#i have been getting less than 5 hours of sleep every night for like a week

[stars-and-branches]

god save me from the dumb shit i say when hit with brain fog

[deoidesign]

Melatonin is a delicate balancing act, it took some time to find a dose that helped me fall and stay asleep without leaving me groggy after 8/10 hours. For me, that has been 10 mg gradually increased to such over a few weeks then steady since.

I also take roughly a week without it every month or two, as the bottle recommends. Listen to your body and do what you can. Good luck, and thank you for the sweet gay were/pire comic<3

Yeah, I can tell my sweet zone is somewhere between 3 and 6 mg, at least right now. Or at least I think it is. Admittedly my sleep has been absolutely horrible since I was a kid so my standards on "not tired" are pretty low, so I'm not actually sure if they're any good right now. All I know is I'm getting more than 2 hours of sleep at a time, and I'm not spending every waking moment fighting off a nap!

Thanks for the confirmation I've gotta test with it and go off and on and such, my doc didn't give me a straight answer on that (he just kept saying take it as needed... I need it every night!!!). 75% of the time being good is way better than 0% so I'll take what I can get!

And the gay comics are the least I can do 🧡 thank you for reading it!

[mimiri22-6]

You wanna know the worst thing about tomorrow for me is?

I'm gonna be at work when s2 of gomens drops. I can't even induldge and marathon the whole thing because I only get home around 1 am after a shift. And on Really bad nights, wich happen 1-2-4 nights a week? 2am. AND THEN I can't even marathon it the NEXT day because I work the next 3 days.

I want. To Die.

[sluttyten]

.

[runa-falls]

my ex’s tapes

summary: you and basil broke up, and now, you're seeing some other guy. but basil just can't get over you. and you know it.

pairing: ex!basil stitt x reader, fwb!jake lockley x reader

rating: explicit (18+)

cw: dub-con, smut, creep!basil, voyeurism, stalking tendencies, piv sex, virtual!cucking, m!masturbation, no aftercare, angst

wc: 1.5k

a/n: this fic was originally for someone else, but basil just fit the vibes so much more!! and yeah, the poll ran for less than 10 hours BUT 🤷🏻‍♀️ im impatient. y'all know me, i can't hold on to a finished draft for more than a day -- so this is this, take it or leave it.

masterlist

----

He sighs as he opens up his laptop.

It’s depressing, he’s depressing -- disgusting.

A hot veil of shame washes over him as the monitoring app automatically opens for him as he logs in. A reminder of his dirty habits. And yet, for some reason, it makes it that much hotter.

The screen brightens as the program displays the soft pinkness of your bedroom. A small smile quirks at his lips as he spots you laying prettily in your mini nightgown, sprawled out on your bed, as you idly text someone on your phone. 

A quick ping makes Basil switch programs and scan over your conversation.

Jake: be there in 5

You: ok! text me when you arrive :)

It’s like clockwork.

Every Friday he comes over, fucks you into the mattress then leaves before he can fall asleep next to you.

What a piece of shit, leaving someone like you alone at night. 

You deserve better. You deserve someone like him. Someone that will cuddle you to sleep and wake you up with a cup of coffee, or kiss every inch of your body while telling you how perfect you are.

And for a moment you did have him–but then your friends went and fucked everything up.  

Despite all the shit he did for you, you weren’t satisfied, or rather, your friends weren’t satisfied. Apparently, his idea of protection and security was overbearing and controlling. And he was being clingy because he wanted to spend time with you. They’ve been filling your mind with bullshit ever since you introduced him to them. 

Basil easily concluded that you were pressured into breaking up with him. That you aren’t really done with him–you’re just waiting for the right time to get back together. That’s his excuse as to why his cameras and safety initiatives are still in place. Because you’re still his.

A feminine giggle pulls Basil from his thoughts and back to what he was doing. He alt-tabs back to the security cameras, eyes immediately darkening at the image of you clinging onto Jake’s shoulders as he effortlessly carries you into the room.

An ugly weight pulls at his stomach when he sees you happily draped around another man. That should be him coming home to you, carrying you to your bedroom to show you his love. 

You’re plopped onto your bed with a squeak, bouncing slightly before pushing yourself up to eagerly crawl over to your hook-up. As you straddle yourself over Jake, he immediately starts to work his mouth over your topless chest. 

Basil’s hand brushes over his twitching bulge as your back arches prettily to push yourself further against Jake's lips. Encouraging gasps and sighs fill the room as he nips at your sensitive buds. Your breath quickens as a hand drags up your body to fist at your throat. He sucks harshly at your skin, leaving a pattern of faint bruises and teeth marks along your soft skin.

Your nearly naked figure moves lithely over his clothed body, already getting off on anything you can get your hands on. Basil watches hungrily as your hips roll fluidly over Jake’s lap, cunt barely covered by a flimsy pair of underwear. He pushes against his erection when he sees your blissed-out expression, imagining it’s him that’s making you this desperate. 

With a quick motion, Jake pushes you away to unbutton his pants, making sure to only push them down enough to free himself. You suck on your lip as you watch a bead of precum roll over the silken skin of his cock. You wish you could have a taste but that’s not how Jake likes it. 

Jake tilts his head as he considers you on his lap, cockily taking in the way your hungry eyes drink him in. With a light tap on your thigh, he commands you to move, “Get into position, sweetheart.” 

You climb off of him and settle yourself at the top of the bed, swiftly getting on all fours to present yourself to him. His hand grazes over your ass, clutching the softness before dipping into the heat of your center.

The soft fabric of your underwear is shoved to the side, exposing your glistening cunt to the room. Basil audibly groans as he catches a glimpse of your dripping hole, remembering how hot and tight you are. Your body is built perfectly to wrap around him. 

Jake lazily slides himself along the seam of your cunt, humming lightly as he soaks himself in your slick. “Look at this weepy pussy…”  You let out a breath as you relax your body against him, enjoying the gentle way he rocks over you. “You’re so messy for me.” Your body buzzes as his cock nudges against your clit with every stroke, fogging your mind with intoxicating pleasure. 

You don’t expect it when Jake’s hips abruptly snap up into you with one smooth motion, quickly filling you to the brim with a stinging stretch. The rough texture of his jeans chafes against the back of your thighs as his legs push harshly over you. You whine as your face is shoved into a pillow, barely allowing you a second of fresh air. 

Basil grips himself over his sweatpants as he watches your body struggle to get used to the sensation of being filled, legs shaking as you attempt to hold yourself up for him.

Jake easily ignores your trembling and immediately starts to pound into you, strategically angling himself to continuously prod against the electrifying spot inside of you. Despite the sharp sobs dripping from your lips, he knows you love it. Being treated like this. Like a toy. 

Basil strokes himself as he watches your greedy cunt swallow another man's cock, effortlessly moving back and forth with each thrust. He can feel his cock desperately throb for you as the filthy sound of your slick sopping down your thighs travels through the camera’s microphone. What he would do to taste you right now, the zingy flavor of your lust on his tongue.

Though he can’t see your face, he can tell you’re already close. It’s the way your body stiffens ever so slightly like you’re holding yourself back from reaching nirvana. He hates how your moans are muffled by the pink pillow. He craves to hear how your noises crescendo as you near the edge, how you crumble as pleasure takes over your body.

You almost feel like you might collapse from the aggressive way Jake drives into you. Jake’s calloused fingers grip bruises into your hips as he pushes and pulls you onto him, setting an unbeatable rhythm that you can barely keep up with.

Jake’s motions briefly stutter as your cunt grips around him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, barely able to process his words as he continues to fuck into you. “Mm…Your cunt flutters so–fuck–sweetly around me. You gonna cum baby?” Your legs threaten to give in as molten heat rapidly blooms in your stomach, pulling you toward your peak. 

You cry out as he begins to drive himself impossibly deeper into you, slowing down when you fail to answer him. His chest vibrates against your back as he growls behind your ear, “Too stupid to speak? I asked you a question, honey.” 

With another nudge of his hips, you sputter out a response. “A-ah, yes—I’m so close, sir.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Basil’s sweats are messily shoved halfway down his thighs as he watches your tired body move bonelessly along with each movement of Jake’s hips. The stroke of his hand moves in sync with yours, cock leaking as he grips himself tightly to conceptualize the feeling of being inside of you. 

The rawness of your climax causes your body to writhe underneath Jake and you involuntarily start pulling away from his cock as your cunt convulses with ecstasy. 

Basil’s eyes squeeze shut as he’s coaxed into his release by your soft muffled whimpers. His hand works quickly along the length of himself as he rides it out, effectively spreading his mess with his hand and on the tops of his thighs.

Jake groans as you ​​suck him in, hands shoving you further into the mattress as you’re unable to control the way your body flutters and jerks around him. With one last push, he spills into you, coating your walls in warmth before pulling out.

Basil watches as Jake steps out of the room after murmuring something about a towel, leaving you there panting in the middle of your bed.

Alone.

You slowly turn over to your back, pushing your hair out of your face as you come down from your orgasm, face thoroughly flushed from exertion. His heavy eyes admire you from afar, wishing he could join you on the bed and hold you against him. 

He takes one last glance at you before reluctantly closing the laptop. 

----

You reach upwards with your arms pulled taut and stretch your body until you feel light-headed. Though you enjoy being fucked from behind, your back is always left sore from arching so deeply. Jake is fine. Good even. But that’s it. 

You’ve tried your hardest to ignore it, but something’s been missing from your life. Or someone.

Your eyelashes shadow over your gaze as you subtly glance at the stuffed kitten on your shelf. Your heart flutters when you notice the faint red light on its collar blinking right back at you. 

He’s still there.

[loveydovey-leviathan]

can i request the Obey me brothers and/or the datables reaction to you being jealous ☺️

mc gets jealous

obey me x gn!reader

🍉 from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸. this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and/or support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. | credit 🍉

a/n: the intro is so long in comparison to what i wrote for the characters lmao

cw: the gender of the person flirting with the characters is not mentioned. they don’t leave even after he’s told them to [belphie’s part]

.

The two of you have been spending less time together lately, your personal responsibilities keeping you apart longer than they usually would. But when you realised the both of you hadn’t gone on a date in weeks, you decided to surprise them with one at a popular cafe in the human world.

Once seated at a comfortable corner, you kiss them on the cheek and tell them you’ll be right back with your orders. The trip from the counter to your seats couldn’t have taken more than 4 minutes but when you walk back, there’s a stranger at your spot next to them. By their body language, it’s clear they’re trying to snatch up your obviously irritated significant other.

Maybe it’s because today was finally a free day for the two of you, combined with not seeing them as much as you would’ve liked– but when you finally arrived at your table, you set down your orders with a little more force than necessary.

With eyes as cold as a storm as you possessively inserted yourself by your lover’s side, you asked the stranger in your seat, “Do you need something from us?”

lucifer

A smug little smirk makes its way to his handsome face when the stranger decides not to start anything and walks away.

And while a part of him doesn’t even want to wait until they’re out of earshot– the same part of him that wants to kiss you senseless in front of the many suitors you have– he refrains from doing anything too rash in public.

If he was in his demon form, his wings would ruffle from how you pridefully claimed him to be your lover in front of this “threat”. Not that anyone has the potential to be one when you’re all he ever thinks about in the late hours of the night.

When you sit down next to him once more, still obviously slightly angry after the ordeal, he gently holds your hand and presses it to his lips.

Just in case it wasn’t clear to anyone else in the cafe that the two of you are together.

“There’s no need to be jealous, my dear. I’m all yours.”

mammon

He gets a little flustered when you’re at his side but he soon gets over it and pulls you closer.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m taken. Now, scram.”

Unlike Lucifer, he doesn’t even wait until the person leaves before he gets up to kiss you (on the cheek, he can only handle so much PDA).

“Took ya long enough! Seemed like you were takin’ forever.” “I was gone 5 minutes, Mams.” “Same thing.”

He’s sweet. And needy– but that’s why you love him. Another kiss on the cheek and it seems like he’s already forgotten what happened.

He hasn’t obviously. He’s going to daydream about this for the next 4 months every night before he goes to sleep because it proves you’re just as greedy for him as he is for you.

He’ll tease you about it, of course. “You must really love me if that got ya jealous.” He’ll stop if you ask him too but he’s still going to be giddy about it.

leviathan

He’s so relieved once you’re here because he had no idea what to do. He doesn’t even realise that he’s leaning towards you.

It isn’t until the stranger leaves that he realises that he’s still extremely close to you while in a public cafe.

He instantly gets so embarrassed and wants to leave.

It doesn’t take you long to put the pieces together– so you take your orders to go and pull him outside the cafe and into a nearby park.

“S-Sorry… I know you really like that place.” Now he’s worried that you might hate him for getting embarrassed and potentially ruining the date for the two of you.

When you reassure him that it’s fine and that you can always go to some other place, he calms down enough and the situation completely dawns on him– you got jealous because you thought someone else wanted his affections (which he still isn’t completely sure of btw).

His face is flushed pink when he thinks about it. You love him enough to fight for him.

“What? Oh- uhm.. it’s nothing– just thinking about how cool you looked back in the cafe when you got jealous, hehe.” < is imagining scenarios in his head and totally planning on telling Henry 2.0 about this exciting development in your relationship.

satan

He was about to commit a crime right before you came along.

Usually, he would be better at keeping his anger in check but this is your first date in a while and he’s not about to have some rando ruin it for the two of you.

“Leave.” is all he says to them with a glare sharper than Asmo’s heels.

He calms down as soon as he sees you seated next to him once more.

“They’re lucky you came when you did. The absolute nerve of some people–” he shuts up once you kiss him on the cheek.

While the two of you eat your food, he realises that your actions may have been caused by a spur of jealousy. He’s quick to tease you about it.

“Was somebody jealous? Well, now you know how I feel whenever one of my brothers take you away.”

He thinks you’re so cute when you’re jealous, but he refrains from teasing too much lest you lightly make fun of him when he’s green with envy.

asmodeus

Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loves attention– but not at the expense of the two of you spending time together.

As soon as you’re next to him, he stands up and pulls you even closer than you already were.

“Ugh, MC~ where were you? I was so bored.”

He’s acting all whiny and needy, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and completely ignoring the other person.

It’s not long before they turn red in the face and storm out of the cafe.

“Finally, they’re gone,” he complains, checking underneath his nails like he was afraid some of their filth might have latched itself to him.

“You’re adorable when you’re jealous, have I told you that?” 

He’s so quick to tease, even though he’s 100x worse when he’s jealous.

Somehow, he’s even more clingy the rest of the date. He's holding your hand, kissing your cheek, pulling you close to him the entire time– his own way of telling you and everyone else that he’s yours and you’re his.

beelzebub

He’s pretty clueless as to what’s happening and what the stranger’s intentions are– but when you come along, his passive face instantly lights up with a smile.

He is so in love with you, that you’d have to be blind to not see the way he looks at you, like your presence alone makes his heart full.

The stranger realises that they didn’t have a chance from the beginning, and Beel doesn’t even notice them leaving.

He notices that you seem angry at something, so he gently takes your hand and seats you beside him again– handing the slightly ruined food to you.

“You look angry. You should eat, it’ll make you feel better.”

He was right, it did make you feel better. Along with him happily eating all the orders you got him.

He won’t bring up the stranger unless you bring it up, but if you do, he’ll just shrug.

“Them? I don’t know, they just came up to me and sat on our table. I don’t mind when people do that but they were interrupting our date. I didn’t want to get angry and make a scene.”

belphegor

Belphie is spoiled. And he is tired.

When someone comes and sits on your seat, trying to flirt when the two of you came in together– he is instantly pissed off.

He wants nothing more than to “make” them leave, but he can’t (at least not in the way he wants to). So he just decides to be upfront instead.

“Do you mind? That seat is taken by my s/o– the one who walked in with me, in case I need to remind you.”

When they still don’t leave, he’s very seriously considering putting a curse on them.

But before he starts the incantation, you arrive in an equally bad mood.

Recognising that it’s two against one, they roll their eyes and leave, muttering something under their breath all the way.

“That was so tiring…” < (he spoke three sentences)

If you offer to go home, he refuses, saying that you both planned this already.

“I’ll try my best to stay awake but I can’t guarantee it. When we get back home, you owe me a nap.”

The sly little bitch managed to turn the whole thing in his favour.

[redroomreflections]

II HANDS II HEAVEN 3

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

3/5 (even though we know it's more than likely this will be longer)

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

Word Count: 3.8k words

Natasha's eyes fluttered open, her body drenched in a hot sweat. A dull ache pulsed through her left shoulder as she instinctively reached out to the headboard for support. Rubbing her shoulder, she squinted at the dim glow of the old alarm clock resting on the nightstand between the double beds. The numbers indicated it was just 11 pm—she hadn't been asleep for long.

As Natasha tried to shake off the grogginess of sleep, she realized something felt off. The hot sweat clinging to her skin and the soreness in her shoulder give her an uneasy feeling. She leaned over in bed, adjusting her eyes to the nightlight to see your covers were thrown back with no sight of you at all. Interesting. She figured you couldn’t have gone too far. You didn’t need a babysitter or someone watching over your shoulder. You’re a skilled spy just as she is. There was no need for her to worry. 

With a sigh, Natasha swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, running a hand through her damp hair. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep easily now, not with that nagging feeling gnawing at her mind. She decided to get up, maybe a glass of water or a short walk around the building would help clear her head.

But as she stood, her gaze fell on the window. Her curiosity got the best of her as she moved closer to the window. She noticed a small figure seated by the poolside, an unusual sight considering it was late at night and the pool area was closed. Squinting, Natasha observed an even smaller flicker of light coming from the person's lips—a cigarette. It’s you. How long had you been down there?

—-----------------

The peacefulness of the night enveloped you as you sat by the pool, the soft glow of the pool lights casting eerie shadows that distorted the shapes of the surroundings. With one hand propped on your knee, you idly kicked your toes into the water, feeling the gentle waves ripple beneath your feet. The pull of the cigarette between your lips offered a momentary calm as your mind wandered.

Thoughts swirled in your head—about the mission, about your time as an Avenger, about the mysterious meaning of life's purpose.

"Couldn't sleep?" Natasha's voice broke the silence as she approached, her footsteps barely audible except for the faint shuffle of her flip-flops against the damp concrete.

"Nah, I don't usually," You replied, exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air as you took another puff of the cigarette. Tilting your head back, you watched as the smoke dispersed in the wind.

"Did I wake you when I left?" You asked. You pressed the cigarette into the concrete before twirling it in your hands. 

“No,” Natasha said. 

"Good," You nodded, acknowledging Natasha's unspoken disapproval at the sight and smell of the cigarette. "Don't worry, I threw the pack away," you reassured her, hoping to alleviate any concerns she might have about your habits. 

Natasha offered a small, understanding smile. "Thanks," she said softly, appreciating the gesture. Despite her reservations about the habit, she knew you were making an effort, and that meant a lot to her. At least she knew she could trust you to be professional about this mission. 

“I’ve been on missions before,” You confessed quietly. 

"I know," Natasha replied, her tone gentle yet firm. "But that doesn't mean it's easy every time. We all have our ways of coping." 

“Why are you being so cool all of a sudden?” You turned to her with suspicious eyes. “Less than eight hours ago you practically hated my guts. You’ve barely even looked my way the past three months.”

Natasha sighed, her expression softening. "I know, and I'm sorry," she admitted, meeting your gaze with honesty. "Sometimes it takes a wake-up call to realize we need to set aside differences and support each other. We're a team, after all." She paused, searching for the right words. "I guess I just realized that life's too short for grudges, especially in our line of work."

“Grudges are what fuel me,” You shrugged. “I have a few people on my list that certainly deserve that.” 

Natasha nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I get it," she replied. 

Natasha settled herself beside you, maintaining a comfortable distance, yet close enough to feel the subtle ripples of the water as she dipped her feet in. There was a quiet understanding between you, as neither of you had anything left to say. 

“My favorite position is cowgirl,” You suddenly said. “Not for me for the other person.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the unexpected comment, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. She chuckled softly before replying, "Well, that's certainly... a candid confession." She shook her head with a playful grin. "I'll remember that, though I'm not sure it's pertinent to our current situation."

“It is,” You glanced over at her. “We’ll probably be one of the only lesbian couples. Which means weird fetishizations and probing questions. Maybe even a game of truth or drink. Adults at resorts are unhinged.” 

"You might have a point there," She conceded. “Give me the rundown on the dossier.”

You took a deep breath before launching into the details of the dossier. "Alright," you begin, "Shady Corners, as the name suggests, is a high-end resort nestled just outside of Miami in the Bay Harbor Islands. It’s owned by, Ilanka and Maxim Belinsky, it's known for catering to the elite, offering luxurious amenities and discreet services."

You leaned in closer, your voice lowering as you delved into the more clandestine aspects. "There’s a darker side to Shady Corners which is the entire reason for us. Rumors about the Belinskys' involvement in illicit activities, from money laundering to connections with underground cartels."

"Apparently," you continue, "guests have reported strange occurrences in the resort's secluded corners—mysterious meetings, people disappearing, and several break-ins, all hushed up by the Belinskys themselves. Couples keep checking in since it’s such a popular destination with a history behind it."

Natasha listened intently, her eyes narrowing as she took in the information. "Sounds like we've got our work cut out for us," she remarked. 

“Indeed we do,” You sighed. “We should get some sleep.” 

“I’m fine with staying here a little while longer.” 

You nodded in understanding. "Alright," you replied. 

Hour 12 

A few short hours later, you found yourselves back on the road, with you taking the wheel this time. Natasha's unease was noticeable as you bobbed and weaved through the traffic, your driving style more assertive than she was used to. With each swift maneuver to pass SUVs and trailers, Natasha's grip tightened on the door handle, her knuckles turning white with tension. 

You couldn't help but notice her discomfort, and though you tried to reassure her that you had everything under control, her nerves seemed to get the better of her. 

“Do you understand speed limits?” She tersely asked as you stepped on the pedal a bit harder. 

You glanced over at Natasha, noticing the edge in her tone as she asked about speed limits. Despite her brevity, you couldn't help but feel amusement at her concern. "Of course I do," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as you stepped on the pedal a bit harder. "But sometimes, you just gotta keep up with the flow of traffic, you know?" 

Natasha's grip on the door handle tightened even more, and she shot you a disapproving look. "That's not an excuse to break the law," she retorted, her voice filled with frustration. "We have to be responsible drivers, especially on long trips like this."

You rolled your eyes, feeling a bit annoyed by her lecturing. "Relax, Natasha," You said "We'll get there in one piece, I promise." 

“I would like to live to see thirty,” Natasha commented, tightening her seatbelt around her midsection. 

“No way you’re being truthful about your age right now,” You flicked on your indicator, laying on the horn for the driver in front of you as they moved at a turtle’s pace. 

You could sense Natasha's annoyance as she defended her age, her frown deepening. "I'm twenty-nine," She stated firmly. "Do I need to show you a birth certificate to confirm that? What makes you think I'm older?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips. "Relax, Natasha," You teased. "I was just saying, you seem a bit uptight for someone your age. But hey, maybe that's just part of your charm." 

Natasha rolled her eyes, unamused by your comment. "Gee, thanks," she muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. It was clear she wasn't in the mood for jokes. “I’m far from uptight.”

You furrowed your brow, considering her words for a moment. "Well, since you're so sure, let's take a little trip down memory lane, shall we?" you challenged. 

"Remember when we missed that turnoff and you practically had a meltdown?" you began, counting off on your fingers. "Or how about when I accidentally spilled coffee on the map and you acted like it was the end of the world? It is crazy that we’re using a map anyway when there’s a perfectly good GPS right here on the dashboard. Unless you’re testing me. I thought you trusted that I was a good spy."

“Trust is a strong word,” Natasha shook her head. “What’s that training like anyway? Coming through a government agency.” 

"It's... intense," You replied, your tone guarded as you skirted around the topic. "But it's nothing like the Red Room if that's what you're thinking."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, not wanting to delve too deep into your past. The memories of your training were still fresh in your mind, and you preferred not to think about them. "Let's just say it involves a lot of rigorous training and a fair share of close calls," you added cryptically, hoping to steer the conversation away from your own experiences.

“A close enough call to have a four-inch scar on your back?” Natasha tilted her head. 

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by Natasha's astute observation. "Well, you've got quite the eye for detail," you replied with a forced chuckle, trying to deflect her question. You shifted in your seat, a hint of discomfort creeping into your expression. "Unless you’re also ready to discuss the scars you have too?” 

“Touche’,” Natasha sighed. 

You raised an eyebrow, shifting the focus of the conversation with a swift change of topic. "So are you and Rogers a thing?" you asked, a sly grin spreading across your face. If there was going to be anyone in the hot seat, it needed to be her. It was about time you made the Black Widow uncomfortable.

Natasha's expression remained neutral. She paused for a moment, considering her response carefully before replying, "Steve and I have a professional relationship, nothing more."

You pressed on, determined to push her buttons. "Sure, sure," you teased, leaning in slightly. "But I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more there."

Natasha's facade faltered for just a moment, a little bit of frustration crossing her features before she quickly regained her composure. "Believe what you want," she replied coolly, her tone leaving no room for further discussion on the matter. 

“Come on, it’s okay to say you’ve tapped that,” You egged her on. “Stop being so prissy for a second. It’s unbecoming.” 

Natasha's jaw tensed as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at your persistence. "I don't see how my personal life is any of your business," she replied sharply, her tone tinged with irritation. "And I certainly don't appreciate your crude insinuations."

You could sense her growing frustration, but you pressed on, determined to get a rise out of her. "Oh, come on, lighten up," you teased, leaning in closer. "It's not like anyone would blame you for going for the Captain. He's like the poster boy for good looks and heroism."

Natasha's gaze narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "I suggest you drop it before you say something you'll regret," she warned, her voice low and measured. It was clear she had reached her limit. 

“Ohh, I’m shaking in my boots,” You rolled your eyes. “At first the pressure was on me. Be more like Natasha. Take notes from Natasha. Ask Natasha for help. We can't even hold a simple conversation.” 

Natasha's jaw tightened at your sarcastic remark, her frustration is evident in her expression. "I never asked for you to be like me," she retorted, her tone clipped. "And if you're feeling pressured, that's on you, not me."

You could sense the tension between you escalating, and you knew you had hit a nerve. But instead of backing down, you continued to push, fueled by a mix of defiance and annoyance. "Oh, please," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Don't act like you haven't enjoyed being put on that pedestal. It's not like you haven't reveled in being everyone's golden girl."

Natasha's eyes flashed with annoyance, her patience wearing thin. "That's enough," she stated firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I won't be dragged into your petty games. If you have a problem with me, say it to my face instead of hiding behind snide remarks." 

“I don’t have a problem with you,” You began. “It’s the simple fact that you’re committed to this whole mean girl serious chick schtick. You’ve insulted me fifteen times this morning without holding your breath or thinking about it. I simply want to know what’s up. So I’m asking? Last night we were cool. This morning it’s giving me an entirely new personality.”

“So, to get back at me you imply that I’m sleeping with my teammate?”

The accusation hung in the air, heavy with tension, as Natasha processed your words. 

"Implying? No," You retorted. "I merely observed a dynamic between teammates. If you took it as an insult, that's on you."

“I think you’re jealous,” Natasha commented. 

Your response was swift, fueled by a mixture of frustration and defiance. "Jealous?" you echoed incredulously, a flash of indignation in your eyes. "Of what, exactly?" Natasha's comment caught you off guard, the accusation striking a nerve. "I'm not jealous," you countered, your voice tinged with irritation. "I just don't appreciate being undermined and belittled at every turn."

There was a tense silence between you, the air thick with unspoken tension. Natasha's expression remained impassive, but there was a glimmer of challenge in her eyes, daring you to continue the confrontation.

“Jealous of that fact that I was welcomed into the group based on merit and skills alone,” Natasha gloated. “I didn’t need my government daddy to put a word in for me.” 

Natasha's words stung, hitting a nerve deep within you. You clenched your jaw, struggling to maintain your composure in the face of her taunting.

"Merit and skills alone, huh?" you replied through gritted teeth, your tone laced with bitterness. "Funny, considering the lengths you've gone to to prove yourself at every turn."

But you swallowed your pride, forcing yourself to remain calm despite the urge to lash out. With a tight-lipped smile, you met Natasha's gaze head-on, refusing to let her see how deeply her words had wounded you.

"Congratulations," You replied tersely, your voice cold and clipped. "I'm glad you're so proud of yourself. Now let's focus on the task at hand, shall we?"

The silence went on for a few seconds longer before you scrunched your nose. 

“And government Daddy?” You frowned. “Who the hell do you think is my dad?”

Natasha's expression remained impassive, her gaze steady as she delivered her next words with a calculated calmness. "I don't know," she replied evenly, "but I wouldn't be surprised if it's someone like Ross."

The mention of Ross's name sent a chill down your spine, stirring up memories of past encounters and the uneasy alliance you had with him. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself from him, his shadow seemed to loom over you like a specter, a constant reminder of the ties that bound you to the government.

“Holy Fuck,” You clenched your fists, struggling to contain the anger bubbling within you. "Ross?" you scoffed, your tone dripping with disdain. "He's nothing but a manipulative bureaucrat with his own agenda. I have no ties to him, and I certainly don't need him to vouch for me."

“Why is his name riddled all over your file then?” 

You felt a knot form in your stomach at Natasha's question, a sinking feeling settling in as you grappled with how much she knew about your past. "I... I don't know," you replied, your voice strained with uncertainty. "Maybe it's just... paperwork. I've had dealings with him in the past, but that doesn't mean he's my... my father."

Despite your attempt to brush off the implications, Natasha's piercing gaze bore into you, her scrutiny unrelenting. "You can't just dismiss it like that," she insisted, her tone firm. "There's a reason his name keeps popping up in your file."

You shook your head firmly, dispelling any notion of familial ties between you and Ross. "No, not because we're related," you asserted, your voice resolute. "I've made it clear before—I have no familial connection to Ross."

Natasha regarded you with a scrutinizing gaze, her expression unreadable. "Then why is his name so intertwined with your file?" she pressed, her tone insistent.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for Natasha's reaction to your explanation. "Spectra was deeply connected with the CIA," you began, your voice steady despite the lingering frustration. "Ross helped me out with some intel. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Natasha regarded you with a thoughtful expression, her gaze probing as she considered your words. "Is that all it was?" she asked, her tone cautious. "Or was it part of a larger plan to spy on the Avengers?"

You shook your head, the weight of Natasha's suspicion weighing heavily on you. "No," you replied firmly, meeting her gaze head-on. "I would never betray the team like that. Ross may have his own agenda, but I'm not a pawn in his game."

As Natasha continued to scrutinize you, a glimmer of realization crossed her features. "So what's the deal?" she asked, her voice softening slightly as she searched your eyes for the truth. "You're not exactly the type to strike up a deal with Ross without a good reason."

"It's complicated," You admitted. "But after Spectra's downfall, I was left vulnerable. Ross and Tony offered me protection, a way to defect from the shadows and start fresh."

Natasha's brow furrowed in understanding, though there was a hint of skepticism in her expression. "And what do they get out of it?" she pressed, her tone cautious.

You sighed heavily, knowing that Natasha wouldn't let up until she had all the answers. "Information," you confessed, the weight of your betrayal heavy on your conscience. "About Spectra.” 

There was a moment of silence as Natasha processed your words, the gravity of your situation settling over you like a suffocating blanket. 

“You’re an informant?” Natasha breathed. She knew it. She couldn’t believe this. 

You nodded solemnly, meeting Natasha's gaze with a heavy heart. "Yes," you admitted, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a dark cloud. "I'm an informant."

Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her disbelief palpable as she struggled to come to terms with the revelation. "I knew it," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Thank you, Kim Possible for knowing it all,” You rolled your eyes. 

“Who’s Kim Possible?” 

“And you’re still telling me you’re under thirty,” You mumbled. You rolled your eyes at Natasha's response, unable to resist a sarcastic retort

You couldn't help but chuckle at her bewilderment. "She's a fictional character from an old cartoon," you explained. "Always saving the day and solving mysteries. Thought you might appreciate the comparison."

“So, you gained immunity for your crimes then in exchange for information?” Natasha deduced. 

“Something like that,” You shrugged. “I’m an Avenger though because of my skills. I could have gone into a witness protection program or something.” 

There was a moment of silence as Natasha absorbed your words, the weight of your choices hanging heavily in the air between you. "I understand," she replied finally, her tone softening with understanding. 

“Do you? Because it seems like you want to use my past against me every chance you get,” You eased up on the accelerator. “I was a teen when I became a pawn for Spectra. They weren’t the cleanest government agency. None of them are. You may have involuntarily joined the Red Room but it’s not like I had much of a choice either. I was a poor kid from Jersey with no money or family. I did what I had to do to survive.” 

“I do understand,” Natasha nodded. 

“Look can we make a deal,” You sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Can we just be cordial? We don’t have to be friends. I’m not expecting us to have sleepovers and braid each other's hair. I would simply like to make this work so that we get what we need out of this mission.” 

Natasha regarded you for a moment, her expression thoughtful as she considered your proposal. After a moment of silence, she nodded slowly. "Agreed," she replied, her voice firm. "Cordial it is."

You offered her a small nod of gratitude, relieved to have reached a truce, however tentative it may be. She reached into the backseat, grabbing something you couldn't see before you realized it was the magazine from yesterday. 

“What is your favorite type of nonsexual physical intimacy and are you satisfied with the frequency you receive it?” 

You blinked in surprise at Natasha's unexpected question, taken aback by its intimacy. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, unsure how to respond to such a personal inquiry.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself before replying, "Um, well, I guess my favorite type of nonsexual physical intimacy would be... hugs? I suppose?" You offered a hesitant smile, feeling a bit awkward under Natasha's scrutinizing gaze. "I’m not really comfortable with a lot of physical touch. For personal reasons. And as for the frequency... I guess it's alright. I don't really think about it much."

Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable as she tucked the magazine back into its place. "Good to know," she remarked casually, as if she hadn't just asked you one of the most personal questions imaginable.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a bit exposed by the exchange. But despite the awkwardness, you couldn't help but appreciate Natasha's attempt at breaking down the walls between you, even if it was in her own unconventional way. With a small nod of acknowledgment, you turned your attention back to the road ahead of you.

------> part 4

[m00nsbaby]

Helping you with homework.

Moon system x reader. - Headcanons.

Steven.

God bless Steven Grant's heart.

Although you didn't enjoy asking for help with things like this, you knew your boyfriend was the right person for your history assignment.

Unfortunately, remembering dates was your kryptonite.

"I'll explain it to you, okay?" He put on his glasses, and you sighed.

How were you supposed to concentrate when he looked like that?

You watched him go to his room and return with at least six different books in his arms.

And you pushed your chair so close that your shoulders touched.

It started well; you were understanding the timeline from prehistory to the Middle Ages.

However, you didn't take into account that once Steven started talking about his hyperfixations, he didn't stop.

By the second hour, you weren't sure if you were still retaining anything, so you did what your instinct dictated.

You hugged his arm, the one he wasn't using to underline sentences in his book, and your cheek rested against his shoulder.

Steven's heart raced, as it always did when you touched him spontaneously.

"Am I boring you already, love?" He kissed your hair, and shortly after, you felt the weight of his cheek against your head.

"Never," you simply said as the letters began to dance in front of your eyes.

The truth was that his voice relaxed you. Steven had a tendency to speak quickly, his accent resonating in your ears and warming you to your core, but when things got intimate, his voice seemed deeper.

He spoke slowly to make sure you didn't get lost in his words.

You yawned, and he noticed but didn't say anything. In fact, he kept talking.

And talking.

And talking.

Until your eyelids grew heavy.

"And with that, we conclude the topic of feudalism." You had fallen asleep about 10 minutes ago, hugging Steven's arm and feeling his slow breath against your body.

He chuckled, a sound you didn't even register.

Steven didn't feel bad about it; he knew school was taking its toll on you, and that day you hadn't taken your usual daily nap.

He knew better than anyone that you needed rest.

And because he had once read that people feel sleepy when they're comfortable with someone.

He didn't mind having to continue your assignment by himself, doing everything possible not to move you from his shoulder.

And taking breaks now and then to place a hand on your forehead to keep you from falling forward when you nodded off.

The next day, you woke up in your bed, and Steven had already gone to work.

Under a note with a happy face drawn on it were the seven pages of your handwritten essay.

You ended the day with the highest grade in your group, several congratulations, and many embarrassed smiles that screamed, "I didn't even lift the pen off the desk all night."

Marc.

"I beg you." "No."

"Marc?" "No."

"Please?" "I said no."

You had been following him around the house for about 5 hours. Usually, you had no trouble completing your responsibilities from start to finish, but on days like today, you didn't even have the energy to turn on your laptop.

And Marc, of course, had already decided that there was no way he would help you with something like this.

In his school days, he didn't even do his own homework.

"Please, please, please." "I said no."

After begging for the 46th time, you finally gave up. The rest of the day passed just as boringly until dinner when you took the last sip of coffee from your cup.

"I'm not going to do it." After a week of constant sleep deprivation, you decided that you could afford to sleep for 8 hours just this once.

Marc looked at you in silence for a few seconds before nodding his head.

"Then let's go to sleep."

You obeyed, and you both went hand in hand to bed. Like every night, you felt him press you against his body with both arms.

The exhaustion in your body made you give in in less than 10 minutes.

But Marc couldn't sleep.

At 12:27 in the morning, he quietly got out of bed.

And at 01:53, you woke up. The fear of not feeling your daily companion almost made you cry like a little kid.

You got up to look for him, and it wasn't difficult at all. The light from your laptop illuminated the entire dining room.

And the sound of the keys echoed through the house.

"Marc?" "No," he replied again. Admitting such gestures was not his strong suit.

Still, he pushed the chair back to give you space, and you dragged your feet to sit on his lap.

You sat sideways, your head resting on his shoulder as the warmth of his body relaxed you from head to toe.

He kept typing.

You don't know how long you slept there, but a while later, you felt him carry you to bed.

And just a few hours later, your alarm went off, with Marc's arms crushing you against his chest, and your laptop patiently waiting in the dining room.

Jake.

Spanish was never your strong suit.

And you knew very well that Jake was the one who could help you, but once you asked him, you knew he wouldn't stop bothering you.

He, on the other hand, was an expert in both things: speaking fluent Spanish and teasing you.

"Jake?" "Yes, honey?" "Can I ask you something?"

And as you suspected, he didn't leave you alone all day.

"Could you pour me a glass of water?" "¿Perdón? No te escuché." (Sorry? I didn't hear you.)

You looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"¿Y bien?" (Well?)

"Un… vaso de… agua." (A glass of water.) "¿Por qué?" (Why?) "Por favor." (Please.)

You rolled your eyes for the 17th time that day.

And he kissed you for the 23rd time.

"¿Amor?" You looked up from your phone. "¿Cómo se llama esto?" (What's this called?) You watched him point to his fork.

You were 12 seconds away from murdering him with your own hands.

"Tú puedes." (You can do it.) He sounded like the host of a children's program. "Te…"

"Te…" You stared at him, waiting for more clues. "Neeee." "Dor."

Kiss number 27.

You won't deny that you didn't hit him multiple times and gave him full-body shoves since you needed all your strength to at least get him to move.

And he mocked you every time.

"I hate you." "No-oh. Intenta de nuevo." (Try again.) "¡Te odio!"

At least this time he made you laugh.

It turns out that all day you didn't get around to doing the study session you had planned for the day.

And you probably learned more than if you had done it.

Still, you cursed when you felt your boyfriend's hands on your shoulders as he approached you from behind.

You looked up, and he leaned down to your height, with that mischievous smile that seemed permanently etched on his face.

"What?" "Te amo." (I love you.)

You blushed.

"Te amo." you said back as you received a chaste kiss on your lips.

You had lost count.

"Eres el amor de mi vida." (You're the love of my life.) Another kiss. "Espero algún día encontrar las palabras para hacerte saber cuanto te amo." (I hope to someday find the words to let you know how much I love you.)

You stopped paying attention once his lips started brushing against yours as he spoke.

"Te amo." he repeated, placing another kiss on your lips.

And when you thought the day was over, he didn't miss the opportunity to test your patience once more.

"Goodnight, babe." "No te entendí." (I didn't understand you.)

In the darkness, you heard the thump you gave his chest.

"Buenas noches." You kissed his shoulder.

And yes, the next day, you let him enjoy his multiple "I told you so" moments when you passed the exam.

[aza-writes]

Morning Affirmations

Lip Gallagher x female!reader

Requested: no

Summary: Lip walks in on his girlfriend singing to the younger kids while she gets them ready for the day. Takes place in season 4 after Liam gets home from the hospital

Warnings: few curse words, mentions of drug use (Fiona in jail) but overall, it’s just tons of FLUFF

A/N: inspired by “I love my body” by @mothermoon on TikTok. Might rewrite something similar for dad!lip, lmk what you think. Got bored before lab and wrote this

The floorboards creaked under every step Lip took to get down to the kitchen. He wasn’t too concerned with anything too wrapped up in his mind until two sweet voices pull him out.

“I love my body from my…” 

“Head to my toes.” 

Liam’s voice was hard to hear, even in the quietness of the unusually empty Gallagher house. Everyone was already at school or wherever they ran off to today—leaving Lip home alone to take care of some things. 

Liam has only been home from the hospital for two days, leaving Lip and the rest of the family still scrambling without Fiona running the show. Lip had school off today, some random college holiday that didn’t make sense for a lot of people, but they took it anyway. 

Lip had been out of bed since 5 that morning, unsure if it was considered a late night or an early morning due to the fact he hadn’t slept for more than a few hours the night before. His mind was going a million miles an hour, mixed with him worrying himself sick about Liam and going to check on him every thirty minutes. Every time he would get up from his bed, y/n would sit up, too. Her concerned look was always dismissed with a quick “go back to sleep” or “I’ll be back soon” from Lip. The “soon” in question was around five to ten minutes of Lip just sitting in front of Liam’s bed, watching his chest rise and fall. 

Y/n stayed up and waited for Lip the first few times, but soon enough her eyes got too heavy for her to ignore. Even with the extra sleep, caffeine would be her best friend today. 

Lip’s mind was still groggy as he trudged down the stairs, stress and sleep deprivation felt like chains were strapped to the back of his ankles. He barely made out the words y/n and Liam were exchanging. 

“I love my face…” She lingered for a second, allowing Liam to think about the next verse. She smiles and continued on. “My-” 

“Eyes, my mouth my nose.” Lip could help but smile at the sight of Liam touching every body part mentioned. He clearly knew this song, yet Lip couldn’t think of any of the words. When ever you would sing it to one of his younger siblings, all he could do was hear your voice. The kindergarten-teacher-like tone was enough for him to abandon all of his thoughts and focus on you. 

“I like the way I look when I look in the mirror.” Liam didn’t have to wait for y/n this time, he sang it with her. Their voices both were quiet, almost scared to wake anyone up, but the house stayed quiet. It was just those three in that house, the outside world didn’t matter. 

“I stand a little closer just to see a little clearer.” Both of their smiles were beaming. Liam giggling at y/n’s little tickles all over his belly and neck. Lip’s grew too. Y/n was so amazing with the kids, Lip could’ve sworn it as always been this way. Y/n and Lip, Lip and y/n. They belonged together. 

Everyone in his family loved her. Carl made her a gift out of melted spoons and forks, Debbie demands they have a girls day at least once a month. Shit, even Frank called her “one of the good ones.” Technically it was after she downed a shot of vodka without even wincing, but he still liked her non the less. 

Y/n turns around smiling, it only growing when she finally sees Lip. 

“Good morning babe.” 

“Morning babe!” Liam repeats immediatly, causing Lip and y/n to giggle with him. 

Lip pours two cups of coffe before heading to the kitchen table. “Good morning to you.” He sets the coffe right in front of y/n while kissing her cheek. He carefully set his down too and kissed Liams cheek. “Good morning little man.” 

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 5

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 3k Also on AO3

Reading your own Wikipedia page is quite a strange experience. Paragraph after paragraph of your life written on the internet for everybody to see, from the day you were born all the way to this very moment. 

You do not know if the fact that none of it is true is for better or worse. 

Some parts are accurate, information about your hometown, date of birth, relatives' names and... that’s about it really. According to this biography, not only have you been the runner-up for a Formula 3 championship, but you are also a Formula 2 champion, which is good you guess, for someone that did not even know those kinds of competitions existed. As of two hours ago, Formula One was the only championship with those kinds of cars you had ever heard about, but there are so many. Too many actually. In a section of your page named ‘junior racing career’ —which is in itself a crazy sentence to read—, it even says something about karting’s championships and an academy thing, concepts you are not sure if you want to understand. 

Oh, and the most important part, you are a Formula 1 driver, a statement endlessly repeated throughout the text. They even claim this to be your second year on the motorsport, ‘not a rookie anymore’ they say, as if yesterday’s race was not the first one you have ever watched from start to finish. 

Still, if being pushed into a Formula One car and a whole Wikipedia page was not enough of a confirmation, you can find a million articles online that certify your participation in the sport. Webs filled with photos of you with the cars, dressed in full gear and with that stupid blue helmet, the situation getting worse and worse with every tap of your finger. 

How is any of this possible? 

The rabbit hole that seems to be your ‘life’ keeps you awake night after night, new information slapping you in the face every two minutes while you try to navigate what appears to be a Formula One driver’s normal schedule. Nick makes sure of that last part at least. 

The first step on that agenda had been to fly out of Austria, a place you cannot comprehend how you had arrived to when you were in Spain just yesterday. It is not like you were having the best time of your life there, finishing the third month of your external internship in a city you thought was already too far away from home, but this change looks a bit excessive. The possibility of being in a completely different country had seemed so absurd at first, when a list called Austrian GP came up as one of the top results in your research, and yet with a simple look to the navigation app, your worst nightmare had been confirmed. From your trip to the airport, to the arrival to another country, France, and to a new hotel, Nick walking you through every step of the process and only leaving you alone once you are back in the hotel room. 

The next few days follow a similar dynamic, mornings spent trailing behind Nick without a clue of what happens around you and long nights glued to the phone, the date for the next GP —or whatever they call it— getting closer and closer.  

You are not ready to repeat last Sunday’s events, an engine failure had saved you from the inevitable end, but you might not be so lucky next time. There is no way you are stepping into that car again, that is for sure, and even less so when you have not figured out what brought you here in the first place.  

Although you had drowned yourself in information about your supposed life the first nights in France, the need to discover what was happening to you had quickly managed to overpower that curiosity. From the moment Nick knocks on your door early on the morning to the hours you lay awake on bed looking for anything that could explain this madness, you spend every second of the day looking for an explanation.  

A kidnapping had been the most credible theory from day one, the way you had woken up to all those screams and the men surrounding you, how Nick had come into your hotel room that morning and pushed you to drive with no regard for your safety. It made sense. However, the articles posted all over the internet told a very different story. There is too much information about you, some posts even dating back to when you were a child, photos and videos that cannot be simply edited and uploaded to make you believe you have gone crazy. You have driven a Formula One car on an official race, for crying out loud, that is not something anybody can orchestrate. 

To be honest, the whole Formula One thing had knocked down quite a few of your guesses. What could someone gain from making you, a nobody, believe they are a motorsport driver?   

In fact, the only theory that could easily explain everything that had happened to you in the past few days is that: none of this is real. A dream. You can vividly remember dozing off on your bed, that sensation of falling down and then suddenly waking up in that unfamiliar place. It could be the reason why you had blacked out when the car exited the garage, why everyone knew you, and could also explain the existence of all those false stories on the internet.  

You had made all of this up. 

That had indeed been one of your first assumptions, or at least had been an easy way for your mind to let go of all the worries in such an unnerving situation. If this was not real, there was nothing to stress about, no danger in sight. Your alarm will go off any moment now and you will be one day closer to ending this internship and going back home. Tomorrow will be a new day. 

Despite this, as time goes by, it becomes harder and harder to hold onto this happy thought. 

Stepping foot into the new track is a breaking point. It is Friday, five days have gone by and nothing has changed, the countdown to the next race weighting down on your mind as you walk through what Nick had called the paddock. It is that strange street again, the one lined by those colorful buildings but in a completely different country —another clue that this was indeed not real, you were clearly lacking imagination to be recycling sceneries like this. 

They had brough you here yesterday as well, for a tour around the track that had set your nerves alight. Thankfully, you had done nothing but wander around the circuit for a while, be surrounded by a couple cameras, have a meeting with the engineers and go back to the hotel for another sleepless night.  

Maybe you should sleep more —which sounds quite contradictory when you are supposedly already dreaming— because, when the events of last Sunday start repeating themselves, you do not even have the strength to push back. Nick manages once again to lure you into the white building and prepare you for what he calls practice, but the reality is that just the sight of that Formula One car on the garage makes you heart drop to the pit of your stomach. 

“Don’t worry about times,” a man who has been following you all day says “Let’s see if everything feels good first and we’ll talk things over for FP2”.  

A lot of changes had been made to the car since Austria, that is what all the meetings had been about. You had silently sat down through all of them, nodding along to the engineers’ words as if you understood any of it. 

Now that you are seated in the car, blue helmet and jumpsuit on, you can only wish that whatever broke the car in Austria has not been fixed. That the engine won’t even start, and you will have to retire again. It is hard enough to listen to the rest of the cars exiting their own garages, their engines revving like they might explode.  

How they have managed to put you on the spot yet again, that you do not understand. And it is not only a one-time thing, but they easily make you jump in the car later the day for a second practice. 

When you are finally helped out of the car the second time, body uncontrollably trembling and a static sound filling your ears, you feel an unusual sense of calmness. The whole ride had felt like such a clear sign that none of this is real, it can’t be. Both practices had gone by in the blink of an eye, just like it had happened in Austria, a fade to black and you are back where you started. You do not even remember seeing other cars on the road or how you got back to the garage. Nothing. The only proof that you had driven around for hours being the fatigue consuming your body, something that backs the dreaming theory up so perfectly. 

They say you have done great though, so that is something.  

Nevertheless, it feels nice to be back on normal clothes, like there is less of a target on your back for the cameras and other strangers, but it is still difficult to keep a low profile when you are walking through the paddock with the team’s merchandising. Nick is guiding you out to the last meeting of the day, after you have fulfilled all the media duties and team reunions that have kept you on the track since your arrival this morning. He says this driver’s briefing thing should not last long, that it is quite late already, and they are probably thinking more about going back home than anything.  

The meeting is on another building, one you had not even noticed in your two days here, Nick leading you inside and up some stairs until you find the meeting room. When he opens the door, you realize there is already people seated inside, the sound of their mixed talks now filling the long corridor. You recognize some of them, not from the team meetings but from Austria, other drivers.  

The room is furnished as a classroom, a projector on the right wall and the rest of the space filled with rows of chairs. There are not many people in it yet, Nick had said it would be better to get there early before people start crowding the entrance and now you understood why. Your gaze instantly zeroes in on Lewis, a tiny smile pulling at your lips while Nick guides you to some seats, deciding to leave your things with him and go say hello. You have not seen him since Austria, after you had spent the entire pre-race ceremony talking to him, and now that you have kind of ruled out the possibility that he is a kidnapper, you have realized that maybe he was just being nice. 

Yet, before you can take more than two steps away from Nick, you feel someone pulling at your hand. You come to a sudden stop, looking back to see a man seated in the row in front of you and Nick’s seat regarding you with a huge grin on his lips. He has dark hair and big brown eyes that seem to be staring into your soul. 

“Oh c’mon, you’re not even going to say hello because I didn’t get you cookies last week?” the man chuckles, tilting his head as he looks up at you like he cannot believe what you were about to do “Isn’t that too much?” 

Even though his tone is light and jokey, you cannot help but frown at him. Why would you greet him when you don’t know him in the first place? And why is he holding your hand? 

Instead of letting go when you stand there in silence, too stunned to react to his words, he decides to pull you down into the seat next to his “Didn’t Charles get you some? You are being greedy at this point” he jokes once you are seated, not a word leaving your lips. 

Oh, Charles, you remember him from Austria as well. Actually, he was wearing the same exact red shirt as this man, a detail that the abrupt start of the conversation had left you blind to. The Ferrari logo in both his chest and cap are even more of a telltale of who he must be. Charles’ teammate. 

“They were nice...” you respond, crossing your legs and relaxing back on the chair now that you have gathered your bearings. It is true, you had been munching on those cookies throughout the race after your disqualification, Nick bringing them over to you as a treat to distract you. 

The man shakes his head in disbelief, smile widening as he assures you “I'll get you a full basket next time, don’t worry” 

The promise genuinely makes you smile, he seems nice. 

“How’s the car doing?” the man queries, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks around 

You can almost feel the media training kicking in, pre-made phrases hanging off the tip of your tongue, they have been putting a microphone in your face and asking you about it all morning. Nonetheless, you manage to push it all down, it finally feels like you are having a normal conversation after this stressful week, you are not about to parrot the engineers' words for the millionth time “Well, it hasn’t caught fire yet...”  

The man seems to like that answer, letting out a giggle and a “That’s an improvement” while he nods in understanding. There is a moment of silence that follows, his eyes set on your face as if he was waiting for something that does not come. Is he expecting a more in-depth response or something? Yet, before you can decide on what to do, he finally wills himself to say what he has been thinking ever since you entered the room “So... are you feeling better?”  

The question catches you off guard at first, the conversation taking a more serious turn than you had expected —or wanted. Should you say you are great, just to shut down the topic entirely? The room is filling up with people by the second and it is not like you are about to open your heart to a total stranger. Or are you supposed to give the same response Nick had made you repeat over and over again in front of the journalists? ‘I’m perfectly fine now, it was pure exhaustion’. 

“I’m-” you start saying, mind not really having decided on what lie to tell, when someone pats your head. 

You rise your head to look behind you, both to see who it is and to get away from their touch —what is with this people taking such liberties?—, the man by your side doing the same. Standing tall behind your row of chairs is none other than the man you have spent day and nights thinking about: Daniel. 

“Ready for the two hours briefing?” he sighs with a raised eyebrow, his hand traveling down to your shoulder when you turn your body around to talk to him. This is the first time you have seen the man out of that bright orange jumpsuit, now sporting a shirt of the same color instead, logos drawn all over it. He is still wearing that matching cap though. 

“So dramatic...” the man seated by your side snickers, the previous chat seemingly forgotten “We should do a twenty-four-hour briefing just for you” 

“Mate,” Daniel says with a half-smile, pointing at you with a tilt of his head “she wasn’t here last year” 

That must mean something you do not understand because it is all the man in red needs to groan out loud, his face falling in defeat at the prospect of having to sit through such a long meeting. On the other hand, you can only sit there with your eyebrows furrowed, Nick had assured you would be out of here in no time. And of course you were not here last year, or ever, you have not- but your inner monologue gets suddenly interrupted by the one phrase you have been telling yourself all day: none of this is real, you’re dreaming. 

“What? No, she was driving here last year” another voice joins the conversation, his statement sharp and direct. You lean your body forward to see who it is, he has taken a seat on the other side of the man in red and his body is blocking the stranger’s face, eyes widening when you recognize him. Charles. 

“It was still Mazepin in France, he almost crashed into Kimi remember?” Daniel corrects him with a side grin “She started after the break in... was it Silverstone?” 

Daniel looks at you for confirmation on this one, the other two men also lowering their gaze to yours, waiting. You are so overwhelmed though, it feels so strange, the fact that they are talking so categorically about things that have not ever happened. What is Mazepin? Kimi? And Silverstone? What break? The pressure of the situation getting to you in the worst possible moment. 

So you end up doing what you do best, nod along to whatever the other person says even though you do not understand anything. That is what you have done to the engineers, to the media, to Nick and now to these three men before the start of a briefing that you won’t understand a word of either.  

Afterall, none of this matter, this is only a dream, right? 

Next Chapter

___

Author's note: Thanks a lot for all the hearts, comments and everything! I'm so happy you're liking the fic

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin

[riality-check]

more daisy jones-adjacent things. this time, they're finally starting to hate each other a little less.

parts 1, 2, and 3, for your reading pleasure. less drugs this time around, but way more talk about steve's ptsd. part 5. part 6. part 7.

ao3

Steve has never co-written anything before. All of his songs are his, from start to finish. Every note, every chord, every syllable is his invention, and he takes them all very seriously.

That's not to say that he doesn't accept help. He wouldn't be himself if he wasn't constantly bouncing ideas off of Robin and Dustin and Lucas, and he always has other people look it over and offer suggestions.

But the initial creation? That's all him. Steve likes that kind of control.

Writing with a band is very different. Eddie declares it, the song Steve pissed him off enough into writing, done after they've got lyrics and a lead guitar part.

"They'll write the rest," he says, like it's that simple.

Steve can't imagine letting go that much. In all honesty, he's scared shitless. He's never been good at being nice. Charming, yes. Nice, no. And he doesn't know how he'll be nice if the drum, bass, and rhythm guitar parts suck.

It's his song. Well, his and Eddie's, which is weird to think about, but still.

Steve has never co-written anything before.

And, to make matters worse, he fell asleep last night.

He knew it was coming. He's never made it past seventy-two hours, no matter how hard he tries or how high he gets. He knew it was coming, and he prepped as best as he could.

That didn't stop him from sleeping in three hour bursts, at max. Torn between the nightmares and the exhaustion and the crash, he freaked out, passed out, and repeated the cycle until he had to get up and go to the studio.

At least this time, last night, he was back in the Byers house. Scary as shit, with the initial confusion never fading, but it's the best of the nightmares he gets. Between the dogs and the torture, Steve's brain has plenty of worse things to torment him with.

Maybe he should be grateful, but he's never been good at dealing with what he's given.

This morning, he doesn't need to take anything. He's tired, but not that tired, and he's trying to give himself breaks when he can.

He doesn't want to die. He just wants to stay awake.

He has a coffee, though. That's mostly for the taste. His tolerance is shot to hell, so it's not like caffeine makes a real difference.

Steve walks into the studio, coffee in hand, and sees the band setting up and tuning their instruments. Jeff gives him a little wave, Gareth nods absently as he tightens his snare, and Archie positively beams.

"Steve, you're a saint," he says, a little mischief in his eyes. "Different chords, finally. I could kiss you."

Steve laughs and promptly cuts himself off when he sees Eddie staring at him.

"Do I have something on my face?" he asks once the silence has stretched on for too long.

"Why are you here?" Eddie asks bluntly.

Steve, notably, doesn't flinch back. He doesn't snap. He doesn't do anything that he would regret later.

He just says, steadily, "I can go if you don't want me."

He stands there, and he swallows back his hurt. He thought Eddie was finally warming up to him. He took Eddie's fighting words as an improvement from being ignored. And, as usual, Steve thought wrong.

"Hang on a sec," Jeff says. He sets his guitar down and stands between Steve and Eddie. "I said I wanted Steve on backing vocals for this."

"Is Steve not on backing vocals?" Gareth asks from the other side of the room.

"Far as I know, he is," Archie says with a pointed look at Eddie.

Eddie turns to look at Jeff instead. Steve watches their intense staring match and thinks about just walking out.

Before he can take the first step, Eddie says, "Fine."

"Fine what?" Steve can't help but ask.

"Stay."

Steve nods, but he turns to Jeff. "Are you sure? It's fine if-"

"I'm sure," Jeff says. "I think you wrote this song more for your register than mine."

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," Jeff says. "I changed everything I can't hit, but I just want a little more support, you know?"

Steve looks around the little studio space, around at all the cables and amps and mics and instruments, and he counts. Then counts again.

"There's only four mics," he says.

Jeff picks his guitar back up and gives it a little strum. "Share with Eddie."

"What?" Eddie says, looking like he would rather walk out than do that.

"Nothing against you, Steve," Jeff explains, ignoring Eddie. "I'm just a big personal space guy. Can't focus otherwise."

Steve looks over at Eddie, still sitting, still scowling.

"Fine," he says, because he'll be professional, even if Eddie won't.

"You guys are fucking killing me," Chrissy says, and Argyle, the audio engineer next to her, nods in agreement. "Can we get this show on the road?"

Gareth gives them a little salute, one that Chrissy rolls her eyes at. "We all ready?"

"As we'll ever be," the rest of the band choruses.

Steve shrugs. "Yeah."

"You warm up?" Eddie asks, walking toward his mic.

Steve follows. "Never do."

Eddie rolls his eyes, but then Chrissy gives them the all-clear, Gareth counts them off, and they start.

And something switches.

Steve knew this would be higher energy. Different genre, different sound, whatever. But there's something fucking electric about playing with a band instead of being by himself in an iso booth, drilling vocals until he has a take he's happy with.

Recording with a band brings a different sort of energy. It creates a feedback loop, getting them higher, playing faster, sounding better.

Steve tells himself to back off. He's not the star of this show. He's been invited, and a quarter of the people in this room don't want him here.

But filling in the gaps has always come easy to him, and he gives the backing vocals his all.

And somewhere between the guitar solo and the end of the song, Eddie smiles at him for the first time.

It's quick, but it's blinding. Steve didn't think Eddie could smile until he does. It's quick as a flash and wide and feral and a little mean, but it's there, and it's directed at him.

But just like that, the first take is over. It was messy and imperfect, and as soon as it ends, Eddie is back to scowling at him.

But it's not as harsh. And that's how Steve knows that he wasn't imagining that little bit of something.

"Holy shit," Archie says, as soon as they're done. "This is gonna be a good song."

"It's gonna be a great song," Jeff says.

"I want more from Steve," Gareth adds, and the rest of the guys agree.

Even Eddie, however begrudgingly.

"Alright, boys," Chrissy says. "You've got the fun out of your systems. Let's focus and make some music."

Steve looks over at Eddie, who nods, however slightly. And he thinks, because he has never been able to kill hope a day in his life, that they could make a good team if Eddie could stop hating his guts.

[patdkoala]

Backseat Serenade

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader

Warnings: Pet names (baby), unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, Dean Winchester being a total slut (yes that's a warning)

Sam had found a case for us all last night. Dean drove us halfway and then pulled into a skeezy motel for the rest of the night.

"Alright so, the lady messed up and gave us two beds," Dean said as he handed Sam and me both keys. "I don't see how that is a problem," I said as I took one of the keys and unlocked the door of the motel.

We stepped inside and it smelled like piss, beer, sweat, and menthol. The carpets reeked of cat piss, the curtains were stained yellow from people smoking inside, and the paint on the walls was patchy as if they'd been repainted multiple times.

And sitting on both sides of the room were two twin beds.

"But there are three of us," I said as Sam set his bags down on one of the beds. "I call dibs on the bed closest to the bathroom," He said as Dean and I glanced at each other back and forth.

"I will sleep in the car, you take the other bed," Dean said as he set my bags down on the other bed (He had carried my bags for me from the car to the motel).

"How is that fair to you? You're the one that drove for 10 hours straight. I can sleep in the car," I said as I went to pick up my bag.

"You're both ridiculous, why don't we just share a bed, Dean. Like we used to when dad would try to get the cheaper room when we were kids," Sam said as his older brother nodded and then we all got ready for bed.

The night went on per usual.

Sam fell asleep first, starfishing in his bed next to Dean, I was sitting up in bed watching a really bad romance movie on the tv, and Dean was sitting in his bed next to his little brother with his arms crossed and he sat there watching the movie with me.

"Do you seriously watch these every night?" Dean asked as I shook my head.

"No, only if the motels have cable but sometimes it cuts out and gets all staticky. Then I get a migraine so I have to turn it off," I said as the tv then turned to static and so I reached for the remote and turned it off.

"Why don't we all just try to get some sleep. We have a long car ride again tomorrow and we have to be well-rested for the hunt," Dean whispered to me as he looked at his sleeping brother.

I got under the covers but I couldn't exactly sleep because I wasn't very tired and I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Dean is sharing a bed with his little brother that is like 5 feet taller than all of us.

I started to laugh quietly in my bed.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked as I sat up and looked at him. He was laying on the very very edge of the bed and the blanket wasn't even covering 25% of his body. Sam Winchester starfishing in bed takes up 85% of the whole dang bed.

"Oh nothing," I laughed as Dean rolled his eyes, and then with one slight move he fell completely out of the bed.

"OH, SON OF A BITCH!" Dean whisper-yelled. "Dean! Shhhhhh!" I whisper-yelled back as I pointed to the sleeping Sam.

"Why don't you just sleep in my bed with me? I take up way less space than him and we both have insomnia so we can just stay up and talk anyway," I said as Dean nodded and then he got into bed with me.

The bed was still pretty small so Dean sat up a little and I rested my back against Dean's chest. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

I was pretty close to both boys so our cuddling up close was not a new thing. I'd been traveling with them both for months now.

We stayed up for a good four hours just talking to each other about the case, about Sam, about Castiel, about our past, and about how not tired we were.

"Wanna go for a drive?" I asked as Dean looked over to Sam who was still snoozing hard. "Sure," He said as he put on a hoodie and we left.

I stole one of Sam's hoodies since I didn't bring a late-night jacket.

We drove to a diner. We ordered pie.

"So, why do you and Sam do this?" "Do what?" He asked with a mouth full of pie.

"Why do you guys take these long drives? You could just as easily take a plane instead. You guys are practically loaded with all this credit card fraud," I said as he smiled and chuckled.

"Well, believe it or not, but Dean Winchester is scared of planes," He said as he spoke in the third person. "No, I believe it," I responded.

"What do you mean? I'm way too badass to be scared of anything," He said as he took another heaping bite of his apple pie.

"But, that's just it. You are way too much of a badass to be scared of anything that normal people are afraid of. Like ghosts, werewolves, witches, and demons. Because we fight things like that every day it would only make sense that our fears would be something dumb like planes, clowns, or heights," I said as he laughed at that last bit.

"So, is that what you're afraid of? Heights?" I nodded and he smiled back.

For a full hour of us sitting in that diner, it seemed almost as if Dean and I were a normal couple on a late-night date. It felt almost real.

"We should head back and see if we can get any sleep before Sam wakes up and decides it's time for his run," Dean said as I nodded.

And liked that the dream was crushed.

We drove back to the motel but we just sat in the parking lot.

"I don't want to go inside. I changed my mind," Dean said as I just sat there. "Okay? What do you want to do instead?" I asked as Dean just looked at me like I was the idiot in the car right now.

"Whatcha looking at me like that for?" I exclaimed as Dean then let out a huff.

"I just thought this whole night was you wanting to make a move on me but I guess I was wrong. I guess I've just been wrong for the past 7 months," He said as I looked at him with doe eyes.

"Oh, Dean. You are such a fool. Of course, I wanted you. I just knew that if we fucked early on in the hunting then I would be putting a target on my back and no one would take me seriously in the community. I'd just be the girl that fucked Dean Winchester and lived to tell the tale," I said as he smirked.

"Oh, don't worry. You'll still be able to tell the tale if you want," Dean said as he reached over to me and pulled me into a deep kiss.

We got out of the Impala and into the backseat. Dean took off his sweatshirt and then pulled off his t-shirt.

I removed Sam's hoodie and then my tank top. Only to reveal that I wasn't wearing a bra. "You spent the whole night with me while braless? You are a fucking minx," He said as he kissed my collarbone and then down my throat.

He held my body down as he moved his against mine with such force. I removed his belt and then slide his jeans and underwear down in one movement.

He pulled down my sweatpants and slid a finger inside of me ever so gently. I moaned out and arched my back. Then he slid in another finger.

Before I knew it, Dean Winchester had three fingers inside of me and I was moaning and falling apart underneath him.

"I know, baby. I feel you coming close." He said as he stopped and then he moved closer and pushed himself into me. I moaned at the sudden contact.

His fingers didn't even compare to the feeling of him inside of me like this.

We both moaned and he moved with such vigor. We took turns crying out each other's names.

The sun was rising behind us. He pulled out and came on the leather backseat. He used his t-shirt to clean it up.

He then fell asleep practically on top of me.

We woke up to knocking on the window. Dean used his hand to wipe the window because we had created so much steam that it fogged up the glass.

"Let me know why you guys are dressed and ready to go," Sam yelled outside the Impala. Dean got off of me and pulled his pants back on. His shirt was unuseful at the moment since it was just used as a cum rag.

I put back on Sam's hoodie and Dean put on his own. We got out of the car and went to change in the motel together.

Sam came back from his run and Dean had packed up the car so we checked out of the motel and all climbed in the Impala.

Dean and I were silent.

"So, are we going to address the elephant in the room or just ignore the fact that you two obviously slept together?" Sam asked as Dean looked in the rearview mirror and just gave me a look.

"Well, if it's so obvious then why does it need to be addressed?" I asked as Dean chuckled.

"I guess you're right then," Sam said before changing the topic and spoke about the case instead.

[p4rallel-universe]

wolf-out

(Enid Sinclair x male reader) (this part could probably be read as a GN reader is intended to be male, and if i make some more parts they'll be more clear abt that)

summary: Something about being a teen werewolf in love makes Enid's sex drive act up.

nsfw

soaked in sweat, tousled hair stuck to her forehead, Enid wakes up. blankets twisted around her, half kicked off the bed, she's a mess.

additionally, that morning - just the same as the morning before, and the morning before that - she wakes up with a strange empty feeling inside her stomach. it's all because of a dream. a dream she can never really remember the details of, but when the vague memories of it come to her during the day her face flushes.

she isn't sure what's been going on with her lately. every morning she wakes up, feeling needy and then all throughout the day her thighs press together at the slightest inappropriate thought.

she tries to put it down to regular hormones. and definitely nothing to do with the fact that her lycanthropy-enhanced libido has probably kicked in now that she's found a mate.

speaking of, she's just about going crazy with everything you do recently. every fleeting touch has her flustered. the worst part is, you don't even realise you're doing it, obviously. your hand goes to her waist or rests on her thigh absentmindedly and you don't even see how it makes her want to collapse then and there.

when you find her at school that day, her face lights up. it lights up even more when you invite her over to your dorm that night. she kisses you quickly, "see you at 8!", and then when you run off again she takes a second to panic.

she wonders, should she...talk to you about it? tell you about her feelings? she doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, or make you feel you have to do anything just because she, for lack of better phrasing, can't stop being horny.

and it's not like she wants to have sex. well- she definitely does. but not yet. she doesn't know what she wants to do, but she wants- no, at this point, she needs to do something.

that night, about half 7, Enid gets ready to go over to your dorm. she's giddy and really, she can't wait. she loves to see you, even if it's just to sit around in your bed for a couple hours.

after selecting an ideal outfit for the night, which is really just a jumper and a pair of shorts - it's comfortable, but still flattering, because it's on her - and fixing her hair one last time, Enid bids Wednesday goodbye, telling her not to wait up for her (not that she would). leaving her dorm, her stomach tingles a little with something that's a bit like nerves.

when you greet her at your door, dressed in equally comfortable clothing, she immediately jumps into your arms, wrapping you in a tight hug. you sway back and forth for a bit until she let's go of you, and you invite her inside. taking her hand loosely, you lead her over to your bed and you sit down together. the second you sit, she snuggles right up into you.

an hour or so passes, and you've switched cuddling positions about 5 times, watched less than half a movie, laughed till you cried over really stupid memes on Enid's phone, and of course, kissed. a lot. the clock strikes 10 and Enid figures she should probably go home. nuzzled into your chest, legs entwined with yours, she really doesn't want to leave.

"why don't you just stay the night?" you groan, wanting nothing more than for her to stay right where she is,

"Y/N, i can't-" she replies, then considers it for a second - i mean, it's not like Wednesday will have any complaints about having the dorm to herself for the night, right? - ..."actually, yeah, i will!" she says, and you kiss her forehead, happy to not have to say goodbye.

somewhere between then and 4 hours later, you both fell asleep. you're holding her close to you, her arms are wrapped around you and your legs are tangled together. you both sleep peacefully like this, until suddenly Enid wakes up.

in her sleep, she's moved so that both her legs are wrapped around one of yours. the same provocative dream that's tormented her for days must have struck her again, as the ache between her legs is stronger than ever, and, by her position, she guesses she must've been unconsciously grinding against you. she pricks with shame, and is glad that you're still fast asleep otherwise she probably would've died from embarrassment.

but still, the feeling of shame can't compare to the dull ache that's she's suffered through, unreleased for days. and now that it's stronger than ever, she isn't sure she can sleep or even breathe without doing something about it.

hesitantly, she presses a kiss to your neck, pulling back to read your face, she gives you another. hands tentatively moving to your upper arm, she keeps pressing quick kisses to your exposed neck. when she notices you stirring, she pulls away and looks at your face. when your eyes open, half-lidded, she smiles before anything. your eyes. the way you're looking at her right now only makes her want stronger. she wants you to look at her, all of her, just like this.

before you can even say hey, she kisses you. taken aback, you hesitate to kiss back. when her hand moves to your hair, fingers threading through it, you start to reciprocate. she notices how the want behind how you're kissing her mirrors her own and it only excites her more. deepening the kiss, - Enid wants everything to be deeper, more intense right now - she slips her tongue into your mouth.

hearing your sighs of content, the way you're groaning in satisfaction at just kissing her, is driving Enid up the wall. lost in the bliss of it, without thinking she presses her heat intensely against your leg. the pressure is both too much and not enough, and somehow she just doesn't care anymore, and starts to rut gently against you. she's surprised when your hands move to her hips, rocking her back and forth. she gasps, her hands tightening their grip on your hair.

it's weird, how good it feels, just a little bit of friction, even through two layers of clothing. it's heaven already, and just what she's needed this whole week.

she can't explain the rush - the feeling of your hands on her body, fingers pressing into her hip, the back of her thigh - it's insane, how much she wants you right now. it's almost primal, the way she's rutting herself against you, panting into your mouth through messy kisses.

she picks up her pace, chasing the faint release she can feel building already. you break the kiss to move down to her neck. kissing her jaw, just underneath her ear. without thinking, she growls. deep and low, right into your ear.

the way she's desperately grinding herself against you, so needy. the hot sounds of her breathless panting, her literal growls. it flips a switch inside you, and Enid gasps when you switch your position so she's underneath you.

the closeness, chest to chest, Enid already twitching her hips upwards, trying to gain friction again. it's clear how turned on you both are. you resume kissing, messier than ever, and you immediately start grinding against eachother. this feels even better than just humping your leg. now she can feel how turned on you are as well, and the feeling of you pressed against her is electric.

you're both a panting mess, the room is hot, roasting even. Enid wastes no time in tugging your shirt off your body, and you throw it away carelessly. returning the favour, you tug on the bottom of her jumper and she practically rips it off of herself. Enid isn't really sure where this is going. it's hot, it's so hot. she does want more, but not right now. she just wants to keep doing exactly this, she needs to keep doing this until she finds the release she's needed following night after night of her brain sexually tormenting her.

the movements of your hips grow sloppier as you're both nearing climax. you're grunting and gasping, while Enid's high pitch moans ring out, contrasted by lower growls whenever friction hits a particular spot that drives her crazy.

it's bliss, and she almost doesn't want it to end. but it's going to, and soon. she can feel the first waves of an orgasm coming and her eyes are already fluttering shut.

"please, please-" she chants breathlessly, over and over in your ear.

her climax finally comes, and it's the greatest relief she's ever felt. the pleasure washes over her and her eyes squeeze shut. she can feel it in every part of her, literally buzzing in her fingertips. she chokes out a moan when she feels your hips stutter and you let out a gasping grunt when the pleasure of your own orgasm arrives. aftershocks hit you both and you twitch against eachother.

panting loudly, and completely blissed out. you collapse next to her. your fingers entertwine and you lie there for a second, holding hands as you both sigh in content.

"wow." you say, chuckling, and you look to her. she moves to snuggle into your chest, hand still joined with yours.

"yeah, wow." she smiles against your chest and you pet her hair gently. you're both exhausted. it's 3 AM at least, and you've really worn yourselves out.

you barely press a kiss to Enid's forehead before she's out cold. adorable in sleep, she's sprawled across you, lips slightly parted.

you smile at seeing her looking this beautiful. she's sweet, and hyper, and she's wild.

she's yours.

A/N - p4rallel-universe's first nsfw fic?? i'm so sick rn but i was very invested in writing this lmfao

[softstarlite]

The Casualty of Love

CHAPTER 2

Summary: He's back home. You have almost forgotten how warm his eyes were and how big your crush for him was.

Warnings: Age gap (Javier is 40 and reader is 27), talks of baby loss, talks of pregnancy, angst, cheating, mentions of cancer, mentions of death.

Rating: +18 (not explicit)

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapter 1 / Masterlist

A/N: here you go guys!! Second chapter is up!! I'm feeling so much better from my stupid cold. I would like to keep a schedule with posting, my goal is to post at least one new chapter every week but I had a cornea transplant less than 5 months ago (I still have 14 stitches on my right eye) so sometimes I need to rest my eye from screen time or the pain sometimes gets too bad and I need to rest in general, so I don't know if I'll be able to meet my goal every week, sorry in advance. I hope you guys like this new chapter!! <3 <3

Divider by @saradika

Javier wipes the sweat of his hands on the front of his jeans for the fourth time in the last hour since he started getting ready to go to Maria´s house, he looks at his reflection on the mirror, he can feel fear engulf his body, fear of disappointing Maria, he wasn't the same man he was when he left for Colombia. That day…

His mom, Alma, had been diagnosed with lung cancer four months before it happened, when Lorraine had told him that she was pregnant, he was shit scared, how could he be a father? He didn't know anything about being one, he was only 27, he assumed that he had at least 5 or 6 years more before even thinking about having a family of his own.

He didn't hesitate to get on one knee and proposed to Lorraine, part of him was happy that his mom would be able to meet at least one of her grandchildren; the doctors had already prepare them for the worst, the cancer was very aggressive, and even if his mom was still young, only 44, they had detected it very late.

The night before the wedding Lorraine showed up at his parents ranch, crying her heart out. They were sleeping in different houses since it was bad luck to see each other before the wedding. He got really worried, he didn't believe in that tradition, she had been the one very keen in doing it so it was already rare that she had showed up there unannounced but even more that she showed up crying.

“Lor? What happened?” he had been sitting on the front porch when she appeared, he got up from his seat quickly and headed to her putting his hands on her cheeks “What is it Lor? Is the baby okay?” he asked her with so much worry in his voice.

Lorraine only kept saying sorry and shaking her head no again and again. “Please baby, tell me what is happening, are you hurt?” he pleaded her.

“I'm sorry Javi… I'm so sorry… There´s no baby…” she said, not able to meet his gaze.

“What? Baby…” he could feel tears in his eyes already, he thought that she had lost it, he never would've thought that she had done what she did. He tries to make her look at him ¡. “Baby…Lor, look at me. Baby it's not your fault, we need to take you-” he was interrupted by her.

“No, Javi… There's no baby, there never has been a baby…” she took a step away from him, feeling shame in what she had done.

“What? Lorraine, this is not funny… Stop it” that was the only possibility in his head, she must have been pranking him, she would never hurt him this way, she loved him, right?

“I'm so sorry Javi, baby…” she tried to reach for him now but he didn't say anything and just walked inside without a word.

The next morning no one could find Javier, until his mom saw a little note on the kitchen table where he had written that he had accepted the job with the DEA in Colombia that the rest could be explained by Lorraine.

You were only 14 when you were sat down by your mom and Alma and got the news about her sickness, that was your first heartbreak, but definitely not your last. You loved Alma like a second mother, she was there when you said your first words, she had been the one encouraging you when you took your first steps… You couldn't imagine a life and a world without her, without her smile or her kindness… No, it had to be a mistake, the doctors mixed up some papers and they gave her the diagnosis of someone else, she couldn't leave you…

When Javier left, you weren't given the real reason from the adults around you, they told you that he and Lorraine weren't together anymore and he had to go work in Colombia, that was it. Obviously, living in a place like Laredo you heard the truth very soon, and felt heartbroken all over again for him, as big as your crush for him was, when you saw how excited he was when he talked about anything related with the baby in the weekly dinners your families shared, it filled your heart to see him just happy, so you couldn't understand how Lorraine had been able to break him like that, she said that he loved him and wanted to spend her entire life with him but then do that? How can you be so cruel to someone that you supposedly love?

A year later from Javier´s move to Colombia, Alma passed away, you only remember crying for three days straight without even sleeping. You remember your mom telling you that “Javiercito is coming for the funeral, he'll be here tomorrow morning”, then the next thing you remember is been dressed in all black, that made you think that Alma would´ve hate it, then not been able to see the casket through the tears and the last thing you remember of that day was how Javier had put his arms around you, caressing your hair and telling you how much Alma loved you and that would never leave you. It never did, you could feel her love everyday, in little things like the chirping of the birds outside, the warm sun, the little desserts you would bake with her recipes, etc…

That was the last time you saw Javier, when you were 15 and crying for the biggest lost in your life.

He parks his truck on Maria´s driveway and gets out with a nervous sigh. After he knocks on the door twice, you open the door with a big smile, fuck, he thought you wouldn't be here. He didn't have a problem with you being here, on the contrary, he was very happy when he saw you the other day, it had been way too long without seeing you. But the problem was that you had grown up… And fuck, did the years had treat you amanzingly. You were a full on woman now, and he didn't like that, because it made his body feel things that it shouldn't. If Maria or his own father could read what had gone through his mind since he first saw you a few days ago, he would definitely be six feet under.

“Hey! You're here!” you say with that big smile on your face. He doesn't say anything, just nods and gives you a tight smile back.

“Come in!” you move a little to give him enough space to come inside. “Mom is still cooking what must be her twentieth dish” you chuckle. He slips inside but you hadn't anticipated how broad his shoulders were so he bumps one of his shoulders into you.

“Oh, sorry” he apologizes and you can't help but feel a million goosebumps all over your body. “She shouldn't have trouble herself…”

You shake the feeling away, you weren't a stupid teenager anymore. “yeah, tell that to her” you smirk knowing he would never dare.

He walks to the kitchen with you behind, he remembers the way as if no time has passed, as if he hadn't gone through more than a decade without putting a foot in this house. When he makes it past the arch of the kitchen, he sees your mom, her back facing him, he can see the grey conquering her whole hair. For a moment he can almost see his own mom beside her cutting some vegetables.

Seeing his silence, you decide to clear your throat to make your presence known to your mom. She turns around starting a sentence that sounds like a question about who was at the door, but as soon as she sees Javier there, before her, her mouth shuts and she freezes. Knowing they'll need a moment, you walk around them to the stove to continue to stir whatever dish your mom is making now, so it doesn't burn while they catch up.

“Javiercito!” she almost screams, launching herself into him, a hand on the back of his head and the other arm across his back.

“Maria…” is all that he can get out of his mouth, apart from the biggest breath out that he has ever let out. He didn't even know that he was holding that breath for so long.

“Déjame verte bien mijo (Let me get a good look at you, my son)” she pulls away from him and pushes him a little back by the shoulders, then looks him up and down like she was examining that he isn´t missing anything.

“Ma, esta bien, no le agobies (Mom, he's fine, don't bother him)” you say from the stove, not even looking at them.

“¿Bien? (fine?) Have you seen him? Está demasiado delgado, gracias a dios que prepare suficiente comida. Siéntate, mijo. (He's too skinny, thank god i´ve prepare enough food. Sit, my son) I'll bring you some food right away” She says, patting his cheek and signaling with a hand to the kitchen table, then she goes back to the stove and replaces the place you were filling.

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief. “Do you want something to drink, Javi?” you ask him while opening the fridge to get a beer for yourself.

He talks again after feeling overwhelmed by the situation. “Sure, whatever you´re having” with that you pull out another beer for him and after uncapping them, you hand him one. “Thanks” he says, not meeting your eye.

You sit across from him on the kitchen table and take a sip of your own beer. Your mom puts a bowl of Pozole in front of each of you, and while you eat, she and Javier talk about a million things, how things around the house had been since your dad died, how you and her go to Chucho´s every now and then, how you help Chucho everytime the fruit trees need harvesting (which brings a blush to your cheeks when Javi asks if that's right and looks at you), and of course your mom starts to let Javi know about all the gossip he has missed in Laredo, which by his face, he couldn't care less to be honest but i guess your mom didn't want to pick that up. He just nods and hums while eating, while your mom tells him about how the girl from the Gonzalez´s was seen in the local theater every week casually talking and giggling with the guy working there; after a bit something pricks his ears, specifically when your name is mentioned.

“And you wouldn't believe all the commotion that it caused , pff, nos tuvimos que quedar en casa varios días antes de que ella se atreviera a enseñar la cara (we had to stay at home for a few days before she was brave enough to show her face)” she says while picking up both of your bowls to bring to the sink. You don't know where to hide in that moment, you couldn't believe your mom was telling him about that.

“Ma…” you say, trying to make her drop the subject. She obviously doesn't want to catch your desperation.

“What? Sorry i was lost in my head for a moment” he says not realizing that you don't want the subject to be brought up.

“Ay mijo, te estaba diciendo (i was telling you) about how she used to go out with the Lopez´s boy, Diego, and she heard from Doña Lucía about him and a girl, that no one knew, been seen in Jacinto´s ice cream shop, then she decided to confront him that same day, but she instead saw him and the girl on the town square just there,” she makes a dramatic gesture with her hands like she was physically pointing at them right there. “just sitting on a bench, muy acaramelados los muy sinvergüenzas (very lovey-dovey, those scoundrels). Doña Lucía told me that she just took the lemonade in the girl's hand and threw it to him, allí delante de todos, ¿tu te crees, mijo? (in front of everybody, can you believe it, my son?)” she shakes her head in almost disappointment.

“Well, if I'm honest with you Maria. Creo que le hizo poco, yo le hubiese dado un buen puño” you can see how his hands become fists, and his jaw becomes more tense. Javi feels a fire inside of him that he hasn't felt since he left Colombia, he already knows that if he crosses paths with Diego Lopez, he won't be exactly kind towards him.”Wait, he cheated and you had to hide at home?!” he asks, now looking at you.

“I didn't hide, she did” you say pointing towards your mom, who's washing the dishes, with your head. “I was just going through a breakup like a normal person” you shrug your shoulders to try to take some weight off of the conversation.

He nods, understanding now the situation. “Good, you shouldn't feel embarrassed, it's his loss” he huffs “He must be as stupid as he was when he was a kid” he says more to himself than to you, it makes you blush again.

“Javier Jesús Peña!!” your mom scolds him from the sink, turning her head towards him. Javi for a moment feels like a teenager again, being scolded by Maria and his mom for saying a bad word in the kitchen of Pena´s ranch while they make empanadas.

“What? No podes defender al desgraciado, hizo daño a nuestra vampirita (you can't defend that bastard, he hurted our little vampire” he chuckles sincerely now. You gasp at the mention of your old childhood nickname he gave you for being obsessed with the book Dracula when you were 9 years old.

“You don't want to play that game, Peña” you challenge him, squinting your eyes at him, but a little smile in your lips betrays your facade. He laughs with his whole belly now, throwing his head back. You decide right then that you like seeing him laugh sincerely a lot.

After some hours of more delicious food and banter, Javier informs you that he needs to go back to the ranch before his dad comes looking for him for leaving him all day alone with the chores.

You walk him to the door, his arms full of mountains of tupperware full of leftovers that your mom had insisted him to take for himself and Chucho.

You open the door for him since he has his hands occupied, those hands that you´ve been stealing glances to all day, you wonder how rough they would feel around your own hand, around your neck, around your- “Thanks for um… everything” he says interrupting your thread of thoughts.

“Don't mention it” you give him a shy smile, like he could´ve read what you had been thinking. Next thing you know, your mouth is working by it´s own mind, you ask without thinking.”Are you going to the barbecue at Doña Lucia's house this Sunday after church?” when you realize how eager your voice sounds about the prospect of seeing him again in less than two days you add “I believe she invited Chucho the other day, and i'm sure she did it in person with the sole purpose of having you at the barbecue and confirm the rumors of you being fully back home” you chuckle trying to play it cool, god you felt like you were 15 again, drooling for him.

His dad had told him about the gathering but he wasn't planning on going, but now, seeing the slight spark your eyes got when you asked him about his possible attendance, he couldn't think of a better plan for Sunday. “Yeah, my pops told me the other day. I take you´re going too?” you nod with doe eyes and he can't help his eyes for going down to where you tongue tips out of your mouth to wet your lower lip, he gulps and can feel a drop of sweat going down his spine; his mind wondering how you tongue and your lips might feel against his own, against his neck or his chest…

Your mom suddenly yells your name from inside the house. “Dani is calling you, mija!!” you both can hear her voice coming from the living room where the telephone is.

“Dila que voy ma!! (tell her i'll be right there mom!!)” you yell towards her, turning your head over your shoulder, then you turn towards Javi again. You guys keep looking into each other's eyes for what feels like a second and an eternity at the same time until you decide that if you don't stop it, your mom will come over and ruin the moment even more. “I'll see you on Sunday then?”

He nods and then does something that makes you melt into a puddle of water into the ground, he kisses your cheek and with a breathy and deep whisper wishes you a good day to then turn around and walk to his truck on the driveway. You can't help but to stay right there frozen with your heart going way too fast and an almost shocked expression, watching how he puts the leftovers on the passenger side then gets behind the wheel and drives away; it isn´t until your mom calls your name again that you defroze.

Next chapter

[jdeclerc]

to dream of you

pairing: rhysand x reader

summary: Rhys has come home. It is not the return of the mate you once knew but his homecoming brings a second chance nonetheless.

author's note: this idea has lived in my head for longer than I'd like to admit so I finally put fingers to keys and wrote it, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

warnings: some PTSD and slight allusions to SA

word count: 3,003

The sky outside of my room shows no sign of turning to morning, telling me that my fruitless attempts at sleep lasted much less time than it seemed. Sleep had evaded me from the moment I made my way to bed earlier in the night, as it had for the past half century. Falling into bed no longer held the same prospect of rest and retreat from the outside world, no sanctuary was to be found behind a closed bedroom door. And after the events of the last few weeks, I was beginning to believe it never would again.

 I rise from the bed and pull the robe I had discarded earlier tightly around myself. I give the bed a wistful look before making my way to the door and stepping into the hallway, closing it behind me as silently as possible. My feet begin following a familiar path through the hallways of the House of Wind, my steps seemingly having a mind of their own. It was only when I turn a corner, look up, and meet the eyes of the Night Court’s war general that I truly knew where my path has taken me.

Cassian gives me the smallest of smiles as I approach. Without a word he opens his arms for me to step into. As he wraps them around me and leans his head onto mine, I know that he could tell it is exactly what I need.

His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, “I thought I was meant to be the only one awake at this time of night. We agreed you would get some sleep, now didn’t we dear sister?”

“I tried Cas, I promise I did. Tomorrow…I’ll try again tomorrow, like we agreed.”

I step back from his arms, look to Cassian’s left forearm and then to my own, our matching marks staring back at me.

“I don’t destroy the training ring every day and you try to find rest by getting into bed every night…quite the pair we make.”

I can’t help but let out a small laugh at his words, “That we do Cas…you know I wouldn’t have made it through the last 50 years without you.”

“And you know both Azriel and I wouldn’t have made it 5 minutes without you Y/N, you saved us.”

“We saved each other, don’t ever forget that.” I can tell by the look in his eyes he knows this to be true, that our family could get through anything if it could survive what we had. “Has he gotten any sleep tonight, do you know?”

At my words we both turn toward the open door behind Cassian. Through it we have an unobstructed view of the bedroom, or rather the empty room that used to be a bedroom. No longer did the Illyrian sized bed or matching nightstands rest against the far wall. The ancient bookcase and large armchairs that surrounded the fireplace on the opposite wall were also missing. Instead, they had been moved to the balcony, protected by a ward from the elements. No entrance is granted unless expressly given by the balcony’s occupant. It is a room fit for someone who needs an uninterrupted view of the stars in the sky, to feel the breeze against his skin, and to smell the air coming off the mountain.

From our vantage point we can just make out a head of raven hair laying on the left side of the bed, turned away from the door.

“He has been asleep for almost an hour now, I’m not sure if it will last but I’m hopeful. It’s the fourth night he’s refused Madja’s sleeping tonic, each night has brought longer bouts of sleep…but the nightmares –”

“They wake him, every night. I feel it when it happens, he sends wave upon wave of distress and fear down the bond.” I can feel the tears in my eyes when I look up at Cassian.

“He doesn’t know you feel it does he?”

I shake my head, “I know he attempts to close the feelings off from me, but I feel it all the same. I have since the first night he returned. The bond has been dormant for so long that everything is heightened. It’s why I have yourself and Azriel stand watch, I need someone to be here for him.”

“It should be you Y/N, you’re who he needs. I know he hasn’t been the same around any of us, but we need to –”

“He flinched Cas,” the look I receive at my interruption is one of confusion, “He flinched when I embraced him the day he returned, and he has kept his distance from me since. He may never need…may never want me again…so I give him everything I can from afar.”

I had not told any of them about what occurred on the day of Rhys’ return, of how he reacted to my touch as though it was engulfed in flame. Our interactions since had consisted of looks across the dining table and passing glances in the halls. The closest we came to touching again was when I handed him the book I knew he would be looking for in the library, the one I had kept beside my bed everyday he was gone because he had been in the middle of reading it.

I don’t realize my tears have begun to fall until I feet Cassian brush them away.

“He will come back to you Y/N, he may not be the same as when he left but he will return all the same. His love for you may just be the most impressive thing I have ever witnessed. Well, that and Azriel’s wingspan...which I will deny ever having said but it’s true all the same.”

I match his grin with one of my own, “Oh, he’ll be hearing about this. Of that you should have no doubt.”

“Do what you must you cruel female, I will take any retribution brought to me if it means that smile stays on your face for a moment longer…it has been sorely missed these last fifty years.”

“Thank you, Cas, for everything. Come find me before you head to bed in the morning, I wish to know how the night ends so we can adjust things if needed. I’ll be in the office, or the dining room should Azriel wish for our meal together tomorrow to be breakfast.”

“You will have every detail Y/N. Promise me only mundane court affairs this evening, if you must work let it be menial paperwork.”

“Only mundane court affairs, I promise.” I give Cassian a short hug before departing down the hallway, I can feel his worry upon my back with every step.

The office door is ajar when I reach it but is empty upon my entrance. As I round the desk I find a steaming cup of tea, my favourite biscuits, and a note that reads:

Y/N,

The house promised to keep the tea warm until you arrived.

I love you sister.

I expect to find an empty cup and plate when I come to collect you for breakfast in the morning. If you insist on working through the night, I insist on giving you simple comforts while you do so.

Your favourite brother,

- A

I smile down at the note, knowing words don’t come as easily to Azriel as they do to Cassian. Prythian will never know the heart of the shadowsinger and how deeply his love runs for his family. But I cherish every moment he trusts me with it.

---------

I’m not sure how much time has passed when the heavy silence of the House of Wind is broken, broken by a voice I had begged the Mother countless times to hear just one more time. One I would never again take for granted.

“You look much better behind that desk than I ever did.”

It takes me a moment to gather the courage to look up. I am not met with a sly grin or cheeky look but one of deep longing.

“It is the view of you behind this desk I wish to have restored. Sitting behind it was never a burden I wished to carry.” I regretted my choice of words the moment they left my mouth. His face betrays no feelings of hurt though. “Rhys, I…I’m sorry, that was unfair of me to say.”

“Say it again.”

“Wha –”

“My name, say it again.”

“Rhys…Rhysand.”

I realize it is the first time I have said his full name since he returned, I have resisted using it because it brings emotions to the surface I don’t wish to face. But I feel his relaxation through the bond, as though his name on my tongue is a salve to a wound I can’t see.

We fall into a few moments of silence, both of us never looking away from the other. It is Rhys who speaks first. “Walk with me?”

I manage only a nod in response. Wanting nothing more than to be with him in any way he would allow and not wanting to end the closest we had come to normalcy since his return.

He waits until I meet him in the doorway to begin our journey. I am unsure of his path, so I follow him in silence, allowing him to take control. He leads me to the giant balcony off the main foyer of the house and comes to a stop at its edge. I do the same, leaving an arm’s length of space between us.

I can’t say how much time we pass looking at the stars over Velaris, standing in utter silence. It is he who breaks the silence once more.

“It was your voice.”

Four words that raise countless questions in my head, but I remain silent, letting Rhys speak freely. I simply watch his profile, relishing in the ability to do so.

“That is what I missed most. Not the stars in the sky, nor the wind upon my wings. Not your scent, not even the memory of your skin upon mine but your voice. I longed to hear it’s rasp when we rose early in the morning, how it skipped when I brought you to the edge of euphoria, your laugh in response to one of Cassian’s terrible jokes. Even recalling arguments in which you, deservedly so, yelled at me brought me comfort.”

His quickly glances over at me as his voice begins to catch in his throat, he does his best to compose himself before he continues.

“I can’t imagine how these weeks have felt for you, I have spent every moment trying to find the right words but all of them have felt wrong. But I know I want to apologize; I haven’t been who you hoped I would be upon my return.”

It is hard for him, I realize, to give words to the fae he had become under the mountain. How it changed and molded him into someone entirely different than the one who left. How he thought he was no longer the mate I knew and loved.

“Who I hoped you would be? You silly, foolish male.” I shake my head in disbelief. “Look at me Rhys.” He meets my eyes. I hold his gaze, wanting him to hear every word I am about to say. “My only hope was that you would come home. For fifty years that is all I have wanted. Even if you came home and felt differently about all of us…about me, it didn’t matter. You would be home.”

He gives me the smallest of smiles and closes his eyes as he lets out a breath.

“You must know, I could never not need you – and I’ve certainly never stopped wanting you.”

“You heard me talking to Cas.” It isn’t a question; we both know it to be the truth.

“After fifty years of being closed off it would seem as though the bond responds to you at every turn. I awoke the moment you stopped outside the door, just having you near was enough. I didn’t want you to leave on account of my being awake.”

I have no rebuttal; we both know that the distance between us has not been completely one-way. I have never found the courage to speak with him either.

“I…after you first got back, I didn’t want you to feel as though I was pushing myself on you. I knew I needed to give you space.”

“Y/N…” I can hear the catch in Rhys’ throat once more, can see him swallow and force himself to continue. “Over the last half century touch has been used against me. It never held true affection, it was used as a tool of manipulation and control. Yours was the opposite. I felt your utter relief and unending love at the sight of me – it was overwhelming, and I reacted without thought. I’m so sorry to have caused you to think I didn’t want you near.” I can tell he is struggling to form his words, to relive the nightmare he had only recently escaped. And I can’t bear it as tears began to form in his eyes.

“You need not explain yourself or apologize to me. I hope to one day be let into that mind of yours – to know all that you have survived so that I can give you support however I can, but it need not be today. Nor even a decade from now, I will take what you give when you feel ready to give it.”

“You will know, as you have known every corner of my mind since we were younglings. It may take time, but you will know.” It is then that he reaches for my hand, tentatively, as though he has never done it before. He grasps it in both of his own, never taking his eyes off of them. “The cauldron surely made a mistake in bestowing a mate like you upon the likes of me. I will never deserve all that you have given me or this court. It is a debt that can never be repaid.”

“Rhys…what do you mean?”

“I had Cassian and Azriel show me what occurred in my absence, what they allowed me to see that is. There were gaps in what they showed me…because of their love for you, I think. Some things, they said, are for only you to tell me. I hope to learn them one day, every single detail.” His brow furrows with his next set of words. He grips my hand tighter and locks eyes with me. “I saw you give away every piece of yourself, you faded away as you refused to let those around you slip.”

“I did what any of them would have done, it was what they needed – it didn’t matter what happened to me, it only mattered that you had something to come home to.” I don’t stop the tears as they come this time, they are matched by those in Rhys’ eyes.

“You are my home. You are what I desperately hoped to return to. You are more than anyone in Prythian deserves. I hope to, one day, be deserving of the sacrifices you made, the mate you deserve once again.”

“You have always been deserving of me, who you are at any given time is deserving. For the first time in half a century I feel like I can breathe, I feel complete with you here…no matter what that looks like.”

“And I am on my way there, racing as fast as I can to match you. My steps may be those of a babe for a time; short and unsure. But I want to move forward, closer to you, all the same. I love you more than you could know Y/N, give me time and I will show you this in every way imaginable.”

“The pace of your steps is irrelevant, I’m just happy I get to see them once again. We are in this as a pair, as we always have been.”

Rhys drops my hand and straightens to his full height, looking every bit the part of a High Lord. He extends his right hand into the space between us.

“Then let us strike a bargain. We do this together. We take steps forward to grow and heal, as one, never letting the other fall far behind.”

I put my hand in his and we close our grips around one another.

“As one.”

If the look on his face is any indication, I know Rhys feels the seal of our bargain at the same time I do. I look down to see identical markings on the inside of our right wrists.

We drop each other’s hands and fell into a comfortable silence, both leaning against the railing of the balcony. I can tell that Rhys is exhausted, both mentally and physically. He seems reluctant to leave, reluctant to admit how much one conversation has so utterly drained him.

“It’s alright Rhys.”

He hums in response and gives me a questioning look.

“Go back to your room, you need sleep. I will be fine.”

“Our room.” He frowns at his own words. “It will be one day again, give me time.”

I give him a tentative smile in return.

“We’ve got all the time in the world.”

He reaches down to squeeze my hand before releasing it and begins making his way toward the door. I call his name and stop him just as he reaches it and is about to walk through. He turns to face me.

“Do me a favour.”

“Name it.”

“Try and dream for me, you deserve the peace it will bring.”

My words are met with an expression holding a difficult story I do not yet know and before Rhys disappears into the house he says,

“I simply think of you darling and I’m already dreaming.”

[mayajadewrites]

Levi Ackerman x Reader: Moth to a Flame

synopsis: Levi Ackerman - Captain of the Scout Regiment. He's broody, quiet, and clean. You're a scout, skilled in combat and has killed numerous titans. You dated Captain Levi briefly, in secret, in a whirlwind romance. Late nights and secrets are what kept your "relationship" afloat. Due to Levi's ideals, he decided to end things with you, but now you're moved on. But Levi hasn't.

authors note: this takes place in the AOT universe, and it will reference SOME of the events from the anime, so be aware if you're not caught up. i won't be following the timeline of the manga/anime.

characters: levi ackerman, erwin smith, erin jaeger, mikasa ackerman, armin arlot, jean kirstein, sasha braus, connie springer, hange zoe, + more.

content warnings: some chapters will be nsfw. i will put a warning before each chapter if it contains 18+ content.

ao3

C H A P T E R O N E – A U T U M N

The air was cold and crisp as it flowed through your window to the room you shared with Mikasa and Sasha. Summer is over and autumn has kissed the leafs on the trees.

Your body twitched as the air touched your skin. You made a mental note to start sleeping with a sweatshirt on. Sasha's snores filled the room while Mikasa slept silently.

You grab your watch from your nightstand and look at the time. 5:45 AM. You like to go on runs before breakfast to get your heart rate up and get some vitamin D before you had to attend training for your next mission.

After putting a t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers, you're out the door. The girls won't be up for another hour, so you didn't want to disturb them.

As you walk down the hallway, you put your hair in a ponytail, looking at your feet as you walk.

Then your body collided with another.

"Sorry." You say before you even look up at who's in front of you.

Captain Levi Ackerman.

"Sorry, Captain." You correct yourself, standing up straight.

"Where are you off to?" Levi brushed off his shirt, freshly pressed of course.

"I'm going on a run before breakfast."

Levi nodded in response, pushing past you towards Erwin's office. You sighed when you felt it was safe to, ignoring the pending thoughts in your head.

Levi Ackerman broke your heart, and you just super-glued the pieces back together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Breakfast was usually the same in the scouts. Eggs, bread, and sometimes bacon. Everyone sits in what we call the "mess hall" and eats breakfast together before we put our bodies through the ultimate torture which is training to fight titans.

You find your usual table – Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Jean, Sasha, and Connie.

"Good morning!" Sasha said as she stuffed her face with eggs. "I heard you leave this morning, how was your run?"

"I'm surprised you could hear me over your snoring." You chuckle, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "It was good. The sun felt good this morning, I'm so glad its finally autumn."

"You go on runs every morning?" Jean asked, patting his mouth with his napkin.

"Yeah, I like to prepare myself for training for the day."

You didn't want to say that Levi gave you the idea to go on runs every morning. He goes on runs earlier than you, thank God, because you'd rather not have to see him more than you already do.

"I might have to start doing that. I feel like I run really slow." Eren nodded to himself. I knew Mikasa was now going to also be going on runs in the morning with Eren. They are inseparable.

"That's awesome." Jean smiled as he said your name. He's always been sweet and funny, especially with Connie. They make you laugh every day, even on your worst days.

You feel the hair on the back of your neck stick up, a wave of goosebumps to follow. Your ears honed in on the sound of his boots against the floor.

You hated that Levi had this affect on you.

He was talking to Hange about her latest Titan experiment, which he sounded less than thrilled about. You made a conscious effort not to look at him.

"Morning Captain!" Armin said with a smile. He's always so joyful in the morning, which is something you envy.

"Good morning brats." Levi nodded in approval, his eyes glazing over yours for a split second.

A memory of you waking up next to him flashed in your mind, a time when you accidentally fell asleep after spending the night talking, kissing, and obviously... other activities.

"You good?" Jean's voice was like a pin to your thoughts, popping them instantly. "You looked like you're spacing out."

"Yeah, I was just thinking about how good a cup off coffee would be right now. I'm gonna go get some." You get up from your seat, shaking off the feeling of your memory.

"I've never felt like this." Levi kissed your ear, his voice low in your ear. His hand snaked up your body to your face, taking your chin roughly in his hands and pulling it towards his face. "You're one of a kind."

Life without Levi has been tough, but you have gotten over the gash of heartbreak he left. Seeing him every day for training and missions has gotten easier, and thankfully he doesn't want to see you any more than you do him.

Or so you think.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

let me know what you guys think so far!