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lecsainz · 5 months

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Can u do any kind of luke imagine with maybe a daughter of hades:p

˒ ⌕ DID YOU EAT, TODAY?

parings: luke castellan x hades!reader

an: this was my first piece that my sister liked? I'm sooo happy because she's picky, and I usually have to beg her to read anything I write. yes, I know it's pathetic, but I usually don't think my writing is good, and I don't think you guys will like it. I have a bit of a validation-seeking complex (mirroball girl here 😭

summary: where, after 18 years of surviving alone, you finally arrive at camp half-blood, discovering you're a child of hades. adimist it all, a hermes' boy might find himself perhaps falling for you.

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

The camp was bustling with activity, but for you, the chaos of your newfound identity as a demigod and a daughter of Hades was still settling in. The moment you were claimed upon entering the camp, it felt like your entire world had shifted. As the campers dispersed for their activities, you sought solace by the lake, needing a moment to process the overwhelming revelations.

Luke, having noticed your absence from the group, made his way to the lake with a small cupcake in hand. Blueberry, your favorite. He approached cautiously, recognizing the turmoil on your face. The daughter of Hades, a complex puzzle of emotions and powers.

"Hey there," Luke greeted, sitting down beside you. "Did you eat today?"

You looked up, your eyes still reflecting the confusion and vulnerability that came with the newfound knowledge of your divine parentage. The mere question, though simple, struck a chord within you, resonating with a sense of care that you hadn't expected.

"I... I didn't really feel like it." you admitted, your voice betraying the uncertainty.

Without another word, Luke handed you the cupcake, and the corners of his lips lifted into a reassuring smile. "Well, you should. It's blueberry – your favorite, right?"

Surprised, you glanced at the cupcake, realizing that somehow, amidst all the chaos, Luke had remembered your preference. A small, genuine smile formed on your face as you took the cupcake. "Thank you."

Taking the cupcake, you managed a small smile. The gesture was simple, yet it carried an unspoken understanding. You hesitated for a moment before taking a bite, savoring the sweetness that contrasted with the bitter reality you were grappling with.

Luke watched you quietly, and when you finally met his gaze, he reached over to wipe away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. It was a gentle touch, one that conveyed more comfort than words ever could.

"You know, being a demigod is tough, especially in the beginning," he began, his tone gentle. "But you're not alone in this. We're a family here, weird as it may be."

You chuckled, feeling a hint of warmth amidst the emotional storm. "Yeah, a family of demigods with divine parent issues."

Luke chuckled with you. "Exactly. And you've got powers from the Underworld, which is pretty cool if you ask me."

Your laughter echoed by the lake, and Luke couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading within him. He looked at you, your smile contagious, and a goofy grin formed on his face. In less than 48 hours, everything you did seemed to become his favorite thing.

"See? I knew blueberry cupcakes were the way to go," Luke teased, nudging you playfully.

As you enjoyed the cupcake, the night air became a canvas for the unspoken. Luke's gaze lingered on you, studying your features. The flicker of vulnerability in your eyes and the subtle playfulness of your smile sparked something in him. His mind wrestled with conflicting thoughts. The prophecy and his allegiance to Kronos felt like a weight on his shoulders, yet the simple act of being there for you seemed to defy the inevitable.

Luke couldn't help but think he was treading on dangerous ground. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that maybe, just maybe, there were things worth fighting for beyond the plans of gods and Titans.

Caught in his own internal struggle, he locked eyes with you. His expression shifted between uncertainty and an undeniable connection that was forming against all odds.

And then, as if a realization hit him, you blushed, looking away. The daughter of Hades, powerful and enchanting, now bashful under his gaze. A small smile played on Luke's lips, acknowledging the unexpected turn of emotions.

"Stop," you said, your voice a blend of amusement and a blush that colored your cheeks.

"I can't help it," Luke responded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He made no effort to hide his amusement, which only intensified your embarrassment.

A playful slap on his arm was your immediate response. "Seriously, cut it out."

Luke chuckled, the sound resonating in the tranquil night. "Alright, alright. I'll behave... for now."

"Hey, Castellan! We're heading out. You coming?" The moment was interrupted by a group of Hermes cabin members calling for Luke. As he got up to join them, he glanced back at you. "You coming?"

He extended his hand towards you, a gesture so simple yet filled with unspoken invitation. With a slight hesitance, you placed your hand in his, and together you walked away, fingers intertwined.

The children of Hermes exchanged smirks, whispering amongst themselves as they watched Luke and you leave the lakeside. One of them winked at Luke, teasingly remarking, "Looks like someone's got a soft spot."

Luke shot back with a grin, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He glanced at you, a sly smile playing on your lips radiating a warmth that ignited a turmoil within him. In that moment, a realization struck Luke like a lightning bolt – perhaps you were the unforeseen obstacle in Kronos' grand plan. As he stared at you, the idea that his growing feelings for you could complicate the titan's scheme loomed over him, and for the first time, Luke Castellan felt the weight of a dilemma he hadn't anticipated.

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riiwrites · 2 months

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𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐒 & 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒.

I have included a ‘daily click’ with a link that sends you to a site where you can help to deliver support to palestinian refugees with just a click. please take the time to click on the link each day to help and do what you can, thank you.

summary : in which you walk in on dazai and one of his unexpected habits.

genre : angst to fluff, comfort

warnings : mentions and links to overthinking, sad dazai :(, not proof read.

a/n : hi my beauties, it’s been a while since i’ve wrote anything so i hope you all enjoy this in honour of chapter 114 :3

dividers belong to @/benkeibear!

masterlist | main page | daily click

Dazai was a man of many things. He had many demons. Ones that would sometimes crawl up his back at night like a pitiful insect that could cause a shiver up one’s spine as they lay awake at night thinking of the things they could’ve done better. A perfect way to describe Dazais night as he stares at the naked ceiling with dull eyes as you sleep right next to him ever so peacefully.

He had dragons he couldn’t possibly dare to slay as they were just too undefeatable even for someone as calculating and conniving as Dazai. No matter how many plans ending in alphabetical order he tried to create, those dragons would always somehow manage to slide and slither like a snake into his mind. They were fake, the dragons of course. He convinced himself that most nights. ‘These worries will pass’ He’d tell himself, and most nights they did.

But not this time, this time it was much worse. Like a wave crashing on the shore, so did Dazai’s mental state crash as it crumbled before him like a king on his heavy throne without a protective shield to protect him from the things he hated.

It was a stressful day for you. This morning had been an absolute disaster for you as you had woken up way past your alarm and your lover was nowhere to be found. Sure, he might have just been doing his daily errands or doing whatever but for one, Dazai wasn’t quite the morning person and two, he was acting awfully..odd last night, and it was the kind of odd that you wouldn’t consider to be your lovers.

“Don’t you ever think that we..were born to die..?”

You furrow your eyebrows as you turn on your side to face your lover in the twin sized mattress you two were both quite comfortable on.

“Elaborate?” You ask.

“We as humans, live for a while, and then die..isn’t that our only purpose?”

“What, just to die? I don’t know maybe..” You answer, propping your head up with your arm, pressing your elbow into the soft material of the mattress.

“Hm..” He answers mindlessly. It was short and abrupt, but you could feel the tense aura in the room as he stared blankly up at the ceiling.

“..Something on your mind..?” You ask in a soft tone. Reaching your hand out slowly to brush some messy hairs back from his face. He always looked better with his hair off his face anyway.

He turns to you with a smile, but not one of the sweet and sunny ones, oh no. This one had sorrow.

It was such a sad smile. One of woe and pain that not even words of the finest lips could speak to convey such torment.

“Just peachy.” He replies, but you both knew that was such a lie.

“Y/N.” Kunikidas curt voice snaps you out of the reigns of your own sorrow. “You’re free to leave.”

“Huh..?”

“I understand you are not in the correct mindset to resume your work duties. So please, feel free to head home.”

Your eyes widen as you furrow your eyebrows in sympathy at the man. Were you that readable?

“Oh, Kunikida there’s no need really-“

“It’s an order.” He interrupts, not a single change in his expression as he tells you so. “It’s an order from me that you go home and take care of yourself.”

Silence fills the small work space you two find yourself in as you can only nod, standing up in the same silence as you quickly gather your things and turn to the door.

“And Y/N.” Kunikida speaks again, to which you turn your head over your shoulder to see that his expression had changed just a little bit, to one of concern.

“If you ever need to speak to someone. I’m here.”

You smile, a short but sweet one that shows you appreciate his kindness.

“Thank you.” You whisper. Kunikida returns the favour with the same short kind smile you gave him, before returning to his same demeanour and professionalism as he says one last thing.

“And tell damn Dazai to come in for his paperwork also..I’m getting worried about the bastard.”

This makes you frown as you turn to leave. Dazai hasn’t been in the whole day? Then just where the hell is he..?

You walked home with an umbrella over your head as the weather spat rain from the skies. ‘What a perfect way to capture the mood’ you thought as you looked down at your feet splashing against the wet tiles of concrete on the ground as you walked on the sidewalk.

You soon reach home after the boring walk to your apartment. You jingle the keys into the lock before walking into your ‘homey home’.

That’s when, you noticed something on the shoe rack. Shoes of the man you loved oh so dearly. Dazai was here! You can’t ignore the jump in your heart when you recognise his presence.

Given the fact that you couldn’t hear any footsteps or sounds coming from the kitchen or living room, you can only imagine that he was upstairs in the comfort of your bedroom you two shared together. You look up the staircase and began your adventure upward.

Once you head upstairs, you head towards your room, you could hear the sounds of..shuffling? which you could only assume was your lover doing whatever it was he was doing in your room. You expected something stupid, as that’s what he was normally known for doing. So you expected something of the sort.

What you didn’t expect however, was to find said lover rolling along the carpet of your bedroom floor.

But, here he was - rolling. What an odd thing to say..

Silence fills the room once he realises you’re in the room. He abruptly stops and leans up to see you.

“..Hi.”

“..Hi my love.” You say, still in a bit of shock after seeing this..delightful sight.

“..So you probably have questions..” He begins to say, looking off at the wall beside you to avoid eye contact from this awkward exchange. You only smile at him, before shaking your head.

“I do, but not related to what you’re doing.” You say, before closing the door and making your way over to him.

He snaps his head to look at you, furrowed eyebrows and a look of confusion pair well together as he looks at you with bewilderment as you stand above him, suggesting to the floor.

“May I?” He smiles at this.

“..You may.” He replies, scooting over to make room.

Your smile remains as you shimmy off your coat and place it on the bed before you sit on the floor and lay down next to him, turning your head to face him with the same kind smile.

“Are you alright?” You ask in a soft tone, the same soft tone you use with him that he loves so dearly.

“Just peachy.” He replies, and you recognise this conversation all over again.

“I know that’s a white lie.” You reply, urging to push further. Dazai hates to lie to you, but sometimes he does to protect you. But he knows now he simply can’t lie another time to you. His heart knows better.

“Just a little..” He replies, smiling mischievously as you flick his forehead playfully.

“Please talk to me.” You plea, furrowing your eyebrows in a rush of worry. He mirrors your expression as he realises just how concerned you actually are.

“I’m worried about you.”

Well, this was new. To Dazai atleast. He knew you cared and worried of course, but to hear you say such words awakened a type of emotion he didn’t have in him. It was a little punch in the stomach that made his insides churn with warmth, he didn’t know what to call it.

“..I’m sorry.” He begins with a soft tone, grabbing your hand gently and holding it to his lips as he presses a gentle, apologetic kiss to the knuckles of your hand.

“Oh, why are you apologising my love..? You mustn’t..” You whisper as you take his same hand that was holding yours and press it to your lips, now kissing his knuckles also.

A moment of silence passes before he takes a deep breath to answer. This would be a hurdle, but he knows he’ll need to jump for you.

“..I get like this sometimes.” He answers. “I get these thoughts. I like to think of them as dragons..because they’re like big and powerful. That’s what my thoughts are like.”

You nod in understanding, beckoning him to continue.

“..and sometimes they just get..too much for me to handle.”

You furrow your eyebrows in concern again, to which Dazai reaches his finger up and rubs your crease away.

“Don’t frown, you’ll get wrinkles.” He teases as a way to cheer you up from this confession. You let out a chuckle, reaching out to brush his messy hair off his face.

“You always look better with your hair off your face..” You say, to which you can see him smile. But not a sad one, oh no, this one was a genuine one. You could tell.

“I have been trying to control them, I don’t just let them haunt me.” He reassures and continues. “That’s why I’ve been away the whole day. I tried to go out for a walk early in the morning.” He shrugs.

“It’s also why I’m laying down here.” He confesses. “It..somehow relaxes me, calms me, helps me to organise my thoughts.”

You smile. “It’s unexpected, but healthy. I’m glad you’re finding better ways to cope, Samu.”

“Thanks my love.” He responds as he leans forward and kisses your forehead, to which you pull him in for a big hug, rubbing his back gently.

“..I’ve had a shit day..” You whisper.

“I’ve also had a shit day..” He whispers back.

“We’ve had a shit day.” You laugh into his shoulder, he laughs with you as he presses a kiss to your head.

He pulls away as he sits up, holding your hands to help you sit up too. You face him at the same eye level as you finally ask the dreaded question.

“..Why didn’t you tell me..?”

To this his smile slowly fades, but he smiles softly as he rubs your hands.

“To protect you, I guess. I don’t want to drag you down. Don’t want the dragons getting to you.” He jokes with the last part, to which you smile and say.

“I’ll slay dragons with you anyday.” You squeeze his hand, he squeezes back in return.

“But!” You swipe your hand away from his, to which he’s a bit taken back with.

“No lies next time. If you’re feeling down, please turn to me if you need a helping hand, okay?”

He smiles at your face, the face he loves so much. He takes your hand and presses one last kiss to your knuckles.

“No lies, only truths.” He promises, before he leans in to give you a sweet but firm kiss on the lips. “and kisses.” He smirks and gives you a cheeky wink.

“Oh wow.” You sarcastically reply, rolling your eyes as you can’t hide the smile you have on your face. “You’re adorable.”

At times like these, Dazai cherishes. He cherishes so hard that he feels that if you took his brain out he’d have memories literally ingraved inside his mushy brain of things he cherished.

You were the most kindest, selfless, and loveable human being Dazai could have ever asked for. He was so grateful for you.

Not only does he have a lover, but a friend, and also a partner he can slay dragons with any-day and night. No dragon was too big for the both of you.

✿ riiwrites 2024 ; please refrain from copying, plagiarising or reposting my work anywhere else without crediting.

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writing-with-sophia · 11 months

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Storytelling Techniques

A good storytelling method is essential for writing good fiction. There are many storytelling techniques that can be used to create engaging and memorable stories. Here are some common techniques you can use in your stories:

Use sensory details: Including sensory details in your story can help your audience imagine the scene and get emotionally invested in the story. For example, you can describe the colors, sounds, and smells of a place or event.

Build tension and suspense: Tension and suspense are important for keeping your audience engaged and invested in your story. You can create tension by introducing a conflict or challenge that the characters must overcome.

Foreshadowing: Foreshadowing is a technique used to hint at future events in the story. This can create anticipation and keep your audience engaged.

Use pacing effectively: Pacing refers to the speed at which the story unfolds. Make sure to vary the pacing to keep your audience engaged. For example, you can slow down the pacing during emotional or reflective moments, and speed it up during action scenes.

Show, don't tell: Instead of simply telling your audience what is happening in the story, show them through vivid descriptions and actions. This can help your audience feel more immersed in the story.

Use metaphor and simile: Metaphors and similes can help create vivid descriptions and comparisons in your story. They can also help to convey complex ideas in a more accessible way.

Flashbacks and flash-forwards: Flashbacks and flash-forwards can help provide context for the story and create tension. Make sure to use them sparingly and at appropriate moments in the story.

Use humor: Humor can be a powerful tool for engaging your audience and making your story more memorable. Just make sure that the humor is appropriate for the tone and subject matter of your story.

Suspenseful chapter endings: Ending chapters on a suspenseful note can help keep your audience engaged and eager to read on.

By using these techniques and others, you can create a compelling and memorable story that will engage and entertain your audience.

If you want to read more posts about writing, please click here and give me a follow!

#creative writing #writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #writer things #writers #writersociety #on writing #writers on tumblr #women writers #writerscorner #female writers #writerblr #writblr #writing tips #writing community #write #storytelling #technical writing

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cozymoko · 1 year

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So what I was thinking was that yuu has been in the manor for awhile, she always sees a locked door that she just can help but be curious about. Whenever she asks about it they tell her to bind her business, one the door was unlocked somehow (maybe someone forgot to lock it again after visiting idk) and she goes in to look and she finds us! The only sister of the Sakamaki family! (If it could be platonic Yandere that would be great) and you can go on from there bc idk what to add or the reactions of everyone would be 🥲 also sorry if this still isn’t any help I’m not sure if this is still confusing

THE SECRET SAKAMAKI

Note: I completely understand, no worries!

PART TWO: here!

Synopsis: Yui finally meets the only sister of the Sakamaki family who has been hidden away by her brothers.

Pairing: Yandere! Sakamaki brothers x platonic! sister reader

Format: Scenario

Word Count: 1.6k

WARNING(S): slight platonic yandere themes.

Want more Diabolik lovers? → Masterlist! ★

Please proceed below the cut.

Only a few weeks had passed since Yui Kamori’s arrival, and she truthfully wanted nothing more than to return home. Where she didn’t have to sleep with one eye open. Her skin ached, practically screaming for salvation after undergoing endless amounts of “punishments'' for even the smallest of actions.

But today, no one was here. At least not at the moment, leaving her to relax until her heart’s content. With that said, the young human teen decided to treat herself to a walk, around the manor of course. After all, she had yet to see even half of the wonders (horrors) that were the Sakamaki household and she was more than just curious.

Door after door: open, close; open, close. It was a never-ending cycle of boredom and disappointment. She had almost given up, concluding that there was truly nothing extraordinary happening behind closed doors. But that was before she saw it. Yui stumbled upon an unfamiliar door with a unique gold plaque just inches above it, serving as its most noticeable dissimilarity from the others.

The door was nothing special. It was wooden with gleaming gold imprinting smoothed between every crevice. But it stood out nonetheless. Yui slowly dragged her eyes along its surface, taking in its somewhat feminine appearance. Above it rested a large golden panel, inhabited by intricate calligraphy neatly engraved into its exterior; reading “Our treasure: [Name]”

Yui reached out, allowing her fingertips to subtly graze the cool doorknob, mere moments away from twisting it open…

“You know, it's really impolite to go snooping around someone else’s home, little bitch~!” The sound of Laito’s voice nearly made her jump out of her skin. His tone was light but lacked the playfulness it tried so desperately to convey. “Allow me to escort you back to your room, fufu~.”

Reluctantly, she followed, allowing the vampire to steer her further and further from the mysterious door; then down the hall, and back to her room. Her newfound curiosity outweighed her feeling of fear, despite Laito’s troublesome grip on her arm.

And she couldn’t help but wonder…

Just what was behind that door? Who is [Name]?

So the next day she tried her luck once more. Swiftly abandoning the security of her room, Yui proceeded down the dimly lit hallway. With the door close in sight, she noticed hushed whispers growing more audible by the second. Lo and behold, it was Kanato.

His pale cheek pressed flush against the door's wooden frame, sweet yet borderline obsessive affirmations spilling from his thin lips. Yui assumed he was talking to himself, as far-fetched as it seemed. Though she wouldn't put it past Kanato of all people.

That's when she heard it. The faintest voice reached her ears, it was feminine and loving; and very clearly a blessing to Kanato's ears. She was sure he was ready to squeal with joy if not for the very slim amount of dignity he retained. Never had she seen him happier.

A small smile pulled at the corners of her lips and before she knew it she was staring fondly at the scene. It wasn't every day she saw those sadistic men act so sweet and vulnerable, even if it was a little odd. Her dazed state didn't go unnoticed, unfortunately, as lilac hues met her soft rosy ones.

“You—?!” The vampire practically screeched, trudging down the hallway towards the human girl. “Just how much did you hear?”

Let's just say she was left with more than just a few bruises, poor girl.

The next day Yui ventured down that same vacant hallway. The old floorboards threatened to groan under her weight as she approached that same door that haunted her dreams.

“Haah…You really are a troublesome woman,” Yui jumped, startled. At her side lies a familiar champagne-haired man, tired and less than amused by her appearance. “This room is off-limits for brides. Even so, I've never met one as nosey as you. Leave while you can.”

The girl was stunned, shaking like a leaf. When did Shu get here? Why was he here? Her suspicions were creeping up on her like an unruly wave threatening to sweep her under any moment. At that moment she had finally realized, It wasn't just a door.

I think.

But of course, curiosity killed the cat.

Having grown tired of being caught, tied up, and punished time and time again Yui tried a distant approach; she had no choice. Her fair skin had grown battered and bruised, adorned by more lacerations and pricks than she could count. So as one does, she took her chances and decided to confide in Reiji.

Entering his room, Yui politely took a seat across from the man at a polished deep oak wood table. Accompanied by freshly brewed tea set evenly between the two. “Reiji,” Yui commenced, though her words came as an airy puff as her nerves threatened to tear through her light bravery. “I…I've been curious about something as of lately. A door in particular,”

His red eyes narrowed significantly, “Go on.”

“All the guys have been acting kind of strange lately every time I get close to it and—”

A firm hand made contact with her chest, successfully knocking the wind right out of her, slamming her into the harsh cushioning that lined the leather sofa. “Enough; That is none of your concern, you are merely a living blood bag,” He sighed, sending her a menacing glare. “Don't allow your curiosity to push you to do unnecessary things. If you disrupt the peace of those I hold dear to be I shall punish you personally, do you understand?”

The mortal nodded and swallowed sharply, briskly maneuvering from the vampires prying gaze. And much to her surprise, he allowed it. Yui rushed to the door before slipping through its slight opening, down the hall, and then back to her room once more.

Someone Reiji cared for was behind that door, and from the looks of it, there was no way it was one of his brothers. So who?

No matter, at that point, Yui had given up. She was scared shitless, not wanting to undergo any more torture than she already was. She had a sneaking suspicion that the brothers were slowly losing their patience with her and she didn't want to be there to experience the consequences.

So the next few days were carried out like any other. Today she was spending her time with a certain redhead, mindlessly listening to his narcissistic rambles. As they turned down a familiar hallway, she glanced to the man at her side. Ayato walked past the door without a care in the world and made her start to second guess herself.

Perhaps her gaze lingered on the door for a second too long, for a certain redhead had noticed her delayed footsteps. “Oi, pancake what the hell are yo-?” He paused, his face growing visibly sour as he followed her eyes. “...Looking at.”

He scoffed, gripping tightly onto her frail wrist. From the looks of it, he was not pleased.

“The last thing I need is for more competition, those five assholes are more than enough.”

His hushed grumbles were like sirens to Yui's ears, igniting the dying flame of determination in her chest. That was all she needed to hear as nothing from that point on could prove her suspicions false. There was definitely someone behind that door.

However, it seemed her luck had already run out.

Until one fateful day at least.

A sliver in the door, so small it was almost unnoticeable. Feeling some sense of urgency the girl jumped to her feet, making a straight beeline to the wooden door before slamming it behind her. The subtle sound of someone clearing their throat dragged her from her internal celebration.

The woman looked to be no older than sixteen, but she knew better than to believe she was any younger. Her silky hair was tied neatly out of her face, with very little makeup brushing her features. An extravagant rococo-styled dress fell to her ankles as she busied herself with a thick novel. Only when she met her eyes did Yui notice the resemblance the woman shared with the brothers.

“A mortal girl,” The woman said, almost matter-of-factly. “You must be the sacrificial bride, correct? Yui Kamori, I presume.”

She nodded, so slowly that she seemed unsure, causing a jovial laugh to slip through the beautiful woman's painted lips.

“I see…you’re not much of a talker, are you?” The woman smiled politely before closing the book that rested in her hands, lazily tracing small circles into its cover. “No matter. Answer me this, how did you get in here? Subaru must've forgotten to close it, he's in here quite often, after all, he's such a big baby.”

“Wha…What?”

“That door is never open so I think you know what I’m hinting at.” The physically younger woman leaned toward the mortal girl, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “As for Subaru, I'm a little bit older than him so he tends to cling to me like his life depends on it!”

Yui gave her a look of blatant confusion, hardly catching onto whatever the young vampire was spewing out. “Hm, you look a bit confused and clueless, let me help you.” The woman smiled, whispering her rude comment dismissively “Do you even know why I’m in here?”

Yui shook her head, ignoring the anxiety gnawing away at her composure. Gradually shying away from the woman's attention as she hugged her sides.

“Oh my, then this should be a real treat.” She giggled, gazing fondly at the frightened girl. “Now, Yui Kamori, allow me, [Name] Sakamaki to tell you a tale of endless obsession!”

#—🍁#x reader #platonic yandere #diabolik lovers headcanons #diabolik lovers scenarios #diabolik lovers imagines #diaboys #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #diabolik lovers x reader #yandere diabolik lovers

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ariadne-mouse · 17 days

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Regarding the initial confrontation between Essek and Astrid, the tone of the situation, and what exactly Astrid's stance is right now, I have a couple of thoughts:

Astrid has presumably not joined Ludinus because she is currently hiding in a smut shop. She also presumably hasn't joined the Exandrian Accord because, again, she is currently hiding in a smut shop & the Accord is sending missions after her. Maybe she disagrees with Ludinus but feels she can't safely outright oppose him. We don't know yet! Provided she isn't rooting for Ludinus, it's very possible she could be enlisted to help (I hope this happens btw), but Astrid is first and foremost a survivor and ambitious achiever who has gotten to where she is now by working within the greater system, not against it, even when she disagrees with it. She remained a Volstrucker until Caleb and the M9 turned the tide against Ikithon, and she later took on the role of Archmage that Caleb refused, continuing her original trajectory ("race you to the top!"). She has a great deal of power now and we don't have much information about what she does with it. I am very curious, though, Astrid please tell us your secrets.

"Bren sends his regards" - we don't know if Caleb told Essek to say this, but whether or not he did, I do think it was meant to convey "this is all with Caleb's knowledge and direction", for whatever measure that means to Astrid, most likely "you are safe for the moment". The purpose of this encounter is to have a conversation instead of a fight. And Essek's intent in saying it does seem to be to disarm Astrid, but his presentation puts some layers and edges on it that are likely independent of whatever Caleb might be feeling on his end (other posts have summarized the juicy possible layers well so I won't cover all of that here).

More high level on Essek's angle: even if "Bren sends his regards" was meant to signal to Astrid that she is safe in this encounter, one of the very first things Essek does is declare Astrid as Trent Ikithon's "successor", which Astrid of course disagrees with ("I'm his usurper!") but nevertheless this is an insult and condemnation coming from Essek. The subtext reads to me like "I don't like you or agree with you and you're on thin fucking ice how I see it". Is she safe from physical harm? It seems so, for now. Is she safe from bitchy comments and thinly veiled judgement? Certainly not.

Notably, Astrid tried to bamf out after hearing "Bren sends his regards", so the mention of him or what that message would mean coming from Caleb is not enough to get her to play ball by itself. This is perfectly reasonable to be honest; shit's all fucked up now and Essek basically cornered her with a squad of unfamiliar adventurers. But her skittishness despite the "friendly" signal implies a great deal of tension in her position, and Essek's behavior shows tension on his part as well, separate from whatever Caleb might be feeling offscreen and the purpose of this little mission for the Accord. I am very eager to hear the conversation that comes next!

#this post will become stale literally tomorrow but hey #today's today #Caleb is currently Sir Not Appearing In this Film so we can't dive into his view on Astrid #i would guess it's “very complicated friends” considering their past as volstrucker and lovers and her current role in the Assembly #which is very opposite to Caleb's stance of “I want to take down the Assembly actually that's why i didn't take the job”#but anyway i hope they bring Astrid along so Matt can argue and snipe at himself it would be very funny #cr spoilers #c3e94 #astrid #essek thelyss #op #critical role

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justmeinadaze · 3 months

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I was rereading your aftercare series and I thought about if reader and her bf had like really bad sex, maybe like in his car or something, and she doesn't even cum, and then he drops her off at home where Steve and Eddie help her get off and then take the best care of her 💙

Ok so I have a couple of requests in waiting I may use this version of them for. I think it will help focus my brain and since a lot of your requests are like this I think I can fit it into this AU and get them out faster :)

I hope you like!

Why Can't I Be in a Meg Ryan Movie? (Or Even a Good Porno)

Warnings: Actor Steve Harrington/ Rockstar & Actor Eddie Munson and Actress Fem Reader, SMUT, in the shower :), some heavy petting on set, dirty talk, reader and her boyfriend have sex and she does not have a good time (quick and brief), FLUFF, these three are filming a movie together and since they are supposed to be friends they BECAME friends behind the scenes, ANGST, reader is unhappily in a relationship, he's a dick sabotaging scenes and talking down to her, they are filming an 80s Slasher movie together so their are times those scenes are conveyed (mentions of death, blood, needing to feel safe, etc.) Those scenes are brief.

Word Count: 4897

The metalhead swings open his front door, gun drawn as you squeak and hide behind your gorgeous, captain of the football team best friend.

“Whoa! It’s us, James, it’s us.”

“Jesus, Carter. What the fuck happened?!”, the long-hair boy asks as he gestures you two inside and locks the door.

“Cindy’s fucking dead.”, the jock answered with a gruff tone as he guided you towards the sink and began washing the blood from your hands as you sobbed.

“Shit. Nina, I’m so sorry.”

“I-I-It’s ok.”

The man’s palms grip your cheeks as he wipes your tears with his thumbs.

“It’s not. We can make it through this. I know we can. We just need to figure out who this fucker is so we can kill him ourselves.”

“Agreed but we aren’t doing that tonight. James, is it alright if we stay here with you?”

“Dude, yeah, of course. Sweetheart, you can take the bed and we can—”

“No!”, you cry out. “Please…I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course, there’s only one fucking bed.”

Everyone in the room groans as you frustratingly lay your forehead against the tattooed arm you had reached out to grab.

“Cut! Ryan, we’ve talked about this. You can’t interrupt a scene.”

“Aren’t you shooting in the studio next door?”, Steve growled in annoyance as he threw the prosthetic bat he was holding on to the counter.

“Maybe they got tired of him to.”, Eddie whispered loud enough that your boyfriend could hear.

When you received the script from your agent to be in a typical 80’s slasher, you immediately turned him down for fear of being type cast like some of the other actresses you read about who starred in the genre but when he mentioned you’d be working with not only the massive heartthrob and brilliant actor Steve Harrington but also the rockstar of one of your favorite bands Corroded Coffin, you changed your tune.

When you told your boyfriend however he was less than amused. Honestly, you thought it was more his anger that you were getting a high paying job than who you were working with. Ryan’s own career was starting to stall as the ratings for his current show were in decline. You noticed he had begun taking that out on you in subtle ways like demeaning you at a party or, like right now, sabotaging a scene.

“Fuck you, Munson. I’m a respected actor! You’ve been in what one other movie?”

“Well shit. He got me, Harrington. What the fuck would I know about being an actor? Please Ryan can you teach me how to get on your level? Teach me how to be an asshole just like you!”

“OK! Jesus.”, the director whined. “Can we reset and do this with no interruptions please?!”

Both men turn and you follow Steve to the other side of the door.

“I’m so sorry, you guys. He’s not always like this.”

“Hm. You need to be careful with that one, honey. I know he’s your boyfriend and all but I don’t want him to ruin all the hard work you’ve done here.”

“Steve, this is a slasher film about a killer who wears a suit and clown mask killing high school seniors. It’s not Citizen Kane.”, you giggle making them smile.

“Yeah but picture people dressing up like you like they do with Jamie Lee Curtis or that hot chick whose show was big when we were school. What was it, Steve?”

“I have no idea.”, he chuckles.

“With the hair and the black dress that…” Eddie mimed pushing his chest together as if he had boobs making you laugh harder.

“Elvira?”

“YEAH! Good job, princess. Thank you. Imagine people dressing like you in that sexy ass tank top and jeans that hug them hips.”

You grinned as you lightly punched his arm. Since Steve was playing your best friend, after you were cast you reached out to him and invited him to lunch hoping to get to know him better. When he told you Eddie was hisbest friend, you insisted he bring him along and over the last few months had gotten to know both men fairly well. You loved their attitudes and the way they made you laugh. You felt safe with them which in a media dominated by men you appreciated.

***

“How was your date last night?”, you ask Steve while the three of were laying in the bed on set.

You were a bit nervous because this was supposed to be your big kiss scene with him so you were trying to lighten the mood as much as possible.

“Pfft terrible. She whined the entire time about my restaurant choice and was rude to the staff.”, he sighed as Eddie giggled behind you.

“I tooooold you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, Munson.”

“See we never had that problem when we shared girls.”

“Whoa! Excuse me. You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”, you laughed with wide eyes.

“Ok, first off, it did happen a few times which is why we aren’t currently in a relationship. Secondly… Eddie and I…may have shared a partner a time or two.”

“Wow. Do you two, um,…”

“No, we don’t ‘um’ but yeah we like the way a woman unfolds when we take care of her.”, the metalhead smiles making you blush a bit. “Have you ever tried it?”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m not really…adventurous like that I guess.”

“Captain asshole doesn’t blow your mind?”

Your smile widens as you punch his chest.

“Not…no. I don’t know. Ryan tries but lately he seems so distracted.”

“Hm. That’s a shame. Beautiful girl like you should have all the attention on her.” Steve throws a soft grin your way, deepening the pink around your cheeks.

You’re suddenly very aware you are in a long heavy metal shirt with underwear and no pants while both men are in sweatpants with Steve shirtless.

“Ok, gang, get comfy. We’re going to do some lighting tests real quick to make sure we’re still good and then we’ll start rolling.”

Nodding, you three get in your places that were discussed in rehearsal. As Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and you do the same across Steve’s tummy, you feel very thankful your boyfriend wasn’t there today. After lifting his arm, you rest your head on his chest as he casually starts playing with your hair.

“I’m not fucking anything up am I?”, he asks in a deep, husky voice you weren’t prepared for.

“Oh, uh, no I think…I think you’re fine.”

“You can put your hand on my chest if you want.”

Blinking up at him, you do what he suggests and a sigh leaves his lips at the feeling.

“Ok, we are good to go. Everyone is sleeping except you Carter. Nina wakes up, you say your lines, kiss, and then you hear a noise that startles you.”

Your eyes shut as you nuzzle into him as he continues to move his fingers through your hair.

“Alright, I need quiet on set and action!”

Your head stirs at the feeling of fingers caressing you as your eyes flutter open.

“Carter?”

“Yeah, hey, I’m right here.”

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

“No but I’m ok. James is past the fuck out though.” You both laugh as you glance behind you towards the sleeping metalhead. “He rolled over a while ago and wrapped his arms around you. I guess he thinks you’re a teddy bear or something. You ARE very comfy.”, he grins as he looks down at you. “I’m a little jealous.”

“James IS very pretty.”

His smile grows as he kisses your forehead.

“Naw, honey. I mean he is very beautiful but…not as beautiful as you.”

Your eyes scan his as you both slowly tilt forward. When his lips land on yours, your body lights up as your palm lightly grips his cheek. His kisses come a bit more passionately as his own hand grips the back of your neck. As his tongue slides into your mouth, you groan as your mind is suddenly clouded with fuzzy feelings of your best friend.

Is it just you or can you feel your other friend pressing himself against you. Isn’t he asleep? Maybe I could turn and—

“CUT! Guys! Listen!”, the director yells. “I said cut like five times! Y/N, Steve, remember in rehearsal we said it was a soft, delicate kiss.”

“Sorry.”, the actor whispers before turning towards you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.” You glance towards Eddie whose eyes are squeezed shut still but he’s murmuring things to himself.

“Cold showers, cold showers, Wayne naked, fucking Jeff puking after too many booze…”

“Are you alright?”, you ask.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m, um, I’m ok. I’m sorry if you, um, we can…I’m sure the intimacy lady can put like a pillow or something…”, he suggests as his gaze shifts between his legs under the blanket. “Y/N, I don’t think you’re supposed to moan when you kiss him.”

“Huh?”

“You moaned when you were kissing me.”, Steve answered breathily as he continued staring into the void with wide eyes.

“That’s why I’m…I have a… you have really sexy moans, sweetheart.”

“And you taste really fucking good.”

Your eyes lock with Steve’s at his comment as a heavy exhale escaped your lungs.

“Alright, gang, reset!”

Laying back in your original positions, you realize Eddie’s is a bit farther from you than he was before. Biting your bottom lip, you turn your head as much as you can towards him.

“Ed, you can…you can scoot closer.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not.” To emphasis your point, you push your lower half into his and a subtle groan leaves his throat. Holding your hips, he grinds against you making your eye lids droop as your rub your thighs together and lift your leg over the other man’s waist, just grazing the growing bulge in the sweats they had them in.

“Ok! We’re ready to go. Take two and we’re rolling…action!”

You ARE very comfy.”, he grins as he looks down at you. “I’m a little jealous.”

“James IS very pretty.”

His smile grows as he kisses your forehead.

“Naw, honey. I mean he is very beautiful but not as beautiful as you.”

The boy’s lips feverishly crash to yours as he twists his torso to give himself better access to your

mouth.

“Carter.”, you moan.

“Y/N.”, he answers in your ear that’s furthest from the mic.

Your eyes shoot open as you realize what’s happening and no one is in character anymore. Pushing at his chest, he sees the slight regret in your eyes as he tries to regain his composure.

“I think I heard something.”, you point absently off camera. Throwing off the blanket, he grabs his weapon before you quickly grab his arm. “Be careful…please. I-I-I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His eyes soften as he leans in and give you a small peck on the lips.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be ok. I promise.”

############

“Geez.”, Ryan laughed as you tore at his pants in the back seat of his car. “What’s got you all hot and bothered?”

“I just…missed you.”

Your boyfriend’s grin grows as he takes hold of your lower back and flips you around till he’s on top of you yanking down your pants. As he kisses your neck and rubs his cock along the cotton blocking your core, your mind begins to wonder.

Steve’s lips tasted amazing. I wonder what Eddie tastes like. Feeling them groan in my ear…fucking hell…

As Ryan’s length entered your sex, you suddenly felt underwhelmed.

They both felt so big even through their pants. I wonder what they would feel like inside of me…together…moaning like they had…

“Fuck, babe.” His body shook as he thrust his seed inside of you a bit too aggressively as you laid there unsatisfied. “God that was… did you…?”

Nodding your head, he beamed down at you as he kissed your forehead before reaching for a napkin on the floor of his car. When he handed it to you, you held it without moving as a disgusted look painted your face.

“I have to get back to work. You should go home and take a shower. You smell like sweat and that asshole rocker’s cigarettes.”

With that, he exited his vehicle and walked back inside.

Shaking your head, you ambled over to your own car and reached into your glove compartment for some of the tissues you stored there. You sat in the driver’s seat for a while staring off into space feeling slightly dirty and used.

You may have initiated the contact but lately Ryan hadn’t been satisfying you and the way he was after didn’t make you feel any better.

Abruptly, you slammed your door and started the engine, driving off into what you thought was no particular direction.

#############

“Hi, um, I’m sorry. I must be at the wrong—”

“Are you looking for Steven?”, the girl interrupted sassily. “Yeah you’re in the right place but don’t expect anything from either of these assholes.”

“Carol, why are you answering my door? I told you, please, get out.”

Steve’s eyes met yours as fear flashed through them.

“All yours, babe.”

As she stomped past you, the boy took her place in the doorway of the apartment.

“I’m sorry. I should just go.”

“No! Wait, no!”, he yelled panicked as he reached for your arm. “Please, come in. She was just…that’s the girl I had my date with who was rude, remember? She came over because…I didn’t call her? I don’t know.”, he shrugs.

Stepping into their shared space, you were surprised by how modest it was. With how much money they made together, you would have expected them in a penthouse or a mansion.

“Is the pterodactyl gone?”, Eddie asks as he exits his room pausing when he sees you. “Shit. Hey, Y/N. Are you alright? You look frazzled.”

“Why pterodactyl?”, you ask with a small smirk as you feel both their eyes intensely scanning you over.

“She, uh, came in here like a bat out of hell screeching. Raaaaaaaw!”, he mimics as he spreads his arms like wings, smiling when you laugh. “See? I’m an actor.”

“What’s going on, honey? I thought you were spending some time with Ryan.”, Steve inquires as he leans over the back of their couch.

“I was! I did… we, um, spent some time together… in his backseat…”

“And then he just sent you home?”

“Yeah, well, not right away. First he came in like 3 seconds and I learned that my boyfriend who I’ve been sleeping with for 4 months has no idea what a woman orgasming feels like because he asked me if I did and when I told him yes he got super excited. Then he proceeded to hand me a dirty napkin from his floor to clean myself with and then promptly told me I should go home and shower because I smell gross like sweat and your cigarettes Eddie.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised he even fucking noticed because I was barely even present during the whole experience because I was too busy imagining you two and what you would feel like inside me! Now I feel like a whore, used, and disgusting and I didn’t know where else to go so I just started driving and somehow ended up here and—”

Steve pulling you into his arms and pressing your face into his chest cut you off as you cried.

“Hey, Munson, is your shower actually clean?”

“I’m always on tour, Harrington, so what do you think?”

“No then?” Both boys smile when you giggle against him. “That’s ok. We can use mine. Come on, pretty girl.”

Eddie trails after you both as Steve guides you into his room and towards the bathroom. Opening the door to his standing shower, you marvel at how big it actually is.

“Wow. This is very nice.”

“Thank you.”, he smiles as he sticks his palm under the water to make sure it its warm. As the steam starts to rise, he gestures inside. “All for you, honey.”

“Just me?”, you whisper as your gaze shifts between them.

“What would make you comfortable, Y/N?”, Eddie asks as he steps closer to your side.

Swallowing nervously, you close your eyes as you lift off your shirt and toss it to the side before unbuttoning your jeans to do the same.

A tap on your shoulder causes you to open them again meeting the metalhead’s chocolate irises as he tries not to glance down your body.

“You have to say it, sweetheart. If you don’t want this or anything at all that’s absolutely fine. If you want us to even just sit out here while you’re in there or just to stand in there with you…”

“Or if you want us to do some of those things you were imagining us doing when you were with Ryan…you have to say it.”, Steve adds.

Nodding silently, you remove your bra and slide down your panties, their gazes never leaving your face.

“I want you two to shower with me and take care of me.”

Softly smiling, the remove their clothes and you provide them the same courtesy they did you, keeping your eyes forward. After guiding you in first, they follow behind and you let out a deep sigh as the water hits your hair.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I know I’ve always jokingly flirted with you but I do think you are gorgeous.”, Eddie admits making you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you?”

As soon as you get permission your lips connect to his, reveling in the taste of cigarettes that Ryan seemed to have so much disdain for mixed with mint and a hint of alcohol. While his fingers tangled in your hair to pull you closer, Steve’s hands behind you roamed everywhere, down your arms, along your stomach, and up to your breasts.

The metalhead tenderly kissed your jawline, trailing the valley of your chest. Almost as if offering him a taste, the boy behind you cupped the bottom of you breast as Eddie wrapped his lips around the bud eliciting a soft moan from you.

“Eddie.”

“Does that feel good, honey?”, Steve murmured in your ear as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“Yes. S-So good.”

Descending to his knees, Eddie turned you to face the other man, opening your legs a bit wider and you mewled when his long tongue flicked your entrance.

“How do you feel now, Y/N?”

“Fuck.” Your response makes Steve chuckle as he grabs your cheeks and brings your lips to his. “Can I…touch you…please…”, you ask between each kiss.

“Baby, you can touch us as much as you want as long as you’re comfortable.”

As soon as your small hand takes hold of his cock he groans as his forehead falls on yours, panting against your mouth as you stroke him.

“Shit. We’ve been thinking about you all afternoon. How you would feel and what you would sound like.”

Your head leans against his chest as Eddie’s tongue moves faster inside of you. Abruptly your knees buckle but the metalhead is faster than his friend as he catches you and leans your back against his chest. Looping his arm around your front, he thrusts his two of his fingers into your cunt while you cling to his wrist.

“That good, baby girl? Good, you deserve it. You’re not a whore, sweetheart, and you’re definitely not disgusting. Cum for me, Y/N.” Turning your head, you passionately kiss him as you come undone. “Fuck, your pussy is so tight when you cum. Are you kidding me?”

“M-More. I want more. Please.”

Steve lifts you up just enough to place your back on the tile as he climbs on top of you and you promptly circle your legs around his waist.

“This ok? The tile isn’t cold, right?” Shaking your head, you lean up to kiss him, grinding your lower half against his desperately. “Are you… on—fuck—can I cum inside you?”

“Please.”

He licks his lips at the word as his cock twitches against you. Reaching between your bodies, he grips his base and as you tilt up to look you moan at how big he seems even in his own large hand.

“Go slow at first. I’ve…I’ve never had someone as big as you two.”

“Shit, honey, you can’t say stuff like that.”, Steve breathily laughs as his head hangs, his damp hair tickling your face a bit. “Okay…okay, I can do that.”

Feeling extra warmth by your side, you turn to see Eddie laying on his side as he flashes you a soft smile. Biting his own lip, he watches as your face contorts and your back arches as the boy on top of you starts pushing into your core.

“It’s ok, princess. You’re ok.”

Steve’s head fell next to your opposite side and your pussy couldn’t help but clench at the sound of his whimpers in your ear. His hand suddenly smacks the floor beside you as his arm bent at the elbow. The action startled you but made his friend laugh.

“That hard, Harrington?” Your eyes meet his in confusion as he beamed down at you. “He’s trying to control himself from not just pounding into you. Your little pussy is driving him crazy.”

This confused you even more since every man you had been with never had the reaction Steve was having now. Even Ryan made it seem like you and your body were nothing special.

“Hey, hey come back, Y/N.”, Eddie cooed as he caressed your cheek with his finger.

That caused Steve to push up on his arms to look down at your face.

“Are you ok? I’m not h-hurting you or anything right?”

“No, you’re not. No one…no one has ever…made me feel like…BEING with me is anything special.”

They knew what you meant and it broke their hearts as the man inside you kissed your forehead before placing his head back where it had been by your ear.

“I’m sorry, baby. You deserve so much better then that. Your pussy should be worshipped. Fuck me. I swear, Y/N, I’ve never had anyone as tight as you. I could fucking live inside you. God… I knew it when you kissed me. You’re definitely fucking special.”

When he was fully sheathed inside you, your hands clung to his shoulders while he waited patiently for you to tell him he could move.

Your hips tested the waters as you rolled them upwards making you both moan as your eyes rolled back.

“P-Please, Steve.” Tilting up a bit, he placed his nose against yours as he slowly thrust into your body. “Fuck, I can feel you in my stomach.”

His mouth fell open as his pants warmed your face even more than the shower steam around you. As your nails scratched down his back, his pace quickened, hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly as you whimpered at the feeling.

“Steve. Harder, baby.”

Pushing up onto his knees, the man gripped your thighs for leverage as he honored your request.

“Like that, Y/N? Is he about to make you cum?”, Eddie murmured in your ear as his palm held your face. “Cum, Y/N. Let him feel what I did. Trust us, sweetheart, we know exactly what a beautiful woman coming feels like.”

Arching your back high off the tile beneath you, your vision was blinded by white as you came.

“Jesus.”, Steve growled through gritted teeth as he chased his own release.

Your lips mingled with Eddie’s as the other man leaned forward to massage your tits in his large palms before hearing him grunt above you as pumped his spend into your cunt.

After carefully pulling out of you, both men trailed kisses to your neck, tenderly sucking and nibbling at your sweet spots as your body continued to tingle with need.

“Eddie…please…”

“You don’t have to take me tonight, princess. Tonight is about you.”

“I want you.”

“Fuck me. Say that again.”

“I want you, Eddie. I need you.”

Once Steve was out of the way, the metalhead guided you around until your back was to his chest again with you both laying on your sides. On impulse, you lifted your leg and without missing a beat, he held it in place with his palm firmly gripping your thigh.

Grinding his hips, his cock ran along your pussy lips as you moaned.

“I’ll go slow too at first, ok?”

After you nod, he releases his hold on you only long enough to maneuver his length into your heat.

“Oh my god.”, you whine as your head falls into the nook of his other arm.

“I know. I know, baby. You’re—mmm—you’re doing so well. Tight little pussy is stretching out perfectly for me. Fuck.”

“Fuck me, Eddie. I-I can take it.”

Smiling, his fingers grabbed your jaw, turning you to face him so his forehead could lean on yours.

“You can take it? Are you sure?” As if to test you, he slammed his waist hard into yours hitting your now overly sensitive and abused g-spot making you whimper against his lips.

“Yeeees, baby, just like that.”

“You want it hard like that, sweetheart? Fuck, you are so fucking beautiful like this.”

While Steve did talk a bit while he was inside you, Eddie couldn’t seem to stop, whispering praises and compliments against your skin as he thrust into you. You definitely didn’t mind, wishing you could focus on anything but the pleasure to do the same.

“Stay with me, pretty girl. I need to feel you cum again and squeeze my dick.”

“Eddie…I…feels…good…”

Grinning again, he tenderly kissed your lips.

“Are you trying t-to praise me? Aw, poor baby can’t focus on words?” When you whined and nodded, his smiled grew. “Good. It’s ok, Y/N. Just focus on my cock right now. I want you to cum for me.”

Picking up his pace, you circle your arm behind you around his neck clinging to his hair till you felt your body tremble as the coil in your stomach snapped.

“God damnit! Atta girl. Feels so fucking good.”

While your pussy quivered around him, he pumped into you till you felt him warm your insides as you milked him dry.

After pulling out, the three of you laid on the floor of the shower on your back trying to catch your breathes.

“I can’t tell if I’m steamy or sweaty.”

You smirked as they both laughed at your statement.

“Either way, you smell good. Hang on.” Closing your eyes, you listened to Steve move around before jumping when you feel a washcloth between your legs. “Sorry! Sorry. I should have warned you. I’m just cleaning you.”

“I hope its ok it’s not a dirty napkin.”, Eddie sassed making you giggle as you reach over to lightly punch his arm. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

“You really ARE special. I hope you know that.”, Steve added. “And not just your body.”

You don’t say anything as they turn off the water and lead you back to the bedroom to dry you.

“Do you want your clothes or I can give you one of my shirts. According to Ryan, your stuff smells like smoke so I don’t see what difference a new shirt would make.”

“Oh. Um…I can just…wear my clothes…”, you pout as you hang your head.

As your about to turn to take the garments from Eddie’s hands, the other boy grabs your wrist as he takes a seat on his bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“No, hey, no. Not nothing. What’s running through your mind?”

Unlike with your boyfriend, when your eyes shift between theirs you don’t see annoyance but empathy. They genuinely want to make sure you’re alright.

“Do you want me to go?”

You question surprises them as they exchange a glance.

“No. God no.”, the metalhead answers as he sits on the bed as well. “Y/N, we just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. If you want to go you’re more than welcome but we’d rather you stay.”

“We don’t want you to feel how you felt when you came in here.”, Steve adds.

“I don’t feel like that. I wouldn’t feel like that if I left right now either.” They softly smile your way as they nod. “I don’t want to leave though. Not yet.”

“Aaaaare you hungry? We were going to order some food before Harrington’s ex-girlfriend flew in wreaking havoc.”

“Oh my god. Ok, we went on ONE date! One!”

“Can we get food from the restaurant you took her to. I really want to see if your restaurant choices do suck.”, you giggle as he rolls his eyes.

“I hate you both.”, Steve teases as he gets up and heads for the phone.

Eddie helps you into one of his shirts and his friend’s shorts he found nearby.

“Comfy? Good. See, princess, you’re adventurous.”, he winks as he grabs your palm in his before looking down at how they fit together. “Did you like it? Being with two people?”

With your free hand, you tilt his chin and kiss his lips.

“I liked being with you two.”

Steddie Asks

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reiding-writing · 6 months

Text

erotomania [ s.r ]

04 - confession

Summary:

The escalation of your situation was something you’d never expected to happen, and whilst it’s sure to leave you with mental scars, you’re grateful that you get a happy ending.

WARNINGS: hostage situation, mentions of guns, critical self-induced bodily harm, lots of emotions

pairing: spencer reid x gn!bau!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort, fluff

wc: 5.6k

main masterlist!!

a/n: and with that, erotomania comes to an end. a massive thank you to everyone who joined me through this series and for my irls for letting me rant to you about it all the time 😭 i hope you all enjoyed reading this series as much as i enjoyed writing it! <33

series masterlist!!

01-exhortations, 02-avoidance, 03-revelations, 04-confession

taglist (slashed blogs couldn’t be tagged):

@starzqzi @duhduck @liveitdoll @alovesongtheywrote @bumblebea-xo @wolfstar-17 @yoonglestime @summerknights @spencer-reid-obsessed @rebloggiest-reblogger @blackbeautyiloveyouso @quackie15 @holymusicalmothman @haileycannotcometothephonern @wittle-bunny420 @yeonalie @shadowsmusical @user9170557484 @takethetongue @flowersfromautumn @minhosdoormat @hpstuff244444 @idocarealot @busy-buzzing @ilikefictionalmen @bunbunblOgs @luvmgg

“The stalker isn’t Riley,” His voice sent an almost visible tremor up JJ’s back.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

JJ returned from the phone call with a small clearing of her throat, silently beckoning for you to join her in the next room over, a secret burning in her eyes.

“Is everything alright?” You tilt you head a little at her, Rachel’s hand still placed in your lap giving your leg a small squeeze, her expression feigning concern as she joined you in looking over at JJ.

“Is it Riley?” Rachel’s tone was reasonably believable, although JJ couldn’t help but notice how her expression didn’t quite reach her eyes, and equipped with her new knowledge it made her feel increasingly uneasy.

“Can you join me in the other room please?” JJ’s expression told you that whatever she had just learned over the phone was serious, and so you gave her an immediate nod as you began to push yourself up from the sofa, only to be caught by a hand on your wrist. “Wait, don't go; if this is about Riley, I want to know too."

JJ pursed her lips together, her fingers tightening around the phone in her hand as she consciously made sure to keep her voice calm and collected. “Miss Fontana, i’m afraid that what I have to say is confidential, I can’t tell you what it is.”

Rachel turned her head towards you instead, as if beckoning you to take her side over JJ’s. “I’m sorry Rachel, just give me a second alright? If it’s anything important about Riley i’ll let you know,”

Rachel, seemingly driven by an unexplainable force, grabbed your wrist tighter, your eyes locking in a moment of shared uncertainty. “No, don’t leave.”

"I understand your concern, Miss Fontana, but it's absolutely necessary for this to be a private conversation," JJ explained, her voice carrying a sense of urgency. "Trust me, it's for everyone's safety."

Rachel's grip on your wrist tightened further, her eyes searching yours for reassurance. "I don't want you to leave," she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation.

You gently begin to peel Rachel's hand off your wrist. "I need to hear what JJ has to say," you whisper, trying to convey both your care and your concern.

“No.” Rachel’s voice is stern, leaving no room for argument. As her grip on your wrist tightened, panic started to rise within you. The intensity of her desperation was overwhelming, and you couldn't understand why she was so insistent on staying.

Conflicting emotions swirled inside you - care for Rachel and concern for her safety surrounding her brother, but also a deep curiosity about the conversation JJ had just had.

The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with tension. You glanced at JJ, who stood there with a somber expression, her eyes conveying a mix of concern and determination. Her expression told you that whatever the conversation she just had was had to do with Rachel directly, and with the amount of insistence Rachel had about not leaving your side you had a feeling Rachel already knew what it was.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," you finally mustered the courage to speak, your voice trembling slightly. "But I need to know what JJ has to say. If it's about Riley, it could be crucial information for all of us." Rachel's grip on your wrist tightened even further, her eyes searching yours desperately. "Please," she whispered, her voice filled with fear and vulnerability.

Your heart ached at Rachel's words, the depth of her emotions evident in her voice. But you also couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong. JJ wouldn't have insisted on a private conversation if it wasn't of utmost importance.

Gently, yet firmly, you tried to pry Rachel's fingers off your wrist, hoping to find a compromise. "Rachel, please understand. Whatever JJ has to say, it's for our safety. I promise I'll fill you in as soon as possible."

Pain shot through your wrist as Rachel again tightened her grip, and you winced. "Rachel, you're hurting me," you pleaded, your eyes imploring her to release her grip. Despite her desperation, her actions were pushing you away rather than pulling you closer.

JJ, sensing the escalating tension, stepped forward. "Rachel, please, it will only take a minute."

The room seemed to freeze in the moment, the weight of the unspoken truth hanging heavy in the air. Rachel's eyes flickered between you and JJ, her fear of losing you from your impending conversation imminent. “She’s going to take you away from me.”

“Rachel-” The realisation seems to click in your mind from her sentence, and for a second you stop struggling against Rachel’s grip, looking at JJ as if to ask for silent confirmation, to which she replies with an extremely subtle change in her eyebrows that tells you everything you needed to know. “Please let go.”

Rachel's eyes widened, a mix of shock and desperation colouring her features. "No, you can't trust her. She's trying to tear us apart," she declared, her voice cracking with emotion.

The room became a battleground of conflicting emotions, and JJ's gaze remained steady, unwavering. "Rachel, I understand this is difficult, but you need to let them go. We need to talk."

Tears welled up in Rachel's eyes as she clung tighter to your wrist, a mixture of fear and possessiveness. "You're mine, don't let her take you away," she pleaded, her voice now a desperate whisper.

The atmosphere grew even more charged, and JJ, realising the severity of the situation, took a step closer. "I won't take them away from you, Rachel. But we need to address what I just found out."

The room's tension reached a breaking point as Rachel, overwhelmed by her emotions, fumbled her free hand around in the pocket of her florist’s apron to find something to stop JJ from approaching any further.

The air thickened, and suddenly, pruners meant for gardening found themselves repurposed as an unexpected weapon, amplifying the ominous atmosphere as she held them threateningly not towards JJ, but towards you.

Rachel’s eyes, filled with a mix of fear and defiance, bore into JJ's as she held the metallic tip of the pruners against the side of your neck, tugging on your arm until you were rendered defenceless by your position. "You're not taking them away. I won't let you,"

She raised her voice, a sense of determination in her tone as she didn’t dare break eye contact with JJ.

“I’m not going to take them away from you Rachel, I just need you to calm down for me alright?” JJ stopped in her tracks, putting her hands up to show that she wasn’t a threat to Rachel in any way shape or form.

“You don’t understand! We’re in love!” Rachel’s hand tremors as she holds the pruners against your neck, the metal cold against your skin and the pressure almost unbearable.

“Rachel-” Your voice is quiet and passive as you try to gain her attention.

“You weren’t there, you don’t know anything!” Rachel continues to raise her voice until she’s practically shouting, working herself up with her own emotions. “You didn’t see how they looked at me when we talked for the first time…”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

There’s a soft ring of a bell as you push open the wooden door of the shop, clearly hung up by hand by someone with less than professional engineering skills if you consider its lopsidedness.

The rest of the shop has that same DIY feel, with mismatched shelves and coloured panes of glass in the windows that shrouded the shop’s interior with bright colours. You’d planned on checking out the Fontana Flower Shop as soon as you’d moved in, but given how long it took you to actually unpack, your visit had been delayed almost two whole months.

“Hello sweetheart, how can we help you today?” Your attention is pulled away from the kaleidoscope of colours by a sweet voice, and you turn slightly, matching it to the smiling face of a woman looking to be in her mid-fifties, a woman you assume is the owner of the shop, half-busy preparing an ornate bouquet.

“Hi, I just recently moved into the area so I just wanted to have a look around,” You give the woman a soft smile, stuffing your hands in your pockets to alleviate the mild social awkwardness flooding your subconscious.

“Ah of course, feel free to have a look around dear, if you need any help my daughter Rachel is just around the corner,” The lady gives you a soft smile as she gestures towards a back area of the shop.

“Thank you very much,” You return her smile with one of your own as you browse the shop.

The delicate scent of various flowers envelopes you as you wander through the charming chaos of the shop. Everything about it had that homemade feel that immediately made you feel secure.

You notice a arrangement of daisies and sunflowers on one shelf, next to an assortment of potted succulents in whimsical containers. The vibrant hues and unique pairings make the shop feel like a hidden gem.

As you explore, a young woman with a warm smile emerges from the back, although you can’t help but notice how it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

You internally punch yourself for subconsciously behaviourally analysing somebody you’ve never met, but you don’t really have time to dwell on it before she speaks.

"Hi there, I'm Rachel. Anything specific you're looking for, or just enjoying the floral wonders?" She asks, her enthusiasm infectious if not slightly forced.

"I'm just taking it all in for now. This place is fantastic.” You give Rachel a polite smile as you scan the back area of the shop, considering taking home an arrangement for yourself. “Do you have any recommendations for a flower that symbolises new beginnings?"

Rachel's eyes light up. "Absolutely! How about our white roses? They signify purity and new starts. Plus, they're simply stunning. I can put together a lovely arrangement for you if you'd like."

Intrigued, you agree, and Rachel skilfully weaves together a bouquet, adding delicate baby's breath and a touch of greenery.

As she hands you the bouquet and leads you to the main counter to pay, you find yourself again studying her expression. Her happiness seems real, but there’s something underneath that’s stopping it from truly genuine.

“All done! Thanks for choosing us for your flowers,” Rachel hands you the paper receipt, and you exchange it for one of the perfectly pruned white roses from your bouquet.

“What’s this for?” She hesitates to take the rose from you, but with a small prompting with your hand she does.

“I uh- work with the FBI, I didn’t mean to profile you but your eyes are telling me something has been bothering you,” You let out a small laugh of exasperation, feeling mildly stupid. “I mean you’re around flowers all day everyday so it’s probably stupid but you know, small acts of kindness and all that,”

You shrug your shoulders with a half awkward smile as you begin walking towards the exit of the shop, flowers in hand. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thank you…” Rachel’s expression grows increasingly thankful, and that small shadow of negativity seems to leave her eyes for a second, replaced by a small glimmer of something new.

Grateful for the welcoming atmosphere, you leave the shop with a newfound appreciation for the art of floristry and a symbol of new beginnings cradled in your arms, unaware of Rachel’s lingering gaze as she twirls the rose between her hands.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Come on!” Morgan hit his hands against the steering wheel, pressing the heel of his hand into the horn as if the noise was going to magically make all of the early evening traffic disappear.

Morgan had rushed out of the office as soon as Hotch had gotten off the phone with JJ saying Rachel was inside your house, leaving the rest of the team to catch up. He’d been too late to stop Spencer being injured. He was not about to be too late to save you from the same fate.

Morgan gritted his teeth, frustration mounting with every passing second. The traffic seemed to conspire against him, a gridlock of metal and concrete testing his patience. He glanced at the clock, each ticking second amplifying the urgency of the situation.

His mind raced through different routes, contemplating shortcuts and detours that might shave off precious minutes. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, Morgan made a split-second decision, swerving into a side street, determined to outsmart the congested main road.

The narrow lanes proved no less forgiving, but Morgan navigated them quickly nonetheless. He cursed under his breath, simultaneously praying that the team was already on the scene, managing the crisis until his arrival.

As the city lights blurred by, Morgan's focus remained unwavering. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly when he spotted the familiar silhouette of your house in the distance. His foot pressed harder on the gas pedal, determination overriding any lingering exhaustion.

He came to a screeching halt outside of your driveway, un-holstering his gun before he even got out of the SUV, not bothering to lock it behind him as he ran towards your front door.

He pushed it open with his left hand, his heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and adrenaline. He entered the house with his gun raised to his eyes as he traversed your hallway down towards the sound of JJ’s voice, desperately trying to diffuse the situation.

“Rachel, please put the pruners down, no one is trying to take them from you,” Morgan edged his head around the corner, watching as JJ attempted to approach Rachel with both hands raised in front of her. “Let’s all just calm down okay?”

Rachel's eyes were wild, and the pruners in her hands gleamed ominously under the overhead lighting as they pressed into the skin of your neck. Morgan's instincts kicked into high gear as he assessed the situation. He moved cautiously, maintaining a firm grip on his gun while attempting to keep the tone of his voice steady.

"Rachel," Morgan spoke with authority, his eyes locking onto hers. "Put the pruners down, and we can talk about what's going on. No one wants to hurt you."

JJ shot Morgan a quick glance, grateful for his arrival but also conveying the urgency of the situation. Rachel, caught between distress and anger, seemed momentarily frozen, the tension in the room palpable. “Don’t come any closer!”

Morgan's mind raced through strategies to de-escalate the situation. He took a step closer, trying to establish a connection. "Rachel, I know things might feel overwhelming right now, but we can figure this out together. Just let go of the pruners."

“Rachel, please…” You try to build off of Morgan’s approach. “Please don’t do this,”

The air in the room hung heavy with uncertainty as Morgan continued to inch closer, his eyes never leaving Rachel's. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, but his expression remained steadfast, projecting a blend of authority and empathy.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Rachel," Morgan's voice softened, a deliberate attempt to soothe the tension. "We want to help. Let's put those pruners down, and we can talk."

JJ, still cautiously positioned nearby, kept a watchful eye on both Morgan and Rachel. The seconds ticked by, each one intensifying the urgency of the situation. Rachel's breathing seemed erratic, caught in a struggle between the grip of fear and the turmoil within her. “You’re going to take them away-“

Morgan noticed a flicker of doubt in Rachel's eyes. It was a small crack in the facade of her distress. Capitalising on that vulnerability, he continued, shaking his head to invalidate what she was saying. "Put the pruners down."

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Rachel's grip on the pruners began to loosen. The metallic blades lowered, creating a moment of collective relief. Morgan seized this opportunity, his approach deliberate but cautious.

"That's it," Morgan encouraged, maintaining a reassuring tone as he lowered his gun in tandem with her, holding out his left hand cautiously towards you. "Let’s just take a step back and calm down."

As Morgan closed the remaining distance, he took your hand, pulling you away from Rachel to stand behind him, where JJ soon joined you to check that you were okay.

“You’re not in love with me are you?” Rachel spoke to you as if Morgan and JJ didn’t exist, her eyes glistening with fresh tears.

You met Rachel's gaze, your voice calm but firm, although slightly betrayed by the shaking of your hand as your body came down from the adrenaline rush. "Rachel, this isn't about that. I care about you, and I want to make sure you're okay. Let's talk, and we can figure things out together."

“You’re not going to want to be with me after this-“ The tears began to flow down Rachel’s cheeks, gleaming softly under the overhead light.

“Rachel-“

“I should have known this was going to happen-“ Rachel takes a sharp breath in, a metallic rattling noise emerging from the pruners she was still loosely holding as her hands begin to tremor. “Why would you ever love me?”

“Rachel…”

“I was never worthy of you-“ She points the pruners at where you stand behind Morgan, and he shifts further in front of you to protect you in the case that she decides to throw them in your direction.

She doesn’t throw them at you.

It takes to long for Morgan to realise what’s going to happen before it’s already over, Rachel stumbling backwards over your coffee table with the pair of garden pruners lodged in her throat, leaving dark red stains on your carpet as her blood desperately tries to escape her body through the new hole that the pruners had created.

The only thing you can do at the sight is clasp your hand over your mouth, falling into an irregular heart rhythm as your body sends itself into fight or flight mode from the shock.

“Call an ambulance-“ Morgan rushes over to where Rachel is lying half over the coffee table, turning her over into the recovery position as JJ frantically phones for an ambulance.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The hospital hallway stretched before you as you walked towards Spencer's room, urged by JJ’s voice nagging in the back of your head over the last two days to give him some closure now the entire situation was over.

The sterile scent lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the events that unfolded with Rachel. As you approached, you noticed Riley sitting in the hallway, his eyes focused on the floor.

"Riley-" you acknowledged, a mix of apprehension and remorse in your voice.

Riley looked up, surprise evident on his face as he spoke your name.

“I am so sorry for what I put you through by assuming that you-“

“It’s alright,” Riley shakes his head softly and gives you as much of a smile as he can muster, cutting off the beginning of the inevitable ramble that you were going to go on.

"No, I accused you of stalking me, but it wasn’t you." you admitted, regret colouring your words. "I'm sorry for not realising sooner and for wrongly accusing you."

You continue through with your apology, intent on getting it out not only to make sure he knew that you were regretful, but also so you had one less thing plaguing your mind.

His expression softened, a mix of understanding and relief crossing his features. "I'm sorry I couldn't catch the signs and stop her before it escalated."

Riley paused for a second, his eyes glancing back down to the floor again. “We thought the therapy was working, I guess we were a little too optimistic…”

You both carried the weight of the situation, a shared acknowledgment of the complexities surrounding Rachel's actions. In that moment, the air between you seemed heavy with unspoken apologies and mutual understanding. “Is- Is she okay?”

"She’s going to be alright," Riley said, his voice genuine. "She had to have an emergency tracheotomy, but she’ll recover,"

“Why are you here?” Riley’s voice wasn’t at all accusatory, it was just confused. Why would you want to come to the hospital where Rachel is being treated after everything you’ve been through.

“Oh I uh- my- my friend, the one you helped me pick the flowers for-“ You awkwardly gesture with your hands as you try to explain why your here whilst at the same time figuring out how to refer to Spencer at all.

Was he your friend? Was he something else? After the way you left him a few days ago you weren’t entirely sure anymore.

“Did- Rachel, do that too?” Riley’s voice is slightly hesitant, and you can tell that he already knows the answer to his question, but you placate him with a small nod anyway, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Are you alright?”

Riley’s question catches you mildly off guard, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh of exasperation. “I’ll be fine-“

You give him a slightly pursed smile and a half-nod, trying to reassure him.

“I’m not talking about ‘will be’, i’m talking about right now, are you alright?”

Riley’s elaboration on his question stumps you, and you find yourself unable to give a response beyond an inaudible stutter.

Sensing the need for solace, Riley opened his arms towards you, and you found comfort in a heartfelt hug. It was a silent exchange of understanding, a bridge built over the tumultuous waters of recent events.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Your hand shakes as you pull open the door to Spencer’s hospital room, not entirely sure how this conversation was going to go.

"Hey Spencer…" Your voice is timid to the point where you’re not entirely sure he heard it, but the light that shines in his eyes as you step into the room is all you need to know that he’s fully aware of your presence.

Spencer speaks your name with all the softness he normally does, and it makes your heart ache.

You can’t help but think back to that moment two days ago when he opened up his heart to you and told you how he really felt about you. The moment where you turned him down and left him alone.

"How are you doing?"

Spencer asks in his normal voice, trying to sound casual. However, he can't hide the subtle note of hope in his voice.

There's a nervous tension in the air. You can tell that both of you are waiting for the other to say something.

“Morgan told me what happened, I’m glad you’re safe now,”

You don’t give him any answer short of a nod, your throat drying up as your subconscious stops you from speaking.

Spencer's trying so hard to play it cool, but you can feel the amount of emotion behind his eyes right now. The longer you stay silent, the more you can tell that Spencer's starting to get antsy.

“…are you avoiding me?”

Spencer speaks slowly, almost as if he's scared that you’ll leave him again if he were to speak out of turn.

”I've been giving you space to think about what I said. I know you do that. I know you need time to process things. So, here we are, almost three days later... and... nothing?"

You sigh softly, keeping your eyes focused on anywhere except for him.

"Please, just..." Spencer's voice trails off when he sees your face.

You can tell that Spencer isn't angry... he's anxious and afraid. His voice is full of worry.

"Say something. Anything."

Your eyes meet his for a moment, and it almost seems as though everything else in the world doesn't exist in this moment.

"Please..." Spencer's voice is quiet, desperate.

The moment your eyes make contact a tear rolls down your face, hot against the skin of your cheek.

"I missed you…"

The tears on your face seem to make him break. All the emotion he’s held back for the past few days comes pouring out of him.

“I missed you too,” Spencer says with a sniffle, “I’ve missed you so much..."

He gives you a small smile. His eyes look directly into yours, as if he’s trying to read your feelings.

"I’m so sorry-" It doesn’t take long for the dam of your emotions to break, and you begin relentlessly crying, covering the lower half of your face with your hand to muffle any sounds that might escape your mouth.

“No. No, don’t be sorry,” He gently takes your hand, holding it in both of his as he guides you to sit down on the edge of his hospital bed.

Spencer’s voice is gentle and calming, as if speaking to a child. “It’s okay to cry. There’s nothing to be sorry about... I’m right here.”

The look in Spencer’s eyes tells you everything he’s been wanting to say to you.

"I’ve hurt you so much…" The words blend together as their caught up in your stream of emotions, and you wipe the sleeve cuff of your free hand over your cheeks to attempt rid them of the streaks of tears. "…and I am so sorry-"

“Please don’t ever say that to me again.” His voice is soft and gentle that it makes you want to curl up into his arms and stay there for the rest of your life. “I promise you that you didn’t hurt me. Even when you left… I was never angry with you. I just- missed you….”

Spencer slowly takes your other hand in his, squeezing them both softly with his eyes never leaving you even for a moment.

"You’ve gone through so much because of me Spencer it’s not fair-”

“Hey, hey, stop that.” Spencer’s voice turns stern for a moment as he gently leans forward to look you in the eyes.

“I made a choice. Okay? Do you understand? I made a choice to be by your side. Nobody else made me do that, okay? Nobody.” Spencer takes a breath. The tone in his voice turns soft once more, though the sternness remains.

“So... don’t ever feel like you hurt me. Because I never felt that way. Ever."

"I just-" You let out a shaky breath through your lips, your eyes locked on where your hands are linked together "I’m sorry…"

"Hey, look at me." Spencer looks at you intently, willing you to look at him. “I would make the same choices all over again. Every. Single. Time.”

“Spence-“

"I need to tell you something."

There's a slight tinge of desperation in his voice as the words pour out of him, interrupting you once again.

"I love you. I love you so much that every moment we're apart, I swear I could die right then and there. Even hearing your name makes me... it makes me feel like I can do anything. Like I could conquer this world if I just had you by my side." Spencer's voice is almost pleading, like he can't bear the thought of you not being by his side.

"I... I just want to be with you, okay? That's all I want in the entire world. Please... I just..." Spencer pauses, taking in a deep breath to make up from the lack of air during his ramble.

Spencer's voice is more quiet when he speaks again, the intensity in his words coming in waves. "Please, just tell me how you really feel."

The desperation is still in his eyes. They seem to be searching every inch of you, almost as if he's afraid he's missing something. "I... I don't care what you say. I just need to know."

“I-“ Your body continues to tense, the words getting caught in your throat before they all seemingly spill out at once.

"I’m in love with you- i’m so in love with you that it hurts and i was so- scared that you were going to get hurt again and I didn’t want to have to live a life without you in it even if it meant just being able to see that you were okay and never be able to speak to you again-"

Spencer’s eyes fill with tears. The words that you just spoke hit him hard, and it’s almost as if he can’t believe that you finally said them out loud.

He pulls you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder and ignoring the painful ache that shot its way up his side. “I love you so much.”

His shoulders tremble as his body shakes, and the tears that were in his eyes start leaking out.

He’s crying. Spencer Reid, the most intelligent and analytical man you’ve ever met, is sobbing like a child in your arms.

"I’m so sorry it took me so long…" Your voice cracks slightly as you tangle one of your hands in the mop of his hair, using the other to hold him against you in a firm embrace, although still consciously careful of his recovering injuries. "I just wanted you to be safe…"

Spencer sniffles as he pulls himself partly out of your embrace, placing his right hand on your cheek and rubbing his thumb under your left eye, wiping it of any tears. “I know…”

Almost as soon as the words leave his mouth, Spencer's lips are pressed against yours.

His body is trembling, and he seems to be holding on to you like you’ll disappear if he lets go. He's never felt anything like this, and he's so scared he might lose this moment.

The kiss is gentle and almost hesitant as the two of you adjust to it, slightly dampened by a mix of both of your tears.

But it was everything in that moment, and you gently bring up one of your hands to mirror Spencer’s as you place it on his cheek.

Spencer’s eyes are closed, but all of his senses seem to be heightened in this moment.

He can feel the texture of your fingers on his cheek and the tears that are running down your face. He can hear your breathing and taste the coffee on your lips.

Time seems to stand still as you kiss, and Spencer tries to soak up every second of this moment.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Spencer pulls away from the kiss with a gentle sigh.

He’s breathless, looking at you with pure love in his eyes. “I love you so much,” Spencer’s eyes are full of love, joy, and gratitude.

“I’ve been so stupid,” he says with a laugh, “I’ve loved you for so long... and I just never knew how to tell you. I should have told you years ago. I can’t believe I almost lost you forever without ever telling you…”

Spencer pulls you into a tight hug, his lips pressed against your neck. “I just... I love you. That’s it. I just love you.”

"I love you too Spencer Reid… more than you could ever try to comprehend.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #erotomania #mgg #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff

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halfghostwriter · 1 year

Text

“Do Not Offer Sacrifices to the New King.”

No one knows exactly why it happened. One day, there are clear instructions on how to prepare child sacrifices to the ghost king, the next said instructions are covered in green splatters, with bold black letters across them reading “Do Not Offer Sacrifices to the New King.” The phrase was written across every single set of instructions to summon the ghost king ever written down.

Of course, there were skeptics. People who believed some rogue individual was trying to invoke the Ghost King’s wrath by not preparing a sacrifice in exchange for the summoning. It wasn’t long before the first attempt at summoning this new king.

The cultists had prepared a fine sacrifice. The previous king was known to prefer very young sacrifices, as the potential years of life stripped away equated to the amount of power the king would absorb at the child’s death. It was for this reason that they had prepared a child of a mere 6 months old, coating it in the finest jewels and fabrics, and choosing a dull yet beautiful knife to slice through the child at the king’s arrival. The old king was said to enjoy watching the life drain slowly.

As the ritual began, the leader took his place by the child, raising the knife high above his head, preparing to strike down the moment the new king’s eyes were on him. Chanting filled the room, and the sigils on the floor burned with a toxic green glow. The infant began to cry, small hiccups echoing over the sound of ice cracking that began to fill the room. A being whose figure seemed to be made of the cosmos itself began to rise from the circle, eyes closed as it towered over the room. Small tendrils seemed to drift away from it, but kept flinching back, as if actively being restrained. As the beings glowing green eyes began to open, the cult leader leaned forward, preparing to shove the knife into the child.

But he couldn’t move.

He tried to push the knife downward, but it felt as if all of his joints were suddenly fused together. He couldn’t move his body. He couldn’t even move his head. All he could move were his eyes, which locked on to the glowing green pits staring right back at him.

“How… Dare… You….”

The words shook the room, causing the infant to wail. The being, the king, flinched back, and his body began to warp into something… smaller. Younger. A child, barely entering puberty. He floated towards the sacrifice, softly shushing the child as he approached. Delicately, as if it were made of glass, he lifted the sacrifice and held it close, stroking its head as he continued making calm, soothing sounds. He did so until the wails dimmed down to mere hiccups. Once that happened, he turned his eyes to the leader.

“How. Dare. You.”

He kept his voice at a mere whisper. His tone could almost be considered pleasant, had his face not conveyed such burning hatred.

“Did you seriously not listen to my instructions? I wasn’t subtle, writing that on every single ghost king summoning in the world isn’t something just anyone can do. Are you stupid or something?”

The leader wanted to say something. Beg for mercy, plead for forgiveness, anything. But his jaw wouldn’t move. No part of his body would move. He felt cold. He glanced around the room, hoping some other cult member would see his dilemma, would speak up for him. But instead of panicked members on their knees begging for forgiveness, he only saw figures encased in ice.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

The leader’s eyes locked back on to the king’s enraged glare.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I am taking this child somewhere where they won’t be hurt. You,” the king poked a clawed finger into the left side of the leader’s chest, “are going to help spread the word. Make sure everyone knows not to offer sacrifices to me. You have a lot of influence, I’m sure you can get it done. Oh, but in case you don’t…”

Veins of warm ice began creeping up the leader’s chest, beginning from where the king was poking, down his arm, and up his face.

“There. If anyone, and I mean anyone, offers up a sacrifice as young as yours, at any point in time, those ice veins with expand and freeze you to death. After that, whoever offered up that sacrifice will take your place spreading the word. And don’t worry about your cult members, they’ll defrost within a day to help you out.”

The young king turned away, and floated back to the sigils, small infant in hand.

“You’re pretty lucky, you know. If I weren’t having such a good day, I wouldn’t have just left you off with a warning.”

And with that, the king and the infant leave through the summoning circle in the floor.

Within days, it’s known that the new king despises anyone who dares give him a sacrifice.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fic #ficlet #I should be going to sleep but I failed :D #Danny arrives back home holding a baby like ‘mom dad help what do I do’#he gets a new little sibling/heir to the ghost zone #like he’ll treat the baby like a little sibling (he’s too young to be a dad) but by ghost zone rules?#the baby was sacrificed to HIM. that’s HIS baby.

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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months

Text

Animal - A Luca Changretta/Reader One Shot Story.

It's here, besties! :D Hope you like it!

Words - 2,380

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“I want you, Luca. I want you in every single way a woman can enjoy a man. I want your mouth all over me, your hands to touch every last inch of my flesh, to paint your pleasure across me like I’m a canvas, until every colour in the palette runs into the next. I want you to fuck me until I’ve no voice left, until I’m trembling and gasping for breath, until I’m begging you to stop, but pleading with you to keep going all at once.

I want you to be rough with me, wrap my hair around your fist, fuck me brutally from behind until I gush all over your beautiful, perfect big cock. I want you to turn me over and fucking choke me on it, fuck my mouth until I gag and spit on it, making it wetter before you tell me that I’m you’re dirty little puttana and you love me for it. You know I’ll swallow every goddamned drop when you finally come for me, too.

In short, my darling, I want the kind of sex that would make half the barbarity in the Old Testament look tame. Hurry, lover. I miss you.”

The note fluttered from his grasp, a wide-eyed and very, very hard Luca lost to a sexual daze, the near ever-present toothpick in his mouth dangling from his lower lip. “Is this broad for fuckin’ real?” he whispered, wondering how in the fuck he was even meant to stand up after reading that, let alone put one foot in front of the other and then drive a car without crashing it.

Not only had you told him how heavily your want was stirred for him, you’d told him in the dirtiest, yet most poetic way he’d ever had a message conveyed to him. He isn’t sure he wouldn’t have suffered a heart attack, had you actually whispered those words in person.

He can, however, muster the strength to rise and, with trousers entirely too tight due to the colossal erection your words have left him with, walk somewhat awkwardly to the telephone.

“Is that my insatiable Italian?

“You’d be real embarrassed if it was your mother calling you right now, huh?” he drawls, rolling his toothpick over his lower lip with this tongue.

“But it isn’t, so I’m safe,” you chuckle, “So, how can I help you? I take it you found my reading material?”

“I did,” he confirms, “and how you can help me is getting over here right fuckin’ now. I’ll send a driver.” He hangs up before you can confirm your presence, knowing that just by the sultry tone of his voice, he’s tightly wound, and a tightly wound Luca is never worth missing out on.

After all, watching him unravel is half the fun of doing the tight winding in the first place.

Upon your arrival, you find him reclined on the sofa, long, lean legs spread, a hand rested to his thigh, index finger pointing very deliberately at the giver of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever received.

“You called?”

“And you wrote, didn’t you?” he smirks, looking you up and down. Oh, you’re in trouble now, the absinthe green glint of his eyes conveying a weight that should topple your nerves, yet it only serves to electrify. “Yeah, doll. I’m only surprised the paper didn’t fuckin’ catch fire.”

Lifting your chin, your grin is all self-satisfied accomplishment, knowing that you've stirred the beast in him. It only ever prowls just below the surface, though, awakened at a moment's notice. “So, now I’m here?”

He rises from the sofa, sauntering to you while reaching into his pocket, the press of his thumb releasing the long, sharp blade, the flick knife brandished. “Now the fun begins, baby.” Reaching you, his hand grasps your jaw, fingertips indenting your flesh, the precursor to a slow, sumptuous glide over your anticipation-riddled skin. Clutching your dress, he brings the knife up, slicing into the fabric, his hands grasping to literally tear it open.

The sound runs sharp beneath your skin, sends flint strikes through your blood, the cold of the blade dragged into your cleavage before he cuts your bra from you, your undies next on the path of destruction. Stepping from your shoes, the floorboards beneath your feet feel cool in contrast to the inferno of his stare, Luca casting the knife aside, his long arms snaking around you as he puckers a searing kiss to your sternum, descending slowly as he drops down to kneel before you.

“La mia dea,” he whispers, pressing a kiss upon your pubic mound, hands smoothing down deftly over every rise and fall of your body. “You should know you’re the only woman in the world I’d gladly fall to my knees for.” Lifting your thigh to rest over his shoulder, he runs his tongue up it in a in a languid glide, teeth closing in a sharp bite. “But that don’t mean I’ll fuckin’ go easy on you, though.”

You’d expect nothing less.

Letting the heat of his breath flutter over your sex, he teases you with the promise, tongue touching his top lip momentarily as he leaves you teetering on anticipation. He strikes like a viper, mouth wrapping around your slit and sucking with a hungry grunt, knocking the breath from your lungs. His hands glide down your back, resting on your bum, squeezing the rounded orbs in his big hands as the flat of his tongue seeks the pearl of your clit, beginning to work in a side-to-side beat.

The fever he evokes rises like a summer storm, a swirling tempest of wet dragging against you, his piercing, green stare defying you to look away as your mouth drops open, a shrill cry shattering the silence of the room. Your hands move, one reaching to grip his arm, the other sliding into the silken raven of his hair, grasping, tugging hard as your hips begin to weave against the relentless beat of a very hot, very eager tongue.

He has you clasped hard, but balanced upon one leg you feel precarious already, teetering, the pleasure beginning to throb strongly through your core, a grunting rumble from your lover causing a fierce prickle to jab against your insides. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted, getting to feel this pretty little cunt drip all over my tongue.”

His hands continue to knead at you as his tongue drags down, pushing against your streaming little hole, the hook of his nose rubbing over your clit as he tongue fucks you with aplomb. A hail of pain meets your skin deliciously when he releases his grasp, hitting the round of your bum with a spank so hard, your eyes water. Another and he has you mewling, a third and you’re crying out in rapture, the honey of your cunt flooding his mouth, Luca licking your slow and firm back to your clit, wrapping the throbbing little bud in a hard, unrelenting suck.

Your stance falters, and his hands clench at you, arms tensing as he keeps you upright. He might be skinny and lithe, but lord, he’s deceptively strong. He pulls you against the ferocity of his mouth further, tongue working you harder, meeting your gaze with a wink that sets the sparks in your belly to burn.

The heat of his mouth suffuses through to your very marrow, builds rapidly like a supernova, the black holes of his inked pupils devouring the lush green as he watches you falling apart for him, being remade around the rapid, carnal beat of his tongue. The sensation of it sends tiny arrows darting through you, a mist of heat radiating your spine as you pant, your clutch within his hair and upon his arm tightening as you rock against each lick.

“Fuck, Luca!” The words are torn jagged from your throat, chest heaving as it hits you in ceaseless waves. He groans as you trickle into his mouth, drinking the undoing from you as you cry out, every colour illuminating, throwing your head back and submitting to the never-ending inferno darting over your nerves.

He releases your leg, letting your foot return to the floor, but holds you tight in his grasp, tongue gentling before kissing his way back up your shuddering body as he rises, the taste of your orgasm on his lips making your insides quake. You reach for his waistcoat, nimble fingers hurried in your quest for his nakedness, tie and shirt following, your diligence having him bare before you speedily.

He presses a kiss to your neck, looking down at you with a mix of triumph and amusement. “Can you walk?”

“Probably not,” you confess, watching his eyebrow flutter.

“Fine,” he rumbles, making a circular motion with his long, outstretched forefinger. “Turn around and bend over.” You do as you’re instructed, anticipation ghosting your skin as you feel the heat of him behind you, Luca taking his cock and dragging it in tease over your slippery folds.

Sliding the head down to stroke over your clit, the lust tumbles through him wildly at watching your little hole spasm, pushing into you just enough to widen you, pulling out again and returning his cock to push against your bud.

He did say he wouldn’t go easy on you.

“Please, Luca,” you gasp, feeling him inch in again, no mercy given, leaving you empty once more. His hand weaves into your hair, an olive skinned, tattooed, gold adorned grasp clenching tight, pulling you flush against his chest.

“You said that you wanted me to paint my pleasure across you like you’re a canvas, but baby doll, you know better than anyone I don’t paint within the lines.” His free hand slides up your body, grasping your breast, rolling your nipple in a tight crush between his thumb and forefinger. “Beg me.”

“But...”

“Ah, ah, cara mia,” he reprimands, yanking your hair so hard, the pain sears across your scalp. “Beg.”

“Please, Luca.” Swallowing hard, your nerves buzz at the sensation of his cock sliding back and forth over your clit, keening to feel it fill your gaping hole. “Please fuck me. Please feed me every inch of that gorgeous, big cock. I need it. I need you. Please. I’m begging you.”

He pushes forth once more, a few more inches stretching you out, his cock twitching against your walls before he leaves you bereft once more. “Beg again.”

“Luca, I...”

His hand meets your bum in a ferociously hard slap. “I said beg. Again.”

Fire roars over the frost spiking at every nerve ending in your body, swallowing hard, your teeth crushing a bite upon your lower lip. “I’m begging for your cock, Luca. Please fuck me.”

Again, he sinks back in, but this time you are blessed with every last thick, delicious inch, your walls stroked by hot, veiny hardness, the grasp within your hair released. His hands come to rest upon your hips, pulling back from you, until only the head of him remains. He lets you clench upon him, teasing you wickedly, forcing a primal groan when he fills you again with a sharp thrust.

You expect him to continue in torture, but instead he gives you deliciously teasing alternation, pounding your heat rapidly one minute to slow right down the next. The thick head of his cock drags your wet plush slowly, so very, very slowly, sparks crackling, your heart thundering, his groans making your insides pulse with desire.

It’s so good and he’s so thick and hot within you that you practically sob with pleasure, slow, slow, quick, quicker, slow, agonisingly slow, so quick you feel he’s going to go through you and then back to slow again, until he has you shivering violently before him. He roots himself deep into you, pausing, feeling you flex on him with greed, spanking your already stinging backside before slowly dragging back again, the friction delicious.

He’s iron hard within your molten core, his tease giving way to speed and piledriving your slick with lethal intent, ferociously aroused. Your skin smacks together, his grunts peppering the air, drowning out the soft little cries you emit in response to this, a full-on attack to your insides. You feel as if your legs are about to give way, the timing perfect when he slips out, turning your body to throw you over his shoulder with ease, matching you to the bedroom.

You’re tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll, Luca grasping your ankles and hauling you across the mattress, plunging back into you while holding your legs high and wide, giving you not a single drop of mercy from the carnal, animalistic onslaught he delivers.

Each speedily delivered thrust has you sparking, your walls clenching around the thick heat driving into you rapaciously, his cock pumping your release into you strongly, the waves beautiful as his lightning cracks your sky, your hands gripping the bedclothes beneath. He lets you cool down, slowing within you, enjoying the way your slick muscles feel as they flutter around him.

It takes no time at all for the pace to be set to feral once more, holding your legs against his chest as he licks a circle at your ankle, marking the area he then brands with his teeth, virtually growling with incandescent arousal. His stare is broken by his eyes closing tightly, a string of swears gritted, pulling from your soaking cunt, hauling your shattered body to the edge of the bed.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth.” You do, his cock sliding between your lips, hand fisting tight into your hair and holding the back of your head firmly, hips beginning to pump against your face. “Yeah, that’s it, my dirty little puttana. Fuck, I love you.”

He fucks your mouth like he doesn’t, hard, accerbic with you, making you practically choke on his cock until with a deep, guttural groan, he’s spilling into your throat, hot white swallowed down, just as you told him you would.

“Mmmm,” you purr, after releasing his twitching cock, licking your way up to his neck, the black cross the focal point of your teeth. “If that’s what I get, I’m going to have to write to you more often.”

#luca changretta #luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #luca changretta x you #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta fic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #adrien brody

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141shousewife · 3 months

Text

You like movies? You wanna make one?

Minors DNI I WILL eat you.

ill make this another part if it does well

cw: nsfw, price x female reader, TA reader x Professor! Price, slight jealousy/arguing, filming, price x plus size reader

Johns voice echos inside of the linoleum lecture hall. You quietly listen to the scribbles of a red pen and the sound of his voice. Normally the sound from his auditorium during lectures is moderate, but today he is particularly chipper as his voice bleeds into the shared office you currently revise essays in.

"-Excellent! and what do you think the director is trying to convey with this wide frame shot?"

Your eyes continue to graze over the same words again and again: "Director" "Shot" "Film" "Cinematography" "Intention" "Audience"

You love your job, but reading first years' dull writing for over an hour and a half has your eyes and brain hurting.

Being John's TA had a lot of quirks; good pay, free snacks, and lots of academic validation that you will not expand on in front of your friends when questioned, and lastly the sharply dressed professor that lounges around and insists on your everlasting 'genius', and is admittedly fun to run your eyes over and imagine him slowl-

"ALRIGHT- that is going to wrap up our time for today, it's Friday so I don't want to keep you all. Remember to make good choices and turn in your makeups by 11:59 on Sunday. Okay, get outta here."

You rest your eyes and listen to the symphony of zipping backpacks, chairs being pushed in, and the different conversations of "i gotta turn in-" or "what are you doing this weekend-" quickly zip by the door of the closed office. You take a moment to settle into your rolling chair as you hear Price sending off students warmly. His brown suede dress shoes quietly grow louder as they hit the tile close and closer to the office door.

Price's office is cushy and expansive. There is enough room for more than the desk, rug, couch, and mini-fridge fill the space a subpar amount. The two desks that occupy the warmly lit, carpeted room are positioned across the room from each other. John's desk is littered with a desk lamp, books stacked on top of each other, a desk of pens and a closed cigar case.

As you hear the him begin to answer the last few questions from students while slowly opening the office door, you gather your materials and move to the couch and sit beneath the warm throw that adorns it.

The couch dips in on itself significantly and creaks under your wide bottom as you curse it for its announcement.

"Of course- and if you have any more questions feel free to email me."

The girl that you see him talking to- the sliver of her that you can see is smaller than you and blonde, she catches her hair in between two of her fingers and leans into his personal space.

"Could I come to your office for help on my essay, this Saturday, around say 6?

Not fully understanding what she is asking, he straightens out his back in concern and responds to her in a hushed tone.

"Do you not have a device in order to submit an email? If not the library is open from 9 am to 9 pm during the weekend."

She provides even less space for him and looks up with a smile.

"No Professor, I do, I just meant if I needed some... special help"

He maintains a warm demeanor but shuts her down

" I'm afraid not- My office hours are for working and if you make a comment like that again I am at liberty to report you to the dean, so I would suggest you leave now. Have a nice weekend."

He opens the door fully to enter and shuts it behind him and the blonde pads away quietly with less of her dignity than before. He rolls his eyes as he greets you.

"You can't make this stuff up. Flirting when she hasn't even turned in her essay on time. Bold."

You speak without fully thinking; wondering why Price is acting so insulted by a conventionally good looking girl shmoozing him. As he sets his laptop and other things on his desk you speak.

"She was a pretty girl John. It's not like its such a low blow."

John turns quickly quirks his head "You can't seriously be implying I would date some...kid? one of my students? She's not my type. "

You immediately jump to defend yourself with in hindsight- a bit too much gusto.

You say while sarcastically chuckling "I wasn't saying that! and come on it's just us, she- girls like her, are everyone's type."

John steps closer to where you are sat on the couch and looks down at you with his eyes furrowed and his hands in his pockets.

"Well she's not mine."

He reaches over on top of his desk a grabs a cigar, he quietly throws a "You mind?" over his shoulder and upon you responding "You're all good." he clips his cigar and lights it.

He turns around and steps closer as puffs it and he eyes you over.

His gaze is- uncomfortably intense, in a way that makes you wanna say sorry- or maybe start stripping...

He seems to catch wind of you being in thought.

"What do you care anyway?"

You look at him to respond but nothing comes out of your mouth as he sits the cigar down and steps closer to you until he's standing over you. His legs stand interlinked with yours and brushes them.

You feel something other worldly pull your body up to stand in front of him. You stare at him breathlessly and try to ignore the cinnamon, sandalwood and cigar smoke that's making you want to rub your-

John's voice pulls you out of another depraved thought

"I can't believe you think a girl like that is my type. I date women. Grown women. "

Your voice barely sounds like your own. You barely get the words out.

" I swear that wasn't what I meant. I just thought-"

John cuts you off "I know what you thought, you thought I was going to let you have a self deprecation fest, but I'm telling you that the women I want.. don't look, talk, or think like her. I don't want girls."

"I like women. Women who look, talk, and think like you." He toys with the bottom of your skirt in a way that makes your face grow warm, his hand brushing against your thick thigh.

You start to protest immediately, " You don't need to flatter me John, I'm sorry."

John starts speaking over you in frustration, "Why is it unbelievable that I would prefer you? I'm not flattering you. I'm not a liar or someone who compliments out of pity, you know what- here"

He huffs and grabs your wrist and places your hand directly over his khaki covered hard-on and whispers

"Does that feel like pity to you?"

As you stare at him dumbfounded, John's hand reaches up and holds the base of your skull with his large hand.

All of your breath re-enters your lungs like he just jump-started your entire system.

John looks at you with mischief you cannot quite place.

"How about I help you see how good you look?"

You track his gaze towards his Nikon and immediately look at him in horror.

"You wanna record me? No. Absolutely not. I look horrible on camera and you want to film my O-face and chubbiness from a side profile? You've lost it!"

"Honey, if you don't want to film because you're uncomfortable we can forget it right now, but if this is about the way your 'chubbiness' looks then I'm telling you that I wanna see this body. On me. On video."

#john price #john price cod #john price x plus size reader #john price x reader

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ruija · 3 months

Note

Well I really love your art, may I ask how do u color? I struggle with coloring turtles and I wasn't to know how do u do that?

Hi anon! That's a very broad question, so you've given me a great excuse to ramble anything I want about my coloring, eehehehee~! This will be in two parts and I'll start with talking about my simpler coloring style.

As in, when I color characters on a white background, with a limited or light palette.

The driving force behind this style is me being lazy. My time, energy, and attention span are pretty limited, so if I want to finish anything, I gotta do it fast. And with fanart, I'm usually just doing it for fun and relaxation, so there's no need to push myself to polish it too much.

Despite that, I rarely post just black and white sketches or line arts. I always try to add at least a little bit of toning or shading, because that makes the image easier to read. The characters and their shapes pop out and catch the eye of the viewer better.

However, in this particular example, just the couple toning colors don't quite do the job. The way Don and Leo are entangled makes the center area of this illustration very busy and hard to read.

As a comparison; this pic has only one tone + mask colors, and it works. This is because all the characters are standing separately and their poses are very stationary and simple.

So for the Don + Leo pic, adding some shadows helps in bringing out shapes and depths. Also in general, if you don't feel like drawing BGs, it's good to at least add a shadow below the characters. It grounds them and makes them feel like they exist within a space.

Sometimes if the posing looks too complex and busy, it might just be best to color in the characters fully.

However, even if I do full flat colors, I tend to use a lighter palette. Putting characters in their neutral/default color on a white BG can look a bit jarring as if they're floating in a void. It feels less immersive and like the picture is unfinished.

Using lighter colors makes the image more cohesive, and fits the characters into the white environment a bit more naturally.

If I'm too lazy to draw a BG, I prefer using stylized and limited colors. It feels deliberate and that the whiteness is just part of the palette, whereas the character-accurate colors on white don't match as well, even if they're more pastel.

That being said, there's nothing wrong with just slapping the flat-colored characters on a white background. As you know, I do it too. I'm just exposing my 'fancy coloring style' for what it is; me being lazy, hah!

Limited and monochromatic palettes are a nice shortcut even when you do actual backgrounds. It's faster and you don't have to worry about clashing colors. And you can still convey atmosphere and mood.

Also, on the topic of conserving your time and efforts; I think it's very common among younger/less experienced artists to think that the amount of time you spend on your art piece = how good and well received that piece will be.

Which has some merit to it of course, but it can lead to putting too much effort into areas where it's not necessary. E.g. filling the piece with tons of details and clutter that don't serve an actual purpose, but rather make the image hard to read. Or doing really complicated shading for a meme/comic, where simplicity would deliver the joke better.

So whenever I'm drawing something I intend to publish, whether it's a quick doodle or a more polished piece, I try to follow these two principles: Make it easily readable and do the bare minimum that needs to be done to convey what I want to convey.

Putting time into practice is important, but if you draw for work, it's also crucial that you know how to prioritize and use your time efficiently!

Anyway, thanks for reading! In the next part I'll go into how I do my fully colored pieces, so stay tuned for that!

#tmnt #tmnt 2003 #ruija replies #drawing tutorial #art tutorial

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freelancearsonist · 2 months

Text

when the sun came up, you were looking at me

➔ Din Djarin x gn!Reader - 2.4k

➔ A bounty on your head and a bad ship wreck are just a few of the circumstances that have you questioning if you and Mando will ever be out of the woods.

➔ Rated PG-13 for curse words that are probably not canon in star wars, reader is generally able-bodied but otherwise is completely a blank slate, mando is probably ooc but we’re all a little delusional here, lots of blood, i don’t actually know how concussions work and we’re taking some broad liberties with injuries here.

➔ this is another submission to @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! (if you're reading this kel ily <3) this fic is non-linear so pls bare with me - the timeline will make more sense at the end!

You keep your head down and walk quickly, ignoring the frantic heartbeat of city noise surrounding you as your legs carry you down a dim street.

This is the last place you want to be right now. Even with your cloak’s hood drawn up around your head, you feel too exposed.

The apothecary is a very little hole-in-the-wall type place; you walk past it twice before you finally locate it. The facade looks like it’s about to crumble, and the single window is caked in a thick layer of dust. It looks like it’s been abandoned for decades, rotting with the telltale signs of neglect.

The storekeeper inside looks even worse. She’s a decrepit little woman, squat and skinny, white hair brittle and tangled. Just looking at her makes you want to slowly back away and apologize; say you have the wrong building and run away as quickly as you can.

This is the only shot you have, though; the only place that won’t immediately call the authorities when you step through the door. If you get picked up, everything is fucked.

With a deep breath, you swallow your nerves and summon Din to mind. You think of his easy, authoritative tone and you try to emulate the confidence that modulator always used to convey.

You hear the crash before it happens.

It’s unlike any sound you’ve ever heard before. A high pitched whistle in combination with the deep, metallic scrape of mechanisms working overtime.

And then you feel it. It shakes the very earth you stand on, sends tremors and shockwaves up your legs all the way to the crown of your head. Even after the ground has stopped trembling, your fingertips tingle with the sensation.

You grab a blaster and you run.

You know before you even find it that it’s Din’s ship. There’s a churning, nauseous wrench in your gut and you just know.

There’s so many thoughts swirling through your mind that it doesn’t feel like you’re thinking at all. Your body simply moves on autopilot, like you’re watching a holovid. You traipse bravely into debris and ruin, locating the crumpled remains of the cockpit.

All that beskar is a damned curse, because he blends right in amongst the crumpled and twisted metal of what used to be a functional ship. Stolen, sure, but functional all the same–and the only one either of you had.

But you push aside your anger, because he isn’t responding. You’re calling his name and shaking his chest and he’s just laying there. Not joking about you smudging his armor, not breathing a little heavier at the sound of his name on your tongue like he always does. He just lays there, limp and unresponsive, and you’ve never been more terrified in your life.

There’s smoke and everything feels hot, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, adrenaline surges through your veins and you start dragging him. More than two hundred pounds of bulky man and armor but it doesn’t matter because if he dies like this you’ll never fucking forgive him, never fucking forgive yourself.

You drag him out of the wreckage and dump him unceremoniously on the grass, and then you get really scared. He hasn’t made a single noise, hasn’t even tried to help you with his weight.

You thump a little harder than you should on his chest, desperation outweighing any logical train of thought. “Din, wake the fuck up!”

It’s the slightest of movements–just a barely discernible turn of his helmeted head–but it’s enough.

“Where are you hurt?” You beg, plead, cry. “You have to tell me where you’re hurt, I can help, but you have to tell me.”

His neck is just the littlest bit exposed, but it’s enough. You see scarlet red rivers tracing paths down corded muscle, and it makes your gut clench so hard you almost get sick right then and there.

“You have to take it off,” you whisper–your hand comes to rest at the side of his helmet, the only thing between living and dying at this point. “You have to take it off, Din, I can’t do it for you.”

His fingers twitch indecisively at his sides, and you realize with a gut-wrenching pang of fear that he might not be strong enough to do it himself.

Or, even worse: that he might rather die than show you his face.

As soon as you’re back out the door, your body tremors with a sudden wave of previously repressed anxiety. You want to break out in tears, but you can’t yet. If there’s ever a time you have to be strong, it’s now.

You tuck the bag of supplies underneath your cloak and draw the fabric tightly around your torso as you walk back down the street the way you came.

You don’t think the storekeeper alerted anyone who shouldn’t know about your presence here, but you walk as quickly as you can anyway. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

The ship is old and barely functional, but it’s the best you could scrape up on short notice. It works well enough for these little in-system supply runs, even if it does shake a little more than is comfortable when you take off and land.

After what happened to Din, you swore you would never fly again. That promise went pretty short-lived.

“You’re late. Again.”

You’re used to the deep, gravelly tone of his modulated voice by now, but that doesn’t stop the shiver that works its way down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” you say, as meek as you can sound. You set a bundle of herbs and vegetables down on the counter, hoping the offering will appease him at least a little bit. “I found a garden and–”

“And you shouldn’t be going that far alone.” His voice is firm, there’s no room for negotiation.

“Din, I–”

“Don’t. Argue.” And there’s just something about that authoritative tone that makes your traitorous heart seize in a way it shouldn’t. “You are in danger. I brought you here to protect you but I can’t if you keep running away.”

“I wasn’t ‘running away’, I just wanted to be helpful.”

But he’s not budging–not on this one. “You can’t be helpful if you’re captured or killed.”

He stands towering next to you, so solid and imposing. He sets his hands on his hips and you hate the disapproval radiating from him. More specifically, you hate that you’ve disappointed him.

Your voice sounds small, meek–you hate it. “I didn’t do it, Din.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re a galactic fugitive with a bounty on your head.”

He’s not wrong, but it makes the hairs on the back of your neck prickle defensively anyway.

“You said we were safe here. You said we could lay low here until my name is cleared and no one would find me.”

“If you follow my orders,” he adds firmly. “You’re reckless and it’s going to get you killed.”

“I’m restless!” You correct, throwing your hands up in the air. “I hate being fucking… cooped up! I want to go out, and I want to do things, and I want to be able to take care of you the way you take care of me!”

There’s a heavy moment of silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. You know as soon as the words are out of your mouth that you’ve said too much, but you don’t know how to backtrack now.

“I can take care of both of us.” His voice is so much softer and gentler, you almost think you’ve misheard him. Surely you have, because it’s only been a few weeks since he rescued you from certain death–since he decided the price of the bounty on your head wasn’t more valuable than your innocence–and he’s been a stoic enigma the whole time. Always quiet, always imposing. You’ve never been able to get a good read of what’s going on behind that visor, so you’ve always assumed there wasn’t much.

Maybe you were wrong. You so desperately want to be wrong.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, stepping a little closer. Approaching him like a wounded animal, terrified of scaring him off. “I’ll be more careful.”

And you hear it–the hitch in his breath through the modulator at your proximity. You’re closer than you’ve ever been before by choice, and he knows it.

“Good.”

He turns on his heel and retreats into the back room of the little cottage you’ve commandeered and fixed into somewhere livable, and you can do nothing but slump in defeat.

He barely gets the helmet over his ears before he passes out, but it’s enough. Your hands catch the heavy beskar before it can slide back down over his face and you pull it the rest of the way off to toss it safely out of the way.

You’ve seen little peeks of his skin before–mostly his hands when he tugs off those heavy leather gloves–and you know right away he’s too pale. His face is completely drained for color, and again you feel that uncomfortably sharp twist in your gut. But you tell it to fuck off and your hands spring into action, desperately trying to find what’s wrong.

There’s a small yet jagged piece of metal sticking out of his neck, right under where the helmet's protection ends but above where the neck of his shirt would normally sit. Just the smallest strip of exposed skin, but it’s enough. Luck wasn’t on his side today.

You have to pull it out to get a better idea of just how deep it is, but your fingers are so slick with his blood that you can’t get a good grip on it. That’s when the frustration kicks in and your eyes well with tears; your blurry vision only makes you more frustrated, until you’re helpless and sobbing into his stomach.

But you feel it–the slow, unsteady rise and fall of his chest. He’s fighting, but he needs your help. You need to get it together because you’re the only chance he has.

You take a deep, unsteady breath and wipe the blood from your hands–and then you reach for that jagged piece of metal again.

You have to sit in the cockpit of your rusty, scavenged ship for a moment to catch your breath after you land safely and in one piece. You’re not even scared of crashing, you’re scared of dying and leaving Din alone. Din, who believed you when you said you didn’t commit the murder you were charged with. Din, who took you to the safety of this mostly uninhabited planet and assured you that no one would find you. Din, who swore that he would protect you.

Din, who has yet to wake up since he fainted lifelessly in your arms.

The metal wasn’t imbedded that deep, thank the Maker. He lost a fair amount of blood over it, but not so much that he couldn’t recover, and it didn’t knick anything too important that you couldn’t stitch back up even with your unskilled hands.

It’s the concussion that worries you. You’re certain it’s not the first he’s had, but it’s definitely got to be the most severe. His skull must’ve bounced around in that damned helmet like a stray pinball. You’re able to take a small amount of comfort from the way his pupils retract when you lift his eyelids, at least, but that comfort wanes with each passing day that he doesn’t wake up.

This is your third time returning from that shady little apothecary on the next planet over, but it’s the first time his eyes have been open when you come through the door.

And for one horrible, gut-turning moment, you think he’s dead. He stares so blankly at the ceiling that you want to fall to the floor and die yourself.

But he hears you approaching, and his eyes flicker over to you. Those deep, chocolatey brown eyes that you’ve come to crave meet yours for the very first time and you start to sob with relief.

You push his back firmly against the mattress when he tries to get up, and you shake your head when his lips part around unspoken words. You just need to cry right now, so he lets you.

Everything comes up all at once–days of panic and fear, days of never knowing if you would ever hear the sound of his voice again, days of tears that you haven’t cried because you haven’t allowed yourself to. It all comes to a boiling point and spills over the edge of the pot, and poor Din just lays there and lets you cry into his chest because there’s nothing else he can do.

It takes longer than you wish it did for you to regain some composure, and when you finally pull away you’re feeling a little more than self-conscious about the very apparent display of emotion.

He must sense it, and even though his face is unreadable, he catches your hand before you can retreat too far.

“H-helmet?” He croaks, throat dry with misuse.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’ll go get it. I… I didn’t see your face, as far as this is concerned. You’re safe with me.”

But he doesn’t let go of your hand when you step to retrieve the helmet–if anything, he squeezes it tighter.

“S’okay,” he whispers hoarsely. “K-kinda… feels ni-ice.”

And it makes your heart flutter in a way it shouldn’t. That not only is he letting you see his handsome face, but he might even be enjoying it.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” you murmur as you start to remove the bandage from his neck. It’s healed down to a thin line now–the bacta’s run its course, and it’s faded to a simple scar. It could be years old if you didn’t know better. “I… I was so scared.”

“M’sorry.”

And you laugh, because it’s so ridiculous that he feels the need to apologize. It’s so ridiculous that he could think you’re upset at him for getting hurt when all you feel is pure, unadulterated relief.

He takes a deep breath and catches your hand again. “Saved me.”

“You saved me, too,” you murmur–before you can think about it, you ghost your lips in a feather-light kiss over his knuckles.

His eyes flutter shut from that minimal amount of contact, but it’s enough. He’s okay, you’re okay, and it’s enough.

➔ beta: @shakespeareanwannabe; dividers: @saradika-graphics

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percervall · 9 months

Text

one day I’ll forget about it (knowing it probably isn’t true)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader Words: 2129 Request: Carlos Sainz + boygenius - Cool About It Warnings: angst? heart break, mentions of a break up, mentions of the shitshow that is Ferrari 2022/2023

In which you're trying to be cool about it

---

The thing no one talks about when it comes to grief is that it’s not only a side effect of death. Or at least not of death in the sense of a finite ending of a person. Because when it comes to grieving the end of a relationship, there is no finite ending; There is no closure, no matter how much you talk things through and dissect the whys and hows of the ending. There is no closure, you discovered, because while you were left reeling and dealing with what felt like the loss of a limb, he moved on –moved away.

Perhaps that was something to be grateful for. Not having to see him at every event in the lives of your overlapping friend groups made it more bearable to pick up the pieces, to smooth over the jagged edges of you he left in his wake as he tore himself away. You had almost convinced yourself that you were okay, when your best friend mouths an apology as you lay eyes on him entering the pub –Carlos. You give her a tight-lipped smile to convey you are fine while you watch him walk to where your group of friends is sitting. You almost hate him then –almost being the operative word. He looks good, hair tousled as usual and dressed in jeans and a knit polo. Conveniently for you, your wine arrives and you can busy yourself with taking a sip as he greets everyone. During the rest of the evening you try your hardest to avoid interacting with him unless you really have to. Of course this leads to some funny looks from Lando, who’s become the centre of what used to be the Venn-diagram of you and Carlos and has remained a close friend after the split. I’m trying, you want to tell him, he has broken me beyond repair, but you do what you do best and hide behind the stereotypical stiff upper lip.

The text comes a couple of weeks later. Lando sends you the link to an article and the preview of it is enough to leave him on read. In hindsight you should have expected nothing less from him when your phone rings later that night; Lando is nothing if not persistent.

“Have you read it?”

“Hello to you too,” you deadpan as you settle on the couch.

“Sorry. Hi, have you read it?”

“Lando-..” you start, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“No don’t give me that,” he interrupts, “Read the article and then please ring me back. Just-.. Please?”

“..Fine.” You finish the call and click on the link. Taking a deep breath you begin reading a chronological account of the 2022 season that reads like a comedy of errors. At first you’re not sure why Lando sent you this; They won podiums, sometimes even in P1, but the further you scroll down, the more you realise just how much things have taken a turn.

“What do you want me to do with this?” you ask Lando as soon as he picks up.

“He is struggling a lot. This season is even worse. I need you to understand that he is not fine, not by a long shot. You may think that he has moved on but he hasn’t.”

“Lando, he broke up with me. I might not remember much from that time, but I distinctly remember you letting me cry into your hoodie for days on end that winter. How is this my problem?” You can’t help the bitter tone of your voice.

“Because once upon a time he had someone in his corner. This second fiddle role is gonna break him. I know he fucked up, that he broke your heart, but please I am begging you, you were the only person who could get through to him. Please help me help my friend?”

“If -and it’s a big if- I say yes, I’m only doing so because I love you.”

“I will be forever in your debt,” Lando replies and you can pick up on the desperation in his voice. Things must have gotten really bad if he offers you a carte blanche like this.

“Just-.. Get me one of Daniel’s t-shirts and a sweater and we’ll call it even.”

“We’re flying to Hungary together, why don’t you join? I’m sure he’d love to give it to you personally.” You sigh, flopping back onto the couch and as you stare up at the ceiling, you agree to his plan. A part of you wonders whether you’re just a glutton for punishment. Who’s to say Carlos even wants you there? Only one way to find out, you think and drag yourself to your bedroom to start packing.

The flight to the Hungarian Grand Prix goes by a lot quicker than you had anticipated. It helps that you haven’t seen Daniel for months and the two of you have a lot of catching up to do. For a moment you forget why you’re even at the track in the first place when you keep being stopped by the other drivers on the grid for a quick chat, but that all comes to a screeching halt when Charles spots you.

“Oh thank God,” he breathes and pretty much sags into your arms as he hugs you. You have no time to respond or ask questions before he leads you to Ferrari hospitality, Lando in tow. As you sit outside, sipping your coffee, Charles tells you just how messed up things have gotten at Ferrari, how while Charles is fortunate to have the entire force of the Tifosi behind him, Carlos doesn’t share that same protection. You can see the pain in his eyes at not being able to fulfil his godfather’s dreams and the weight of that on his shoulders.

“I have tried everything, but he has shut me out completely. Will you please talk to him?”

“Charles, why do you think he will listen to me? I-.. I am no longer part of his life, he made sure of that,” you all but whisper.

“Because he is still in love with you,” Charles says and it feels like someone has pulled the rug out from under you.

“It’s true,” Lando offers, “Not a month has gone by where he hasn’t asked me how you were. I get that you don’t believe us. Hell, I wouldn’t believe it either if I were you.” You stare into your coffee cup, swirling the dregs of your espresso around not too dissimilar to how their words are swirling around in your head.

“Please, just-.. Please, will you try and talk to him?” Charles asks you again, desperation evident in his voice and eyes when you finally look up at him. You don’t trust yourself to speak, so all you can do is nod. Relief floods both their faces and you brace yourself a little to see him again for the first time in months. Charles leads you upstairs to the driver rooms, leaving Lando behind who promises he’ll wait for you. Rupert and Caco are seated on the same floor, both shooting you a hopeful look as you pass them on your way to Carlos’ room. Charles knocks quietly, pushing the door open ever so slightly.

“Not now,” Carlos bites back.

“Mate?” Charles calls out in the hopes he will turn around. Whatever insult Carlos was about to hurl his teammate’s way, dies on his lips when he sees you in the door opening.

“Hey,” you offer quietly. Charles whispers that he’ll be downstairs if you need him, squeezing your arm as he leaves you behind. Carlos can’t stop staring at you, mouth slightly agape and eyes round.

“Hey,” he finally manages as you step into the room, sliding the door closed behind you and leaning against it.

“What-.. How-..?” he tries to ask, struggling to get a coherent sentence out.

“Lando. He’s worried about you. So’s Charles. I’m a last resort apparently,” you try to joke, but the nerves make it impossible for you to keep your tone teasing. Carlos sighs and slumps down on a chair as he mulls this over. It allows you a moment to look at him, to really look at him. His hair is a mess, which is not uncommon for him, but you can tell he has been running his hands through it in frustration. His stubble is slowly edging towards unkempt rather than rugged, and there’s a sadness and exhaustion in his eyes that makes you ache for him.

“Carlos..” you start, stuffing your hands in your pockets to refrain yourself from reaching out to him. He looks up at you, tears threatening to spill.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice breaking, “I’m sorry. I hurt you and pushed you away and I am so sorry.”

“Why?” you whisper.

“I thought-.. I thought that it would be for the best. When the call came that Ferrari wanted me, I was so excited but I could never ask you to give up everything for me. So I figured this was for the best, that letting you go was for the best. God, was I wrong…” Carlos all but whispers that last part but the pain is tangible.

“We could’ve made it work. Had you talked to me, we could’ve figured out a solution. You didn’t have to do this all on your own.” You want to be angry at him, unleash the heartache you’ve had to bottle up for the last three years, but instead your heart breaks for the man you once loved –the man you still love, despite it all.

“I never stopped caring about you,” you say, not daring to look at him out of fear of seeing any ounce of hope in those brown eyes that once offered you so much solace, “I probably also didn’t stop loving you which made it so much harder to see you out there, living your dream while I was left with a gaping hole in my chest. Seeing you at the pub that night made it so much worse. You seemed so confident, so carefree, whereas I had barely managed to put my heart back together only for it to fall apart all over again. I’m not saying I forgive you, but I understand now, or at least somewhat understand why you thought you had to do what you did. It will take time for us to figure out where we stand, but in the meantime I can at least offer you friendship. I’ll be here all weekend, you have Lando to thank for that. If you need someone to talk to outside of this circus, I will be in the McLaren motorhome.”

“Thank you,” Carlos whispers, “I know it doesn’t fix or prove anything, but I also never stopped loving you. I have been anything but okay, guess I was just good at pretending I was. The races kept me distracted from the pain at first, but now it’s only adding to it. I don’t know how much more of this I can take…” He looks up at you, tears threatening to spill. You step closer and he allows you to pull him into a hug, face buried against your chest and arms wrapped around you, almost as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on for dear life. All his worries come tumbling out, about how he’s had to become both driver, strategist and race engineer during the weekends, how the team prioritising Charles again and again has begun to put a strain on their friendship and how the media’s commentary on said treatment is only making things so much worse since it has put both of them in a loop of damned if we do, damned if we don’t, how his dad continuously commenting on his future has made it difficult to even be in the same room as the man he once called his hero. You listen to it all, rubbing your hand up and down his back, easing the tension out of his muscles. When Carlos has run out of tears and words, you lift his face so you can look at him, brushing your thumb across his cheekbone.

“That’s a lot to carry, Carlos, but you’ve got people in your corner. I will always be in your corner, no matter what. How about you take a nap, I will still be here when you wake up and we just take it one step at a time, okay?” Carlos nods and you see the tiniest glint of hope in his eyes that is mirrored in the tiniest spark in your heart, that maybe this –all of it and any of it– is not beyond salvation just yet.

Yeah, so this kind of took on a life of its own? I don't know man, I listened to the song on repeat and started thinking about the different ways we can grief and how sometimes appearances function as a shield to deflect from how you're truly hurting and suddenly I was over 2k into a fic that was supposed to be a blurb? Oops? If you'd like even more heartache, most of this was written while listening to Bon Iver's re:stacks

Massive thanks to @moneyymaseyy for letting me talk through the plot and being my beta reader

Please, feel free to let me know what you think, your comments, tags, and likes mean the world to me 💜

#f1 fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz jr angst #mar's playlist

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