've had this written in my notes app for a while. Thought I'd share how I'd like to receive comfort after a rough night.

You woke up with a loud gasp for air, your eyes widening as you felt something wet run down your cheeks. Your breathing was rapid; you were covered in a cold sweat and trembling like crazy. 

You sat up straight, attempting to take deep breaths as you wiped away all the tears off your face, desperately trying to calm yourself down at the realization that you were only dreaming.

But you could not slow down your heart rate, and you started to feel yourself hyperventilating – you could hardly breathe, your vision blurring due to your need for crying; It did not help that it felt like someone had stabbed an ice pick right through your chest, making it hard to swallow your spit.

You were becoming terrified by now, your mind going blank as you tried to steady yourself. Your head was pounding so hard that everything seemed out of place. 

You also felt tremendously nauseous from the stress your brain kept producing throughout your dream, and you thought you could hear people shouting behind closed doors, though you knew it was not real. Nonetheless, the sound rumbled in your eardrums, making your headache worse.

'Am I having a panic attack right now? What's going on?!' You tried to reason. However, the thoughts running rampant through your mind caused you to get lost, unable to think about anything else.

All you could focus on was the pounding of your head and how weak you felt, how you were shaking uncontrollably, and how your heart seemed to speed up exponentially every second you breathed.

You could feel the sweat pouring down your forehead and neck, although you were unsure whether or not it was because you were hot or freaking out. At this point, it was hard to tell where your dream had ended and where the reality began. 

Everything was too chaotic, too vivid, and too overwhelming. Everything around you felt so real, yet nothing made sense. You could even feel paws crawling under your skin, which drove you insane. If you could move throughout your daze, you would try to rip your skin off you now.

From far away, you heard another strangled sound, and your head immediately whipped toward where it came from; that was no good, and you felt yourself starting to drown in the panic. The only sound you could hear properly was the high-pitched ringing in your ears.

It only increased your already high heartbeat, making it almost impossible for you to think straight. And when you heard that weird sound again, you tried your hardest to snap yourself out of your panicked state; you had to ground yourself at least a little.

Then, you spotted a blurry figure next to you. However, you could not make sense of whatever was happening – everything felt fuzzy, especially with the loud noise in your ears.

And when your eyes focused on the figure, you forced yourself to try to make out the form. You thought it looked like a guy, and he looked just as terrified as you did;

It took a long moment before you finally recognized the person sitting next to you. It was the same man that lay limp next to you before, but now he was awake. And he was watching you with wide – horrified, red eyes. He was frozen, not moving a single muscle while his gaze bore into yours.

And after what felt like an eternity, you noticed that his mouth was moving slightly, but it seemed as if nothing would come out of it. At least, not until you heard him speak. His voice was faint at first, barely audible. Yet, you managed to make out a word eventually.

"...green?" He mouthed, and your confusion only multiplied after hearing that. You were so confused; it was difficult to focus on anything anymore.

"Can you tell me something yellow, then?" He tried again. His words sounded slurred, but you still managed to comprehend them.

All you could answer was a confused "huh?!" Before you blinked, causing the blurriness to disappear slowly, allowing you to see your surroundings again. It was a very familiar area, and your heart beat harder at realizing it was home. Still, you could not remember what happened before you had woken up.

"...baby?" Aizawa called again, his voice low for fear of startling you even more. Your gaze lingered for a moment on nothing specific around the room before returning to his face. And for even longer, all you could do was stare, dumbfounded. You were not even sure what the hell you should say. It was almost like you had forgotten how to speak.

Another couple of minutes passed with Shōta staring back at you, patiently waiting for an answer. He was getting worried; you could tell. But he was afraid of saying or doing anything wrong, so he stayed quiet, waiting for you to be ready.

And you finally opened your mouth, although it was shaky and unsure. You were still somewhat lost in your daze, your mind slowly processing what was happening and what Aizawa asked you to explain. So, all you could come up with in your head was a simple sentence.

"Your sleeping bag." You murmured, and Aizawa seemed to let out a sigh of relief, smiling softly at you.

That calmed you enough to give you some semblance of clarity, although you still looked quite distressed. And as Shōta watched your expression change to a normal-like one after a few seconds, however, another wave of concern washed over him.

His smile faded a bit. He had you speaking, and that was a huge win. But he had to make sure you would stay grounded.

Then, he opened his mouth to ask something else, but before he could say it, you realized that your previous statement did not quite capture what he was trying to ask you, so you repeated yourself to try and convey better.

"Your sleeping bag," you said again, "is yellow."

This time, you had Aizawa nodding, his face breaking into a relieved smile. "Good job," he spoke quietly, and you stared at him for a few seconds before turning your gaze downwards.

"Can you count your breathing, babe?" He continued, "can you listen to mine? Just follow it." He instructed. You nodded, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down.

You listened carefully and tried to breathe slowly, repeating the motions until you got the hang of it. And when you finished a few rounds, your heartbeat was almost normal, and you turned your head back up, looking at the man next to you.

He gave you another encouraging nod, and now it was your turn to smile.

"Is there anyone else here with us?" The ravenette asked you once you finished regulating your breathing. He needed to know if you were still delusional. And for his relief, you shook your head, as you did not have any energy for talking now. 

Aizawa relaxed visibly, glad you were at least aware enough to communicate with him. He wanted to comfort and reassure you, but he also needed to reassure himself that you were okay with that;

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you need to use the bathroom?" He inquired, his tone was soft and kind but with worry lacing each syllable.

You shook your head again, though you did feel thirsty. And you needed to use the toilet. But you figured there was nothing much you could do – even if your legs worked perfectly fine, they would not be able to carry you anywhere by now.

Not that you minded too much, though. If anything, you could sit in one place for hours without needing anything in your current state.

But you could tell that Aizawa was growing anxious again. So, you reached forward and grabbed one of his hands without thinking twice about it, giving him a gentle squeeze, to which he squeezed back reassuringly.

"How about we lie down for a while?" He offered after a moment of silence. "Then, once you have rested, we can talk about it if you feel like it."

You nodded again. That was a relief; you didn't want to talk anymore today. And honestly, you barely could lift your eyelids, and you just wished this episode to be over with;

So, as soon as you lay down, you curled into a ball against Aizawa’s side, resting your head against his shoulder. He then wrapped his arm loosely around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his chest.

You felt his chin resting atop your head, and his scent instantly engulfed you. "Just take as much time as you need, love." He whispered against your ear. "We'll deal with whatever happens tomorrow." He promised, and you sighed, feeling safe and warm for the first time since... well, ever since you woke up this night.

The only thought going through your mind as you drifted off to sleep was that you needed this. After everything that has been happening to you these past few weeks, it was nice to have someone to lean on. Someone willing to carry the burden with you.

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #bnha aizawa #my hero academia aizawa #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #bnha fanfiction #bnha headcannons #aizawa shōta #mr aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa comfort #aizawa fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #boku no hero fanfic #bnha #my hero acedamia #comfort #fanfiction

[rainylana]

bad day<3

i’m sad today so thus this was written lol

You knew it was because of your nightmare, but the entire day hadn’t been a good one for you. You couldn’t keep your mind to reality, and all day you kept catching yourself staring off into space, mind held captive back at the upside down. When you saw Eddie, you couldn’t help but bite back tears in remembrance of his injuries. You’d both long since healed from that night. Everyone had. But it was also okay to have bad days. It was what made you human.

It also didn’t help that it had been storming all day. You were late to work and hadn’t ate all day. Plus, you’d gotten no sleep. Eddie noticed too, the bags under your eyes darker than usual.

It was late that following night. Eddie was passed out asleep on the recliner in the living room, wearing grey sweats and a baggy t shirt with a beer stain on the collar. You stared tiredly at the tv screen playing wheel of fortune, your head resting against his knee, your own knees resting against his ankles tucked away.

You were so exhausted and desperately needed sleep, but you had a lump in the back of your throat that had been there since you woke up. You knew everything was okay. That Eddie was fine. But still, it was okay to cry over everything that had happened, right? Your eyes teared up against his leg, and you shivered slightly from the cold.

Tears were soon to slip freely down your face, glowing in different shades of color from the spinning wheel on the screen. You let out a muffled sob against the fabric of his clothing, eyes crinkled up around your lashes. Your heart ached and your stomach twisted into sickness, your fingers tightening their grip on the frayed carpet you sat on.

You were so tired that you were practically crying in your sleep, eyes fluttering closed with little whimpers falling past your pink lips. You didn’t even feel alarmed at the warm hand at your shoulder.

“Y/n?” Eddie’s voice cracked tiredly, and you heard the squeak of the recliner as he sat up from his sleeping position. “Hey, are you-” He stopped, mouth gaping slightly when he peaked down at you and saw your tearful face. You didn’t hide away. You were too tired.

“Baby, hey, what’s the matter?” He said softly in concern, pushing himself down to the floor so he could kneel beside you. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He took your damp cheek in his palm, holding your face while the other went to your thigh, pulling your close. You didn’t even deny the fact, nor hide that you were crying like you normally did. You sniffled and took in the feeling of his hands, overwhelmed by a flush of ptsd from your nightmare. You let out a cry and leaned to put your forehead on his chest.

“What, baby?” He rubbed up and down your back. “Talk to me.”

You let out a small sob, your hand going to the scars on his stomach that were covered by his shirt and hovered over them. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Your voice had cracked into a million staticky waves. “I love you so much.”

His face faltered slightly before he squeezed you, sighing into your hair that was under his nose. He too, remembered that night at the mention of his survival. He shuddered at the thought, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “God, I love you.”

Sleep was crashing into you like a bullet train, and you whimpered as you pulled at his shirt. “I’m so tired. I just wanna sleep.”

His fingers combed at your hair before he licked his lips, lifting you slightly as he nodded toward the chair. “Come on.” He helped you stand and he guided you to lay beside him on the chair, pulling you practically atop of him as your feet hung off the end of the leather chair. He reached down to the floor and brought up the quilt blanket Nancy had made for the both of you, pulling it up around both your your shoulders. His arm hooked around you and your legs tangled together, chests pressed to one another’s and breathing began to match.

When it came to times like these, times where the upside down came back to haunt you, he decided it was usually best not to say anything. You knew he was okay. You knew he was alive and wasn’t going anywhere. You knew all of this, but he still understood that sometimes all you needed was a good cry. With sleep, however, he could help with.

You buried your face in his chest and cried softly from exhaustion and your own anxieties, Eddie’s lips on your forehead and hands rubbing up and down your body. “Try to sleep, honey.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll protect you.”

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie thoughts #eddie the brave #eddie the freak munson #eddie the banished

[somejazzinthemorning]

tightrope. 03

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language Word Count: 7.241 Previous chapter: 02.

Drowning myself in work is my go-to coping mechanism for more than half of my problems.

I'll either resort to racing or tracing brand strategies in an attempt to avoid having to face whatever problem throws my way and, that night, being 11 pm on a Wednesday, my laptop and the small whiteboard on my desk became my saving grace.

Despite the burning eyes and my aching back, after hours sat at my desk, my mind was still racing, high on whatever feelings the brush of his lips had evoked in my body. I fell asleep to the memory of his eyes and the velvet lips.

There was no way to escape it. We were already falling.

I woke up late, the next day.

My phone had a full wall of notifications ready to present me. A single text in the middle of the dozens of work-related emails, most of them answers to the ones I’d written during the night and scheduled to be sent in the early hours of the work day. I only realised I was smiling, probably high on my own expectations, when I felt my smile drop, after seeing who sent the text. Amanda. Not him.

“those updates on the project at 3 am??? r u okay?”

“sorry! i remembered to schedule the emails, but forgot about the notes on the project.” "got some good work done, tho”

"need to take a moment to reread all of your incoherent notes” "all that rambling is… wow” "BUUUUUT come to the office” "the things from the berlin store just arrived, you will love them”

"can’t make it today” "send pics!”

"come tomorrow, then! ill get churros for breakfast”

My phone went back to the nightstand and I pulled up the comforter, wrapping it around myself in an attempt to find some security and calm of mind. I peered out from under the comforter, staring at the dark room, only lightened by some streaks of light created from a gap in the blinds. I was still tired from the night, and my mind scrambled from everything we had shared.

Eventually, I left the bed. My mom was downstairs, and a copy of Shadow of the Wind rested on the kitchen counter while she cooked lunch. Frank Sinatra played on the old record player in the living room and the music continued to stretch around the house as we ate together. Luckily, her birthday party was keeping her busy; busy enough that she didn't remember to ask me about the dinner from last night.

Truth be told: I'm a terrible liar. I would never be able to escape her questions.

At the end of the day, I met Rocco for a workout, in a nearby gym. He was waiting for me, leaning against the reception counter, teal Puma t-shirt paired with an amused smirk; I knew he was more than ready to put me through my paces. And I was right. It only took me a couple of exercises to lay on the floor, panting and sweating."Have you thought about what you're doing next season?" I looked up, in the direction of the voice. Rocco was standing in front of me, holding my water bottle.

I sat up straight and extended my hand to grab it. "Not yet," the water was cold and refreshing. Just what I needed. "Maybe a third year in the Challenge and," I paused to breathe. "You know, the reserve seat. Not ideal, but yeah."

He frowned, sitting down on one of the plyo boxes near me. "But yeah?"

"Yeah. Works." I answered, laying back down on the green turf. The small fake grass ticklish on my legs and arms. "Not much, but it's racing."

"I think I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"Why? It's just how it is."

He cleared his throat, the deep sound making me open my eyes and stare at him again. "Up," he commanded, refusing to help me get up. I brought the hand I'd just held up to the floor, to help me get up.

"I thought we were done," I said. He didn't even need to say anything to make me understand that we were, in fact, not done. "Are you mad?"

“Annoyed,” he turned back to me. “What the heck was that answer? Of course, a third year in the Challenge and a reserve seat in WEC are not ideal. I was hoping for a real answer, not some… whatever that was.”

“It’s the reality,” I shrugged. Instead of turning back and going back to do whatever he was about to do, he just kept looking at me. Not the conversation I was hoping for today.

“You had a plan. What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing happened. I had a plan. And it’s going as it’s possible.”

"Excuses, Eva," Rocco exclaimed. He stepped forward and looked me in the eye. "You have a plan. You know what you want. And you have the talent."

“Congrats, you just solved gender inequality.” I gave him an ironic thumbs up, my mind still scrambled from the efforts of the workout and the encounter from last night. This kind of conversation was not what I wanted.

“You’re more than capable of getting a decent seat next year.”

“As we know,” I wiggled my finger between both of us, “It’s a tough path. Being capable won’t get me a seat. ”

“Locking yourself in an office keeping track of TikTok trends will?” I sent him a look. He held up his hands in defence. “You’re making excuses. There are other drivers fighting for the same things as you are and they are not taking no for an answer.”

“Neither am I.”

"Come on," he chortled, eying me carefully. I could tell that he wanted the best for me, but I was not really in the mood to discuss this at the moment. "When was the last time you actually planned something for yourself, and not just some new fashion designer or boujie vegan chef?"

I felt a little bit of annoyance creeping its way up my spine. I had been pushing myself so hard for the last few months, and I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with all the pressure.

“Can we focus on the races I have left to win?” I asked, my voice taking on an exasperated tone. “We can talk about this after I win this championship?”

“Sure.” He bent down to grab a 15 kg power bag from the floor and dropped it off at my feet. "This wasn't planned, but that self-pity is annoying me."

“A punishment?" I took my hands to my hips, a light chortle abandoning my lips. "Burpees and never-ending lounges? That's what you think I need right now?"

"No, no burpees," he said, his grin widening. "But maybe a few extra lounges wouldn't hurt." He was clearly enjoying this. I rolled my eyes and glanced down at the power bag in front of me.

“It was not—”

He cleared his throat, cutting me off, and I went silent. Then, looking at him, I saw that he was grinning at me once again, content. Yeah, it was self-pity. Yeah, the future is scary, especially when you’re a 25-year-old woman in motorsports and your career seems to be stuck.

I took a deep breath and bent over to pick up the bag, the cold weight of it dragging my body down to the ground. Rocco took a few steps back and then motioned me with his head to start.

"Andiamo," he said. “20 steps back and forth. Three series.”

So I did. I started lounging with the bag, back and forth across the green patch of turf on that side of the gym, trying to keep a steady pace. With each step, the pressure of the bag weighed me down. I kept going, pushing forward and gritting my teeth against the pain. When I finally reached the twentieth step, I dropped the bag and breathed out, my body aching from the effort.

By the end of the third series, I had pushed my body to its very limits and back. I sunk down onto the cool grass beneath me, feeling the relief of the softness beneath me—my muscles aching and my body dripping with sweat, my hair matted to my neck and temples.

Rocco sat near me, guiding me through a couple of moves, helping me to loosen my tight muscles and stretch out my body. Despite the big (and somewhat threatening) muscles he had a gentle touch.

“What’s on your mind?”

"Hm?" I frowned, my eyebrows furrowing together as I closed my eyes, feeling his hand pressing down on my thigh, pushing it firmly against the hard floor. I could feel the pain radiating through my body, but I tried to focus on the sensation of his grip.

“You always complain this hurts,” he said. I opened one eye. Now, I could feel the pressure from his grip. Probably something shifted on my face because he instantly asked, “Now it hurts?”

"It hurt before, I was just distracted." I shook my head, closing my eyes again and focusing on the sensation of his grip. “I’m free to feel like shit when things go badly." I let out.

“Things are not going badly,” he sighed, leaving my leg and switching to the other. “You’re simply letting yourself fall behind.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, my head falling back against the floor. I stayed there for a few moments, my heart pounding against my chest and my thoughts racing a million miles per hour. When I finally opened my eyes again, I looked up at Rocco, this time because I felt my thigh burning with discomfort, he was still looking at me, waiting for an answer.

"Too much." I glanced below while patting his arm. He raised an eyebrow, implying more pressure. "Ei!" I scrunched my nose. He just arched a brow. Sadistic fucker. “What? Are you going to hurt me until I hold someone at gunpoint and ask for a seat?”

“You talk like you don’t have good offers, Eva.”

“What is a good offer? Driving against 19-year-old boys in Formula 3? It’s humiliating.”

“W Series?” He suggested.

“I want to race with men and show people I can win against them.” I sat down. Rocco took his hands from my legs. My muscles tingled with the same intensity my thoughts did. “I like the Challenge because I’m showing them I can do it. But the team does not have a budget to race in other series. And I can’t be a reserve forever. So I can do another year and hope things change.”

“See? You’re choosing to fall behind.” He took a deep breath, understanding my frustration. "You can always look for sponsorship," he said, his eyes focused on the floor. "You have the talent, the connections—"

“I spent my teenage years sending letters and desperately trying to talk to people. You saw how that went.”

“You have results to show them, now. In two weeks you’ll have a championship.” I dragged my hands over my face. Instant regret. Both my hands and face were tingling with the same intensity my thoughts did. “W Series will give you exposure. Will give you points. You need points..”

“Why are you so interested now?” I arched an eyebrow, feeling a bit suspicious. “The year is long. Anything can happen. A lot can change.”

“I just don’t see you planning ahead.” He deadpanned, his expression unreadable. “What if you can’t do another season of the Challenge? Will you be content with just being a reserve in WEC?”

“Why so many ifs?” I asked, still feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Motorsports are unpredictable,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve been around long enough to know that. And I’m your coach, not just a trainer. It’s kinda my responsibility to do this.”

“Nah, I’m not having it.” I paused, still not entirely convinced. “Do you know something I don’t?”

Rocco just shook his head. The dark strands of his hair moved in unison. “Eva—” He shrugged. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. Whatever he was about to say, it seemed like it wasn't completely true. "One," he continued; his tone shifting. "I don't want to be left without a job when you get bored of racing." I threw my towel at him, though I knew he was only joking. Unfortunately, he dodged it. "Two," he continued, "you're racing like a pro. You should race with the pros."

At least, in one thing he was right. I was racing like a pro.

On the other hand, I was not acting like one.

My team and my dad, the main sponsor, were the only support I had. Despite having other offers, none met our expectations. I had been a third, fourth, or fifth driver for too long. I had spent too much time in the garage, running simulations, and taking part in test sessions. Years of it. Each of these experiences had demoralized me.

Racing in the Challenge, learning with my team, taking time to understand the car and driving it to a podium made sense to me. Standing in the garage and hoping for someone to get food poisoning or COVID was not only morally wrong but also quite dull.

“Did you make this whole drama when Rio told you he wanted to stop racing and just go to college and become an engineer?” I asked, getting up from the floor and picking up my towel, still lying on the ground.

“It was worse actually,” my trainer said, following me. “I think I almost killed him when he told me.”

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you do. Your poor father has his hands full with you two.” We stopped walking when we reached the locker room. “Go have a shower and get some rest.”

The second I reached my locker and opened the wooden door, I reached for my phone, looking for a message that hadn't arrived. Pathetic. A part of me considered taking the initiative and being the one to call or text him but, to be honest, what was left for me to say?

I had already told him everything by asking him not to kiss me and I might have told him even more by refusing to let go of him.

The office smelled of churros, so I knew Amanda was around. Either that or someone else had the same idea as her.

Familiar faces smiled back at me as I crossed the corridors and the work areas until I finally reached the common area and took one of the available seats. Since I had chosen to work remotely, and only visited the office casually for occasional meetings or when I needed a place where I could focus, I wasn't given an office.

The room was filled with the buzz of people chatting and the occasional laughter, making me feel a bit out of place. I knew most of them (read: I knew their names and which projects were under their purview), but rarely talked to any of them. Amanda, one of my friends from college, and the one who had introduced me to this agency was the only one I regularly talked with.

I sat down in my chair and pulled my laptop out of my bag. After talking with Rocco yesterday, I decided to take action on my career and spent last night looking at emails and reading my dad's notes on the sides of those he considered important enough to print. So, when I opened my laptop, my screen showed me my Notion board, which honestly felt like a showcase of my own failures. Not the first thing I wanted to see that morning.

A knock on the glass divider of the office made me lift my head up and find Amanda on the other side of it. A beautiful purple jumper highlighted her beautiful curves; her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. In her hands, a white box.

I waved at her.

“Vamos,” she motioned with her head. “Before anyone tries to steal these from me.”

I smiled and grabbed my laptop, zipping it up before getting up and walking towards her. “You know I have an important weekend ahead, right?”

She laughed, opening the box. “A churro won't weigh you down, don't worry.”

I took one of them and walked near her to the cafeteria. The morning light was soft, and the day was not too warm. Ideal to sit on the balcony and talk for a while. So, that's what we did. I grabbed coffee for both, while she walked outside.

The sunshine on my skin was just a slight warmth as I leaned on my chair, and the smooth breeze of the morning cooled off my skin. Traffic sounds in the background, the ruffle of chairs and the occasional bark of one of the dogs playing on the balcony of the start-up that shares the building with us.

While having a sip of her coffee, I noticed Amanda's eyes widening, and I could practically see the bell ringing in her mind. Instantly, my brows were drawn together. Brace yourself, Eva.

"So, I heard on Twitter dot com…" I rolled my eyes at the last part, and despite provoking a small chuckle from her, she didn't stop talking and her gaze still remained twinkling mischievously. "Carlos was in Mugello last weekend."

Oh, for fucks sake.

"If that's what Twitter says, it must be true."

"Yes. So," she paused. Her head tilted slightly, honestly looking like a pup who saw a threat in the distance. "Did you two talk?"

I shook my head; my fingers busy on the handle of my mug, desperately trying to seem unbothered by the question. "Nah, we didn't talk."

"You sure?" She asked, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, my voice steady. "It's not like we're friends or anything."

"That's too bad," she murmured, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "It's not like Carlos and your brother are still like, the best of friends and maybe— maybe he went there to visit him and you end up talking?"

I sighed. "Stop it."“You're a terrible liar, Eva.” Amanda said bluntly, her gaze intense.

“Amanda,” I said, my voice stern and my eyes piercing. "Stop it."

“So, you talked.” Amanda gave me a knowing look. "I knew it. I saw those tweets and I realised we had barely talked this week, and that only happens when you're too busy overthinking. And then boom, I woke up to dozens of notes made at 2 am? You always go to bed early." She crossed her arms, her gaze still intense. "Come on, just tell me what happened. If it’s not him, it’s anything else. That worries me too. I'm here for you, no judgement."

I sighed. "Fine," I said, setting my mug down and leaning back on the chair. "We talked. A lot. We actually had dinner."

Amanda's gaze softened, but then she frowned again. “Dinner? The three of you?”

“The two of us.”

"Just the two of you?" Amanda's eyes widened in surprise, lips smiling brightly. I nodded to her question. "What did you talk about?"

A part of me wanted to end it there. The other part of me needed some guidance. And Amanda was a friend, she always had good advice. On the downside, she loved to gossip. But we were friends. Guidance. But gossip.

I shrugged. “Just normal things. Racing.”

“Okaaaay, that’s good.” At this point, her lips were curving up like she was the one having dinner with him. I couldn’t decide if her reaction annoyed me or made me happy. "So, what now? Are you going to keep in contact with him?"

I shook my head. "I don't think the dinner changed anything.” Liar.

“Eva,” she propped her elbows on the table. “You’re a terrible liar. Spit it out. What happened? If you don’t want to talk about it, tell me that. Just don’t lie.”

Talking about it would make a big deal. A bigger deal, actually. I dragged my hands over my face, tired and confused. Thinking about it was challenging enough and I truly didn't want to transform all my confusion and emotions into words. Amanda, on the other hand, couldn't hide the fact that she wanted the truth, her gaze so strong it almost made me melt over the iron (and obnoxiously red) chair I was sitting on.

So I told her. Every single detail. From the glorious vision of him under the bright lights of my garage, which for a second made me feel like I was living in an alternate world, through the call at dawn, to his gauze under the beautiful sunset glow. His warm, velvety lips brushing against mine. I told her about the “I think I might have loved you, too”, and the way that even in my dreams I couldn’t seem to forget his scent when he hugged me goodbye.

I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, as I spilled my heart out onto that small table, and when I finished all I could hear was the sound of her sigh. A ridiculous rom-com kind of sigh.

“I just feel like we messed it up because of pure desperation,” I said, crossing one leg over the other and looking around. “He messed it up. I think we just missed each other so much we… I don’t know. Got confused on the feelings?”

“He messed up?”

“I didn’t kiss him back. I just asked him to please, don’t.” It was more ridiculous saying it out loud now than when I recalled the moment in my mind.

“You’re even stupider than I thought,” was her answer. I arched my brow. “The guy cooked for you, at his place, told you he “thinks he loved you too” and tries to kiss you and now you’re mad because he didn’t text you?” She paused. “What the hell will he say? Of course, he won’t text you. What would you say to someone after being denied a kiss? Text him yourself.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Why not? I asked myself the same question. Because I can’t trust him to stay. Better, because I can’t trust him to not leave. “Don’t be stubborn, come on. Just by looking at you, I know you’re dying to get that kiss.”

“Can’t we go back inside and talk about work?”

“Oh, no, missy.” She shook her head. “Those AB tests can wait. I want to talk about you and how you’re so dumb you might lose the chance of your life.”

“You’re exaggerating. As always.”

“Eva.” She was stern, her eyes burning on me. “He was your best friend. At least try to mend that friendship. Even if you don’t want anything else. Whatever the reason.”

I sighed, bowing my head in defeat. Amanda had a way of making me see sense, even when I didn't want to. "And if I can’t see him as a friend but still can’t give a step in the other direction?”

“Then, you give it time. Just don’t give it too much space.” She got up from her chair. Mug on one hand. The empty white box on the other. “Remember how that worked up last time.”

Fact one about Amanda: she was probably the most curious person I knew. Any arguments in the office, celebrity rumours or gossip of literally any kind she knew by heart, down to the last detail. And while that was remotely irritating, especially at exhausting times, like during Amber and Johnny’s trial, or when (especially when) the news broke about Pique and Shakira's divorce, it could also be a blessing. At least from my point of view. Perhaps all the stories contributed to her having a broader view of relationships and, as a result, being so good at giving advice. Fact two: there was no one more insistent than her, so, evidently, she couldn’t leave the office without reminding me to text him.

It was 5 pm, and I was utterly absorbed in the presentation for the new restaurant. I was head down, consumed by the details of culinary and marketing analytics, and, to tell the truth, my mind was so focused on this project that I couldn't really think of anything else.

Amanda was getting ready to leave. Jacquemus purse over her shoulder and a strong pink lipstick on the place where a less saturated one had been during the day.

“You stay?” She asked me.

“Aham,” I briefly made my eyes leave the screen to look at her. “I need to finish this. Next week I’ll be too busy.”

“You leaving for Italy on Monday?”

“Tuesday,” I corrected her, my eyes going back down to the laptop. “Don’t want to leave this to the last minute.”

“Okay. I’ll try to have a look at it before you leave. Also,” my eyes went up again. “Send the man a good luck text.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes at her. "He doesn't need my luck text.”

Amanda nodded, her eyes still twinkling mischievously. "Okay, send him a whatever text, then. An emoji. Like his Instagram story.”

“I’m afraid liking his story won’t work.” I leaned back on her office chair, which I had taken in the middle of the day when she needed to leave for a meeting and left me to use her small office.

“Text him, then. Anything. I wouldn’t let Carlos Sainz escape, but you do you, babes,” she shrugged, turning her back to me to walk to the door.“Enjoy the weekend. Besos!”

“Bye!”

I didn’t text him. Of course. In the same way, she was insistent, I was stubborn.

Actually, let me rephrase it.

I didn’t text him then.

Mid-afternoon, Rio had called inviting me to dinner, and when I asked about the kids, he told me he had booked a nanny, so they would stay home. It was either business or pleasure. I didn't need to ask; as soon as he mentioned my dad was invited, I knew we'd be discussing business. And after Rocco's worries last night, I knew it was partly my business, too.

My nerves were on edge as I prepared to leave the office. They only worsened as I neared the restaurant - a way too fancy place for a Friday dinner with the family.

Crossing the sidewalk, my heels clacking on the cement, my head spinning from the long hours in front of my laptop, and the anxiety building in my chest, I looked inside. My dad was seated at the end of the table, with an empty seat to his right - the seat I was supposed to take. Marjorie was already waving at me. Smiling politely to the man standing at the door, I said, "They're waiting for me." He nodded and let me enter.

My eyes drifted to their table, and I allowed myself a few seconds to study the mood. They were laughing, but my palms were still sweating as I settled in for what would surely be an uncomfortable conversation.

"Sorry, traffic," I said, punctuating my apology with a kiss on each of my parents' cheeks. "Am I too late?"

"No, no," my dad said, his voice warm and comforting. "Your brother was about to tell me something, but you just distracted him. Go ahead, Fabrizio."

I turned to him, curious.

"I'm sure we can wait a bit more. Just... after the food," he said.

"Why are you so nervous?" Marjorie asked, her violet fingernails softly laying over his arm in a gentle caress. "It's something good," she said to me. "Don't worry."

"Are you pregnant again?" my mom asked.

"No! No, no!" my sister-in-law responded quickly, her voice almost echoing in the room. Even Rio seemed surprised by her rapid response. "It's Rio's news. Not mine."

“After the food, then,” my father said.

“I hate it when I do that,” I muttered to my brother, grabbing the menu from the table and letting my eyes drift through the print. “You haven’t ordered yet, right?”

My dad shook his head. "We were waiting for you.”

I glanced at the menu one last time before setting it back down. My dad's hand called for a waiter and, after the young man left, the conversation resumed. As usual before any Grand Prix, the race weekend was the matter on the table and, that night specifically, Carlos' penalty was the urgent matter. Ferrari had the pace and Carlos had the skill, but as I sat there, hearing my brother and dad's input on how wise the choice had or hadn't been, my attention diverged to the DNF he had suffered in Austria, less than two weeks ago. Vivid images of the flames engulfing the car, the heartbreaking words on the radio, and the cheers that echoed through the crowd as his teammate stepped onto the top step filled my mind.

One feeling the glory, the other one consumed in ruin.

“Good luck out there this weekend.” "Don’t pull another Austria. That one was scary.”

Done. I’d texted him. For better or for worse, it was done. And I didn’t have time to put the phone back in the purse before it vibrated again in my hand.

“Thank you. I really need it.”

I checked the time.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m resting." "Listening to my teammate rant about food, but resting.”

“Why? Did you tell him about the cheese-less pasta you tried to feed me?” “If I expect Leclerc to teach you something is how to cook pasta."

"He’s a terrible cooker.” “I’m better learning it from you.”

"I’ll be sure to give you a lesson someday."

"I'll hold you to that."

  "What are you smiling about?" Marjorie asked, my attention immediately being grabbed from my screen to the table.

"Nothing, sorry," I said quickly, tucking my phone back into my purse. "Amanda just texted me about the work I was finishing.”

"Ah, Eva, if you put that effort into racing…" he said, as the waiter came back with our food. I tried to ignore him, especially because there was no use fighting back his comment.

Even with the food on the table and the anticipation to find out about Rio’s news tugging on my chest, the conversation didn’t go further from Formula 1. My dad, a lifelong Italian Ferrari fan and a very biased Carlos supporter was ranting over the lack of professionalism he was sensing from the team and how the choices they repeatedly made ruined not only the drivers but the prestige of the team. Nothing new. Rio and I have been listening to the same tirade for a long couple of years and nothing seemed to change, even after the amazing start to the season the team had.

“I had my reservations at first, but you could be a nice fit for the team, actually”, my dad said, pointing at Rio, with the knife he was using to cut his steak. Rio looked confused at him, and then, at me. “Have they given you an answer?”

What?

For a moment, I felt like I’d fallen on a different table, a completely different conversation. My gaze shifted from one to the other, confused by my father’s question.

“Who’s they?” I asked. Marjorie was biting her lip; her violet fingertips on my brother’s arm, once again.

“Ferrari,” my father responded, clearly stepping over my brother’s feet. Rio seemed bothered; clenched jaw, restless fingers that Marjorie tried to calm by positioning hers over. “Are those the news?” He asked him.

Rio nodded, his jaw unclenching and his lips transforming to a slight grin. "Yep. They offered me a job." He looked around the table, his gaze caught mine for a second but quickly left again. “I need to let them know my decision until Monza.”

“You applied for a job at Ferrari?” I asked. Honestly, I was so confused I couldn’t piece all the things together. “We’re doing so good at the Challenge, you could have waited for just one m—”

“Eva.” My dad interrupted me. The strong stern voice pulled my attention. The authority value of his words over the sweet comforting voice of the beginning of the dinner. The mood had definitely shifted “Wait? You’re the one that’s always urging the team to aim for higher heights.”

"Exactly. The team won't do that without Rio."

"But your brother will. And so will you." I tried to interject but with no success. He continued before I even had the chance to talk. "You can't possibly think your brother would stay with the team knowing he could have this huge opportunity."

"I didn't know about any opportunity." I was replying to my father, but my eyes were directed to Rio. "What about the team? And the Challenge?" I inquired.

"In less than two weeks, the championship will be over. I have no doubts you will win it. You're just losing time there," my father's tone was bothering me, but the fact that he was still cutting his steak as he talked was really aggravating my temper.

Rio, on the other hand, didn't react. His expression didn't even shift. He remained silent, eyes shifting between mine and dad's face. In his silence, though, he was telling me much more than he thought.

"This is not a formality," I said to my father. "Can you please look at me while you talk about our future?"

Finally, he put down his cutlery and remained silent for a few seconds. Deep blue eyes looked up at me, cold and serious.

"There's no future for you if you're afraid to take a serious step," he said finally. "I won't let your brother get stuck in the Challenge when I know he can do so much more. I won't let you make him fall behind because of you."

"Because of me?"

"Why else would he stay at the Challenge?" I stayed silent, feeling my fake sense of confidence being stripped away with the weight of my dad's question. The answer that my conscience gave me was selfish and I refused to say it out loud. I was afraid of staying alone, rather, I was afraid to see Rio flying solo in the higher aims I ambitioned for me and not being able to carry along. Only if he waited, we could jump up together. "Why would he choose anything less than Formula One?"

"So, you have it decided, then?" I asked Rio. "How did that even happen?"

His tongue crept in between his lips, eyes wandering on my face, afraid to reach my eyes. It was making me nervous. Not just because he was about to leave me, but because he didn't tell me about it, prior. My dad knew about it. He even thought that I knew about it. And like a lightning bulb lighting up on my head: Rocco knew it, too.

"It was proposed to me. The job. At Silverstone, a few weeks ago." Even though Rio was stuttering, and his words barely constructed a sentence, piece by piece it all fell together. "Apparently, Carlos talked to someone about you. About the Challenge. And he mentioned me, my results..." he explained. "Carlos invited me there for the Grand Prix and surprised me with an interview."

Why didn't it surprise me? Carlos. The “right time”, of course.

"Your results? Why hide this from me?” I asked, looking around the table. “Clearly, everyone else knows.”

“I wanted to tell you, but didn’t get the chance to do it.”

“But what?” I asked, half defeated, half annoyed. Angry, even. There was so much going on inside me, I couldn’t think straight. “You just said you had the interview in Silverstone. Weeks ago. You had plenty of opportunities.”

“I knew you would snap and react like this,” Rio tried to justify himself.

“Snap? I’m not—” I paused and took a deep breath. At this point, I was seething with anger. “I’m asking questions. I’m not… snapping.”

“You should be happy for me,” I would if I didn’t feel betrayed. “I know you well enough to know that you would react… badly to the news. Especially if you knew Carlos was involved**.**”

Even though his name was blinking on my head, in bold red letters, I tried to set apart his involvement in this story. So, I carried on,

“And you’re just going to do it? Leave the team, the whole project and ditch us? Without even consulting me?”

He shrugged. “I’m consulting you now.”

“This is not a consultation, Rio. Please.” A pause. “This is you telling me what you’re going to do, without even considering my opinion or the team that’s behind your great results.”

“Go ahead.” He made a gesture with his hand. “What’s your opinion, then? You are the one that’s always telling me to aim higher. This is my dream. Always has been.”

“What? Formula One? I thought your dream was to drive in Formula One. Or was that before you noticed you’re a shitty driver? Enlighten me.”

“Eva, enough,” the deep voice cut me off.

I felt like I was going to burst. I wanted to scream, to cry, to express my anger somehow. But my dad's stern gaze kept me in my place. I felt completely helpless and unheard.

“You’re being ridiculous,” said Rio, cutting through the silence. “Childish, even. Ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful? I’m not the one leaving.”

“Why does leaving need to be bad?” The question settled in for a second. “Grow a bit, and maybe you’ll get some good opportunities too.”

“Sure, maybe then my friends will get me jobs, too. Is that what you mean?”

“Enough.” My dad's fist hit the table, loud enough to silence us, but not to the point of attracting too much attention.

My gaze lingered on his clenched fist on the table. I nodded, forcing myself not to say anything else. I placed my napkin on the table and got up, making sure my chair wouldn’t make any noise when pushed back. Before turning around, I paused briefly, my gaze now resting on my brother. “Good luck with your new job.”

  *

  It didn't surprise me when I saw Carlos fly through the track the next day, setting amazing times in the qualifying session, despite the penalty waiting for him for the race. He was dancing with the car, tracing beautiful lines within the colourful ones Paul Ricard was known for. Carlos would start P19 the next day, only ahead of Magnussen, who also had a back-of-the-grid penalty.

I traded the interviews for a dip in the pool and lingered there for the remainder of the afternoon. Perhaps because I was not the best person to have around that day, my parents had left just before lunch and didn't get back until after dinner. Alone, with music echoing throughout the house and the crippling anxiety the events that week had provoked, I felt myself get lost in the doubts and uncertainties.

My phone rang when I was already getting ready for bed. On my nightstand, the name Carlos appeared over an old photo of both of us. Like I couldn't control it, I walked to the phone and sat on the bed. I let it ring a few times before picking it up.

“Hi,” he said. I just looked through the window, to the dark backyard. “No good luck text today?”

“Guess not.”

“And why's that?”

“Did you know Rio had an interview to work at Ferrari?”

“Yes...?” He paused. “Is that a problem?”

“Did you know he got a job offer?”

We both fell into a moment of silence. A long sigh stretched through the line. I closed my eyes, not sure what to expect from the conversation. The next time his voice was heard, it was more serious.

"Can we stop asking questions instead of answering them?"

"The timing is funny," I said. "Just that."

"What do you mean?"

"You coming to Mugello? Was that a coincidence?"

"Eva, what?" Carlos was silent for a few seconds. "Don't make this into a drama," he said. "Rio is talented and if he got a job offer it's because he earned it. The things are not remotely related."

"I'm not complaining about him getting the job."

"Then what are you complaining about?" Carlos asked.

"That it took you years to finally come back and talk to me and it happened just when he got a job in your team. Did you really want to talk to me or did he make you do that?"

"I didn't do it for him," Carlos said. "I did it because I wanted to see you."

"I wish I could believe you."

"And why don't you?"

"It's been three years. Coincidences don't just happen."

I could hear him breathe. Silence weighed down my chest. He wasn't denying it. He wasn't telling me why he was there, that night. "Can I see you this week?" He asked me, before a long sigh.

"No."

"I'll be in Maranello for a few days." I bit my lip, shaking my head to the void. "You'll be in Imola, right? I can go there—"

"I don't want to see you." I talked over him and then paused for a brief second. "Don't show up there, please. It's an important week and I don't really need more distractions."

“Eva, por favor.”

“Good luck tomorrow.”

I put my phone away and let myself sink into the bed, feeling nothing but the warmth of the comforters on my skin and the instant sense of security that came over me. I allowed my eyes to close and my mind to drift away, and before I knew it, a prayer for Carlos came into my thoughts.

I prayed for strength for both him and me, for us. I knew that, whether we were on or off the track, we would need to find a way to get through whatever was to come.

Next Chapter: 04.

Thank you for your support in the previous chapter! Carlos will become a more present character in the future. Pinky promise. Don't abandon me until that happens, please! <3

#tightrope #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #fanf1ction #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr

[alpydk]

Cabinet of Oddities (Part 15)

I just want to give a hug thanks to anyone who reads, likes, comments etc. Nana's story is a huge part of my life and getting to write it all has been an amazing experience that I'll be sad to see end. All of act 2 is currently written up but Act 3 is going to take me some time as I decide on the ending I best want for her. Again thank you, everyone <3 And if anyone is curious. Here are some screenshots to give you an idea of Nana and Thomas (Both were part of the DnD campaign.)

Ao3 link

Summary : She nodded and lowered her knees to be more open with him. “Long ago I felt-” She paused and Gale could feel her hand squeeze his as if she was seeking a type of solace. “When a person is in love, they say there is a warmth, a feeling of safety and longing. That feeling wasn’t there.” “A kiss does not necessarily have to mean love though, just as a hug certainly does not. Is that what you were expecting to feel?” He looked into her eyes. He had always been that of the hopeless romantic. As much as he wanted to believe his own words, he knew he was not the type to kiss without love, or at least potential love.

She woke up shouting a name. “Thomas!” The arms that wrapped around her didn’t bring comfort, only a feeling of being confined and she struggled against them as she fought her way from the nightmare. The tadpole seizing her moment of weakness shared the images that flooded her mind, the soldier in her arms, his skin enveloped in a cold sweat, his grey eyes closing forever, the pain in her heart as she held him to her chest sobbing that he shouldn’t leave her. 

She’d spent the night in Gale’s tent, the evening of poetry lasting considerably longer than either had intended. He had watched over her as she had fallen asleep on the cot wrapped in the softest blanket he owned. The way she’d curled up to sleep similar to how Tara did was something he found endearing and it was a long time before he’d been able to take his eyes off her. No, Gale. Now is certainly not the time to indulge in this type of consideration, not now that you know what you must do. When he heard her groan the first time he wasn’t sure if he had imagined it. It was only once he saw her tossing and turning, calling out in the cot that he reacted, putting his arms around her and holding her closely, stroking her hair, and whispering that she was safe, that he was there for her.

As the memory hit his thoughts, he finally understood the visions he had seen previously, the changeling holding the soldier. It was her and this man and he felt her desperation, her pleading with the gods to bring him back. Her actions made more sense to him now, her dislike of Mystra, her walls, and he tightened his grip upon her, holding her close, his fingers winding in her hair as she began to settle, the tears slowing their descent. “Shh, I’m here.”

She wiped her eyes and pulled herself slowly from his arms. He was hesitant to let her go but knew this was for the best. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while since that happened…” He could hear the shame in her voice.

“There is no need to apologise. We all have our own nightmares.” He thought of the orb, the dark corridor and the shadows that gnawed at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “No. I just- I want to forget.” 

He looked over at her. “That’s understandable, I won’t pressure you.” Seeing her in this state, all he wished was that he could hold her for longer, but too many times had he been pushed back. “I know you may be against this but in tough situations, people normally need a hug or to just be held, is there any reason you are so against it?”

Nana shuffled uncomfortably, trying to find a way out of his question. He’d seen the dream, he’d seen her holding someone so was it possible that it was he himself that was the problem? She was quiet as she answered. “I’ve never…” Her voice trailed out.

“You’ve never been held or you’ve never wanted to be held?” He seemed baffled by this situation. Nana was such an open person, she spoke, smiled, laughed, and was genuinely positive, yes he had noticed her aversion to touch, but to think that someone had gone all their life and never experienced something as simple as a hug seemed impossible to him. 

The tadpole writhed. “I’ve held someone, as you saw, but no… It’s hard to let people get close.” She felt the loss of Thomas and the more Gale looked at her, the more he saw her grow defensive, her knees folding up in front of her, her eyes looking away from him. “When you’re alone, it’s not really something that comes up.”

“Alone? And how long exactly had you been alone before our little misadventures?” Her silence was all the answer he needed. If he had believed that a year with only brief contact had been a long time, she had spent even longer with nobody by her side.

"Don’t look at me like that. There's been other people, when I was trading or when I adventured… There’s just not been a lot of touching, that’s all.” Nana composed herself, she wasn’t going to be made to feel shame over something that was her life. 

“But why precisely? Is it because…” He hesitated unsure if he should continue his line of enquiry. “Is it because you are a changeling?”

He could see her discomfort and he wished he had not asked. “Apologies Nana, I should not have been so tactless. You must understand though that all I wish is to help you, to get to know you.” He took her hand in his, showing he meant no harm. He could feel the warmth and when she didn’t move he felt a small wave of relief. 

Nana smiled, comforted by his apology. “No, no it’s fine. But no, it’s not because of that. I guess, I just don’t understand it. When you’ve grown up alone- Well, it doesn’t come naturally. Any touch becomes too much. It feels like all your skin is being shocked, and your mind is on fire. And after Thomas…” She paused, her face darkening as she willed away the memories. “It’s been getting easier though, with Astarion… with you.” She looked down at their fingers entwined with one another and Gale couldn’t help but see the way her eyes softened.

“Astarion? I guess I can understand that. He is quite direct with his advances.” He tried to quell the spark of jealousy. 

“When he kissed me I couldn’t go through with it.” Gale’s face fell upon hearing this and although he tried to be quick about hiding it, she had picked up on it. “It just felt wrong. Not the sensation, but like somehow I was being used in some way. Does that make sense?” 

“He kissed-” He took a deep breath pushing down the sudden irritation. “No, that’s not important at this minute. You rejected his advances I assume?”

She nodded and lowered her knees to be more open with him. “Long ago I felt-” She paused and Gale could feel her hand squeeze his as if she was seeking a type of solace. “When a person is in love, they say there is a warmth, a feeling of safety and longing. That feeling wasn’t there.”

“A kiss does not necessarily have to mean love though, just as a hug certainly does not. Is that what you were expecting to feel?” He looked into her eyes. He had always been that of the hopeless romantic. As much as he wanted to believe his own words, he knew he was not the type to kiss without love, or at least potential love.

She gazed back at him. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t expecting to feel fear though.”

“And, do you fear me?” He hoped that she would say no. That maybe this feeling could blossom, that all their unspoken feelings could be revealed and yet he was also nervous of her answer. That if she said no, it would be something else holding him to this mortal coil, someone else who would eventually realise he was not good enough. 

“No.” She turned her face to his, leaning her body into his chest, and he could feel the heat of her body against his robes. Slowly came the sensation of a soft hand resting on his cheek and he realised that maybe, just maybe, he was falling in love. 

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

As she felt the heat radiate from his body she pushed out the thoughts that tried to claim her. Is this really what you want? Is this the right time? He’s going to die. She found herself pushing herself into him, feeling the tenderness of his touch upon hers, the longing in her heart growing. Her body yearned for him and as she gazed into his deep brown eyes, she felt her tadpole connect with his. Just a single thought. Kiss me.

As his lips touched hers the world vanished, nothing but the sensation of the moment mattered. She felt his hand reach to the small of her back and she pulled her hips towards him instinctively. Could it really be this easy? Her tongue entwined with his and she could taste the subtle remnants of wine between them, a reminder of more than just a physical connection. Her hand moved from his cheek to behind his head, her fingers weaving with his hair. She wanted him, she wanted all she had missed out on, she wanted his love and to love him. She could focus on nothing other than him, her human form morphing to that of her natural changeling shape, her long red hair becoming short and white, her skin pale, her eyes colourless. 

Neither of them noticed as the tent flap opened and Astarion stood there in shock and bemusement. “Gale?”

Nana tore herself away quickly from Gale’s embrace, her eyes wide at Astarion as he tried to grasp what he was seeing. She didn’t know what to do. Now her secret was out, now they would all know, and now the hunt would begin. She pushed Gale aside and ran for the exit of the tent.

Astarion dodged out of the way as she ran past, confused at the image he was seeing. “Gale, what in the nine hells was that!?”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 screenshots #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #galemance #bg3 fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #dnd character #changeling #dont want this to end

[myers-meadow]

Sheriff of Nottingham x reader: Dream

Title: Dream

Pairing: Sheriff of Nottingham x Guy of Gisbourne's wife.

Wordcount: 551

Warnings: some angst and pining. Nothing about reader's appearance is mentioned, only that she's a woman.

Written as part of self-indulgent September, for the prompt 'dream'. This is not strictly a self-ship drabble, but I thought I'd publish it anyway :)). Hope you enjoy!

Divider by saradika.

Sheriff woke with a start. No tolling of the church bells, no yelling guards, no clatter of sword fighting, no crying women. The night was quiet and dark. Above his bed, to the left, was a small window and silver moonlight streamed in. The only sounds he heard were the blowing of the wind and the rustling of his sheets as threw them off to sit at the edge of his bed. The fireplace crackled in the corner of the room, keeping the room warm enough during the cold late summer nights.

He sighed deeply. Just a dream... Another dream of her. Another one with a bitter ending, one that left him with his chest heaving and the sheets soaked with sweat. Looking at the window, it was still before the end of first sleep, so he got up and stretched. Mortiana would advice him if he asked, but nothing could help with the feeling he was left with after a dream like this.

During it, the secret apple of his eye was struck down by a wayward arrow from one of his terribly incompetent men. He saw his cousin Guy scream, run to her, kneel down and sob as he held her, blood flowing down her dress onto the stone ground. And George could only sit and stare from atop his horse, not knowing what to do - until rage made it's way to the surface, and he brutally cut down that failure of a marksman.

He closed his eyes, reliving the dream as its fragments already split apart like a pane of glass breaking. If only his cousin would perish in battle, and he'd be the shoulder his widow came to cry on. He'd be so gentle with her, so sweet. He'd wrap her in a warmth she's not seen while being with Guy, show her a life she could have only dream of.

He knew how wrong it was, and more than that he felt shame, he knew that it could affect his reputatin. If he played his cards wrong, both would suffer the consequences of that. She deserved better than a messy start of their relationship. After all, that's all he dreamt of. Of ways he could give her the world. She'd be his queen. She'd enjoy luxuries beyond compare, as long as she'd remain by his side. He knew she would. He tried it, before her and Guy were married, he tried seducing her, but she only had eyes for his cousin.

Thinking of that time, how it was for him those years ago, set his temper ablaze yet again. The unfairness of it! He went to the fireplace, taking the poker and stabbed the logs restlessly, a deep frown in between his brows. How could she prefer Guy over him? That stupid good-for-nothing idiot! Guy just got to her first... Well, George is the one who would last. And once he's planned something to get rid of Guy, once it's all through, she'd be glad that place in his arms was still free. The fire roared, before calming down, and George stared at it, hoping the rest of his sleep would be dreamless. It's already enough for her to plague his waking hours and he'd need the rest if he wanted his plan to be foolproof.

#sheriff of nottingham x reader #sheriff of nottingham #george of nottingham #george of nottingham x reader #robin hood: prince of thieves #robin hood (1991)

[dre6ming]

The delicate beginning rush

Chapter VI ~ my darling

Masterlist

Chapter V ~ torn

Instagram photo dump masterlist

To be added to the tag list click here

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem singer/actress reader

Warning: age gap, mentions of poor mental health, depression, anxiety, mentions of abuse, talks of toxic relationships, divorce, fluff, angst, cursing. That’s all I hope :))

Plot: after a horrible article makes the headlines you find yourself back in a place where you judge your every move. Your crush on Austin only seems to grow as does your liking towards Joshua.

Word count: ~6500

Disclaimer: everything I write is fake. Except for the songs I mention.

I see it as soon as I wake up. The bad habit of waking up and checking my phone, giving my team no time to hide this from me. I stare at the screen of my phone with blurry eyes, the big red letters screaming at me.

"19 and taking hearts left and right"

The title reads and I could lie and say it's unexpected for a piece like this to be written, but it's not. I knew, I always did, but I guess I never anticipated how sharp and evil their words would be. Bringing up my parents divorce, saying dating is some coping mechanism, because they left me? Pulling up those pictures of me, balling my eyes out on the street. That day being one of the worst days of my life and they had the audacity to photograph it and now use it to justify my serial dating behavior? I know this is the price I pay for the job I chose, but sometimes the price feels higher than the reward.

With shaky hands I wipe my face, or try to, then turning my phone off I get up to go in the shower. The warm water engulfs me, my tears mixing with it. Each sob that shakes my body, makes my muscles contract painfully and I struggle to wash myself, as I feel like my legs might give out at any minute. I let out a scream so loud and sharp I scare myself and fall on the shower floor, clutching my head in my hands.

I need to get out, I need to breathe, I can't breathe. I'm stuck. I need out. I need...

Gathering up my strength, I get up, turning off the shower and ignoring the pain in my knees, which are sure to have bruises on them later. Using a warm towel to dry myself and then hurriedly putting on some clothes. Comfort being my goal I choose in oversized dark blue sweat suit. Staring at the clock, it's only 7:45 am, I woke up way too early, because of all the turmoil I faced in my sleep, caught between dreaming of Austin or Joshua. I'm supposed to be going to a fitting today, for the Oscars, also Jack expects me in the studio, but I can't. I don't want to see or talk to anyone right now. So I don't. My phone is turned off, it's too early for Matt to be here, my parents don't live here and don't care, it's easy for me to avoid people, so that's what I do.

Taking my bag, I make my way out of the apartment, after feeding Simba and William, no need for them to suffer just cause I do. Putting on sunglasses and hiding my hair as best as I can in a beanie, I walk out of the building, the cold air of the early morning hitting my cheeks. Behind my glasses my salty tears are still flowing. New York is busy as ever and I'm happy for it. The crowd occupied with whatever they have going on, so no one pays any attention to me, it's comforting, but I can't hope for it to last. I like to think about myself as one of those celebes who knows exactly how to work their private life, while keeping people entertained, I don't push fans away and I usually don't mind paparazzi, but then again, I wasn't an Oscar nominee before, nor was I lunching with famous men. I'm growing with my career and I arouse more excitement now I guess.

I'm walking like a crazy person, almost running, my feet carry me unconsciously down the street. Looking down at the watch on my wrist I see it's now 8:15am if I keep at this pace I'll be at the Chanel studio in about an hour, sure I'll be all sweaty and gross, but I don't care, at least I'm showing up. Showing up is the best I can do now. I try not to think about how everyone must be freaking out right now, calling my phone. By now Matt probably got to the apartment and is frantically searching for me, scared something bad might have happened.

I sigh annoyed that I didn't think to take time and text him that I'll go to the fitting by myself. I hate worrying people, but then again that's not healthy, because I often think if the worse were to come and that dark part of my brain took over, then I'd fail all of them, but I should be thinking about failing myself. It's my life and it has very little meaning to me, all I care is to be here for the people that I know care and my therapist has been struggling to drill into my brain that I should stop thinking of others and how my life affects them, but rather about myself and how I affect myself. Easier said than done. Guess I'll have to squeeze a session in today or tomorrow morning, because I know I'm not ok and I would like to know why. Because I can't accept the fact that, that article has me twisted like this, it has to be something more as well. It's not fair for my brain to fail me like this.

Lost in the spiral of my mind, I don't even acknowledge I got to my destination, until I'm looking up at the tall glass building. When I walk in I see Levis, coming out of the elevator, talking on the phone, worried, but when his eyes meet mine he visibly relaxes, murmuring some words into the phone and ending the call. "(Y/n), what the hell? Matt was frenetic, what happened?" I roll my eyes at him and go past him, to get inside the elevator, but he grabs my arm and keeps me in place. "Sweet pea, tell me? You know you're like my daughter, what's wrong?" I only shake my head, not really willing to talk about what's got me so twisted. With a defeated sigh, he understands and let's me go. I'm silent for the elevator ride and for most part of the fitting, only making the effort to talk when really necessary.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the tall mirrors and I have to force myself not to gasp. I look so tired. If Timmy or Roxanne would see me right now they would freak out and maybe they should. Sighing I turn around and show the stylist where I want modifications to be made. The whole process goes by in a haze, I'm not really here, my body is, but my mind?.... Well definitely somewhere else.

All that keeps going through my mind is : Are they right? Am I playing? But then again I know the truth, I know Austin is just a friend and so is Joshua. Sure I wrote Austin a whole song about wishing on dandelions for his love, but he's still just a friend. Ugh god I sound crazy, maybe I am. "So what do you think?" One of the stylists asks me, but I'm unable to actually formulate an opinion, so I smile and nod. I like it, do I think it's amazing? Not really. Does it age me a decade? Yes. But I do look beautiful and professional in the dark blue plaid pants, that are so wide legged they look like a skirt and the halter top white shirt, completes the look nicely. "Yeah, you can't go wrong with a classic!" I mutter and they go on to take the measurements needed for further alterations.

Happy to be out of playing dress up, I sink into the seat of the car, burying myself in the huge sweater I have on. Matt doesn't look at me, he just greets me politely as always. I know I scared him, disappearing like that on him. I don't think anyone on the outside could really understand how much the people working around me are like family to me, so them worrying for me is beyond a professional care.

I'm feeling a bit better now, but definitely not ready to go and finish 'Dandelions', Austin's song can wait. Instead I think I'll try to bring him a song I started a while ago.

I greet Jack with a tight hug and go to sit down at the piano. "So I've been thinking, about a lot lately, all these fittings and photo shoots, they have me hyper fixing on things." Jack listens as I play the piano, "Ok, so are we talking-" "Body image" he nods, closing his eyes to listen to the soft melody I'm playing. "She just want to be, beautiful" I sing "She goes, unnoticed she knows, no limits" I sigh and keep playing struggling to keep my voice steady. "She prays to be, sculpted by the sculptor." The rhythm of the song picks up now and Jack goes over to his computer snapping his fingers to the melody, adding it over the piano. "Oh she don't see, the light that's shining. Deeper then the eyes can find it. Maybe she's blind?" I shake my head. "Maybe we have made her blind?" He suggests and I sing it that way.

"So to all the girls that's hurting, let me be your mirror, help you see a little be clearer" I write that verse down, smiling at the almost complete song, for hours now we've been throwing lines at each other. I usually write my songs alone, but this felt right to be done like this, I trust him to know exactly what I want to say. "That's beautiful, I'm thinking for the end we can have you and a choir sing and you could be saying 'No better you than the you that you are, No better life than the life we're living' , but right at the end we quiet down the music and you go with the chorus again one last time, on your own" I like that idea, putting on the headphones and going to sing into the mic.

We get most of the song done, but we have to see about that choir and we still have a lot in production to do, but I'm confident, "Scars to your beautiful" will be a song able to touch many people, not just girls, because we unfortunately live in a society where molds and labels are frequently used. I haven't always been the kindest to myself, my body, my craft, my mind. I'm my worts critic, but that's normal, my therapist says. I didn't expect this morning to go in the studio with one line that came to me in a flash and from there to build a whole song. I kind of wanted to finish "Idontwanttobeyouanymore" , but I think I'll keep that for my sessions with Finneas, it feels like a song for him, maybe I could ask Billie to feature and do vocals? I write that idea down in my journal and closing it, I discard it in my bag, occupying myself with looking out the window at the fast moving city as Matt drives me back home.

When I get to my apartment everything is the same as I left it. I hate it. I used to come back home and mom would've cooked something, or cleaned something, maybe dad had built some new furniture or he was loudly watching tv in the kitchen, or they were both on the balcony smoking. I miss them, but then I remember those were the good simple times I missed. They're divorce was long coming, just like that source for the magazine said. My parents had a toxic relationship and they used to hurt each other a lot and me as well. They were also codependent on each other, so it took a lot of pushing for my mom to finally file for divorce. My dad, a smart manipulative man, who loves me truly, but who holds no respect for my mother, had his claws deep into her and he was abusive towards her, both verbally and physically, though the latter was not as often. As you can see it's safe to assume my dad blames me for the divorce, but so does my mom. They think I'm spoiled and unrealistic, living in a fake world with an imaginary career.

I pick up my phone from where I left it on my bed and turn it on, notifications flooding my screen. I delete the unimportant ones, reply to some emails and text back a few people, leaving the best for last. I open the group chat with Timmy and Roxanne, reading over their texts, they were both going crazy over my ghosting of them. With a shaky breath I start tipping.

Me:

Sorry guys, was busy in the studio. Had an early fitting for the Oscars as well

RoxiBear🐻:

Girl you had us worried. Everything ok? I saw that garbage article.

Me:

Yeah I'm ok, I guess. I don't know.

Timmy💝:

Don't lie!

Me:

I don't know what you want to hear. None of what they said was true.

RoxiBear🐻:

I'm with Tim on this one, don't lie.

Me:

Idk what to say. Yeah I was alone w/ Austin and then w/ Joshua, but nothing happened. I don't think

Timmy💝:

You don't think?

RoxiBear🐻:

What does that mean?

Sighing I decide this is too much to be carried over text, so I FaceTime them. They both answer in an instant, Timmy seeming tired, already lying in bed and Roxanne waiting at the airport for her flight home. "So I took Austin out, to show him New York, but that was that. I'm not making moves on him" I roll my eyes at the stupid assumption. "And with Joshua, I think it was a date? He did give me this, that was true" I lift up my right hand and they gasp at the sight of the bracelet. "Definitely a date, girl and that looks so gorgeous, it's your style" Roxanne says, and Tim is quick to chime in. "Yeah I can confirm the dude likes you, he skipped flowers and went straight to the rocks." I laugh, brushing a hand through my hair. "I guess what bothered me most was them using those pictures of me and saying that I'm doing this because of the divorce, it's just. If I wanted it discussed over media I would've streamed it." They laugh a bit at that, but return to their serious demeanors. "Hon' I wish I was there to hug you!" Timmy says, sticking out his bottom lip. "I will, in a few hours, I'm taking my Uber straight to your place, so let the front desk know I'm coming." Roxanne says, before she drops her phone, making us all giggle. "Shit, gotta go, how can I be at the airport early and still get late on my flight, fuck me! Bye, love you!" She waves quickly, ending the call, leaving just me and Timmy.

His knowing eyes watch me through the screen, but I know I have to cut this short, the dark circles under both of our eyes, prove that we need more sleep. "I hate to cut this short- " he breaks to yawn and as on cue I do the same. "-but I have early call time tomorrow. I just want you to know, that I'm with you no matter who you want?" This makes the hair on the back of my neck stick up. "What?" I ask almost scared of the answer. "Sweet dumpling, yesterday when we talked you had this light in your voice, now call me crazy and tell me that I'm wrong, but I do think that hanging out with Austin did it or maybe it was the anticipation of the date with Joshua? I don't know, but sis, you sounded alive, for the first time in months. So, and I know Roxi, would agree, have your fun, turn a blind eye to all the gossip. Dating isn't bad, neither is making new friends, so whichever you decide Austin and Joshua are, I think you shouldn't overthink it." Smiling at him I dry my now damp cheeks, I don't know why I'm surprised he said these things, he's always been there and he's never judged me just like never judged him. "But I don't even know, what this is? Not Austin, not Joshua. I'm just, I don't understand. I've never-"

I can't find the right words to say, the matter is still very new and unknown to me. I think I like Austin, I mean there's definitely a lot to like, but then there are those things that should stop me, like the age gap and the girlfriend, doesn't matter that the relationship is fake, it still exists. And then there's Joshua, didn't write a song for him and I barely spoke to him, but he's sweet and does make my heart beat faster. Ugh I don't know what this is. Am I living a teenage drama show? Am I in a love triangle? No, I'm not, cause I'm not sure either of them like me the way I like them. "(Y/n)?! Still there?" Timmy waved his hand in front of the camera and I blink to bring myself back to this reality. "Yeah, no I'm here, I'm just..." letting the words fly in the air, I watch as Timmy looks at me a little worried. "Sweet sœr, I hope you know Matt called me, I was scared. Are you having those thoughts again?"

I look away, shy about my past, but knowing full well I have no reason to be, I look back at him. He's talking about the thoughts that inspired "everything I wanted". Back before the divorce, when I was still filming for Reconstructing Amelia, I was slowly sliding in a dark place, being in constant conflict with my parents, feeling alone, useless, stupid, meaningless. My life meant little to nothing to me back then, I had gotten so wrapped up in those dark corners of my mind, I don't know that I actually ever thought of doing anything to myself, but I was definitely thinking that if something bad were to happen I'd be ok with it. I made myself think it's ok to feel like that, but it's not, no matter what, your life should mean something to you. I am now in a stable place, my life means something to me, not much more than it used to, I'm still working on it, it's a long process. "No, double B, I'm not, I'm just tired and sick of everything. I wrote a beautiful song today, but you should sleep now, you look tired."

A smile creeps up on his lips, his white shiny teeth showing up. "Please tell me if that changes, I'll be there in a second." Shaking my head, I wipe some of my tears away. "I will, sleep well, sweet dreams!" We wave at each other and then end the call. I sigh throwing my phone on the bed and splay on top of the sheets, starting at the ceiling. With my eyes closed I can once again take myself back to that night, when we danced, drunk or red Shiraz wine, swaying to the sound of 'Are you lonesome tonight'. Humming to myself, I get up and change into my purple silk pajamas. Lost in thought I almost miss the phone buzzing. Answering the call without looking who it is first. As I pick it up and look at the screen, the fact that is yet another FaceTime call is obvious and mess of blonde hair is showing up on the screen.

"Hey there!" The breath gets caught in the back of my throat as I lock eyes with Austin through the screen. "Austin..." he chuckles at my dumbfounded face, almost like him FaceTiming me out of the blue is just as normal as drinking water. "Yeah, I just wanted to see how you were? Been thinking of you and I read that pice of shit of an article. I wanted to make sure you're fine" I'm still a bit confused about this whole interaction, not really sure if it's real or if sometime between talking to Timmy and changing I fell asleep, so now this is all a dream. A beautiful dream. I also try not to read too much into him saying he's been thinking of me. "(Y/n)?" Austin's voice grows concerned as I seem to be just a frozen image on his screen, unmoving and definitely not breathing.

Shaking myself up, I push some of my hair behind my ears. "Sorry, yeah, no. I'm, well, you know , right, I'm -" I'm fucking rambling nonsense. He licks his lips, catching the bottom one with his top teeth, the flesh turning white, as it's released from the tight bite. I swallow thickly, trying to gather myself up. Taking a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm tired. The article, was-" I pause searching for the right thoughts. "A misogynistic piece of shit." He finishes for me making me giggle. "Yes, that exactly." He seems to be happy that he's managed to make me smile, a pleased look on his face. "Busy day?" He asks and I nod.

"Fitting for the Oscars, then I was in the studio until a few hours ago." Austin hums low, that sound vibrating through me like electric current. "Anything I can hear?" The question catches me a bit off guard. "I get it if I have to wait with the rest till the album is complete and out, but I like hearing you sing." And this right here is what I meant when I said, I liked the way he played his game, because he's a master at making me fold. The blush that rose into my cheeks, a scarlet shade, painting my skin. "Wait here!" He laughs as I prop my phone up on my pillows and jump off the bed, to run into the living room and get my guitar.

"Ok, I'm back" I say jumping on the mattress, placing the guitar in my lap. "I can see!" He snickers, making me blush one more time. The soft pads of my fingers, brush the rough strings of the guitar, the simple cord progression filling the room with a beautiful slow sound. "Ok so this song is not done. I'm waiting for Finneas to come to New York next week and finish it." Austin nods, turning over in bed to lay on his side, one hand tucked under his head. Sleepy blue eyes staring at me. "Don't be that way, fall apart twice a day, I just wish you could feel what you say" I sing, harmonizing the words. "Show never tell, but I know you too well, Got a mood that you wish you could sell." Sighing I keep going, preparing myself for the dark and twisted chorus. "If teardrops could be bottled, there'd be swimming pools filled by models. Told a tight dress is what makes you... a whore" closing my eyes, I push back my feelings. "If 'I love you' was a promise, would you break it if you're honest? Tell the mirror what you know she's heard before"

"I don't want to be you anymore..." this is how far I've gotten to writing this one. Opening my eyes again, I look at Austin, but I'm not able to read anything about what he's thinking. "That was so beautiful." A relieved sound escapes my lips and I lick them before talking again. "Thank you, it's not really about runway models, I meant models, like, the people you look up to." He nods "Yeah I get that's it's about the pressure you're under when you're supposed to be some example for the world" blinking stupidly at him, I feel the kick of my heart against my chest, like a punch coming from the inside.

Placing my right hand on top of my heart, I massage slow circles into the muscles there, over my silk top. I see something in Austin's eyes change and if I didn't know any better I'd say it's jealousy? But that can't be it.

Looking down at the place where my hand rests on my chest, you can clearly see the bracelet Joshua gave me, but that upsetting him makes little to no sense, he clears his throat before speaking. "Did I get it right?" He asks, a tint of knowing in his tone. With a big smile on my face, I nod. Austin seems fairly pleased with getting the meaning of my song right.

In the silence that falls between us for a few seconds, my stomach growls and I pray he didn't hear it, but he did. "Did you eat today?" He asks and I try to hide my face in my shoulder, knowing how red it must be. It's embarrassing for my body to betray me like this. "No, I didn't have time" he sits up on his bed, ruffing up his curly hair. God how soft it look, I wish I could touch it.

"Go eat, it's not healthy to not eat." Sighing I look at my lap, running a list of everything I have in my fridge. There's plenty of food, but none of it sounds appetizing and I'd have to cook it, which I hate. "I'm not that hungry." As I say that, my stomach makes a point to growl again. "I think your body betrays you here." He says giggling. The sound of his soft laugh, bringing a smile to my face. "I'd have to cook, not my forte, I'll eat tomorrow." I try to reason, but it's clear he won't have it.

Austin stands up from his bed, confusing me a bit about where this is going. "Well I'm hungry as well, so why do we cook together?" He raises a brown at me, biting his lip in waiting for an answer, but he's already up and walking to his kitchen. I laugh and also drag myself off of the bed, to make my way into the kitchen. "Ok I'll trust you." He smiles from ear to ear, walking quickly through his house.

When the both of us are in the kitchen, I place my phone down, prompting it up on the counter against a jar of cat treats. "Let's make French toast? It's not hard." I shake my head before he gets a chance to defend the choice of food. "Ok not that, let's see..." he looks through his fridge and pulls out a cartoon of eggs. "Scrambled eggs?" Austin questions. "Yeah, that we can make." I say, going over to my fridge to get everything out.

After I lay everything out in front of me, looking at Austin expecting, waiting for me to tell me what to do, even though I actually know how to make eggs. "Ok put the pan on the stove, medium heat" I do as he says, following his steps, like I've never done this before, hoping he won't see through my little lie. "After it's warmed up, add butter and crack the eggs in it." Carefully I add butter into the pan and swirl it around to coat it evenly, then I crack two eggs and discard of their shells into the bin. "Good girl" I get goosebumps all over and it's a good thing I have my back to the phone cause I know that if he were to see my face right now, he'd catch me and my little crush. "Use the spatula to mix the eggs in the pan and break them into smaller pieces."

With a shaky hand I grab the spatula and do as instructed, staring into the pan, like it'll give me an answer, like those eggs would arrange themselves into a sentence and say: you're not dreaming, he likes you too. Suddenly I feel an itch all over my skin, like I miss something and when I realize what it is, it hits me like a train. Because it's his touch. I miss him. The way he swayed with me in my living room, like we had no worry in the world. "Show me." Austin demands and in a robotic stance I take the phone and turn the camera towards the pan. "You're a natural, add salt and pepper." I put the phone down, adding the seasoning as he said.

After a few minutes our virtual cooking class ends and we are sitting each at our table, in different states, looking at each other through a phone. "So when are you coming to LA for the Verity interview?" He asks eating some food. Putting some food into my mouth as well and chewing it carefully, I skim through my schedule into my brain. "Hm so today it the 28th, Oscars are on March 12th, I should be there on the 15th" I nod double confirming the information I just gave. "You'll have to come over, have dinner, I'll make you pizza in my stone oven, I bought this house especially for it, my ex's had one and in the beginning of quarantine I got addicted to it."

"Yeah I know, you told me you once cooked 20 pizzas in a day." I interrupt and he laughs drinking some water, leaving me staring at his Adam's apple moving up and down. "Yeah I guess I did, so are you coming?" Eating some more food into, I try not to seems so desperate about seeing him, so I struggle to be casual. "Sure, I will." Austin seems happy with the answer. "Great it's settled, I promise you, I'll cook you the best pizza you've ever had."

"Could you actually teach me how to make it? You're a good teacher." I ask. Austin seems a bit surprised at my request, but a wide smirk quickly appears on his face as he scratches his chin. " 'Course I'll teach you, we'll make it all, from the dough to the very end" I raise my brows at him, shocked at the extent of his love for cooking. "Hm ok then it's only fair I find something to teach you." I get up from the table and move over to the sink to rinse the plate and pan and put them into the dishwasher, cleaning after myself. "How about crochet?" He suggests, the fact that he remembered it is a hobby of mine, making my heart skip a beat. "Sure, I'll do it." I say drying my hands on a towel, folding it and placing it back in its place afterwards.

Taking the phone in hand and walking back into my room, I plop down onto the bed. "Was that a twilight poster I just saw?" Austin asks, a deep color flushing my cheeks. "Maybe" I bite my lip to stop my smile from getting too big and turn the camera around to show him my poster wall. "Wow, marvel, Disney, twilight, lady Gaga, Madonna, you've got all the goods." Austin's amazed tone makes me laugh. "Well what can I say, I like the things I like and I love posters, let me show you this one." I get up and take him over to the opposite wall to show him the huge poster I have of Elvis singing dressed in the leather suit, for the '68 comeback show. "I have that suit." Turning the camera quickly around so he could see my surprised face, I search his face for a hint that this is a lie, no way he just casually confessed to stealing such a piece.

"I'll show it to you when you come over, I have the movie replica of course, but still, it's beautiful." His raspy voice sounds so angelic, I could listen to it nonstop. "I can't wait for you to show me." I say jumping back on the bed. "You didn't show me your room, when I was over Saturday." Austin points out, pouting like a little child. "It escaped my mind, I guess" I try to play it cool, but he can probably see right through me, as he laughs. "I'm sure it did." A wide smirk stretching on his face.

I turn on my side in bed and put the phone down on some pillows, so he can see me without me having to hold the phone up. "So how about you, any interesting work in the future?" He shakes his head rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. "Not for the moment, just press, but then I start working on Dune 2, in late August, so I guess that one will be exciting." I knew that, Timmy told me he was casted for a role in that movie, but I try to hide the fact that that was already known information for me. "Hm means you'll get to know Tim plenty." I conclude. "Yeah, I guess I will. Though I'm not sure he likes me, that much." I shrug my shoulders, knowing that's only half true. "It's my fault though, I kind of, you know"

"Dated his ex?" I finish for him, as he nods. Austin's lips stretch out in a thin line, he seems fairly embarrassed by the fact that I knew about him and Lily-Rose. "Well Timmy will get over it." Relieved he lets out a breath that gets caught in his lungs midway, following my next words. "If you are on your best behavior" I push my lips together trying to hold my laughter in, but failing miserably as a fit of laughter shakes my body and he follows suit joining me. "Your laughter is so beautiful." I stop laughing and look at him wide eyed, he seems just as surprised as me, that those words came out of his mouth. Austin moves his mouth open and closed like he's trying to say something, but nothing comes out and I'm holding my breath, scared that if I were to breathe right now, this whole moment would vanish. "Thank you." I whisper, placing the backs of my hands on my cheeks, feeling how hot the flesh is burning.

Neither of us knows how to move on from what just happened, but we have to bounce back. He has a girlfriend and I'm, well, I guess I'm just me. William jumps up on the bed and comes to snuggle close to me, getting in the camera view. A wide grin shows up on my face as I pet the cats fur and it immediately starts purring. "Hey there good boy." Austin says, as William turns his small head towards my phone, sniffing at the screen, before burying his face in my neck, making me giggle at feeling of his wet nose against my warm skin. "He likes me" Austin states proudly, smiling from ear to ear. Just then a yawn goes past my lips and in true lady fashion I cover my mouth with my hand.

"You're tired and I'm keeping you up." He says sounding disappointed. It's then that I look at the time and see it's now almost midnight, means I should probably get back to sleep as I have yet another early morning tomorrow. "It's fine-" "Oh god I'm so stupid, it must be midnight in New York right now, I'm so sorry." He interrupts me, apologizing for not taking into account the three hours difference. The way he seems so upset with himself, raises a new feeling within me, again a very unknown, very warm feeling, indescribable by all means. "You should be sleeping" now Austin's voice sounds almost scolding, like he's somewhat directing the loosing track of time on me as well. I feel small and bring my knees up to my chest, caging William in between my torso and legs. "I'm sorry, it's my fault, I should have thought about time difference." Austin sighs, dragging a hand over his face. "I just, I don't know, I got home and picked up the phone, calling without thinking."

"It's ok Austin, no harm was done, plus if it weren't for you, I probably would've gone to sleep without eating." The features on his face don't soften, if anything they grow more stern. "I'll take that win, but you should know that's not ok, you should be eating!" He seems to be slowly relaxing and coming back to his jovial stance. "Anyway guess it's time I let you sleep. Sweet dreams, my darling!" He puts three fingers up to his lips, kissing then and blowing the kiss to me. My heart starts racing and my cheeks flush a deep burgundy color. "Goodnight Austin!" I say and end the call with a small wave.

After the call is ended, I shift on my back and hold the device close to my heart. "My darling" I whisper, as if the words were a sacred spell. He called me darling and he called me his. The ceiling is spinning and I feel light headed. I can feel the irregular thud of my heart against my breast bone and I struggle to get my breathing back to normal. I feel like I'm flying. Is this how having a crush feels like? Like you're drunk? Not that I've ever been drunk, but I've been tipsy in the past and it feels like that, only stronger.

Closing my eyes I dive back into my memory of his soft lips against my cheek, the way it felt as the little wet spot left behind dried. I go back to his flaming hands on my waist, missing the weight of them. I remember the way my cheek rested so perfectly against his chest as he held me close, like we were two puzzle pieces, designed to fit together.

I'm woken up from all my dreaming as the phone vibrates against my chest, my excitement picking up, thinking it might be Austin. The notification is not from him, but it still has the power to get me to blush even harder, if that were possible. Joshua's name shines on the screen and I open the text.

🎶Joshua🎶:

Hi, sorry for not calling today as I promised and sorry for the late hour, I just got back to my hotel from a gig.

Me:

No worries, I don't mind the hour.

🎶Joshua🎶:

Let me make it up to you. Are you free tomorrow?

Me:

Sure, I think I can manage some free time around noon.

🎶Joshua🎶:

Perfect, how about a walk in Central Park?

Me:

That's my favorite place in the city.

🎶Joshua🎶:

Ha lucky me, seems like I guessed right and you'll be sharing that secret place with me after all. I count on you for a tour💟

Me:

You've got it. Good guess by the way. Hope your gig went well. Did you have fun?

🎶Joshua🎶:

Yes!!! it was amazing, I love playing in front of my fans. I have another one Thursday night, you should come.

Me:

Hmm 🤔 sure I'll be there.

🎶Joshua🎶:

Ok I'll sing my best! I should let you sleep now. Have a nice sleep, honey💟

Me:

I'm 100% sure you'll do great. Get some sleep as well, it's late. Gn💟

I lock my phone and place it on my nightstand, trying the relax enough, so that I could get some well deserved sleep, but I'm wide awake. Wide awake thinking of how my mind keeps circling back to every pet name Austin and Joshua use with me, struggling to convince myself they are just verbal ticks and not a real signs of affection.

Pushing my face harder against the pillows, I count my breaths, slowly coming down to sleep. But before I fall into complete darkness a flash of color splashes in front of my eyes, it's blue, a shiny Egyptian blue - his eyes.

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[seriouslysam8]

Is there any chance we can get a sneak peak at Bête Noire? Even a little one? Please?

Gosh, I haven't written to that story in forever. It's a shame because there are only two chapters left. I think I just got behind with Brumous and shoved it onto the back burner. Looking at my word document, it's probably just under halfway done. That's so sad. I really need to work on it.

Anyway, he's a sneak peek of the unedited next chapter.

Sirius woke up in a panic, his limbs tense and his arms jerking to see if he could move them. It took him a few moments to realize he was at the Potters. Had been for the past couple of days. His heart thumped in his chest. Sweat clung to his skin. He ran his fingers through his wet hair, trying to regulate his breathing. When he couldn’t, he shoved the covers off him and eased out of bed. 

As quietly as he could, keeping close to the walls, Sirius made his way downstairs and towards the back of the house. His gaze caught sight of the clock in the kitchen. It was a quarter to five in the morning. Fleamont would be up soon. He was always an early riser. 

Sirius exited the house, stepping onto the deck. The wood was icy under his bare feet, his body instantly cooling in the bitter December air. Tilting his head back, Sirius stared up at the dark sky as his limbs tensed. His gaze immediately focused on the Andromeda constellation. A dry sob escaped his lips. From what he knew, nothing terrible had happened to Andromeda when she had been kicked out of the house. There was no massive breaking point. She had just loved a Muggleborn and told to leave. 

Sirius licked his bottom lip. He refused to look away, wondering if he should tell Andromeda what had happened. It was hard enough to have the Potters see him in dirty and ripped robes smelling like piss and vomit. But they hadn’t flinched. They hugged him even. Honestly, he knew he shouldn’t have even been surprised that they had accepted him with open arms but Sirius knew the state that he had been in. 

An owl swooped through the sky. Sirius didn’t recognize it. It didn’t look like Hydra nor did it look like the Daily Prophet owls. The tawny owl stopped on the railing in front of him. Sirius took a few steps forward, his toes curling due to the cold. He could see his name written on the parchment in unfamiliar handwriting. 

His breath came out in harsh huffs as he untied the letter. His hand shook for reasons he didn’t know. He shouldn’t be petrified of a letter, but he had no idea who it was from. What if the Potters were in trouble for taking him in? What if it was someone in the Black family?

“Sirius?”

Sirius whipped around to see Fleamont standing in the doorway in his dressing gown and slippers. Two cups of steaming coffee in either hand. Fleamont preferred black coffee to start his morning and liked ending his day with a calming plain tea. 

“You’ll freeze, son,” Fleamont said, extending a mug to him. “Come keep me company.”

Sirius nodded, numbly following Fleamont back into the house. He sat down at the kitchen table, clutching the letter in his hand, as he shivered. Fleamont sat the cup in front of Sirius before he tapped his wand on Sirius’ shoulders. Warmth flooded his body. Fleamont shrugged off his dressing gown and placed it around Sirius’ shoulders. 

“Who’s the letter from?” Fleamont asked, taking a seat across from Sirius. 

Sirius swallowed. “I don’t know. I didn’t open it yet.”

“You can go ahead and read it,” Fleamont said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Don’t hold back on my account.”

Sirius nodded, his gaze dropping to the letter. He slid his thumb under the Sticking Charm and unfolded it. His eyes automatically went down to the bottom of the long letter was signed Lily Evans. Evans? What was she doing writing him?

His eyes flew back up to the top of the page, his fingers pressing tight against the parchment. 

[lightwise]

Character ask game: Commander Cody, because I love him my honor.

Look at his knife.

Greetings Cody's tired wife.

Cody

One aspect about them I love - His gentleness and kindness. He is SO obviously Obi-Wan’s Commander (whether you ship Codywan or not). The fact that even when his chip is activated (I assume) when we see him in TBB season 2, and he is still working with the Empire not bc he wants some kind of power but bc he genuinely wants to believe that they are making the galaxy a better place…and slowly realizing they are not. The way he wants to promise peace to Tawni Ames and lays down his weapon in the hopes of negotiating some sort of treaty. The way he hesitates to obey a direct order from a “commanding” officer (don’t get me started on Grotton and whether or not that was really an order…he’s infuriating to me), and Crosshair covers his back by executing said order bc Cody couldn’t bring himself to do it. I think it’s been so many years since the last of Cody’s story was told in Revenge of the Sith, that when The Solitary Clone aired I expected to see a man who had fully accepted the brainwashing from the Empire and was just doing his job. But to see his desire for real justice and peace come through…it was just beautiful. He’s a good man. 

one aspect i wish more people understood about them - I’m later to the Cody appreciation table so I doubt that there’s anything I have to add here that other people haven’t already figured out. I just really loved seeing the depth of his character we got to see in The Solitary Clone - as a soldier, as a leader, as a fighter, as a brother to Crosshair, his inner turmoil, and his morality all shining through. 

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character - at some point the chip’s hold must have loosened on him and I wonder if he woke up in a cold sweat one night all of a sudden realizing what he did (or thinks he did) to Obi-Wan. Since they almost had him written into the Kenobi show, I definitely think he spent a lot of time wondering if Obi-Wan survived, where he might be if he was still alive, blaming himself for what he thinks was his decision to try and kill him. It must have haunted him in the back of his mind. 

one character i love seeing them interact with - Rex. Their brotherly bond and bantering is so much fun to see when they’re on missions together. I love how surprised Cody is when Rex starts going into crazy problem solving mode a la Anakin, and Cody will at first be shocked but then be like welp okay I guess we’re going with this, hope it works! 

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more - Hunter. I would love to know exactly how Cody met the Bad Batch, which of the members he got to know first, if he kept an eye on them when they were cadets or if he heard of them once they were out doing missions for the first time. Maybe he knew between Kenobi and Skywalker that he or Rex may someday need to have a chaotic, “get things done however they can” squad on hand in case their generals needed an extraction team available 😂

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character - He always took care of Rex when they were cadets and forming friendships with Wolffe, Bly, etc. He had to have been in a somewhat lonely position as a marshal commander…there are few other clones at that rank with him, and other than Obi-Wan, Rex, and the other leaders that would have been considered his “peers”, it must have been difficult to always be in a position of authority over almost everyone he knew. And yet he always seems to be kind and generous to those around him. 

I hope I did your clone husband justice 😉 ☀️

#character ask game #commander cody #cody #some light ramblings #somelightramblings