#but I've been drawing it the same way for like almost a year now so I wanted to shake it up a bit<3

[chipistrate]

No finished art today but here's a wip Just redrawing my PFP and messing with how I draw Gregory's hair ^^

high res version of my pfp below comparison

#my art #chipillustrates #chip wip #dr rabbit #ggy #I like how I draw Gregory's hair and maybe I'll go back to it #but I've been drawing it the same way for like almost a year now so I wanted to shake it up a bit<3 #I was so proud of my pfp art even to this day and then I redrew it and just. Holy Shit my style has Changed in the past 6 months LMAO #tempting to redraw the whole thing now but I have like. a bajillion other wips #maybe one day

[literaila]

three things

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: a fun trip to the grocery store (how do you raise children?)

warnings: a bit of anxiety, a bit too much of gojo

last part | next part

*

year one.

"no, satoru." 

how many times have you said that today? 

how many times has satoru pouted--like he's doing right now--and put back whatever he'd plucked off the shelf, grumbling something about how you hated him or you weren't his mom or how he was the one buying everything? 

oh, too many times to count. you stopped after five. 

megumi rolls his eyes with you, already familiar with this routine, looking at everything in the cart again with the same analytical eye he's had since you all walked into the store. you're pretty sure he's counting the total cost.

it might be cute--the way his frown deepens just a little bit after each new item is added--if it didn't worry you completely. 

because it's the first time you've taken the two of them to the store, and the first time you're trying to recall everything their eyes trail over, the things they want but neither of them will say.

you're trying to remember yourself as a kid--if you begged your parents for anything you could possibly want, or if you stood there and stared longingly. but your childhood has always been a dull memory you keep hidden in the attic of your mind. 

so you're not sure what to expect. 

because neither of them has asked for much, since the first night. tsumiki requested a notebook she could draw in, and megumi asked if you could get gojo to stop talking to him. 

the first which you did immediately, even letting gojo get her some expensive pencils to draw with, the second which you... tried. 

it hasn't been easy, the past few days. settling two kids into a dysfunctional house didn't exactly fit into your schedule for the week. 

"why not?" satoru demands, walking right along slide you, pushing the cart because you'd forced him to. "we need dessert." 

"there are seven different types of dessert already in there. i'm hiding at least three of those, by the way." 

"i'll find them," satoru grins mischievously, but waves a hand. "we've got two extra people in the house now. i'm not just shopping for me. do you want them to starve?" 

you roll your eyes, again. then pull on his hair, which he squeaks at. "you're only shopping for you. i've seen your pantries, you know. and i lived with you for three years. we all saw your grocery lists." 

satoru is about to say something, but tsumiki giggles. maybe at the stupid way his face looks. 

the way he's almost smiling, even in denial. how his eyes show from just behind his glasses, his brows moving like a separate entity on his face. 

you haven't really talked to him, the past couple of days. nothing beyond a question about megumi's technique, or where the two of them went to school. 

how long will it take before you finally ask him--

you look over to tsumiki, shaking your head at satoru and smiling back. 

"megumi doesn't like sweets much," she adds to you, easily.

you add it to the mental list of things you know about them.

you look at the little boy, and he nods, looking straight ahead. his shoes catch on the ground every couple of steps like they don't fit right. 

satoru gasps like this is an outrage. because not drinking straight sugar is offensive to him. 

"what?" he asks, stopping all three of you so he can grab megumi by the shoulders. "were you cursed?" he inspects the boy carefully, peering over the glasses on his face.

megumi seems to sink back with each glance of his eyes, his face turning red. 

"cursed to deal with you, maybe," you tell him, pushing him away from megumi. the boy fixes his hair--which had been pushed over his eyes--and glares at satoru.

"he doesn't like sweets?" the man repeats, mouth open, glancing at all three of you like he's not sure that any of you are sane.

"you say that as if you don't eat enough for all four of us." 

"i need the calories," satoru whines, fluttering his eyelashes at you. you ignore him--and the funny way you feel about the gesture.

you look at both of the kids, observing the two of you closely, and give them a look. a look as in, he's crazy. 

megumi swallows. "i like dango." 

"great!" you nudge satoru to keep walking. "we'll get some." 

"that's it?" satoru prods. "what about--" 

you pinch his hip and shake your head, glaring at him when he pouts at you again. 

you step on his heels as you walk through the aisles, still watching the kids with sharp eyes, trying to figure out anything they might want. 

tsumiki murmurs something to megumi every once and a while, but beyond that, they only walk alongside you and satoru, stepping out of the way of any other adults that pass by. 

honestly, you might as well have taken them to the park. they don't even glance at any of the shelves--except when satoru pushes one of them away to grab something. at least at the park, they'd be getting some fresh air. 

after you sigh in--what? frustration? disappointment?--for the fourth time, satoru gives you a look, raising his brows. you shake your head. 

he nudges you with his shoulder but doesn't say anything. whistling while he sneaks more sugar into the cart. 

after the fifteenth minute of this, megumi falls in stride beside you and you look down at him. his eyes evade yours, focusing on the necklace you're wearing instead.

"um, i have to use the restroom," he says to you, soft and embarrassed. 

"okay," you place a hand on his back, gently turning him around, "i think it's just over here," you say, listening as satoru follows along idly. 

"me too," tsumiki says, trailing on your other side. 

the store is almost completely empty, so you tell the two of them that you'll wait right outside the door, and lean against the wall, watching the both of them disappear. 

satoru is already looking at you. 

"what?" you groan, glaring at the doors. 

"what what?" 

you sigh. his voice is annoying. "why are you looking at me?" 

satoru is too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours--uncomfortably of course because he is the worst--without a care in the world. "what's up?" 

"what do you mean?" 

"why are you acting weird?" 

"i'm not acting weird," you look at him, frowning. 

he's wiping his glasses on his shirt--like he can actually see out of them--and looking at you quizzically. "oh, so you staring at tsumiki and megumi like they're a science experiment isn't weird?" 

you ignore him and his stupid blue eyes. 

"if i was doing that you'd push me down a flight of stairs, but okay..." 

you sigh again, rolling your eyes. and then again. and then you relent because satoru's silence will inevitably break you. "they haven't asked for anything," you say, almost whining to him. "you told them they could pick out whatever they want." 

satoru shrugs. "so they don't want anything." 

"everyone wants something, satoru. especially kids." 

"everyone?" 

"yes. i'd expect you to know better than anyone," he laughs but you frown. "it's a human trait." 

he smirks, leaning down towards you. "what do you want, then?" 

you scoff, flicking his forehead. "i want them to feel comfortable. and i want you to stop bugging megumi." 

"but he makes it so easy," satoru says, pretending to be innocent.

"you're the adult, here," you say, even though you don't really believe it--nor should you. "act like it." 

"all the kid does is scowl," satoru complains. "i'm just trying to make him comfortable." 

"by invading his space?" 

"you stare from far away, i stare from up close." 

"you antagonize." 

satoru grins, crossing his arms, very pleased with himself. he's silent again. 

the past year has almost made you forget that satoru knows you like this. he's always known how to keep you talking, how to read your face and your hesitant glances. 

it's not like time could make him forget. it's not like you've forgotten anything about him. 

"you aren't worried?" you ask, after a second. 

"about the kids?" 

"yes," you say, obviously, "that we're already messing something up." 

he gives you a dubious look. "it's been four days." 

and he's right. you can't expect to understand either one of them after seventy-two hours of merely knowing about their existence. but you don't know how to treat kids like these, because any mistake you make--anything you say--will inevitably come back to haunt you. 

"it's--" you shake your head. satoru doesn't worry about anything, so you don't even know why you're bringing it up. "it's like when you play with someone else's kid and feel like you're breaking some unspoken rule. except this time we're the ones making the rules. there's no one to tell us if we mess up." 

"i think megumi would tell us," satoru answers, almost sarcastically. 

"he's the kid, idiot," you groan. "he doesn't know." 

"rude," satoru is still grinning. "what could you have messed up, at this point? all you've been doing is asking them questions. that's pretty straightforward." 

"maybe it's too much, too fast." 

satoru snorts, shaking his head at you. "grocery shopping?" 

"everything." 

satoru raises a brow at you, watching as you deflate. you feel like each move you make takes a little more air out of you, and who's to say when you'll finally run out? 

how many mistakes do you have to make to finally get it right? 

and you know--and you know that he knows--that it's not just about them, but about you. is this too fast? is this too much?

satoru rests a hand on your head. "you're too in your head about this." 

"well, i have to do it for the both of us." 

he ignores that. "if they need something, they'll ask," the words are soft, genuine. he's completely sure like he always is. "you made it clear that we're just here to help. it's been four days." 

you sigh, nodding reluctantly. 

"we'll figure it out," he says, simply. "you don't need to worry about anything. i mean, i'm here, so..." 

you push his hand away, glaring. "megumi doesn't even talk to you." 

"hey, yes he does." 

"to call you a freak, maybe. or tell you to shut up." 

"don't be jealous of my relationship with megumi. we're bonding." 

you roll your eyes but find a laugh making its way out of you. 

he's always been good at this, too. making everything seem easy. 

when tsumiki comes out of the bathroom door, she smiles at the sight of the two of you still there--both talking animatedly, with similar glares in your eyes. she settles in beside satoru, copying him as she leans against the wall. 

"you think i'm great, don't you tsumiki?" satoru asks her, goading. 

she nods immediately. 

you snort and look away while tsumiki giggles when satoru leans down to smack a kiss on her cheek. 

something inside of you warms, just briefly. 

and then megumi comes out, rubbing his hands together. unlike tsumiki, he glares at satoru and chooses to stand beside you. 

"okay," satoru clasps his hands together. "are you both ready to go?" 

"um," you turn to him. "satoru we haven't--" 

megumi nods immediately, looking a bit brighter at the prospect, and tsumiki furrows her brows, questioning. 

"great! both of you pick out three things that you want and then we'll leave." 

megumi glowers. 

"three things?" you clear your throat. "they need more--" 

"three things," satoru repeats, looking right at megumi while he says it. some words pass non-verbally between the two of them. you might have to tell satoru not to talk to megumi about anything without you. "we'll get everything else we need." 

tsumiki runs alongside megumi and grabs his arm, which he allows, though you watch his eyes roll. 

"go on," satoru shoos them away, smiling all proudly. when they're gone, he turns to you again. "there. now you don't have to worry about picking something they like." 

and he reaches his hand to grab yours, as a simple habit. 

satoru has never tip-toed around the line of physical contact. even with shoko, even when she would push him off.

something passes between the two of you. holding his hand is familiar; egged on by four years of standing alongside him. 

you try not to flinch away from the contact. 

and, sure, satoru probably just lost both of them in the store, and you don't actually have everything else you need, or know what those things are, but he's smiling at you. 

he's trying to be reassuring. 

so you smile back and let him hold your hand. 

"we'll figure it out," he whispers to you, and you push the cart this time while the two of you try to find the children he just lost.

*

later that night--after forcing satoru to put away the groceries with the rest of you--megumi lets you sneak into his room with a (third) bag of candy that satoru grabbed last second, acting like you wouldn't notice. 

"where's the best hiding spot for this?" you ask him, looking around.

it's pretty doubtful that satoru would risk going into megumi's room just to look for it. and, you're sure, that megumi probably wouldn't let satoru open the door, nonetheless go through his things.

the boy points at his dresser and moves some clothes so you can hide it at the bottom of one of the drawers. he doesn't even question your motivations.

as you back out of the room again, you make him promise not to tell, and, for a single second, megumi smiles back at you, crossing his heart. 

*

next part

#gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo #satoru gojō x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x y/n #a typical family

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Are you sure they like each other? (Alyssa Naeher x Reader)

Barely edited and I don't know if I happy with this, but I wanted to put something out. I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Alyssa and reader are together, but very stoic and not affectionate in public. Think the team know they're together, apparently not. Start to question if they even like each other. Alyssa and reader turn into soft, love sick people when alone.

Warnings: Tiny bit suggestive, some swearing

Words: 3.3K

Alyssa had slipped out, taking our bags up to the room while I was surrounded by some of the team. I had offered to help, but she had insisted I stay to catch up, leaving before I could protest. Neither of us would be considered extroverts, though I was the one who liked to talk a bit more. Kristie pulled me into a tight hug before a few of the girls following suit, "How was your break Y/n?"

"It was pretty good. Alyssa and I just took it easy. Spent some time fixing up some of the stuff around the house I haven't had the time to do. Visited family, that sort of thing."

Confusion covered their faces, Kelley being the first one to speak up, "Wait. You spent the break with Alyssa?"

Now it was my turn to be confused. Alyssa and I had been together for almost 5 years, living together for 3. It wasn't something that had been hidden. Our relationship wasn't public knowledge, but friends and family knew we were together, or so I thought anyway. We weren't an affectionate couple in public or even with our friends, barely ever touching past an occasional hand on the back, a short hug after a game or if we were going to be apart. Occasionally, we would hold hands at home with family or I would lay with my head in her lap during movie night. I loved Alyssa more than words would describe, there was no doubt in my mind she felt the same. Public affection just made us both very uncomfortable.  

"Why wouldn't I? We live together."

"Wait what? You and Alyssa live together?"

"You didn't know? We weren't hiding it. You know we're together right?"

Kelley looked as if I had grown a second head, "You and Alyssa are dating? No we didn't know that! What the hell Y/n?"

Alyssa's hand touched my lower back, letting me know she was there before dropping back to her side. "What's happening here? Why is there yelling?"

"Apparently they're just finding out we live together and have been together for the last almost 5 years."

"5 years?!? And you didn't tell us?"

Even Alyssa looked confused at this point, "What do you mean didn't tell you? It was never hidden. We assumed you knew."

Accusatory glares were sent our way while Alyssa and I just stood there confused. This was not how I expected my morning to go. "You've never kissed, held hands, cuddled or done anything remotely couple like. How were we supposed to know?"

"We've held hands a few times and I sleep against her on the bus sometimes. I get her coffee and breakfast every morning, Alyssa gets me flowers every week even at camp. Pretty sure we've mentioned our anniversary before. We say 'I love you' to each other all the time. Did none of you find that weird?"

"You're always sitting next to each other on the bus so no and we just figured you were close friends or something. I think there's been one time that you've gotten flowers from her in front of us."

"I've seen that a few times actually, but its always when she seems to have a bad day," Tierna spoke up. 

Alyssa shrugged, "Well yeah, I get them every week, but if she's having a bad day then I'll get them on that day to cheer her up. Look, we just don't like PDA, we weren't hiding anything from you. We really thought you knew about us. And before you even ask, no we're not going to prove it. Now we're going to our room."

As soon as we entered our room, I flopped down on the bed, scooting over slightly when Alyssa lay down next to me. I pushed myself into her arms, leaving kisses on her jaw, her hand slipping under my shirt to draw random patterns. "You unpacked my stuff."

Alyssa held me closer, kissing my forehead. People held the impression that Alyssa disliked physical touch, which she did with most people. In reality, Alyssa loved cuddling with me, she loved holding my hand and kissing me. Just touching in general actually. When we first started dating, it was a welcome surprise. I expected some affection, but not as much as I received. There was definitely no complaints from me, I loved cuddling with my partners. "I always do, don't I?"

"You do and I appreciate it, but you don-"

She cut me off with a quick peck before speaking up not giving me the chance, "My love, how many times have you said I don't have to, yet I do it anyway?"

"Pretty much every camp," I mumbled against her neck, knowing what her response was going to be. It was always the same.

"Exactly. I do it because I love you and I want to make your day a little bit easier so how about you just accept it and let me do it."

It wasn't that I didn't like it, in fact I loved that she did it. I just always felt slightly bad when people did things for me. "Fine. I still can't believe they didn't know about us. I really thought they did."

"So did I. Maybe they just don't listen to us at all. It was all kind of entertaining though."

"It was, I can't believe they were so clueless. I have a feeling Emily is going to be annoying though. She had her mischief face on."

Alyssa's hand traveled further up my side as she rolled on top of me, "Unfortunately, I think you're right, but right now there are other things I would rather do than talk about Emily."

---

Just as I sat down for breakfast, Emily and Kelley slid onto the chairs in front of me. They just stared at me until I snapped, asking what they wanted. This was not what I needed early in the morning especially when I had only been awake for like half an hour. Alyssa was always down for breakfast after me, preferring to take her time to get ready and do her puzzles, while I just wanted coffee. 

"So you and Alyssa are together right?"

"Uh yeah, why?"

"Just checking. How long have you been together?"

"Almost 5 years."

"How did you meet?"

I looked at between Emily and Kelley, trying to figure out why I was being interrogated once again, about my relationship. At this point, I was pretty sure the team believed we were lying or something. "You know this already."

"We forgot."

Alyssa approached, giving me a quick smile which I returned, "Perfect timing. I'm being interrogated about our relationship again."

"Why?"

I shrugged, pushing Alyssa's breakfast in front of her receiving a quite thank you. I didn't answer Kelley's question, instead deciding to eat breakfast before it got cold. "Are you two being forced to be together?"

Both of our heads shot up at that. It was such a ridiculous question. There would be no logical reason for us to be pretending to be together especially considering we weren't public knowledge. I bit back my laugh before answering, "What? What makes you think that? Why would that be a thing?"

Emily shrugged, "You just don't seem to like each other like that."

"Go away Kelley," Alyssa mumbled before going back to her breakfast. I ignored her again, getting up for Alyssa's coffee instead. When I returned, Kelley and Emily were still there, giving Alyssa a suspicious look. I handed Alyssa the cup before sitting down again.

"Thank you love."

Emily narrowed her eyes at us, "Suspicious."

Alyssa rolled her eyes while I flipped Emily off. This whole thing was starting to get old. "Go eat your breakfast."

Later that day, we were back in our room, enjoying the time we had before practice. Alyssa was reading, while I lay in the sun on the balcony. I started to want cuddles. I wouldn't say I was clingy because it was true. We could spend hours doing completely different things. Sometimes though, I just craved touching or being held by her. I gave her a few minutes before calling out to her, knowing she would come to me without hesitation.

Alyssa groaned, but got up, slipped off her shirt and sat down behind me with my head in her lap. We met in the middle, lips connecting briefly before I wiggled around to get into a better position. Alyssa eyebrows raised, amusement shining in her eyes, "Comfortable?"

I smirked, lacing my fingers with hers that rest on my stomach, "Very. Do you like me Lyssa? Is someone forcing you to date me?"

"Not even a little bit. Don't you know I'm only with you for your body?" 

"That's what I thought. Maybe I should confess that I'm only with you for your abs."

She smirked at my response, "I had my suspicions. You're obsessed."

"Not my fault they're great abs."

Fingers ran through my hair as Alyssa leant down to kiss my forehead, "You know I love you right Y/n/n? I don't want you to ever doubt that because I don't show you affection in public."

"You know how I feel about PDA, I don't like it, I never have. I have never once doubted your love for me Alyssa and I hope you haven't doubted mine. I love you."

"Good. I have never doubted your love either."

---

Anger and worry coursed through me when I saw Alyssa go down. It was always my worst fear during games, but it didn't really happen during practice. I know we got competitive, there was no reason for it to happen during practice though. I ran up, kneeling beside her, hand grabbing hers, "Are you okay Lys?"

"This ones going to hurt," Alyssa winced, but quickly grabbed my arm when I turned to Rose who had taken her out. "Hey, it's not her fault, it was an accident. Go see if she's okay and be nice."

I took a breath to calm myself down before walking up to Rose. Rose started fidgeting nervously as I walked up to her, "Hey, are you okay Rose?"

"Y-yeah. S-sorry"

I hugged her, feeling her relax against me. Hugs weren't necessarily my favourite thing except when it was with Alyssa, but I knew Rose liked them and I didn't want her to feel bad. It wasn't actually her fault. "Rosie, it was an accident. Don't beat yourself up because of it, but maybe don't make a habit of taking out out keeper during practice, we kinda need her."

---

"You guys coming to dinner?"

"Uh yeah, just going to drop our stuff off."

Once we were in our room, Alyssa sat on the edge of the bed as I knelt behind her, arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely. She lent back against me with a sigh, kissing my hand. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Think my shoulder might bruise, but I'm okay hun. Don't worry so much."

I lift her shirt over her head, lips meeting the spot that was already starting to bruise then moving around to her neck, cheek and lips, "You know I can't help worrying about you, even if it's a bit ridiculous."

Alyssa turned around, pushing me back and hovering over me, "Well, I'm the same so I can't really say anything. I love you Y/n/n."

I looped my arm around the back of her neck, pulling her down so I could peck her lips, "I love you Lys, but you need to get off cause we need to go down for dinner."

She rolled off me with one final kiss before standing up, "Fine."

"Shirt."

---

My eyes fluttered open to the feeling of lips being pressed to every part of my face and neck. I giggled, arms wrapping around her neck to bring her lips to mine. You wouldn't guess it, but Alyssa always kissed me softly, as if I was something precious. It honestly drove me crazy. 

Alyssa pulled away slowly, grin plastered across her face, "Happy anniversary love."

My grin matched her, as I pecked her lips, "Happy anniversary Lys. I love you."

We spent a little longer in bed than usual, lazy kisses and cuddles shared before reluctantly dragging our selves out of bed and into the shower. Unfortunately, we had training today so we couldn't give in to the clear desires we both had, instead rushing through the shower and downstairs before there was anymore temptation and we ended up late. 

Alyssa and I were discussing dinner plans when we walked into the meal room. We never went out on our anniversary, always staying in and just being with each other in the comfort of our own home. This year was different because we were in a hotel, but we would make do. Just as we sat down, Kelley sat across from us, our conversation ending as we waited for her to say something. "Do you guys even like each other? I mean you guys just seem so indifferent around each other, sure you talk and even joke around sometimes, but it's no different then if you were talking to team mates, we've never heard you talk about anything remotely relationship like."

My arm rest on the back of Alyssa's chair, playing with the baby hairs at the base of her neck. That wasn't a usual occurrence, but it was our anniversary. I was feeling a mix of different, slightly overwhelming emotions from love to happiness, and nerves from the fact I was proposing tonight. I just wanted to be close to her right now and the usual leg against mine wasn't enough. Alyssa must have sensed it because her hand rest on my thigh under the table, squeezing gently as I spoke, "Of course we do. We were literally just talking about our plans tonight for our anniversary."

"That was talk about your anniversary? It sounded like you were talking about grocery shopping."

"We were, but in relation to our anniversary."

"So what are you going to do for your anniversary?"

"Chill out in our hotel room. We never do anything big."

"Yeah okay. That tracks with the appearance of your relationship."

Alyssa had gone back to our room after training while I had gone to the store to pick up a few snacks to sneak in and some flowers for her. She always got me flowers so I wanted to return the favour for once. We were planning on ordering in and watching movies before likely ending the night doing inappropriate cuddling.  It was our favourite way to spend our anniversaries. Thankfully, we had an off day tomorrow so we could get away with it. 

After placing the bag down on the table, I called out for Alyssa, getting a response from the bathroom almost instantly. My arms wrapped around Alyssa when she emerged from the bathroom, leaving a lingering kiss against her lips. Her eyes dropped down to the bouquet in my hand, a small smile appearing. "This isn't your actual gift, but you always get me flowers so I thought it was my turn. Your gift is running late."

"They're beautiful, thank you Y/n/n. You know you didn't have to get me anything."

"I know, but you also always get me something despite me saying the same thing, therefore shut up."

Alyssa laughed, pushing me away gently and taking the flowers, "You speak to me so romantically my love."

I pulled her back into me, peppering her face with kisses, "I love you."

"I love you. I ordered dinner already, it should be here soon. Also here," Alyssa handed out a small wrapped box. Inside was a gold chain with a small keepers glove attached. It was something I had mentioned wanting, a way to have her close when she wasn't there physically. 

"You remembered. I love it Lys."

"Of course I did."

After a short make out session and dinner, we cuddled up in bed to watch a movie. Maybe 15 minutes had passed before I started getting restless. My focus dropped from the movie, instead playing with Alyssa's fingers. I never was the best at staying still. My mind soon drifted to the pool downstairs, it had been a while since I got to go and the urge was suddenly there.  

When I shifted position once again, Alyssa chuckled and paused the movie, "I've lost you haven't I?"

I grinned up at her, kissing her softly. Alyssa always knew me so well. "Do you want to go swimming? It's late so no one will be around."

Alyssa knew I loved swimming so she agreed pretty easily, after some teasing of course. We made our way down to the pool, both wearing tank tops and shorts. No one was around so it didn't matter what we wore. I jumped straight in, swimming around a bit while Alyssa sat on the edge of the pool. After a few minutes, I swam up between Alyssa's legs resting my arms on them as I lent up connecting our lips in a lingering kiss. 

"Come in."

"It's cold."

"Love, it's a heated pool."

"Okay fine, I just enjoy watching you swim around."

"But, if you come in then we can cuddle, kiss," My hand ran up the inside of her thigh, "Touch."

Alyssa instantly slid into the pool, arm wrapping around me and pulling me against her. "You're a tease."

My hands slipped under her tank top, nails scratching down her back and over her stomach, "It's only teasing if I leave it at that. Just wait until we get ba-"

A loud voice interrupted the moment, annoyance crossing Alyssa's face as she stepped back slightly, but didn't let me go. "Oh my god! They really are together."

I groaned, turning to glare at Emily and Kelley, "Fuck off and stop ruining our anniversary."

Once they were out of sight again, I pulled myself out of the pool, Alyssa rest on my legs as I had done earlier. "What are you doing?" 

I pulled the towel that I had hidden the little black box in closer. Inside was a a plain gold band with a round cut diamond. Alyssa didn't often wear jewelry and she liked simple things so I knew she would love it. "I have something for you."

"You waited until we were at the pool to give it to me?"

"Well it wasn't the original plan, but I got nervous." My fingers laced with hers, Alyssa looking up at me curiously. "Never in my life did I think I would fall for someone as hard or fast as I did with you. From the boring, quiet days at home spent doing housework or errands to the movie nights and dinner dates, I love living life with you. I love the adventures we've had, I love working with you, fuck, I just love being with you Alyssa. I look forward to every new day because I get to do it with you. With you by my side, anything is possible. This is a shit speech, but I'm nervous and you love me anyway."

Alyssa chuckled, tears already forming in her eyes before I revealed the little box. "I love you Alyssa, I love you so much more than I thought possible. I want to live life with you forever. With that being said, Alyssa Naeher will you marry me?"

Arms wrapped around my waist tightly, lips connecting with mine, in a soft, emotional kiss, "Yes, yes I will marry you Y/n."

I slipped the ring on her finger, connecting our lips again. Alyssa pulled away too soon for my liking, reaching for her own towel, pulling out a black box similar to the one I had moments before. Alyssa opened it, revealing a plain rose gold band with three small gems set into it. I soon realised it was both our birth stones and one I wasn't quite sure of. "You beat me to it, but will you marry me Y/n?"

"I suppose I can't say no seeing as I just gave you a ring."

Alyssa laughed, sliding the ring onto my finger before kissing me again. "These are our birthstones, what's this one?"

"When we first started dating."

"I love it, I love you."

A crash from behind us instantly caught our attention. About half the team stood there, sheepish smiles in place and a phone pointed in our direction. Seeing as they were caught, everyone started talking over each other, congratulations being thrown our way. I rolled my eyes, turning back to Alyssa. "Let's get out of here before they surround us. We have celebrating to do."

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #alyssa naeher x reader #alyssa naeher imagine

[moralesmilesanhour]

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2

summary: miles is not exactly a productive work partner

wc: ~800

A/N: not much plot movement here, but a tiny bit of exposition sort of. Miles will calm down in the following chapters...maybe 🥴

prev. next

"Oh Miles? He's in some of my AP classes. Honor student," Your friend's voice filtered through your phone speakers while on the FaceTime call. She popped a potato chip in her mouth as she sat in bed and sniffled, at home with a nasty cold.

"I've heard his name before. I think his dad died, that true?"

"Yeah, a couple years ago. Say he used to be really sweet, and now he don't talk no more."

"That's sad," you remark. "Maybe that's why I'm only seeing him now."

"You actually saw him in class?!?"

Your friend's face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide as saucers as if this was a rare event.

"Yeah, he's my partner for the week cuz you decided to go and get yo ass sick!" you explained, dramatically jabbing a finger at your phone screen.

"It's not my fault that kid from AP Chem sneezed on me, damn!"

"He's really smart, but his attitude fucking sucks. He draws good, though," you think out loud.

“It’s just a week, sis, give it four more days, you’ll be fine.”

“You’d better hope so, for your sake.”

-

The following afternoon saw you asking around, trying to piece together a picture of this kid that everyone simultaneously knew and didn’t know. By the time lunchtime ended and Ms. Jones’ calculus class rolled around, you had heard the following:

‘Almost flunked out of school…on purpose’.

‘Did graffiti on the school walls once.’

‘Freakishly quiet’.

‘Secretly joined a gang’.

That last bit made your stomach turn a little as you approached your new temporary seat. Sure enough, Miles was already slouched at his desk, twirling that same pen between his fingers like a drumstick. You didn’t bother to say ‘hi’ this time. He didn’t bother to look up, either.

Miles didn’t say a word during the lecture portion of class, not even to answer questions. Would explain why you’d hardly noticed him until this week.

As the heavy-set math teacher scanned the classroom, she frequently craned her neck and made brief eye contact with Miles, but never cold-called him.

Her skin was a chestnut shade, and she kept her dark hair pinned back in a tight, slick bun. The way she pressed her lips together as she moved on suggested that they’d been through this before, and she'd be sorely disappointed.

When her lecture ended, Miles suddenly stood to his full height.

You weren’t able to tell by the way he sat, but the boy was quite lanky. Even with his awkwardly-broad shoulders slumped, he likely was a half a head taller than you. Ms. Jones stopped her slow pacing around the classroom and sighed.

“Miles, sweetie, what did I say yesterday?”

Miles looked up at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation before plopping back down into his chair. He raised his hand as if it pained him to do so.

“Yes, Mr. Morales?”

“May I please use the restroom?”

A few snickers could be heard erupting around the classroom, and the woman rolled her eyes. An innocent smile was plastered over Miles’ face, revealing two deep dimples in his cheeks. If the smile had actually reached his eyes, you would’ve thought he was cute.

“Go ahead,” Jones relented.

The boy dropped the smile and noisily pushed his chair aside; As he shot back up from his seat and strolled past your desk towards the door, Jones narrowed her eyes at him.

“Hold it. Sir, where are your glasses?”

Miles stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly.

“Oh my god, I don’t need glasses to go potty, Ms. Jones. I can aim, I promise.”

“Make sure you put them on as soon as you get back, your mother told me to remind you. Go,” Jones said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Uh-huh, thank you, ma’am!” The boy was already in the hallway, letting the door slam behind him.

Today's partner work was just a packet of long equations to simplify, so you were only mildly irritated that Miles never seemed to return from his impromptu bathroom trip until the last fifteen minutes of class.

You looked up as he sauntered over to his desk, hands in his pockets.

“Where were you? Class is almost over,” you demanded.

Miles ignored you and sat down, picking up his pen to work at a long string of equations at lightning speed.

Suddenly, you reached over and snapped your fingers in front of him. The boy looked up with his lips curled into a grimace.

"What's good witchu? You got through the work, didn't you?" Miles hissed in a low whisper to avoid catching Ms. Jones' attention.

You frowned deeply. "And what if I didn't? I'd be struggling while you were off running around the damn school-"

"I needed time to myself," he interrupted. "To think."

" 'Think' about what?"

"Personal shit," Miles resumed his problem-solving. "Any more questions, officer?"

The school bell rang, pulling from you a sigh of relief that you wouldn't have to see him again for another 24 hours.

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #moralesanhour

[itsbeeble]

I saw your post about having Bang Chan brain rot and honestly, same. He has filled every waking thought I've had for the last year and I'm big mad over it.

So my fic rec is a little angsty/suggestive with him being as obsessed with y/n as we all are with him. Like, he's angry that he can't focus on work because he's too busy thinking about them but can't have them for whatever reason. All the features he possesses that we love that he can't see in himself are exactly what draws him to y/n. (I feel like crushing on Chan is an exercise in learning to love yourself, and that's a lesson he needs to learn as well).

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME I LITERALLY FELL TO THE FLOOR WHEN I FIRST SAW IT (that first statement is so real actually)

OBSESSIVE

Summary: Chan has always been obsessed with you, but he's been too afraid to act on it until now.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x (implied)fem!reader

Warnings: a little angsty but mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive, some uhhh sexual themes but there's no actual smut or anything, small make out scene teehee, swearing, insecurities briefly mentioned, I think that's it

WC: 2462

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

A/N: guys look it didn't take me 10 years to post! Also i'm gonna add to my masterlist a "Brainrot" section bc i'm not officially gonna write for certain groups but fuck do i get brainrot

~

Chan is restless in his studio, staring at the walls in front of him unable to focus. He can’t get his brain to work, to think, to do something. 

It’s your fault. He knows it’s your fault, but he can’t figure out why. Had you said something to him? Had you done something? 

No. The answer is no, you hadn’t done anything to him. At least not technically. 

In fact, it’s more him that's the problem.

It’s almost unhealthy the way he’s obsessed with you. Unhealthy and almost annoying considering that you hardly ever give him the light of day. 

Chan adores you. Adores the way you don’t care about what anyone else thinks of you, the way you laugh too loudly, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, and the way you can hold conversations so easily. He adores the way you never seem to care about looking put together, dressing in whatever you find comfortable that day, and somehow still looking beautiful. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about anyone before. He hates the swirling in his stomach, the way his heart beats faster, and the way he can always tell when you’re close to him whether you want him to know or not. Chan can always tell from the smell of your perfume, that sweet, subtle scent you’ve worn since the day you met him in your days as trainees. 

These emotions…he shouldn’t be feeling them. Not about you, his best friend. His confidant. The one person he can trust to always be there for him, for everything. He’s tried so hard to will these emotions away, to force himself to like other people. He’s tried hookups, blind dates, dating apps. He’s tried imagining it was his grandmother instead of you whenever his thoughts dive into dangerous territory. 

And no, the grandmother thoughts didn’t work. His thoughts kept returning to you, how you would look under him. How you would look with your hair splayed out, your hand cupping his cheeks, and your lips sending him the sweet smile that you seem to reserve for him.

Fuck, he’s doing it again.

Chan takes a deep breath, sipping at the day-old water and grimacing at the stale taste in his mouth. His computer screen is still blank, the screen off from the time he’s spent staring into space and thinking of you. 

A knock on the door and then you’re slipping in quietly with a plastic go-cup filled with iced coffee. 

“Hey.”

Your greeting is simple, but you flash that smile and Chan’s heart starts doing flips. He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way, hates that he gets nervous whenever you’re around. 

He feels you at his side, your arm on the back of his chair, fingertips brushing against his shoulder and sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He turns his head, angling his neck to look up at you. 

You with your calm eyes, with your gentle brushes against his skin, and the way you somehow soothe the storm that you caused inside of him. 

The cup in your hand is angled toward him, and he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t be drinking that, you know,” it’s almost instinctive how he scolds you, a frown on his face when you just roll your eyes and pull the cup away from him. “Especially right now. You should be asleep, Y/N.” 

“So should you,” you hum, rolling your shoulders back and wincing when something cracks. 

“I’m working.” He nods his head at the computer, and you raise an eyebrow at the black screen.

“I can see that. Working very hard, just like you always are.”

Your hand raises to his head, ruffling the soft strands of hair. Chan clicks his tongue and pulls away from you. Your hand drops down to your side, and your small drops slightly. Barely noticeable, but enough for Chan to feel a pang in his chest. He rolls his chair back slightly, spinning it to face you. You pull a chair up, sitting directly across from him, and delicately place your coffee in an empty space on his crowded desk. 

Chan feels your knees brush against his, and heat scorches his body again. Why do you do this to him? Is it on purpose? Do you know he loves you more than a best friend should?

“Are you okay, Channie?” You lean toward him, the open part of your button-down shirt dipping to expose more skin. You would think he’s never been around a woman before.

He clears his throat, tries to look at you, and then clears his throat again. You’re biting at your lip now your eyebrows furrowed together in thought. 

He leans away from you when you lean toward him. Your knees are between his thighs now, unbeknownst to you but he is all too aware of it. You rise from your chair, coming closer to him and standing between his legs. One of his hands twitches, fighting to raise just a little bit to touch the side of your leg. 

“You seem a little feverish,” your hand is cold against his skin, and he almost chokes on the air he’d been struggling to inhale without the sweet scent of you overpowering his lungs and making him do unthinkable things. Your lips are twisted into a pout, your hand moving to his forehead and then his cheek. 

It takes Chan a moment to realize that he’s grabbed your wrist. 

It takes another moment for him to realize that his lips are against the back of your hand. 

Another moment and you haven’t pushed him away. Is it shock? Are you too disgusted to do anything? Fuck, why did he have to do that?

“Y/N—” he’s stumbling over his words, trying to grasp any thought that runs through his brain. An apology, hopefully. “I’m so— I didn’t mean—” 

Your lips are on his before he can say another word. It was a quick, fleeting kiss. Heat of the moment, maybe. 

You pull back, just far enough to look him in the eyes. 

Chan opens his mouth, ready to speak again.

The door slams shut. The space you stood in is empty. Chan’s heart sinks to his stomach, his skin still warm where you touched him.

“Fuck”

~

It’s three days before Chan hears from or sees you. Three days of absolute radio silence. No one forcing him to stop working, to look away from the screen and lay on the couch for a while. No wild laughter, random coffee dates. Nothing, and he knows why.

He knows you’ve been avoiding him. It’s not that difficult to figure it out. Whatever happened that night…it scared both of you. What frustrates him isn’t the subtle rejection. No, he could never be mad at you for that. He loves you too much to be angry about that. 

No, he’s mad about the fact that you’re running from this. You who regularly gets into heated arguments with the staff when they’re working him and the other members too hard. You who always accepts when you’re in the wrong, actively seeking a solution. You who has never had problems with communicating your emotions. He’s angry that the one time he needs you to communicate with him, you disappear. Now, after three days of you avoiding him, he isn’t quite sure he wants to see you anymore. He wouldn’t have minded if you told him you hated him for what happened.

Radio silence is…quite possibly the last thing he expected.

A knock on his door jolts him out of his thoughts. Three raps, then two, and the door opens. He knows it’s you by the shuffling of your feet against the ground and the sound of ice against plastic. You come to stand near him. Not next to him, no, it’s like you can sense the anger in him.

Or you can hear the angry typing. 

“What are you working on?” Your voice is quiet, so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it. 

He doesn’t respond, at least not at first. The typing doesn’t slow, and he hears a small exhale from you. 

“Chan?” Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and the typing stops. You drop your hand to your side, biting your tongue and forcing the tears back. “Channie, can you please talk to me?” He turns to look at you, trying to hold back all of the emotions he’s been feeling these past three days. 

“About what?” He plays dumb. Maybe if he acts like nothing happened, you’ll just drop it and you can start avoiding each other and he can move on from you. 

“About…about what happened.” Your voice shakes, and he almost feels bad. 

Scratch that, he does feel bad. 

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Chan dismisses, “You made it clear how you feel and that’s fine. We can forget about it.” He avoids your gaze now, but he hears a sniffle coming from you. Hears a sob that you made a poor attempt at concealing. He looks at you again, and your hand is over your mouth while you try to calm yourself. He bites the side of his tongue, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily. 

“Come here,” he raises his hand and lazily beckons you over to him. You don’t move at first, still focused on calming yourself. “Y/N, come here.” 

Your steps are slow, almost nervous about approaching him, and suddenly all the anger is washed away from Chan’s body. All he can think about is the fact that he’s made you cry, made you upset, and he wants to fix it. 

“Why are you crying, pretty?” You’re standing in front of him, all too similarly to three days ago. Your cup has been placed to the side again, next to his keyboard, and your hands are in his. 

“I feel like…” your voice is thick with emotion, tears rolling down your cheeks that Chan wants nothing more than to kiss away. “I feel like I messed everything up.”

“How could you possibly think that?” Your best friend frowns. 

“I— I kissed you.” Your sentences are stuttered. “I fe—feel like I me—messed everyth—everything up. You— You’re my bes—best friend, Channie.” 

“Look at me,” he holds his hand to your chin, tilting your head to look down at him. “You did nothing wrong. In case you forgot, I kissed you first.”

“But that was diffe—different!” You cry, yanking your hands out of his grip and turning your back on him. Chan rises from his chair, carefully watching your movements. “I kissed you!” 

He’s curious now. “Do you think I hate you because of that?” 

You turn around, and a gasp escapes you. He’s only a few inches from you, his breath kissing your cheeks. You can see a dark tinge on his tanned skin. Was he blushing? Was he mad? 

“I— I mean—” Chan steps toward you again, practically backing you into the wall.

“Because you’d be wrong,” he continues. “In fact, it’s probably made me even worse.” 

What? “Chan— what does that—”

“I’ve been obsessed with you from the day that I met you, Y/N.” Here goes nothing. Chan takes a deep breath before continuing. “Everything you do, everything you say. I’m addicted to you. You know, I couldn’t tell at first if I envied you. It was the way you carried yourself, the confidence you had in every little thing. The way you fought so hard for the things that you loved and the people you cared about. I thought I envied the way you could laugh as loud as you wanted without fearing what other people thought of you.” 

You’re against the wall now, but he hasn’t caged you in. No, he leaves you room to escape should you so choose. Your tears have stopped and Chan reaches up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the streaks that were left. 

“I was wrong.” His voice is so quiet, so much quieter than he probably intended it to be, but it has a zoo erupting in your stomach. “It wasn’t envy.”

“Then what was it?” Your voice matches his in volume, your eyes flicking from his lips and back up to meet his gaze. He takes a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of your cold hands twisting into the fabric of his shirt, your knuckles brushing against the skin of his stomach. “Channie?” 

The way you said his name should’ve been innocent. It should have just grabbed his attention, snapped him out of the spell you’ve cast on him. 

The air is knocked out of your chest at the first touch of his lips on yours. It isn’t rough, not by any means. 

His lips move smoothly against yours, slow and sure of every move he wants to make as if he’s always going to be two steps ahead of you. One of his hands slides down to cup the back of your head, right at the base to allow him to angle your head and pull your body closer to his. Your hands have tightened into his cotton t-shirt, holding so tightly you’re positive the fabric has stretched. 

Your chest is on fire, whether from lack of breath or the emotions running through you like wildfire, you aren’t sure, but you don’t want to stop. You can’t stop. Not when he tastes so good, not when he’s kissing you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing. 

A whine escapes you, and you feel his body go rigid. His lips stop moving, and he pulls back from you. You see his chest stuttering as he tries to stop himself from taking deep breaths. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you for a long time. 

You don’t have to, though. The drawings he traces into your hip with his finger and the hazy, starstruck look in his eye says enough.

His eyes meet yours when you clear your throat to get his attention. 

“So,” your voice is slightly hoarse but you can’t find yourself caring. Not in front of Chan. “You never answered my question.” He bends down, his lips lightly pressing into the skin of your neck. Your breathing hitches, and you feel him smile against you. 

“What question was that?” He asks, and his voice is right in your ear, and you can’t help but pull him closer to you.

“What was it that you felt?” 

He just laughs against you, finally taking his hand out of your hair. 

“You know what it was, pretty. Don’t pretend.”

You smile, your arm coming to wrap around the back of his neck. 

Love. It was love, and you knew it the whole time.

#itsbeeble #kpop #kpop imagines #reese's works 📩 #reese's chats ✏️ #reese's pieces 🗞️ #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan smut #bang chan angst #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop fluff #stray kids x reader

[theehoneeybee]

i’ve never made a fic request before but here goes! could i get a mike schmidt x reader request that’s something like….

reader is an old friend who fell out of touch with mike but they stumble into each other. one thing leads to another and they besties again <3 but both of them are like ‘wait oh NO they’re HOT’ but both are also too emotionally dense to realize each others feelings. fluff + some angst where one or the other or both think they don’t like each other but they work it out in the end??

+ bonus: abby loves reader and reader is just so good with her (maybe they draw together and reader just older sister’s abby or maybe reader emergency babysits abby and they get along perfectly or smth?) and mike is just *heart eyes*

(sorry if it’s too much… i just love this man oml… the movie was so good ;w;)

thanks~ 🧡

You really slayed with this idea. I'm obsessed. This ended up being longer than I anticipated but I'm not mad. I'm gonna write the bonus one as well in a separate post so keep a look out :) lmk if you liked it!

Word count: 1.9k

.・。.・゜✭・.

"Mike?"

It was unmistakably him. The last person you expected to run in while grocery shopping was Mike Schmidt. The grocery store was always quiet this early in the morning, most people were still asleep. Your hands gripped the handles of the cart tighter as you stared at the familiar stranger.

The last time you saw Mike was not long after his brother Garrett was taken. He wasn't the same after that. The outgoing boy you once called your best friend had disappeared. The loss of Garrett tore his family apart. You tried your best to be there for him but he shut you out, shut the world out. You kept calling him to check in but after months of silence, your calls slowly came to an end.

Even a decade later, Mike looked the same. He had the same curly brown locks and beautiful hazelnut eyes, but now they were accompanied by heavy bags. He slowly turned around, clearly not expecting any recognition today. You watched as his eyes narrowed for a moment, examining you before widening in shock.

"[Name]?"

Mike couldn't believe his eyes. His childhood best friend was standing in front of him, in a random grocery store at 6:30 in the morning. He clumsily shoved the box of cereal back on the shelf as he turned to fully face you.

"It's been a while," Mike says awkwardly. "How have you been?"

"Quite a while." A decade to be exact. "I've been doing alright, nothing special. How've you been, Mike?"

Hearing you say his name again after so many years was surreal. "I'm fine, y'know, same as always."

The two of you stood in awkward silence for a moment. "I have to keep shopping, but," you grabbed a notepad, scribbling down your number and handing him the page. "I'd like to catch up sometime. See you around, Mike."

You strolled down the isle, leaving Mike standing in silent shock. He stared down at the numbers of the page, years of childhood memories flooding his mind. He pocketed the page and promised himself he would call you.

-

Mike stared at the phone, the numbers staring back at him in anticipation. He was more nervous than he'd care to admit. Mike was going to call you but he kept putting it off. One day led to two, then almost a week later he finally decided to man up. He took one last look at the handwritten number before dialling it in. Mike held his breath as the phone rung.

Ring... Ring... Ring...

He blew it. He'd left it too late and now you're weren't going to pick up-

"Hello?" Mike couldn't speak. The words wouldn't make their way out of his mouth. "Hello?" you repeated again.

"Hi, it's uh, it's Mike."

"I thought you were never going to call."

"I'm sorry," Mike apologies. "I was going to but, I-... I'm sorry," he said with a guilty chuckle.

"I forgive you."

Mike cleared his throat. "I was thinking we should catch up." He twirled the cord of the phone between his fingers like a love-struck teenager. "We could meet at Sparky's tomorrow?"

"Does 11 suit you?"

He nodded before realising you couldn't see him through the phone. "Yeah, 11 is fine." His attempt at being nonchalant was embarrassing.

"Great, I'll see you then Mike." He could hear your smile through your voice. Mike hung up the phone and let out a breath of relief, slouching back into the uncomfortable kitchen chair.

"Someone's got a daaaaate," Abby sung in a sing-song voice from the living room.

"It's not a date!" Mike yelled back defensively. Of course it wasn't a date. Just two childhood best friends meeting up after a decade apart. Completely normal.

-

Mike stood at the doors of the diner, nervously fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, he changed his outfit three times in anticipation. Of course he landed on his usual hoodie and jeans combo, but he couldn't understand why he was so nervous.

"Fuck it," he whispered to himself and pushed open the diner doors, the bell chiming invitingly as they swung open.

He nervously walked through the diner before he spotted you. You were sat at one of the leather booths, head resting on your chin as yo gazed out the window. The bright winter sun shone through the window, gently illuminating your face. You brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face. You looked so beautiful. He hadn't mentally prepared himself for that. In his mind, you were still the thirteen year old with braces that he remembered. You looked so different now, but you were still so remarkably yourself. He almost spun around and ran out the diner back to the safety of his car, but he didn't.

"Hey," Mike said quietly as he took a seat in the old leather booth.

You turned to face him and a sweet smile formed on your lips, sitting up straight. "Hey yourself. Here I was thinking you had forgotten about me again," you were serious but you looked at him with a sly smile. Your eyes darted over Mike's face, taking in his features. His curly brown hair shone in the sun. You may have had a little, well, rather big, crush on him when you were younger, and felt similar butterflies in your stomach.

Mike looked down sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I never meant to cut you off like that. It's just after Garrett was taken, I- I couldn't handle it. I shut down."

You held your smile, but your eyes shone with sadness. "I know. I forgive you Mike." He couldn't help the feeling of guilt rising in his stomach. "Now," you said, grabbing your menu. "What are we eating?"

The server who took your order was lovely. While he commented about how great the breakfast menu was, he insisted that the lunch one was nicer. It was the most important meal of the day after all. You ordered a simple meal of bacon and eggs on toast. Mike chose something a little different. Pancakes with ice cream. He always had a sweet tooth. You remembered back to when you would make cupcakes together as kids. Of course, it always ended with one of you smooshing frosting in the others faces.

You dug into your food and the awkward small talk slowly evolved into a conversation between friends. Mike's tired and closed-off demeanour melting away to reveal the talkative, happy kid he once was. The hours passed by in what felt like minutes as you caught up on years of life. Years you had missed out on spending together. He told you about his sister Abby. You never got to meet her since you fell out of contact before she was born. But from what Mike described, she sounded like a lovely girl. The way he talked about her with such compassion warmed your heart. He always was the best big brother.

"Did they every find out what happened to Garrett?" you quietly asked, scared you were pushing a boundary.

Mike solemnly shook his head. "No. They never found him or the guy that took him."

Your expression fell. Some part of you was holding onto the hope that they would have gotten some closure. For Mike's sake. You knew he blamed himself for Garrett's kidnapping. You gently placed your hand on top of his. It was comforting and familiar. "I'm so sorry, Mike."

"Thanks. I've accepted that they're not going to find him." The two of you sat in silence for a moment. "I never stopped thinking about you, y'know?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt your cheeks burn. You were certain that after all these years you had faded from Mike's memory. Hearing those words made your heart soar.

"I know you think I forgot you," Mike continued. "But I could never."

The two of you smiled, staring into each others eyes as your friendship rekindled.

-

"Gosh! They like you Mike. You're so stupid sometimes," Abby insulted, barely taking her eyes off her drawing.

You and Mike had been seeing each other non-stop for the past week. He felt himself longing for your company, wanting you to be by his side. The feeling scared him. He wasn't used to that kind of intimacy. Mike had convinced himself that there was no way you were interested in him. Slowly, he began to distance himself from you. The occasional missed called turned into cancelled plans. He felt guilty about it, just as suddenly as you shit back into your life, he was pushing you out. It was for the best.

Mike groaned and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. "I don't need dating advice from a ten year old."

The knocking of the door drew Mike out of his misery. Sluggishly, he got up and answered it, immediately standing up straight when he saw you waiting outside for him.

"Hey, um, what are you doing here?" Mike asked with a nervous smile.

"Just stopping by," you said calmly. "Can I come in?"

Mike slowly nodded and let you inside. His house was modest, in need of a few repairs, but it was loved. Abby's drawings were strewn around the place, with even the occasional crayon mark on the wall.

"Don't you have homework to do, Abby?" Mike turned to look at her, shooting her a knowing look.

She smiled. "Nope," but skipped off to her room regardless.

"She looks just like you," you said with a small smile as you watched the girl go.

Mike stared at you anxiously, waiting for you to yell at him, to tell him how terrible he was, but nothing came. You wandered into the living room, kneeling down to look at Abby's drawings. Mike was in almost all of them.

"Did I do something wrong?" you couldn't hide the crack in your voice, not looking at Mike as you spoke. He felt a pang in his chest.

You thought the two of you had something special. You wanted him back in your life for so many years and when you finally had that opportunity, he pushed you away yet again. You wanted Mike back, not just as your best friend, but more this time around.

Mike sighed and stared at you guiltily. "No, of course not."

"Then why are you pushing me away again?" You turned to face him, eyes glossy with tears. Mike frowned and walked over to you.

He brushed a fallen tear off your cheek and you leant into his palm. "I'm just an idiot." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I like you and I don't want to lose you, but that thought scared me. I didn't know if you felt the same so I did what I knew best. I'm sorry."

You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears. "God, I thought you didn't like me! Every time I tried to make a move you completely ignore it."

The fact you had been flirting with Mike this whole time went straight over his head. He thought you were just being nice.

Mike let out an embarrassed chuckle. "I'm just dense I guess. But I do like you, [Name]. I really like you."

"I like you too," you whispered. Mike hand drifted from your cheek, gently tilting up your chin so you met his gaze. In a moment of confidence, he lent in, his lips softly meeting yours. You lost yourself in the kiss, your hand resting on his shoulder as you melted into him.

After a moment, you slowly pulled away. "Promise not to leave me again?" your lips brushed against his as you spoke.

"I promise."

#🧡 #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #william afton #abby schmidt

[softpine]

shows up extremely late to the @tricoufamily cas challenge with a half baked mafia concept like just hear me out guys hear me out....

dynamic: mentor/mentee genre: crime

sim 1: DONNA trait: boisterous hair color: platinum blonde hair length: medium extra: glasses

sim 2: CHIARRA trait: jealous hair color: dark brown hair length: extra long extra: freckles

i don't know a single goddamn thing about the mob, i've never even watched the sopranos ❗❗ now that we've gotten that out of the way

it's the late 80s, and chiarra (brunette) is fresh out of cosmetology school and looking for a job as a hair stylist. she ends up renting a booth at a salon on one condition: the property owner, a man with major ties to the mob, wants to take her on a date first. she's charmed by his charisma and loves how close he is with his family, something chiarra never had much of. within a year, the two are married and chiarra has ingratiated herself in the community, however she's quite unpopular with the other ladies. she's seen as a gold digger and an outsider because she didn't grow up in this life. but her job as a hair stylist is secured permanently thanks to her husband.

this is how she meets donna (blonde). donna is kind of a big fucking deal from what chiarra has heard through the grapevine, so she gets nervous and ends up badlyyy messing up her hair the first time she comes in to the salon. she's surprised to find that donna thinks it's hilarious – but she warns her that not everyone would've taken it so lightly, especially because chiarra's husband is not an incredibly influential person to begin with, unlike donna's husband who's like. the boss. but donna takes a liking to her, something the other wives find equal parts annoying and frightening.

through the early years of chiarra's marriage, donna acts as a mentor figure and a listening ear because she's been through it many years ago. but there comes a point where chiarra discovers her husband has been cheating on her, and she's shocked when donna waves it off as something that just sort of happens to all of them. chiarra becomes furious and refuses to accept this when she's been nothing but loyal to him. but instead of confronting her husband, possibly losing her marriage and the new family she's gained, she makes the decision to follow in his footsteps. she carries out secret affairs for a while; just one night stands and brief flings, so her husband won't get suspicious. donna finds it entertaining and turns it into a game, often covering for her. she's always been a gossip, so it's easy for her to keep an ear out for what people are saying about chiarra and deflect suspicion if she needs to.

one night, while their husbands are away, the wine starts flowing and the two of them just go for it. it's quick and they don't even particularly enjoy it because the guilt creeps in almost immediately. in decades of marriage, donna has never betrayed her husband no matter how many times he's done the same. and though chiarra is no stranger to stepping out of her marriage, she hasn't had romantic feelings for anyone but him since they've been together, let alone feelings for another woman.

donna and chiarra try to put some space between themselves, but they both know it's too little too late – and considering they've been inseparable since they met, their distance draws more suspicion than their closeness ever had. without donna there to protect her, chiarra is forced to realize just how disliked she is in her community, and how much donna had been doing to bolster her image. but she doesn't just want everything to go back to normal, she wants more than that. she's determined to make sure donna knows what she's missing out on, taking every opportunity to make her jealous and push her buttons.

this push and pull between them continues until donna learns that her husband has been arrested for racketeering and other crimes -- and it seems that the charges are actually going to stick this time. worst of all, the latest gossip is that chiarra had something to do with it. but is this just chiarra's bad reputation preceding her? would she really do something so dangerous and hurtful just to get donna back? and if it's true, what is donna going to do in retaliation?

thanks for reading my wattpad story :3 r&r plz xDD

#one of my favorite dynamics is ''we had bad forgettable sex 1 time and now we can never be normal again :///'' #many such cases #ts4 #why is ts4 trending right now

[sanhatipal]

"Who killed poor Alice?"

An illustration of Alice's defiance and hatred and conviction all culminating in the event that unfurled before Jack's eyes on that fateful day, 100yrs in the past

I did this as an experimental technique,more under the cut!!

I used to do the multi layer oil pastel scraping technique a lot as a kid,but only for fun,I never considered using it for a serious illustration. But a few years ago,I saw Mochijun use it for a VnC illustration: the one with Louis surrounded by stakes. And since then, I've wanted to try it,but didn't have a subject I wanted,so I pushed it to the back of my mind. Well.... inspiration struck recently,and I wanted to draw Alice this way..the composition was suddenly clear as day in my mind. So I started,the sketch as usual,and inked and coloured Alice with watercolour,as usual. Nothing remarkable here,I almost always use a lightbox for inking, so far it's the same (ignore the extra eyes)

Then...I busted out my old oil pastels. These are 12-14yrs old, haven't been touched at least 11 yrs or more,I have no idea.

Now, instead of removing the sketch from the back,I left it,and with the help of the light box,added in colours according to the sketch

The next step may or may not be done,but I didn't want to risk getting any ink into the paper,so I used a candle to rub the shit out of the oil pastel areas,and removed the sketch

Once I was satisfied that nothing would get past the wax layer, I used ink mixed with acrylic matte medium to cover it up. The medium is important,else it won't stick to the wax at all

Once dried, I rubbed graphite to the the back of the sketch and pressed it on with a ball stylus(a ballpoint pen or back of toothpick can be used) to press on the pattern onto the background

After that, it's just a matter of scraping and scratching with a scalpel until I was satisfied

Finally I sprayed it with some varnish,to protect the ink layer from peeling off(but scanned before that, because varnish scans weird),and adding some final highlights and lines here and there.

So...am I happy? Yes! It's almost exactly as I envisioned! I do feel like I overcomplicated it,I could absolutely achieve this with just paint and ink,no scratching. But hey,I had fun,and I'm happy with how it turned out!!

#Pandora Hearts #alice baskerville #artists on tumblr #jun mochizuki #my art #traditional art #oil pastels #there's an Alyss I'm itching to draw too #I was hoping to draw it as a companion piece of this but #I don't think I will #instead that'll be an independent piece

[turbulentscrawl]

Some Body Type HCs

Hey ho!! I'm back (kinda maybe). Life has been really hectic, and frankly I just haven't had time to write much. BUT some of the friends I've made through IDV got me back to drawing, so now I have some headcanons WITH VISUALS for you. I'm putting this under the cut for partial nudity on the drawings.

(You'll have to forgive me for making it small and watermarking the hell out of it. I'm paranoid.)

Aesop

-Pale, and not a lot of body hair. Unlike some of the others, this is normal for him. He has trouble growing facial hair, which is a blessing for him because he hates having it almost as much as he hates having to shave.

-Aesop is averse to several textures, and this causes some issues for him at mealtimes. He's more of a grazer, as far as his eating habits go. He's underweight and a bit malnourished as a result of these, and so he has a slight hour-glass shape.

-He's very hyenic. He hates the feeling of lotion on his skin, but he uses good-quality soaps when he bathes, so his skin is fairly soft.

Emil

-Very hairy. (Full disclosure-this hc of mine was born partially as a spiteful counter to those in the fandom who tend to infantize him) Ada shaves his face and neck for him about once a week, but they don't bother with the rest of his body hair.

-Has quite a but of scarring under all that hair, too. His back, wrists, and legs have the worst of it, from old dog attacks and pulling against restraints.

-Not overly muscular, but he is a little stronger than average in the arms and core from his parkour-like hook maneuvering.

Luchino

-The growth of scales across his body have made his body hair sparse and inconsistent. He will still grow some on his chest and legs, but he shaves it off because he doesn't like the patchiness.

-He's health-conscious and, despite his busy schedule, still finds time to work out. He's muscular and lean due partially to this fact, as well as his ongoing mutations keeping his body fat percentages really low.

-For the same reason, aside from the areas with scale growth, Luchino's skin is well-kept. He uses many lotions and balms to ease the itching of said scales, so his entire body is well-moisturized and has a golden, dewy glow.

Norton

-The tallest survivor.

-Lean and lankey. He's strong, but still bulking up after years of near-starvation, so his muscle mass and body fat seem low.

-Has an average amount of body hair. His chest, legs, and arms all have a fair amount. (his head hair and pubes are much thicker) The burn scars left from the accident have prevented hair growth in certain areas of his body. He grows facial hair reasonably fast and has to shave at least every other week.

Andrew

-One of the tallest survivors.

-Vaguely dorito-shaped with broad shoulders. He's quite strong in general, as a result of years of hard labor like digging and throwing about coffins (and corpses). He has some body hair--but less than average--but it is thin and fine, so difficult to see without being up-close. The hair on his head is a bit thin too, he doesn't have much volume there.

-Very pale (obviously.) It's painfully obvious when he blushes--it goes all the way from his ears, down to his belly.

-He has some faint, scattered scarring just from accidents over the years. Nicking himself on sharp wooden edges, his own shovel, etc.

Luca

-Very thin. Luca hyperfocuses on work and forgets to eat a lot, and was malnourished during his time in prison. He's very physically weak.

-He grows very little body hair, and the hair on his head tends to be thin. Not many people know this, but he has a small bald patch from where he worries and pulls at his hair during moments of frustration.

-Has faint electrical scarring across his shoulders, chest, and back. Always has circles under his eyes due to his poor sleep schedule.

Naib

-Bulky and column-shaped. He's very lean and muscular from years in his various services. One of the shortest survivors (as well as one of the widest lol.)

-Covered in various scars. Life's been rough for him.

-He grows a fair amount of body hair, but he shaves it all off. This is something he does as a "leave-no-trace" sort of precaution for work, rather than as an actual preference. He's considered shaving his head, too, but he is a bit fond of his hair for personal reasons. The hair on his head is thick, but a bit dry. He doesn't always have the chance to use good products.

Victor

(My love for Victor has grown exponentially since I took my unintentional break. You heard it here, folks, I have new favorites. ask me about it lol)

-Has a fairly average, fit body type. He doesn't work out, specifically, but does a LOT of walking, running, and hiking so he's in good-standing with his cardio. He has a very slight softness around his tummy and arms, since his legs do the most of the work.

-Has a t-shirt tan from all his time outside. He's very rosey, too. Isn't that blush adorable?

-Has a very small amount of chest hair, and some on his legs. Similar to Andrew, his body hair is fine and difficult to see. He has trouble growing a beard--much to his holiday displeasure.

#turbulentscrawl #idv x reader #identity v #norton campbell #andrew kreiss #emil #aesop carl #luchino diruse #luca balsa #naib subedar #victor grantz

[anakinskywalker97]

Rise of Skywalker

Darth Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader

Reader gets captured by her former master. Things don't go as expected as they hash out old feelings.

Warnings: not gonna lie it's really dark in the beginning, Anakin redemption, hurt comfort, good after care, CNC, Rape, Dom Vader, he thinks it's her pulling him into it but it's really the force forcing them together, it's complicated and dark, but feelings confession, part of a larger series, vaginal sex, blow jobs, orgasms, I've never written anything like this before so hopefully it's alright.

Chapter One: Revenge 

It was beyond stupid to stay on the ship when they were being boarded by Imperial soldiers. You should try to escape on one of the fighters. Deep down you knew it was too late for that. If you were in your own ship it would have been possible. Your shoulders tensed as the Imperial ship came closer, you recognized a Force signature you’d certainly wanted to avoid. It wasn’t quite the same as it had been when he was a Jedi, it was twisted but still somehow him. You handed the ship over to someone else and grabbed your bag. 

You never got the chance to go up against your former master. Something that Obi-Wan had said you should feel grateful for. He knew the two of you had more going on than what was appropriate for a Master-Padawan bond. To fight against someone you love, well, Obi-Wan still wasn't the same man. He was empty, a shell of what he once was. 

You felt disgusted with yourself. You wanted to hurt him, knowing whatever damage you did would only be a fraction of the pain he had caused you. You wondered when this life would ever leave you behind. 

His presence moved through the ship and you were sure that the plans beamed to them were going to be discovered. Another failed attempt. You hadn't been aware of their plan when you had agreed to pilot the ship. It was supposed to be a diplomatic mission. 

“Just let him take me.” You had told the rebel leader. Her face pinched in annoyance. 

“You do not understand what he’s capable of -” She started but you cut her off.

“No, you don’t understand now fuck off.” You snapped at her, she felt guilty that someone innocent would be sacrificed for her plan. You moved towards the landing bay. You turned the corner in the final hallway, smoke billowing everywhere from the blasters having been fired. He stood tall at the end of the hall. His features were masked but his presence was shaken by your gaze. 

“Take her to the detention block.” When he finally spoke his voice was metallic and dark. Storm troopers flooded towards you and you went with them gracefully. You wanted to draw them off the ship and give these idiots a chance. 

They checked you over once they got you into the cell. They took your bag, lightsaber, and blaster. You were truly a prisoner. Laying down the sleeping platform you tried to rest. 

Meditation was never your favorite thing, but you knew that whatever happened next you would need your strength. Your mind went the same way it always did when trying to mediate. Memories flooded you and your heart clenched tightly, but as it had been for so many years, there was no Obi-Wan to scold you and put you on the right path. No Anakin laughing at you. Just pain and an embarrassing amount of longing. 

The Force seemed stronger around you than normal, maybe this was the path it wanted you to take. You tried to manipulate it but it wasn't interested in letting you be in control, it was pulling you and weather you liked it or not you were on this ride. 

The silence was a welcome change, your life had become very complicated recently with trade route disputes and the rebels constantly trying to recruit you. 

You thought about the last time you saw Anakin. Rage flared through you and you wondered when that wound would ever heal. It festered inside you. You could push it down, keep busy, but if he was ever brought up you would get sick almost immediately. He’d pushed you away. Sent you away from The Order and The War only to blow himself up and take the Jedi with him. You did come across the full prophecy years later while on a side quest in the Dagobah system. Anakin didn’t choose to become a Sith, at the core of his creation he was a Sith. Your stomach twisted painfully. This information had haunted you for years. Did this excuse him? Did it mean he was evil the whole time? Did he choose this life over you or did he have a choice at all?  

You felt his darkness prodding at your mind. You kept yourself shut down tight, no way you were letting him in. A com chimed and his voice echoed in your cell. 

“It seems you have something I want.” He spoke slowly. “Go to the ship's lower quarters.” The door slid open and you sighed. You moved through the seemingly empty hallways. You followed the trail he set for you in the force. Doors sprang open and eventually, you knew you were in his quarters. The air was different and the lights were dimmed. You moved into the space and decided it felt suffocating. Artifacts were displayed throughout the room and a desk near the window was covered in the contents of your bag. He had carefully laid out every single item. Even the charm he had carved you all those years ago was lying amongst medical supplies and various books. In the center of the room was a large orb, and in the center a large throne-like chair. The rest of the room went to the right and was obscured from your view. 

Once satisfied with your observation of the room you finally dragged your attention to the masked figure sitting on his throne. 

“You called?” You said calmly. His gaze was hidden in his mask but you could feel it resting heavily against your skin. 

“How have you been?” He asked in a dead voice. The sound of it was created to frighten people, it was nothing like Anakin's voice. You cocked an eyebrow at him and moved closer. “It’s not like you to be captured so easily.” 

“You’ll have to excuse me, I never finished my training.” You said hoping it bothered him. You tried not to show him any emotion knowing it would only delight him. You looked out the window.

“I thought maybe you had come to me for that reason.” He said and you snapped your head to him. 

“I’d die first.” The words were coated in venom. You wanted to fight him. He made an exasperated noise that reminded you of who he used to be. 

“Fuck me.” You knew how the words were intended but the suite spoke them as a request rather than a whisper under his breath. 

“Maybe I will.” You snapped back. It was an overused joke, said hundreds of times all those years ago. But this wasn't your Master, this monster before you was a stranger. He looked at you for a moment longer and you hated how hard your heart was hammering. You were waiting for his attack. Your mind had half a hold on your lightsaber across the room. The force was vibrating through you while also being completely resistant to your request. 

His large gloved hands moved to the sides of his sleek black helmet. The sound of air escaping sounded and he pulled the top half off. Your hand immediately reached towards him before you dropped it at your side. The state of his skin made you want to throw up. It was badly damaged, but it looked fresh. As if he had just fallen into lava yesterday. He took the bottom half of his mask off. Then he worked on unfastening his top. 

“What are you doing?” You said in a high-pitched tone. You wanted him to cover himself, you didn't want your heart to reach out to his obvious suffering. You didn't want him to have Anakin’s features.

“Can’t fuck you in all this.” There was a collar around his neck that kept his voice the same. His eyes were red and they burned into your skin. You realize then that he’s serious. Panic washes through you, but there isn't a clear escape. Your mind is still preoccupied by the sight of his damaged flesh and prosthetic arms. They were metal, just like his hand used to be. You assumed he would have had them replaced with the new kind of prosthetics. He kept his gloves on and motioned for you to come up the steps to him. 

“Don't lie to me Padawan.” He growled. “I can feel you pulling at me in the force.” His voice made you shiver but it wasn't you pulling on the force, the force was pulling you. 

You resisted then felt his force presence grip you. Your clothes started to move off of you and you tried to fight him. 

“Come to me.” He said and you resisted now almost naked. His eyes feasted on your form and you didn't know how but you were going to make him pay for this. While your mind was frozen with rage and fear your body was more than happy to fall into him. He pulled you across the room till you were in front of him. It was hardly fair to be naked and displayed  in this way. He’d stripped you down and was now enjoying the sight of you, sitting comfortably on his throne, legs spread.  No way he would actually force you into this, but then again there was a running list of things you thought he would never do. Unfortunately, when he checked an item off of it he tended to do it with as much dramatic flare as possible. 

“I won't.” You said firmly. 

“You will.” His voice was tauntingly calm. He pulled you onto his lap and you tried to break his grasp on you. He had undone his pants and you realized this was actually happening. “You have something I want.” He whispered causing your body to shudder. To your horror he gripped your hips tightly. You felt your body coming undone in his presence. The force was useless, it was pulling you to together. You could feel it now, he could bend it but he couldn't control it entirely. It pulsed around you pushing you further towards him, preparing your body. 

The head of his cock pressed against your entrance you expected it to hurt. His goal was to hurt you, to punish you, and probably get you to spill about rebel plans. This was a torture session. But as he pulled your hips down you could feel how wet you were. Your body opened to him easily. The feeling of being stretched out for the first time in years overwhelmed you. His eyes are red so deeply clouded with rage, something inside you broke as he bottomed out. You wanted to see his brown eyes. You wanted him to be Anakin. Your face flushed at this realization and he groaned. 

“Even now you still need me” The words turned your face red with embarrassment and shame. They cut you. But there was no anger in your body, only need. 

Vader settled himself in your tight cunt. 

“Move.” His deep voice commanded. It was beyond cruel to force you down on his cock only to make you fuck yourself on it. Your hips moved as if working on muscle memory. You moved slowly and every time you bottomed out on him he moaned. The sound made you pick your hips up and do it again. You would probably do it forever if it meant feeling this again. The pleasure he gave made your mind hazy. 

He did something unexpected, his hands were large enough that he could move his grip slightly and brush your clit with is thumb. Just then he used his other hand to push your hips down. His cock reached deeper inside you and you felt it swell within your tight walls. 

“Show me how bad you’ve missed me.” He commanded and your body responded to his touch. You came, walls collapsing against his cock, you felt his seed flood inside you. Your body helped him off, just like it used to. You felt your defenses fall, as your forehead pressed against his shoulder. He moved within your mind pulling from you your worst memories. He searched for something inside you and his grip on your mind hurt. Years flashed before your eyes and he gripped your hips tighter and tighter as you relieved your worst moments. He growled as every part of you was in submission to him once again. 

He picked you up and pulled you down. He was using your body now, and you hated how easy it was for him. You did nothing while he lifted you and slammed you down on his cock. The pressure started to build inside you again. 

“Cum.” He commanded and you felt your orgasm grip you tightly. Your pussy choked on his cock, and he continued to move you through it. Once again he filled you.  You were too far gone to push back into his mind but you could feel a certain ache in his chest. One that belonged to you. Tears formed in your eyes as you felt his emotions but not his thoughts. 

You felt his force presence wrap around your body. You laid back in it like it was bathwater letting it caress you. You were fully on display and watched his eyes devour where your pussy swallowed his cock. He loved how you were on display for him, he loved pleasuring you.   His feelings for you were deep and consuming. This thumb found your clit and you bucked your hips against him. He remained seated moving in and out of you slowly, eyes focused on how his cock fit inside you. 

Eventually, he stood. He set a ruthless pace, hammering into you. But in your half conscious state, you could feel that every time his emotions peaked into rage it would quickly turn to something warmer. He hated that he couldn't hate you, that he couldn't hurt you. That as badly as you needed him, he needed you even more. While his grip and pace were rough, his force presence was soft. Touching you in the ways he missed being able to touch you. He was touch starved and wild with your body. 

You felt his need for you and choked on it as if it were a hand on your throat. You felt hot tears stream down your cheeks as those deepest needs inside of you were finally held. You finally felt at home. 

“Master.” The word rolled off your lips and then you couldn't stop saying it. You said it as if his old title could somehow bring him back to you. His voice was deep and he moaned loudly at your acceptance of him. He attacked your clit and your body was pulled under fully. Your vision was gone, and your ability to breathe was gone. You felt like you were going to die, maybe that was his desired outcome. You came for what felt like an eternity as he pumped more and more of his cum inside you. Finally, it’s grip on you ended and you felt him pull your limp body to his chest. His arms wrapped around you, the cold metal reminding you of what had been lost forever. 

He held you tightly and you realized you were still crying. He tried to soothe you but the pain was inescapable. It took you a long moment to understand what it was. You weren't grieving him, you were feeling him. The pain coursing through his body at this moment. It ran the length of his spine and radiated out to what amount of limbs he had left. 

Take this off - you demanded through the newly established force bond. You felt him hesitate before he realized he was hurting you too. 

I don’t know if I can - He tried to unclasp it, only then did you feel his fear and then acceptance. It could be the only thing keeping him breathing, and yet he undid it regardless. Even if he died he had gotten his last wish. He held his breath and took the collar off. Breathing was challenging but not impossible without it. The pain diminished and you took a deep breath. 

You took the collar from him and examined it, you quickly dropped it to the floor in horror. It had been designed to attach into his spinal column, disrupting his peripheral nervous system. The radiating pain finally stopped.  Your fingers ran across the raw skin of his neck and you shuddered at his increased pain. You could also feel his pleasure, so starved for touch that he could adore your touches even if they caused him tremendous pain. 

Take it all off - you urged him knowing it was the cause of most of his pain. He reluctantly pulled out of you and placed you on the edge of his desk. He slowly removed the rest of the suit and you felt him get lighter. You took in the full extent of the damage. The suit had been designed to dig into his flesh causing it not to heal properly. Your mind was still hazy but you reached out with the force and pulled a container of healing salve. It was so easy to feel and use the force now it felt strange to you. 

No - He realized what it was the moment it landed in your hands. He picked you up quickly and carried you to the bathroom. He placed you down on the countertop and got a warm washcloth. He cleaned you carefully, then began to wash the rest of your body. His fingers run over the bruises forming on your skin. You could feel his distaste for the new scars that had been etched into your skin since the last time he saw you naked. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, his voice thick with emotion. His voice. Anakin’s voice without that stupid collar. You squeezed your eyes shut feeling it run through you. He sighed feeling your chest split open for him. 

He carried you once again through the space into a smaller room. It had a large bed covered with black silky sheets. He set you down in it carefully. He could feel your arousal at his tenderness and he planned to fully enjoy it despite having just washed you. 

You used the force to pull him down this time. You got him on his back and straddled him. You could feel his disapproval but didn’t care. You grabbed the container of salve and started with the deep gashes in his neck. He let out a sound of relief and you covered his scalp and face before moving to his torso.  

You felt him let his guard down completely, you had free run of his thoughts as you treated him. 

“Anakin.” You had never used his first name and it felt strange in your mouth. His body tensed but you continued. “I don't blame you.” 

The words may have been more for yourself than him. His hands gripped the sheets and you could feel how much pain he was in at your words. But when you could feel someone's heart it made sense. You had known of the prophecy in it’s entirety for around three years, and only now could you feel what they actually ment.The years of slavery, The Order - you felt his last interaction with you. How he had insisted you leave The Order. Leave the war. Only now did you understand what he was trying to protect you from. The loss of your companionship only made it easier for Palpatine to pull him in. All he wanted was order and control. After being in pain his whole life it made sense. Palpatine’s warning to him that you would die in battle rang through his mind and it was your turn to grip the sheets and clench your jaw. His last fight with Obi-Wan, how much he hated himself for it. Dark memories of his surgery came in bursts and it felt as if you were experiencing it with him. Every memory after that was coated in a thick syrup of pain. Palpatine's rage and manipulation are so clear to you now, the way he regularly lashed out and tortured Anakin.

 The moment Palpatine told him you were dead. The feelings he felt in that moment hit you. He had really thought you were gone all this time. 

I didn't intend to show you that - he sounded deeply uncomfortable. 

I guess you had something I wanted as well - Before he had a chance to react and ruin all the carefully placed salve, you got down between his legs. You felt his vulnerability and knew that it was likely to snap sending him back into his cave, further into the Sith. You didn't fancy having to fight him after your muscles felt like jello. You closed your mouth around him wondering how you used to do this. It was sloppy and uncoordinated as you tried to remember how to get him down your throat. 

His mind moved back to the first time you had ever done this. You re-lived your shared memory. It was late and you had been training well passed when you should have been. After years of unresolved tension, when you had him pinned on his back, you moved into the same position you were now. You’d read your first romance novel and couldn’t stop reimagining the scenes with your master. You begged him to let you do it. You wanted to please him and feel pleasure so badly it was driving you mad. He’d let you, but only for a moment before forcing you on your back and eating you out. He hated taking from you if he wasn't also giving you pleasure. 

“Tell me I was the last.” He said before groaning deeply as you moved him passed your gag reflex. 

Last, and only - You hated yourself for it, but his abandonment had twisted you up so badly you could never trust another to get that close again. You felt him slip into ecstasy at this revelation. Quickly he pulled you hair and dragged you off his cock with a pop as his head slid from your lips. He pulled you up onto the bed with the force and you landed on the soft sheets. The salve was dry and you thanked him for waiting. 

He moved inside you quickly then stopped. The feelings vibrating through the both of you were so strong. There was still the towering darkness in him that you left untouched. You had some of Anakin back, that would have to be enough for tonight. 

Search your feelings - he gasped. You did and could feel it pulse through you. The force was moving in both of you in a way you had never felt before. It was harsh and raw, it was something bigger than the living force. Something deeper. The realization of what it was choked you. 

Love - Not something Sith did. Not like this. Not pure like what was running through the both of you. He fucked you slowly, and you felt his surprise when you kissed him. He moved in and out of you with a tenderness that brought you over the edge in a different way. Something had permanently bonded between the two of you. Separating was impossible, but which side would win out. Would you be Sith? Or Jedi? Or your preferred option of nothing. 

This orgasm left you drained. There was nothing more you could do tonight. Your mind was gone, vision blurry with sleep. Your eyelids became heavy and you felt him get up. He came back with a damp cloth and cleaned you once more. You could feel his fascination with your skin and wanted to ask him about it but couldn't. 

________

Vader had pushed you too far. Your mind collapsed from all the feelings and sleep took you. He held you tightly in his arms only drifting off for an hour at a time. He would wake up startled having to check that you were still real. Then he’d have to check your pulse, feeling it with the force until he would drift off again. The force was taking him on a different path. One he had given up on long ago. But he knew that you were stubborn, he had his way with you last night but tomorrow would be a different story. You would either go with him back into the light or leave him. The thought of losing this power crushed him, but knowing he could be loved again would be worth it. 

A feeling overtook him and he realized he would do anything to live within your love for him. The way he had treated you was unforgivable, and yet you had so carefully tended to his wounds. Even after he had just inflicted wounds on your own flesh you still cared for his. He pulled the pot of salve from his nightstand and carefully applied the last of it to the deep purple bruises he had left on your flesh. 

He felt sick. He went to the dark side to end the war and prevent your death. He had ensured that you were safely away before crossing over. Palpatine had told him you were dead. He’d believed it, unable to feel you in the force till that ship had come into range. He wanted you to be untouched by his evil and last night he had all but raped you with it. Forcing your body to betray your mind. If he could get up without waking you he would have gone to the bathroom and vomited. The pain he felt was so great he felt you jump in his arms. Your head lifted from his shoulder. Your hair was a mess and your eyes could barely open, puffy from crying. 

Does it hurt - I can put on more salve. - Your words were hazy even in the bond.

Go to sleep - he pushed away his frightening thoughts and tried to be calm to sooth you. Your head fell against his shoulder and you were out cold again.  

He didn't have to do right by The Order, Obi-Wan, or Palpatine. He just needed to do right by you with what time he had left. The force was strong with you and your choices, so he made the choice to follow

Chapter Two: Finding Obi-Wan

#anakin skywalker #star wars #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #dark anakin skywalker #dark darth vader #darth vader #darth vader x reader #darth vader smut

[fluffyprettykitty]

Love's not a competition (but I'm winning)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 800 words

Outline: Bucky wants you to break up with him. But he really doesn't know what that means for him.

Warnings: breaking up, toxic relationships, mentions of ex, implied infidelity.

A/N: Based on Kaiser Chief's same-titled song and Bucky won the poll for this one! Hope you will enjoy!

PS: dividers & banners by @/saradika

Main Masterlist ・❥・Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You suddenly halt in your steps and take a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief. You notice that the sound of footsteps behind you is slow and steady, instead of the expected rush to stop you from leaving. This further confirms your decision to move on.

But this wasn't the last day.

Both of you knew that. But still, you cling on to your suitcase and place your hand on the door handle. You know he won't stop you, you know he never loved you enough to care about you other than what you could provide for him but still you want to see him on his knees begging for you like his ex-girlfriend used to beg him when you first had started seeing him.

But you were one of the many. Anytime, any day. Just another notch in his belt.

Until you weren't.

Somehow a one-night stand in a local bar turned into a year and you almost forgot how you met him. You almost forgot how much he loved treating people like toys. His light is engulfing and his smile draws you in and makes you forget. Makes you neglect yourself. And you're vulnerable. You always have been.

And even now the fights were constant, and lips crushed and crushed again until your bones were bleeding, the final straw came only last month.

"I know you want me gone." He said waving his fingers in front of his nose as if he wasn't believing his own bullshit anymore.

"I never said anything like that." You scoffed crossing your arms, you knew, right there you knew, it was time for him to move in on his next victim, maybe he got bored of you, or maybe she was smarter.

"I heard you." He slurred his words as if speaking was such a bother to him. Late October, yet early winter inside your heart.

"When you were talking to your friend the other day... on the phone." He turns to look at you. He was waiting for a moment like that, a complaint so he could justify his actions.

But you were smarter than that. You could hurt me where it would pain him the most.

His pride.

"Sorry, Tony was back in town and I must have gotten hella drunk." You spew a little lie over a concrete truth and you know it's enough to keep the wheels turning. You won't go down without a fight anyway.

He seems surprised even for a quick second that you can only tell only by observing him so much through the crowd. You knew he was talking about last week when you mentioned to your best friend Kate, how much you missed your old town and how much you couldn't stand this city anymore.

A vague thing, he loved grasping at straws.

He didn't inquire much just wished you on your merry way but when he came back to his apartment in the middle of the night he pushed you behind the door and devoured your body in a way that you feel like a masterpiece.

He always kept a score in his mind, any good thing you did for him and he'd reward you in bed, close to bed, anywhere but the bed. He never forgot.

"I've left some money in the envelope on the bed table for the next bills."

"You didn't have to do that. I can afford it all by myself."

"I know but I'm not a user." You retort and open the door, it's either freedom in the air or a deciding step at this point.

"I never said you were." He mumbles and somehow you wonder what you ever saw in him other than pretty eyes and a broken boy?

"I never said you did." You step out and you can tell he is confused, but he never paid enough attention to realize anything or to understand you. You were three steps ahead of the game always.

"Where will you stay?" His words escape him before he can control them and you know he is hurting inside.

"Somewhere." You smile and close the door. And you know It won't be long before he runs to the street to stop you, just like he did before.

But this time around you will leave cause you love doing anything he asked of you. And you'd remain the winner of the game for a long time.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

#selenewrites #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fic

[levmada]

in this exposé i will

Isayama talks about his drawing in way too humble a fashion. but this is especially true when it comes to emotions and expressions - especially in aot where emotions and the nuances of character emotions are portrayed outside of dialogue.

but - especially wit - went about doing a disservice to Levi in particular when putting his character to screen. i don't think it's too controversial to say that most aot fans are anime onlys right? and it's much less controversial to remember the very bad take that throughout aot Levi is emotionless.

obviously, this is clear enough in the anime. but the manga really brings the emotional spectrum of his character to all new horizons. it's been stated by Isayama that Levi is the most emotional character in aot. and if you cross-examine scenes in the manga vs the anime, this is unmistakable.

so i want to give a few examples of where the anime - mostly wit - miss these nuances in Levi's show of emotions.

thank you to this person on twt for giving me this idea with examples!

i'll start with what i consider the greatest offender of all (from the moments on my mind for now):

right as Midnight Sun starts, Levi has just managed to get back to Wall to find that Zeke is escaping and Armin is half-dead. he failed in carrying out Erwin's order.

i mean WOW, right? in both, Levi looks exhausted yes, but in the manga he looks frantic. on the verge of tears almost.

this is going to be a trend, where the anime portrays Levi in a much more hardened and determined manner compared to, arguably, how he really is. i think that there's a balance that the manga depicts much more equally.

later, Floch is recounting how he found Erwin. he found him alive, and considered putting him out of his misery, but decided that Erwin didn't deserve mercy.

this scares the shit out of Levi - much, much more clearly in the manga. in the left 2, he looks afraid in both, but in the manga, that fright is just. so much more intense. you know how strong Levi's feelings are.

right after RtS, Levi and Hange have come to let Eren and Mikasa out of jail.

understandably, Levi is neck deep in mourning. not just Erwin, but every life that was sacrificed just so he could fail; the two veteran squads that died when Bert transformed; Moblit; and of course Hange was badly injured too.

his depression is TANGIBLE in the manga. the anime doesn't convey it as well... (if at all i would argue)

in season 3, when Kenny has given his speech about how everyone is a slave to their own vice, and he's just retorted to Levi, "what're you, a hero?!"

clearly in the manga, he's much more exasperated. his head is hanging more and he looks pleading instead of angry.

the anime didn't even include this panel.

he feels sorry for him.

the attack on Liberio. Levi is cutting Zeke from his Titan.

in the manga, it's so INTENSE. i'm sure he's experiencing the same exact feelings as he did 4 years before. this moment is supposed to be his triumph - when he completes his promise to Erwin. you can clearly see the longing and disappointment, but along with forced determination, because putting on a show of killing Zeke is torturous for him, but it's his duty.

(i posted about this earlier but) Levi has just cut Zeke out of his Titan and needs to put down a grenade in order to give the impression that Zeke is dead. then he notices Magath, but most importantly that two kids are directly below him.

in the manga, his head is more downturned as opposed to above them, which is important in the scope of getting across that Levi doesn't see them (or Marleyans for that matter) as below him.

in the manga it's clear that he finds absolutely no satisfaction out of it, which is seen in the anime version too, but like i've said, not like Isayama gets it across.

#this is just a fucking literature review i would do for a fucking CLASS/lh #all im missing is a reference page in APA style #god im so down bad /lh #i'll add more later? especially if anyone has an example #its so interesting the differences #but for now im not going to rewatch any more of RtS than i have to thxxxxxx #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi ackerman aot #snk levi #snk levi ackerman #captain levi ackerman #aot meta #captain levi #levi attack on titan #attack on titan levi #aot levi

[tvlandofficiall]

its so weird to me that people saw deltarune be a portal fantasy and think that he's going to conclude the story in the typical portal fantasy way, when this is toby radiation fox we're talking about, his whole thing is genre subversion

to be fair, i think a lot of undertale's subversive elements have been somewhat lost on players as well — not in a derisive way, but rather because of the fact that undertale itself has grown into an odd niche in the cultural zeitgeist. the game's almost ten years old now — a lot of people who played it during their childhood are going to be in their twenties soon (if they aren't already)! for many players, undertale was one of their first rpgs ever — and so a lot of the subversive elements likely went over their heads, given they hadn't much to compare it to. nowadays, players compare games to undertale instead — the amount of people i've watched hesitate in an rpg game to wonder "is this going to be like undertale?" is not an insubstantial one. undertale has become the archetypical rpg to many, which causes somewhat of its subversive punch to be lost on its audience in the process.

i think this is a part of why deltarune has also had its subversive elements overlooked. deltarune goes to great pains to draw attention to many of the same older rpgs — both in the broad strokes (such as playing with the idea of a battle between light and dark) and in the small and specific references (seam is clearly inspired by the look and affect of zelda's happy mask salesman, for example.) but many may be relying on archetypical examples of portal fantasy to guide their way because they didn't pick up on the subversive elements of fox's writing style at all. in many portal fantasy stories, the conceit is that the protagonist must overcome the fantasy in some way and go home — the protagonist must grow to fit in with our society. the fantasy is often merely a means or an obstacle to that end. but deltarune takes great pains to invest us in these fantastical worlds and the people that live there beyond the archetypical — lancer, spades king, queen, spamton, ralsei, and everyone else are not merely written and framed as such. they struggle under the role of being objects. they have feelings about the way that they must live and react to that in ways that are realistic and not always easy to grapple with. when their worlds fade away, the game takes the time to linger on it and frames the dismissal of fantasy worlds as "lesser" as suitably disquieting. at every turn, deltarune draws attention to the things we would normally take for granted in a portal fantasy story and asks us to take a closer look.

#ooc #deltarune #I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE. i want to give people the benefit of the doubt where i can #tldr. my thesis statement. deltarune is NOT the pagemaster (1994) #it's not about escapism. nor is it saying the dark worlds are bad or unimportant!

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

The Last Breath

Warnings : dead dove do not eat, descriptions of drowning, reader is suicidal, depression. No death, light at the end of the tunnel

Not proofread. Experimenting.

Pairing : Geto x reader, Nanami mentioned indirectly.

It felt like everyone was moving on except you. Like you were frozen in time, frozen, like a dragonfly in the amber of his eyes.

You hadn't said anything as he explained gently, always gently, because he was never an unkind man, that he had fallen out of love with you. How compassionately he spoke to you, like he had still cared, saying he would look out for you, that you would be a part of his life no matter what.

And all you could do is sit there, staring at him, looking at the face you loved so dearly, still loved, in fact, and feeling your whole being shatter and collapse when you realized he wasn't looking at you the same way. There was gentleness there, born from the familiarity of being together. But the spark was gone.

What else could you do but ask why. Beg him not to leave, because honestly, what would you do without him? All these years together, you learning how he takes his coffee in the morning, tying his tie before he left for work, leaning against him as you watched TV together in the evenings. He has no answer. He loves you but is not in love with you.

He says he'll move out, you're the one who found this place after all, so many years ago when you had been looking for a place to live together. And just like that he erased himself from your life. The bed was so cold and empty. Sometimes you'd desperately grab his pillow, smell deeply, remnants of his cologne, his shampoo vaguely lingering on the fabric. What were you supposed to do? Lost, like an extra puzzle piece that didn't fit anywhere.

As he moved on, you pretended, drawing a veil over yourself, fooling everyone. Then one day he announced he's getting married.

Married.

He had found happiness. And you… Were wasting away over him, suffocating, drowning, dying, like someone had opened you up and pulled out your organs one by one.

You're not sure how you ended up at the bridge. But looking down into the cold, chilly depths, you felt nothing. In this world, where you belonged to nobody, what else was left to do? You were the problem. Different, misfit, outcast, undesirable, unwanted, rejected.

There's relief when you jump and feel nothing under your feet. Your body hits the water, and you offer no struggle, no resistance. They said most people feel regret after they jump but you didn't. There was nothing left for you. You plunge, deeper and deeper, the freezing water entering your nostrils, filling your lungs and it was searing agony but at the same time you knew it would end soon.

All you remember is the blond of his hair, the richness of his laugh, and feel yourself losing consciousness. Not a bad way to go. Comfortably numb, you sink into oblivion, feeling more peaceful than you'd ever been these last few years. The chill was a part of you now, almost welcoming, the closest thing to a lover's embrace you'd experienced in a while.

“Holy shit. No. Cmon. No. Don't die.”

Was there someone under the water with you?

“I've got you. Oh fuck please no.”

Something was wrong. The atmosphere was getting warmer instead of colder. You were heading for darkness and somehow there was light now. Had it happened? Was this the light everyone spoke about?

You're laid out on something firm and wet. Hands press down rigorously on your chest. You feel frantic lips on yours, blowing air back into your waterlogged lungs.

“Breathe damn it. No you can't die.”

The male voice sounded vaguely familiar but you hadn't heard it in years and struggle to place it. More rapid thrusts on your chest followed by the lips again and this time, as though a magnetic force had awakened in you, your soul retracts back into the body, eyes flying open as you retch and cough, water making it's way from your body to the outside.

A sigh of relief, and you hear someone collapse into a heap on next to you, gripping your body and rolling you to the side to help you vomit.

Weakly, you suck in a breath, wondering how on earth you were alive then finally catch a glimpse at your rescuer’s face.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing at first. Was it an illusion? Maybe you really were dead. Otherwise how could this be the reality?

“Geto?” you manage to rasp.

He looks at you, the panic on his face lessening slightly.

“Yeah. What the fuck were you trying to do?”

#nanami kento x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento #geto suguru #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru fluff #Jujutsu kaisen #Jjk #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen geto #vee writes

[celemilii]

NOT IN LOVE- FERNANDO ALONSO| 00;CUPID TEAM

WATTPAD | INSTAGRAM | MASTERLIST

warnings: curse words; in this universe Sebastian Vettel is getting divorce and starting dating Alessia (this is part from SHS saga on wattpad); english not being my first lenguage so my apologies if you see any mistakes :)

taglist: just tell me in the comments if you wanna be tagged in the following parts!

a/n: I hope you like this chapter!

⇚previous part next part⇛

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

2022

At a very young age I discovered that love is an illusion that, sooner or later, disappears without saying goodbye. It's just a mirage that shows how false it is when you get closer. I never understood how love can outweigh common sense and passion override logic, and how it's so disconcerting that no one else really knows how you feel when the only person you can trust with your back is to yourself, always. That's why when my intuition told me to send my resume to Mercedes, the Formula 1 team, without having any idea about the sport, I listened to it. Even when that didn't make the slightest sense.

I check my reflection in the mirror of the narrow bathroom in the Mercedes garage before heading back outside. There is a dress code that we must comply with when we come to the paddock. According to Mr. Wolff, we are the face behind the drivers, even when I am not involved in any way with them or the cars.

The clicking of my heels against the floor catches the attention of several of those present there, who turn to look at me strangely. The only ones I had had the opportunity to meet were the pilots and a few engineers who from time to time had meetings with Toto that I had to take care of.

"Mr. Wolff, I'm sorry to interrupt," I say in a strong voice, drawing the attention of the Austrian and the man I was with, who I believe is called Bono.

“Victoria, no problem. What's happening?” he crosses his arms and waits impatiently for what I want to say. The first warning I got as soon as I started working here was that Toto would try to intimidate me to prove what I'm made of, but he has no idea who he messed with.

“Interview with Sky Sports on 10,” notice, “with Webber and Chadwick,” pats the man's shoulder in farewell and tells me to follow him.

"Okay, this is what I want you to do today," he says as we leave the tent. “When you're in the garage, keep an eye on Roscoe…”

“Hamilton 's dog?”

“Yes, you have to take care of him. Besides…”

“With all due respect, I wasn't hired to be a babysitter, sir. I sort papers, schedule and remember appointments, I'll even bring coffee, but, as much as I love animals, I'm not anyone's caregiver.”

"It seems fair to me," my boss exclaims. “And you can tell me Toto, Victoria, that we are going to be together too long not to call each other by our names.”

"Of course, Toto," I say forcefully.

“Now, bring me a coffee like the usual ones for when the interview is over,” I look at him waiting for him to say what I want to hear and he seems to understand it. “Please.”

I walk away from the Austrian to look for wherever they sell coffee here.

I started working with Toto as soon as the year started, so we haven't been around for long. During pre-season I stayed at the England base because I was "not ready" to go to the paddock, as it seems I am now.

"Excuse me," I caught the attention of a girl who was walking around. “Do you know where I can buy coffee?”

"I'm looking for exactly the same thing as you," she tells me. “I've never been here.”

“Yeah, me neither, but my boss sent me to buy him coffee,” we started walking together almost without realizing it, so I guess we would look for it together.

“Your boss? Do you work here?”

“Yes, I am the assistant to the Director of Mercedes.”

“You are Toto's assistant!” she exclaims as if he had discovered the most interesting thing in the world.

“Are you a fan?”

“No, it's just... let's say I'm dating one of the pilots.”

“Oh, you're a wag.”

“No, my God! I hate when they say that. Besides, Sebastian and I are taking it slow,” Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian, which one was Sebastian?

“Sebastian... Vettel?" Fortune teller.

“Yes, exactly! By the way, I'm Alessia,” she introduced herself. “I'm already talking to you about my relationship and I don't even know your name,” I giggled at how nervous she had become and introduced myself as well.

“I am Victoria.”

“You are Spanish,” Alessia notes. “I like the accent. I am italian.”

“Oh, that's great.”

"Yes... I'm trying to learn Spanish," she says with excitement.

"I can help you if you need it," I offer.

When I left Spain, I left everything.

Friends, family, acquaintances, customs. It wouldn't hurt to have someone to talk to, someone who is in a similar situation to mine.

“Oh really!? I'd love to. Let's do this,” she says, taking her phone out of her bag, “save my number. We can go out if you want,” she smiles shyly at me and I nod. “There's Seb. Come let me introduce him to you.”

"Alessia, it's not necessary," I say as she drags me towards her boyfriend and his friend, whom I recognize from several advertisements they show on Spanish television.

His gaze crossed with mine and I didn't need words because I saw it all there.

Fernando Alonso

An idiot, a womanizer, who thinks he is better than anyone else just because he won two championships and because the national press idolizes him as if he were some kind of God.

I know I said I don't know things about sports but I don't live under a rock either.

Also, it's not the first time I've seen him. A few years ago, my ex-boyfriend and I went to a club where famous people used to go, to see if we could meet someone and, indeed, we did. Fernando Alonso with his hand under a girl's skirt in the middle of the dance floor.

A very good first impression.

"Mein Leben," the German exclaims when Alessia enters his field of vision and she laughs like a teenager in love.

“Vita mia,” greets the Italian. “This is Victoria,” she introduces me. “She is Toto's new assistant”

Sebastian barely looks at me when Ale greets me. He can't take his eyes off Alessia, who keeps talking about how we met by chance looking for coffee. The love in the blonde's eyes is evident, idyllic and I would even dare to say nostalgic. It looks real.

“The coffee shop is over there,” Alonso comes in, who doesn't take his eyes off me. “I'm Fernando,” he introduces himself.

“I know.”

“You are Spanish. A sports fan I guess," he says in a humorous tone.

“I can't be further away.”

"Wow, that's good too," he laughs nervously. He definitely wasn't expecting that answer.

"Alessia, I have to go," I warn her. “If when the interview ends, Toto doesn't have his coffee, he's going to get annoyed.”

"No, wait," the brunette man stops me.

“What's happening?” I ask confused.

“I…” he tries to find the right words while his hazel eyes merge with mine, as if he were looking for what he can't say in them, “nothing. I hope you find your coffee.”

[...]

I see Victoria go towards where I had pointed a few minutes ago wanting to go after her.

"You two have to help me," I ask the couple.

“To what?” asks my friend.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” I question before agreeing with them.

“No.”

“It's stupid,” supports Alessia.

"I didn't believe in it either," I admit, "but I just fell in love with Victoria.”

___________________________________

taglist:

@bellinghamsbitch

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #fernando alonso #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x female reader #fernando alonso fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader

[defectivehero]

warnings: child abuse, neglect, murder

"You seem jumpy today, detective," the villain whispers from just over their shoulder. The detective flinches and stiffens all at once, questioning how they didn't notice their enemy lurking in their office. Just how long have they been standing there? They don't realize the villain is waiting for an answer until they're coughing pointedly.

"Me, jumpy?" The detective asks wryly. They're not sure they manifest enough confidence to convince the villain—they're not even convincing themselves. "No." They turn their attention back to the newspapers in front of them, scanning for a name.

"Hm," the villain hums. Their hand is burning through the fabric of the detective's shirt, straight into their shoulder until their skin fuses together. The detective is trying their best not to pay their adversary any attention, yet even they can tell that there is an entirely different sentiment in the air today, in the interaction that has barely begun. "You think I haven't noticed?"

"You're going to have to be more specific," the detective spits out, their eyebrows furrowed. They return their attention to the newspaper, flipping a page with a shaking hand. They feel their shoulders shrinking as the villain casts a menacing shadow on the wall across from them.

For a moment, there is only silence as their enemy looks over their shoulder. For a moment, the detective is deluded enough to think that, perhaps, the villain's curiosity has been sated. But of course, their curiosity hasn't been fed. And of course, the villain's patience is a fickle thing.

Suddenly, the villain is reaching out and slamming a hand on top of the newspaper, snatching it from their desk and crumpling it into a wad, before shoving it in their pocket. The detective doesn't even bother to let out a protest, knowing it will fall on uncaring ears.

They decide to stare at the wall in front of them. Eye contact feels daunting right now. Unfortunately, their adversary doesn't share the same sentiment, as their chair is roughly spun around until the detective is forced to look up at the villain.

This conversation—if one could even call it that—is utterly confounding. The detective isn't sure if they should even bother to pretend like they know what's going on.

Their bewilderment only increases upon hearing the villain's next remark. "You've been avoiding me," they hum, a soft yet dangerous whisper in the still air.

"I've done nothing of the sort," the detective frowns, crossing a leg over their knee. They don't need to see the skeptical expression on the villain's face to know what they're thinking.

"Haven't you?" The villain murmurs. This is a new side to their enemy, a side the detective has not seen before. The villain has always seemed to find comfort in the shadows, in the smaller gestures. Now, their posture, their body language, is infuriatingly silent. The detective can hardly perceive the person in front of them. "Lingering on cases that went cold years ago, rereading files..." They break off, their gaze falling to the newspapers littering the surface of their desk. "You've practically gone full radio silence."

At that, the detective frowns. "I don't recall having an obligation to tell you everything," is the unfortunate phrase that rips its way from their lips. They almost flinch instinctually, waiting for a blow that doesn't come. Instead, the villain just breathes out a laugh.

"Of course not," their enemy acquiesces, with a flippant gesture. Their gaze has not moved in minutes. The detective is immensely uncomfortable, being so intensely scrutinized. They're supposed to be the one doing the scrutinizing, the one taking in information and drawing conclusions from it. "And yet, I find myself wondering. You seem to be... hiding from something."

The detective is rattled, they'll admit it. They never thought their behavior was so so mind-numbingly predictable, so easily deduced. They suppose they tend to fall into a world of their own creation when they dive into cold cases, neglecting even the most basic of rituals and activities. The detective is a frequent visitor of the shadows, soaking them in and absorbing their camouflage when necessary.

The villain is studying their every reaction. The detective is trying to keep the expression on their face as blank as possible, and they're sure it's not nearly convincing enough to fool anyone—let alone the villain.

"Or, perhaps, you're hiding from someone?" The villain asks, raising an eyebrow at them. And something in the detective snaps. All of the fear, rage, guilt, and helplessness brewing inside them just... slips out. They feel as if they're spilling their guts all over the ground, leaving puddles of bloody gore oozing out of their form as the purpose behind their actions is slowly teased out.

"Okay, that's enough," the detective hisses, pushing the villain away and getting up from their chair. They don't know where they're going—they just know they need to get away from here. It's getting too close for comfort now. Before long, they are going to cross a line they can't come back from. "I've entertained this silly farce for long enough, if you'll excuse me-"

Quick as a flash, the villain brandishes their knife. The metal gleams tauntingly, hovering a breath away from the detective's throat. The detective freezes in place. There's a wicked grin on their adversary's face. The detective's stomach turns in unease.

"Tell me what changed," the villain demands. There have been few times when they have appeared truly dangerous in the detective's eyes—now is one of those times. "Now."

"Fine," the detective says. "You really want to know? Fine. Let go of me." Something in their tone is commanding enough to convince the villain to release their grip and let their arm fall to their side, as if they'd been burned. The detective turns their back on their enemy, despite knowing full well the villain could sink that knife into their back right now. Then again, the villain is seeking answers. They're not going to kill them before they get those answers.

After a moment of rifling through their rather disorganized filing system—they really need to dedicate some time to sorting that out—they find what they're looking for.

"Years ago, when I was at the precinct," the detective starts, "I was asked to help out with a case. Child neglect, abuse; two siblings living in inhuman conditions. I was young, then. It turned my stomach."

It still does, the detective pointedly does not say. "The children escaped, made their way to the precinct. A few agents were sent to investigate the home they had been trapped in, only to find the dead body of their parent, horribly mutilated beyond recognition.

"The children were called in for questioning: they had an age gap of a few years. The younger sibling was clearly terrified. The older one seemed a bit more aware of their surroundings, but still wary. There was dried blood buried under the older one's fingernails and caked in the younger one's hair.

"After a rather lengthy interrogation, the children—well, young adults, I suppose—were determined to be innocent. What was left of their parent was cremated. The murderer was never found. The case file collected dust at the precinct.

"Years later, when I transferred to my own private agency, I took the file with me. That was very illegal, of course—had my coworkers caught me, I would've been in prison. But something didn't feel right.

"For a while, the file collected dust as it sat hidden in my desk. I resolved never to think about that case again—after all, it was my first. Arguably, my first failure.

"And then you showed up. Suddenly, those two siblings were following me into my dreams. I couldn't stop thinking about them, about the remnants of the house they were found in, about the trail that had gone cold and then simply... vanished.

"A few nights ago, I couldn't sleep. I found myself sitting at this desk in the bleak hours of the morning, tripping over the words the older sibling had uttered all those years ago. For some reason, I was getting a sense of déjà vu."

"Get on with it," the villain seethes, seemingly tired of waiting.

"Very well," the detective sighs. They suppose they were fortunate to get as much time speaking as they did. They hold the newspaper clipping up to their enemy, pointing at the picture buried in the corner. "This is you, isn't it? The older sibling?"

The villain takes a step closer, squints at the photo. It's small, after all. The detective watches as their eyes flit across the page, reading the headline: Child Abuser, Found Dead in Remnants of Home. The detective's heart is thundering in their chest. They wait for an answer.

"So it is," the villain hums disinterestedly. The detective feels their breath stall. The clock on the wall ticks mockingly, a haunting rhythm. The detective can't get rid of the inexplicable conviction that they've just made a horrible misstep. "And what are you going to do now?"

"What?" The detective chokes out. The voice that leaves their lips sounds foreign.

"What are you going to do?" The villain repeats slowly. They hand the newspaper clipping back. The detective tries to take it, but they miscalculate and it falls to the floor. Neither of the two notice or bother to bend down and pick it up. "Now that you've figured me out?"

The detective feels dread prickling along their skin. The villain continues. "The truth has been revealed. The mystery you were so desperate to solve.

"You wanted to understand me... And now, you have."

No. No. That can't be true. Surely, that can't be true. The detective watches helplessly as the villain regards them for a moment, before turning on their heel.

"I have nothing more to say to you," the villain says. The detective can't see them, but they know there is an utter lack of expression on the villain's face. And there is no emotion in their adversary's voice.

The detective watches silently as the villain walks away. The door to their office falls shut with a soft click. The detective stares at it in complete disbelief. They have never felt more lost and uncertain in their entire life. Yet, one thing is clear: they will never see the villain again.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain All Rights Reserved.

________

whew I went for the jugular in this one, huh...

and I really gave the detective a shuichi backstory, too... sigh....

I had originally written this to fit into the existing detective/villain pairing I have going (@red-is-the-reputation4444 this is loosely inspired by your ask with that detective quote)... but this snippet quickly spiraled out of my control. I figured I could keep things ambiguous and let the reader decide if this is a continuation of the existing pairing, or the creation of a new one. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

"they will never see the villain again" mhmmmm sure, sure.... definitely....

anyway. thanks for reading! <3

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