#lift your story podcast

[wcters]

𝟳 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗛𝗥𝗜𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬/𝗡 𝗕𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗨𝗧𝗘 (𝗣𝗟𝗨𝗦 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧)

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: you find a video of a series of clips that someone found of you and chris being cute

warnings: established relationship, swearing, kissing, covid (yes, it has to be a warning because it is horrible)

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise when you saw the title 7 minutes of Chris and Y/n being cute. You had just been scrolling on YouTube while sitting on the couch of the triplets house, waiting for the boys to be back from filming. You had started on Instagram, catching up on family and friends, and liking some posts that you were tagged in. You then moved to YouTube after getting bored and there was nothing new on your feed.

You never expected to see something like this besides the five to ten second clips on TikTok when you’re caught in the back of a video or posted on someone’s Snapchat story, but you were surprised and entertained that someone had gotten a whole seven minutes. You weren’t an influencer or content creator of any kind; you worked a menial job and only posted on Instagram and TikTok, and rarely featured in the boys’ videos. You knew you would be in the public eye when you and Chris started dating, but you didn’t expect your relationship to have a following.

You ended up clicking on it, interest taking over and the amount of views reeling you in. You wanted to see why the video was so popular . . . And maybe show it to Chris when he came home. The first thing that greeted you was an intro, and then the clips started. The first one was from a recent video where Nick, Matt, and Chris travelled to Texas for a Sam and Colby collab. You tagged along, wanting to go to a couple stores and also offered to help film for the duo’s video. The clip was where Nick decided to wake up you and Chris with Lemonade. You barely remembered that happened as you were so drowsy, and are still confused why the oldest brother thought it was so funny.

Nick walked towards the bed where you and Chris were laying down. Chris was on his back with his head facing the direction of the camera. You were on your stomach, head tucked into the boys neck as your arm was sprawled across his chest. Chris opted to sleep shirtless even though it was insanely cold in Texas while you were wearing a sweater and some spandex, your leg peeking out of the comforter. When you and Chris cuddled when you slept, he always ended up burning hot and you subconsciously slip some part of your body out of the covers.

“Chris do you want a sip?” Nick’s voice was heard as he tilted the bottle of lemonade towards you both. “Y/n?” You made a ‘hm’ sound and Chris lifted his head up, delirious but still making sure not to knock your head. He put it down once he saw his brother. He shuffled a little bit, turning his head. “Do you want a sip or no? Are you thirsty?” Nick continued, tilting the bottle even more? This time you had opened your eyes, looking up at your best friend. “Nick . . . What?” You questioned, confused. “Of what Nick?” Chris’s voice came from beside you, hoarse from sleep.

“Lemonade. Do you guys want some?” The oldest triplet continued. You curled more towards Chris and tightened your arms around him as you made a sound of annoyance. “Nick, I’m tired. Please.” You begged him, shoving your face into the crook of your boyfriends neck again. “Are you fucking stupid?” Your boyfriend asked, awake enough to realize what was happening and get angry. “Leave us alone.” Nick raised his hands in defense. “Alright, alright. It’s over here if you want it,” he spoke as he placed it down. “Go away.” You murmured as you fell back asleep, Chris turning towards you.

The next clip was the boys on the podcast. They were talking with Nate about childhood memories and growing up together in Boston. The camera flipped from Matt to Chris as he was doing something on his phone. “━━ I’m sorry Matt. Chris . . . what are you doing?” Nick interrupted the boy as he faced towards Chris. Chris lifted his head in surprise. “We’re literally doing a podcast. Who are you texting?” “Probably Y/n.” Nate guessed as the whole table started to laugh except for Chris. “No, I’m not.” He denied as he covered his face with his hands. “You totally were.” Matt argued. “Okay, fine, I was. It was about something important though so let’s drop it and get back to what we were talking about.” Chris shut the conversation down and placed his phone on the counter face up.

“Alright. Matt, what were you saying?” Nick turned to Matt. The topic was dropped but every once in a while Chris would look at his phone. The group must’ve been really into the podcast as no one noticed your car pull up, or the door opening and you walking in. You had placed the cases of Pepsi and Doctor Pepper on their counter before opening the Pepsi case, grabbing one, and heading upstairs. Nate was in the middle of talking about hockey when they heard your footsteps. Everyone swivelled their heads to see you walking into the room with a can of Pepsi. “Oh. My. God. Chris.” Nick gasped as he saw you. “Hi,” you waved, “sorry to interrupt.” “It’s no problem babe.” Chris responded, grabbing your body as you got close and put you in his lap.

“Did you call her all the way over here to bring you Pepsi?” Matt asked, clearly shocked. Chris blushed out of embarrassment in response. “You think he wouldn’t?” Nate butted in making everyone laugh. “I also got Doctor Pepper,” you shrugged, “I was also getting off work.” Your boyfriend pointed to you. “Like I said, it was important.” Nate was laughing as his best friends stared at their bother in shock. “Alright, I’m going to head out. The cases are downstairs. Anyone want one?” You asked, getting up off of Chris. There was a chorus of ‘no thank you’s’ from around the table. “Thank you.” Chris smiled at you as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun!” You waved as you headed downstairs.

The first time you had really been “revealed” to the fan base was on a livestream . . . And it was by accident. This clip was shorter than the rest, but it was probably the most popular if you had to guess. You had been dating Chris for awhile and this live was around the time when they started to get attention and more followers on their social media. It was back in their house in Boston. Nick had started a livestream for whatever reason and Matt had joined it after a couple minutes. You and Chris were watching a movie in his room so you didn’t participate ━━ and the fact that people didn’t even know about you. You didn’t even know it was happening, the boys didn’t text and warn you guys, so when you went downstairs with Chris to get some popcorn and drinks, both of your figures were shown in the background.

Nick and Matt didn’t even notice you guys until you appeared in front of them and were in the middle of opening the fridge. They looked to the chat to see if they saw you . . . And they definitely did. Not enough to identify you because all of the comments were asking who you were, but still enough to let people know Chris had a girlfriend. The two boys looked at each other before muting the live. It stayed on for a minute or two before they had ended it with a quick ‘goodbye’. Next thing you knew, #chrissturniologirlfriend was trending on your twitter with pictures of you and Chris from the live plastered over the tweets. That’s what led to the soft launch Instagram post and your presence being known, as well as you making your Instagram private for awhile.

A certain clip had you smiling and blushing like a little kid, remembering it happening and the whole trip. It was when went to Vermont for their annual family holiday and Chris had asked you to come along, as well as Nick and Matt. You said yes, but we’re nervous. I mean, you were going on your first trip with his parents? They ended up loving having you there, but you were scared shitless. Nick was holding the camera showing Matt feeding some of the Alpacas with Chris in the back.

You could see the brunette go slightly out of frame before he comes back, you trailing behind. “Come on,” he said to you, “just try it.” You playfully rolled your eyes before he passed you some of the feed and you held it out. You let out a noise of surprise as the alpaca started to eat it. “Oh my god.” You whispered, looking at it before pulling away. You were clueless to the camera showing you and Chris whispering while you were holding each others hand. “Do you want to do it again?” Your boyfriend asked you. “I think I’m alright.” You laughed. “Here’s a couple change to get some more food though.” He kissed your cheek as you passed him some coins from your pocket. “You’re the best,” he said before quickly kissing you and going back to the machines.

You never knew how they get their hands on them, but so many clips of Chris and Matt playing lacrosse ended up on your for you page and feed on Instagram. You didn’t even know those were on the internet except for Mary-Lou’s socials. There were so many edits of that clip of Chris taking his helmet off and them posing for a picture with all three of them and their mom, but you had yet to see this one. It was practically the same, all four lined up while their picture was getting taken. Then Mary-Lou made a ‘come here’ movement with her hand and you appeared on camera next to Chris. You remembered that moment and being so proud, but not video taped.

You posed for a couple pictures with them, then just you and the triplets. They were also your best friends, you even came to the game with Nick and Mary-Lou. You three had gossiped while watching the game and taken so many videos. Then, the two brothers moved away and Mary-Lou moved into frame with her phone up. It was just you and Chris posing this time, and it caught you licking your finger to get some of the leftover face paint that was a little messed up off his face. Chris had made a weird face but let you do it anyway. You would’ve slapped his hand away if he even tried. You think you said something along the lines of “you’ll thank me later.”

You had watched Larray after you had seen some of his vines on a vine compilation while YouTube was just filled with those. You were so excited ━━ and jealous ━━ when the twins got noticed and met up with Larray for the first time. You were even more excited when you met him. You had watched him for years, through all his phases, so you recognized when one of his videos popped up.

“Where would you want your first date?” Chris had asked Larray. They talked about Larray’s choice of waffle house before Chris said “I want to go to Topgolf.” “You want to hit balls with your girl?” Arrington replied, looking at Chris. “Well, I didn’t have a chance to take Y/n on a first date in LA, and we’ve only went with Matt and Nick, so I’d want to go to TopGolf with just her,” Chris explained, “our first date back in Boston was at some mini golf place. I’d like to take her to remind her of our first one . . . And because we both like TopGolf.” “That was so cute.”Larray chimed in, covering his mouth with his hand. “It’s one of the only times.” Matt joked which earned a slap from his brother. “That’s so not true.” He argued. “Either way, it’s well deserved. She’s amazing.” Larray praised you.

You remembered watching this with Chris when it came out and literally standing up in shock, hitting him when you got up. “You got more excited over Larray complementing you than me being cute and talking about us?” Chris asked in shock. “You think I wouldn’t?” He nodded at that. “Still upset, but that is true.”

The last clip was one of you and Chris like the rest . . . But also Nick and Matt. Nick had had a cold the last time you saw him, Matt, and Chris. He didn’t think it was anything but a cold, but it turned out it was COVID. Chris let you know as soon as they figured it out, and then Matt tested positive. You felt bad because they were stuck in the house for at least a week . . . And they’re not the best at cooking food for themselves, all they did was just order in or go out if you didn’t bring over some food or cook when you’re over there.

Since you weren’t over there, you figured you would go over and drop off some pre-made food and some other drinks and necessities like medicine, toilet paper, masks, tests, etc. You had had the weekend off so you had time to go over and help them. You didn’t know they were vlogging so you were surprised when you knocked on Chris’s door with a mask and a bowl of soup and he greeted you with a camera in your face. “Y/n? What are you doing here?” He asked you, tilting the camera down a bit. “I felt bad because you guys - no offence - eat like shit and thought you would want some homemade food.” You laughed, giving him the bowl as he put the camera down.

“Thanks. I miss your cooking and you over here. It’s so fucking boring.” He told you. “I’m sure you’ll survive. On the kitchen counter there’s some medicine, masks, tests, and some other stuff that you might run out of. If you need anything else.” He nodded. “I wish I could hug and kiss you but I’m sick and don’t want to get you sick.” “How am I going to survive?” You teased, smiling at him from under the mask. “I don’t know. Well, anyway, go save Nick and Matt too. I’m sure they’ll appreciate you.” Your boyfriend smiled at you as he waved and closed the door.

It was almost the exact same situation with Matt and Nick. Door opening with a camera in your face and surprise written in theirs. You had given them your soup and the same rundown you gave Chris. They said their ‘thank you’s’ and Nick promised to give you a hug. This was all caught on camera and added into the vlog, with an edit from Nick saying “you saved our lives.”

#emma writes #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #x reader #x fem!reader #imagine #youtube #youtube imagine #fanfic

[astonmartinii]

hi!! i really love your blog: i usually stay silent and only like the posts but i thought today should be the day i request something!

would you be open to write a social media au with lando Norris x y/n where the reader is a marine biologist? or a surfer? or something ocean-related lmao

feel free to disregard this request if you don’t like it or don’t have time!! xx

just add water | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem reader

first fish ruined his appetite, now they steal his girlfriend?

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 103,451 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: perks of the job but back on shore i clock in to my full time job of missing lando

view all comments

user1: can we have the hair routine cause miss ma'am is in the sea every damn day and her hair is still healthier than mine

user2: REAL

landonorris: f1 is just my day job, talking about you is my passion and career

yourusername: babe even the whales in monterey bay know about you

landonorris: they better be mclaren fans

yourusername: eh i think i heard super max (whale edition) the other day

maxverstappen1: conquered all of f1 and the seven seas so real of me

landonorris: THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE SAYING THE RISING OCEAN TEMPERATURES ARE FRYING THEIR BRAINS

yourusername: babe don't joke about that :(

landonorris: sorry :(

oscarpiastri: can you please come to the next race i may put my head through a wall if i have to watch this man go through his camera roll again RETELLING me all of the stories

yourusername: didn't realise we were so annoying 🧐

oscarpiastri: don't get me wrong you guys are cute but sometimes i wanna nap after practice in peace and not hear about whale shit

landonorris: i SEE HOW IT IS

alexalbon: no oscar is right i've heard about when had a baby seal on her surfboard about seven billion times

yourusername: HEY that was cute

user3: okay but lando could talk to ME about y/n's adventures

user4: i want to hear ALL of it for real

user5: lando and y/n podcast when?

alexalbon: do not give them ideas they’re already number one and two yappers in the international waffling championship

yourusername: yapper and proud 😤

landonorris: healthy relationship communications and boundaries? no. yappers? yes!

alexalbon: has anyone ever told you guys you’re annoying?

yourusername: yes 😃

user6: they’re so annoying i love them

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,451 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: does this girl own a pair of trousers? real question.

view all comments

user8: i actually don't think i've ever seen a man this down bad

user9: ALL men should aspire to be this whipped

yourusername: i wish you would join the no trouser revolution, give the girlies something to look at

user10: i agree

yourusername: okay back up babe that ass is all mine

landonorris: it's okay babe you can admire your (my) ass all the time if you come home PLS

yourusername: sorry babe the ocean doesn't sleep and the whales need me

landonorris: but i need you too :(

maxverstappen1: WAH WAH I'M SICK OF YOUR FUCKING WHINING

alexalbon: THANK YOU FINALLY

landonorris: erm why am i being victimised in my own comment section

maxverstappen1: you are doing my fucking nut in mate yeha i get you miss her but kinda your fault for having a cool gf with a cool job

yourusername: omg thanks 😊

landonorris: Y/N???

yourusername: babe no offence but he's a three time world champ i'm gonna take the compliment

landonorris: i guess so :(

user10: just one normal comment section, please that is all i ask for

oscarpiastri: maybe i should get on this whole j.peg business cause my photography is doing some heavy lifting here

yourusername: i didn't take you for a stunt queen miss rookie

landonorris: where is the peace, love and positivity ?? you guys are such haters

oscarpiastri: proudly

yourusername: no cool shells for you mr piastri

oscarpiastri: I TAKE IT BACK

landonorris: you people are such flip flops

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 112,872 others

yourusername: i promise we do actually do work

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user14: why am i now considering a marine biology degree for a sick ass instagram feed

user15: and protecting the sanctity of ocean life?

user14: yeah sure throw that in there too?

landonorris: i hope you slapped the FUCK out of that stingray for steve irwin

yourusername: babe we all know violence is not the answer

landonorris: you said you'd break the knee caps of any driver that took me out?

yourusername: i do not recall this

landonorris: steve irwin is a national treasure, you should've done it for oscar

oscarpiastri: i'm sure it wasn't that exact stingray mate

landonorris: you don't know that

danielricciardo: i see you've forgotten about the other aussie you were teammates with ???

yourusername: i wouldn't have that if i were you daniel

landonorris: y/n??? you're meant to be on my side

yourusername: say sorry to larry and maybe i'll gang up on daniel with you

danielricciardo: Y/N???

landonorris: i'm sorry larry ... and daniel i guess ?

danielricciardo: if my hand weren't broken right now...

user16: okay i think lando is having y/n withdrawals

yourusername: his bitchiness is a symptom of separation anxiety

landonorris: sorry not sorry

user17: mclaren pr praying for y/n to come to a race soon

maxverstappen1: p says pretty please can she bagsy the pink shells?

yourusername: most definitely she can !! i'll even be on the look out for more

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n you're my favourite - p

yourusername: that's it i'm coming home rn

landonorris: am i a joke to you?

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,322,099 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: reunited and it feels so good oh and a double podium, pretty sweet

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user21: obsessed with how lando said that y/n is clearly his lucky charm and the "dumbass" ocean won't be getting his girlfriend back

user22: there's levels to hating and lando's level of hating on the ocean??

user23: his hatred of fish makes so much more sense right now

user24: either he hates anything to do with the ocean or y/n convinced him they deserve to live 😭

landonorris: i'll say it's number one but realistically it's two greatly helped by the fact that it tastes gross anyway

yourusername: I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU

landonorris: i know hhehehehehehehe

yourusername: i love you stupid

landonorris: i love you too dummy

yourusername: as much as i enjoyed this race i am ready for home time (after karaoke, you promised me karaoke with yuki)

landonorris: AHAHAHAAH TAKE THAT OCEAN Y/N COMING HOME

alexalbon: bro has beef with the ocean 😭

georgerussell63: bro had to share his gf with WATER 😭

maxverstappen1: bro is being ... torn apart here KEEP GOING LOL

oscarpiastri: no keep going cause i just want a nap before debrief and some people are being WAY TOO LOUD

carlossainz55: i think that's probably why you guys are getting away with bullying the little goblin

user25: oscar out here just confirming that lando and y/n are ... for lack of a better word up to no good?

user26: y/n didn't lie when she called him a stunt queen

landonorris: i can't hear y'all LALALALALALA

yourusername: they hate us because they ain't us

landonorris: period 💅

user27: i hate (love) them your honour

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 419,034 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: so he had the whole proposal planned out but got a bit too excited at suzuka ... if anyone asks we got engaged on a boat in the mediterranean not in his driver's room. aside from that, HOLY FUCK I AM ENGAGED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE I LOVE YOU LANDO I CAN'T WAIT FOR FOREVER

view all comments

user30: HOLY 😭 FUCKING 😭 SHIT 😭

landonorris: can we agree on no more like three month placements pretty please?

yourusername: baby the whales need me

landonorris: i need you more FIANCE :(

yourusername: gosh you are convincing, no more retreats for more than a month

landonorris: yay !!

yourusername: you need to put up more shelves for our shells though

landonorris: on it, i love you (i'm calling my dad to do it)

yourusername: i love you too baby

danielricciardo: enchante tease on the engagement post and for free ??? love you two

yourusername: at least you have the prettiest model ever for it

landonorris: I'M BLUSHING

danielricciardo: i'll deal with this because i'm happy for you two

mclarenf1: double podium and an engagement, suzuka really delivered this year

oscarpiastri: i guess i take back my comments about being loud in the drivers room... i'm so happy for you guys you deserve it

landonorris: ahaha i knew you were a softy really pastry boy

yourusername: i always knew you loved us really oscar, you're just sassy and we respect that

landonorris: .... sure

maxverstappen1: did he propose at sea in one final power move over his arch nemesis the ocean?

yourusername: have you considered he did it at sea because i'm a marine biologist and i love it out there and he loves me?

maxverstappen1: well now i look like an asshole

landonorris: the sea 0 - 1 lando

yourusername: lando 😭

user31: well this has all been a rollercoaster

fin.

note: i've been kinda mia on here and i'm super sorry this request has taken so long lol. wanted to get this out now though cause lando had a horrid day today but i'm glad he's okay !! enjoy, i'm in my second week of a job so might get less busy xx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #lando norris insta au #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris

[cheriladycl01]

I'm not scared! Colby Brock x MotoGPDriver! Reader Part 2

Plot: You made a tweet about Sam and Colby and were in a podcast and they brought up Sam and Colby where you talked about the paranormal and how it doesn't really scare you because you drive motorcycles at over 200mph.

"Sam?" you ask seeing the blonde man behind you.

"Hey!" he exclaims coming forward and pulling you into a hug. You stood there in shock that you were actually meeting these boys and that they were coming to watch you race.

"Hey!" Another voice says from behind Sam, he was taller with dark hair and you knew it was Colby.

"Hey, Colby?" you ask looking over him and he nods.

"Can we post some pictures off us all together?" Sam asks seeing as you guys were all at the airport.

"Yeah sure! I'll drive you guys to the hotel then yeah?" you ask looking over them. You all take a selfie, you stood in the middle of the two of them with a big smile on your face. After taking some more photos you take a rucksack from what was at Sam's feet and he tried to protest but upon seeing how easily you picked up the heavy equipment filled back he let you help out.

"Are you guys doing any filming while you are here, or is this strictly vacationing?" you ask looking over at them while you all clamber into the lift.

"We haven't planned on doing any big filming, just TikTok's at the race and stuff! We want to come back here though as there's so many more places..." Colbly answers glancing over at you.

"Okay, well let's get you guys set up in the hotel and then my treat and I'll take you both out for food" you grin and they both nod eagerly.

You take them to the carpark and they look around trying to find out which car is yours.

As you start to walk all the way towards the back Colby starts to complain as to why you'd park so far away when there's so many available spaces towards the front.

When they walk up to your New Model Ferrari, your question is answered.

"Holy shit, that's a nice car!" Sam exclaims looking over it, not evening daring to touch it. You whip the key out your pocket opening the boot where you strategically place their bags. One of them would have to have a bag or two in the second back seat because of the sport aspect to the car.

"I really should have brought the Audi" you sigh, looking at the bags in the back before you slowly close the boot. Sam and Colby sharing a look with each other.

"I call Shot Gun!" Sam cries going to the front driver's side door.

"You aren't driving my car, Sam!" you giggle knowing he hasn't realized where he's stood.

"Right, yeah I forgot we're in the UK" Sam laughs but see's Colby getting in the passenger side door.

"Snooze you loose buddy!" he exclaims making you laugh.

The drive to the hotel wasn't too long, you guys spoke about anything that came up in conversation. It was all so natural as if you'd known them for years and you felt so comfortable in their presence.

You helped them into their hotel room, while Colby made a little video to put on his Instagram story.

"Hey guys, it's Colby. I'm of course here with Sam and we're here in England again" he shows the camera the outside of the hotel that was in the Hilton on the edge of the Silverstone Race Track. "But we have a very special guest that we are being shown round by today. Y/N Y/L/N!" he says panning the camera to you and showing them you.

"Hey!" you grin before Colby switches the camera back on him and Sam.

"We're going to go live here later, so go comment under my latest twitter post all the questions you guys want to ask and we'll answer any questions you guys have an discuss what is up and coming for the three of us!" he grins before ending it with a little peace out sign.

"That gives us time to discuss over dinner yeah?" Sam asks and you nod.

You guys all head on a train into London to get some food from the city rather than staying around Silverstone.

"So, have you guys thought of any locations you want to investigate?" you ask, knowing there was definitely some in the UK that they hadn't done here in the UK, but you travelled round so much that you were pretty much willing to go anywhere.

"We were thinking of going back to Australia, we did it at the start of the year and we got some really interesting footage while we were there" Sam offers.

"I don't think we've done enough in the UK either, there's some great places in Wales, and Scotland we haven't done too!" Colby suggests, he loved when they visit here, it always had some of the best energy whenever they came here.

"Yeah I feel like you guys don't want to rinse America of its haunted spots, so either of those would be cool! There's so many like haunted places worldwide, I guess it's just an issue of asking permission of whether or not you can get to view it like solo and be able to have the place to yourself!" you admit, understanding why they probably hadn't done the Paris Catacombs or Bangarth Fort in India or Proveglia Island in Italy.

"Well, it's up to you maybe we can ask what the fans think tonight. We have time, I cant imagine Y/N will be free for filming for a while anyway right?" Colby asks, again. He was fully aware of your driving schedule but he knew it was a lot of exhausting travel.

After lots of talking and getting to know them you all went back to the hotel, you set up Colby's phone in their room and started and insta live while you and Sam had the Tweet up that Colby posted earlier in the replies.

"Hey guys!" Colby smiles as he watches fans flood into the chat already starting to ask questions in the chat.

"Okay guys, we'll only be answering questions from the tweet we sent out on the shared account earlier okay?" Sam laughs seeing people asking who you were and what you were doing there.

You were laughing when you saw fans asking if you were Colby's new girlfriend. They were the ones that were obviously Sam and Colby fans and didn't venture into motorsport.

There was others in the live defending you, trying to explain who you were.

"Y/N you wanna introduce yourself?" Sam asks seeing the majority of comments be asking who you were and what you were doing with the boys.

"Okay, so for the Sam and Colby fans I'm a MotoGP driver, so I drive motorbikes around race tracks all over the world, really really quickly! I made a silly drunk tweet saying I wouldn't be scared to collab with these two and here we are!" you grin, as people start flooding the comments.

"Yes, guys she is very fast! We'll be cheering for her at Silverstone!" Sam says looking at the more comments flooding in.

"Okay guys, we are moving onto your twitter questions now. No more answering from here!"

"Okay the first one I found is, is Y/N good at what she does?" Sam says before raising and eyebrow.

"Well, Sam and Colby haven't watched me yet. But you can see all of my races of YouTube!" you smile politely.

"She's a better driver than the both of us, I'll give her that!" Colby exclaims looking at him phone seeing the emoji spam.

"Where are you thinking of investigating next and will it be with Y/N?" you read out, scrolling through the twitter thread trying to find good ones.

"Next one coming out wont be Y/N because we haven't even filmed with her yet, and I think we might be filming with one other person before her depending on schedules. so maybe Y/N can be a hell week guest if the timings right? But... again not sure if we'll want to do something with her before then, incase that's too much for her to ...yano handle!" Colby explains while smirking as you turn to hit him in shock.

"I would be fine on hell week! I'll smash anything, any challenge let me rephrase that you give me and I will do it!" you grin.

"Mmmmm, we'll see!" Sam teases.

"I mean, while we are here in the UK, would you have time to do something. We've got some contacts we could whip something up?" Colby asks reading the instagram chat seeing that everyone's wondering why you aren't doing anything soon as you don't have to be in Austria until August the 16th.

"I mean, I'm down..." you grin, wondering where they could possibly take you.

"Okay, guys you heard Y/N if we can get something sorted we may be filming in the next few days after the race!" Sam exclaims happier.

Once you'd sifted through most of the questions about who you were and why you were with the boys you got onto the more random questions that were just sort of get to know you.

"When do you prefer to work out, morning or evening?" Sam asks, looking from Colby to you.

"I'm definitely an evening guy, I tend to be more proactive around that time and I've never been one to wake up early with a lot of motivation for the day" Colby explains before Sam nods and agrees that he prefers the evening.

"As and athlete I have a set plan and that means I work out in both the morning and the evenings but I honestly prefer the morning because it feels to me like I've got it out the way!" you giggle and Colby looks over at you shocked.

"You work out twice a day?" he asks with a raised brow.

"Yeah, I have to have really good core strength for on the bike" you nod.

"What's your go-to comfort food?" you ask looking between them while they have a thoughtful expression.

"Mmmm probably like my mum's cooking something like her mashed potato or her lasagna" Colby offers when thinking about it for a little bit.

"Oh! I didn't even think of my parents cooking, I went for more of a guilty pleasure and went for Taco Bell Burrito!" Sam nods and then they turn to you.

"Well, comfort food for me has to be healthy so I actually learnt from good friend of mine and F1 driver Lando Norris about this chicken and pineapple wrap that he has and once i tried it ... just stuck in my head 24/7 on a loop" you laugh, before finding a picture of you and Lando eating them.

"Chicken and Pineapple?" Sam asks with a frown on his face and you just chuckle.

"Don't knock it until you try it!" you exclaim.

"Suppose you enjoy pineapple on pizza too!" Colby jokes.

"On cheat day i do yes!" you grin.

You guys answer a few more questions before you agree that you need to go to bed as it's media day tomorrow and you'll have to be up early.

Taglist:

@richardsamboramylove55

#sam and colby x reader #sam and colby #sam and colby imagine #sam golbach #colby brock imagine #colby brock #colby x reader #colby brock x reader #sam golbach x reader #motogp #lando norris #sam and colby fluff #sam and colby fanfiction #25x25 #xplr #paranormal investigation

[merrybloomwrites]

A Podcast Love Story

Summary: The story of Shayne & Y/N, as told through a series of podcasts

AN: This story was inspired by a request from someone that tumblr isn't letting me tag, so that's dumb lol

Also, I tried to follow the actual timeline of when these podcasts were posted but I did take some creative liberty, so some things might not match up with when the were really posted irl

Wordcount: 3.4K

CW: very light mention of smut, talk about pregnancy

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

SmoshCast #75 – How Shayne and Courtney Feel About Being Shipped Together

Dating someone who’s in the public eye was not entirely unexpected. You live in Los Angeles after all. When you and Shayne started dating in 2019 you decided to keep it a secret for a while. Neither of you were ready to share your relationship with the Smosh viewers yet.

This became more difficult when you decided to quarantine together in 2020 during the pandemic. Two weeks after he returned from Australia, when you were sure that neither of you had Covid, you packed your necessities and headed to Shayne’s. It was nice being together, but it did get complicated when he needed to film videos.

Sometimes you would go for a walk while he was filming. Other times you would hide in the other room. He’d triple check all his footage before submitting it to make sure you, and any of your belongings, weren’t in frame.

One day, a few months in, he and Courtney are recording an episode of the SmoshCast. He sets up at the small dining table in the corner of the living room. You’re on the couch, meaning you can’t be seen on the camera, but you are in Shayne’s view. It might not have been the smartest decision since you’re now stuck there for the entire time they record, but you have a book and a snack, so you get cozy.

You can only hear Shayne’s side of the conversation, so you’re not fully paying attention. That is, until you hear Shayne say, “If we so much as say hi to each other, Shartney fans poop themselves.” The mention of this ship between him and his castmate has you more focused on the conversation. Not because you’re jealous, because that would be ridiculous, but because all of you find it quite funny how hard the two of them are shipped.

He can’t stop looking over to you for the entire ten-minute segment. It’s subtle, but there’s definitely a connection between the two of you. It’s obvious that he’s reassuring you that there’s nothing to worry about. You especially like when he says, “You can ship me with anything. Ship me with bananas.” And you nearly lose it when he says, “I am begging you, please, make a ship edit of me and Kathy Bates.”

They continue to talk and the conversation steers towards how fans make assumptions based on what they see in videos. Shayne brings up how people were concerned about him for a few weeks at the beginning of quarantine. He starts to explain, “I was very quiet in those early podcasts, but the reason was, one, I was not getting enough sleep. I kept staying up late,” here he looks at you before quickly saying, “playing video games.” You again struggle to keep quiet, knowing that was not the truth. Unless “playing video games” has now become code for “having intimate moments with my girlfriend”.

He continues to talk about how his setup for recording was less than ideal and finishes by saying, “I wasn’t sad at all, I was actually having great days.” Again, you share a quick look, showing that you agree with him about how wonderful it’s been since you started living together.

They wrap up the podcast a little while later and Shayne is officially done with work for the day.

“Playing video games, huh?” you say teasingly.

“Oh yea, totally a pro gamer now,” he replies.

“You think so?” you say with a laugh.

“I mean, I could always use more practice,” he answers as he lifts you from the couch, carrying you to the bedroom.

SmoshCast #85 – American Horror Story: Adulting

A few months later and things are looking better in the world. This means a return to the office for everyone. You’d landed a job at Smosh, working in post-production, so now you and Shayne work together. You were nervous about being around each other all the time, but luckily there’s still a fair amount of the day when you’re apart. Shayne is often filming or in meetings or busy writing, and you spend most of the time at your desk working on the next video.

But sometimes, you get a break to see him. Shayne, Damien, and Coutney are filming a new SmoshCast episode, and you sneak in to watch from the back. The theme is “Adulting”, and they somehow start by talking about how they interact with the younger generation. You can’t help but smile as Shayne talks about his niece, endeared by the relationship he has with her. He also mentions grandchildren, which makes your imagination run away thinking about your future together.

You stay for a little while and just watch your boyfriend. He’s not saying anything crazy, or doing anything special, but you love listening to him give advice. You also love how attentive he is to his friends, how closely he listens to everything they say. When you do go back to your desk you take a moment to think about how lucky you are that this man, with a solid head on his shoulders and more emotional maturity than you’ve ever seen before, is your other half.

Smosh Mouth #5 – Shayne and Y/N Share Their Love Story

“Welcome back to Smosh Mouth, I’m Shayne.”

“And I’m Amanda.”

“And today we have a very special guest. We have my lovely wife, Y/N Topp,” Shayne says, smiling at you as he finished the introduction.

“Hello everyone,” you say into the microphone.

It’s weird being in front of the camera. It’s only happened a few times in the years that you’ve been with Shayne. Even though you also work at Smosh, you’re always behind the scenes. You’ve only really been in videos that highlight the crew, so the focus has rarely been on you.

But today you’re finally sitting down to do a podcast for the channel. They’d just revived the podcast after a nearly three-year hiatus.

So much has happened in your personal life since then. At the time that SmoshCast was airing, your relationship with Shayne was fairly new, and you weren’t ready to share it yet. Within a year of that last episode going live, you two had gotten engaged. This led to you guys getting married, and as of 22 weeks ago, you being pregnant with your first child.

“Well, I for one am very excited to have you here today,” Amanda says. “I cannot wait to grill you on every last detail of your relationship.” You all laugh at that, knowing that while you’re sharing more personal information than you ever have before, no one is going to push you or Shayne too much.

“So,” Amanda continues. “Tell me, how did you meet?”

You look to Shayne, encouraging him to start the story.

“We met in 2019,” he begins. “Someone had recommended a book to me, so I was at the library to pick it up. While I was looking through the shelf Y/N came over and started looking through the section as well. We kind of started at opposite ends and moved to meet in the middle. Turns out we were both looking for the same book.”

“No you were not!” Amanda interjects.

“We really were,” you say to confirm. “We basically have the most cliché meet-cute story.”

“Ya, no kidding! So, what happened next?” she asks.

“Well, I had picked up the book first and noticed Y/N glance at it. So we started talking and I told her she should take the book first and I’d read it when she’s done.”

“And then he very smoothly said he could give me his number so I could tell him when I was returning the book,” you add.

“Look at you,” Amanda says. “Making the bold moves.”

“I had to give it a try,” Shayne says with a laugh.

“And it worked. I texted him a couple weeks later, the day before I returned the book.”

“I didn’t have her number,” Shayne says. “And I was kicking myself for not getting it because waiting to hear from her was pretty torturous I’m not gonna lie. So as soon as she texted about the book I asked her on a date.”

“Which actually shocked me at first. I really though he only was interested in the book.”

“Did you know who he was?” Amanda asks. “Like, had you watched Smosh or seen him on TV before you met?”

“I did know who he was. I had just started watching Smosh, so I recognized him but really didn’t know much about him.”

“Did you start watching old videos and try to get to know more about him after you met? Or after he asked you out?”

“I tried not to. I wanted to get to know him naturally, not through videos online. But there was a video posted after he asked me out but before our date called ‘Why We’re Bad at Dating’ and I couldn’t resist. And I truly think it helped us hit it off on that first date.”

“How so?” Amanda inquires.

Shayne takes that question, saying, “In the episode I talked about what I do on dates that kind of lead to there not being a second date. And Y/N/N called me out on that.”

You chime in, adding, “He said he puts on a ‘CW’ version of himself. I told him not to do that. And I admitted to being just as anxious about the date as he was so we should just forget the pressure and hang out and get to know each other.”

“Well, that’s adorable,” Amanda says. “So obviously you started dating and kept dating. When did you take the next step?”

Shayne takes this question and says, “I asked her to be my girlfriend a couple months later. And then we moved in together shortly after the start of the pandemic. Which was slightly challenging when it came to filming at home for Smosh since we wanted to keep the relationship a secret for a while.”

“Yea, how in the world did you make that work?”

“We were very, very careful,” you say. “I definitely hid in the bathroom more than once to stay out of frame.” At this you all laugh, and you add, “Totally worth it, though.”

“Ok, next juicy question. Shayne, how did you propose?”

“So, I hired a sky writer,” he says before laughing and continuing, “No, just kidding. We’d been dating for a year and a half, living together for almost a year at the time. We rented a cabin in Colorado for a few days and on the second day we went on a hike. Packed a picnic, did the whole thing. And I uh, I proposed at the top of the mountain.”

“You guys are literally a romcom,” Amanda quips.

“Would a romcom do a hike proposal? I feel like they’re always at fancy restaurant or the beach. Or like, yelling ‘Will you marry me?’ As the girl walks away down a street in the pouring rain,” you say.

“Oh, a hike proposal is very Lifetime or Hallmark.”

“Good point, it’s totally been in at least one of those movies.”

“Did you like that it was on a hike?” Amanda asks.

“Yea, Y/N/N, did you like it?” Shayne says, pretending to be truly concerned and worried about your answer.

“Hated it,” you say jokingly. “No, honestly, I loved it. Shayne and I always bonded over how much we love nature, so it was perfect for us. I can’t imagine it being any other way. I know a lot of girls want to make sure their nails are done so they get that perfect ring picture, which totally fine, not judging at all. But it definitely felt right that I literally had dirt under my nails and scrapes on my palms from slipping up the hill. Much more authentic that way.”

“And the wedding, anything you want to share about it?” Amanda asks.

“We actually got married in New Mexico,” you say. “It was the central spot for both our families. It was last April, so, beautiful weather during the day. And we lucked out that the temperature didn’t drop too much at night.”

“Very nice,” Amanda replies. “Shayne, anything to add?”

“We kept it pretty small, just family, and close friends. I feel like it was a very typical wedding, but it was ours, you know? So, it was special.” Shayne blushes and you know that your wedding day means more to him than he’s letting on. And that’s fine with you. It was a private event, and even though you’re sharing your relationship now, neither of you want to give away too much about your wedding.

“Aw, he’s getting red,” Amanda jokes. “Did you go on a honeymoon?”

“We did. We went to Hawaii. Neither of us had been before so we knew it would be special for us. We wanted to experience something new together,” you answer.

“Cute!” she replies. “Now, dedicated fans know you guys are together, know you’re married and all that. But there is some news you two have to share that no one knows, is that correct?”

“That’s right,” Shayne says. He looks at you, silently asking if you want to say it. But you can tell he’s bursting to tell everyone, so you give him a nod to continue.

“Y/N and I are having a baby,” he says.

“Hell yea you are! Smosh baby!” Amanda cheers. “Congratulations to you both! Y/N, how are you feeling?”

“Pretty good right now. I’m in the second trimester so my morning sickness is mostly gone, thank god. We’re very excited, got some classes we’re planning to take and we’re reading all the books so I’m sure we will still be extremely unprepared,” you say with a laugh.

“If there’s anyone I trust to figure it out and be great parents, it’s the two of you,” Amanda replies earnestly.

“Thank you, Amanda,” Shayne says.

The podcast continues with Amanda continuing to ask questions and you and Shayne sharing more stories about your time together.

You wrap up recording by mid-afternoon. You have an appointment with your doctor scheduled and since it’s so close to the end of the day, Shayne was also given time off to join you. Everything goes well and as he drives you both home you can’t help but be grateful that the two of you were brought together.

Smosh Reads Reddit Stories: Office Nightmares

It’s been a month and a half since recording your episode of SmoshMouth, and three weeks since it aired. The news that you and Shayne are expecting a baby spread faster than anything you’d experienced before. You’d both received messages of congratulations from more people than you had ever expected: from Smosh fans to Disney fans, and even Goldbergs fans. You never imagined the amount of support you’d receive.

You had the morning off for yet another checkup with your doctor. You get back to the office early, but technically you’re still scheduled to be off, so you opt to sit in as they record the next Reddit Story video/podcast. It’s one of your favorite series currently, and you love listening to Shayne read all the stories.

He begins the third story, reading the title, “Am I the asshole for telling my wife that I’m not taking off of work to be present at our daughters’ birth?”

They joke around for a bit, and then he dives into the story, reading how the man explains that he couldn’t take off work cause there’s a project and they need him there. The wife finds out that’s a lie, and it mad that he didn’t take time off. He says he wants to work more so they’d have more money after the birth, and that the baby wouldn’t even remember him being there. He finishes by saying he doesn’t know why it’s such a big deal to be there at the birth, and even blames the wife’s hormones for her being upset about it.

Shayne, along with Spencer and Tommy begin to share their thoughts on the story. You smile and nod as Shayne makes the point of, “He keeps saying the baby’s not gonna remember, but you’re fucking wife will!”

They even give reasons why they’d understand him not being there, with Tommy saying, “If they were really desperate for cash then I’d get it,” and Spencer saying he’d understand if he were terrified of being around childbirth.

The boys then look over to you and Spencer says, “Y/N, you’re pregnant, how do you feel about this story?”

“Yea,” Tommy adds, “would you kill Shayne if he did this?”

“Oh, for sure!” you call out.

“C’mere,” Shayne says. “You’re probably the one most qualified to give an opinion here.”

You look to Kiana who’s directing the video and she gives you a nod, so you walk onto the set and stand behind Shayne, leaning down so your face is next to his and your voice will get picked up on his microphone.

“What are you’re thoughts on this?” Tommy asks.

“You guys definitely made a lot of great points. I mean, childbirth is terrifying, and I keep trying to ignore the fact that I do have to actually, you know, birth a human. But I know that Shayne will be there and is studying to be the best support person. I mean, he’s read enough books about it, I think he could deliver the baby himself if necessary,” you say with a laugh.

“I will add, if this was the father of my child, I’d wonder what he actually deems important. Because this is arguably one of the biggest days of everyone’s life. First of all, it should be important to him. It’s literally his child entering the world. It’s a privilege to be one of the first people that baby will ever meet. And then, what will be a big enough deal for him to take off work in the future? Baby’s not gonna remember her first birthday, is he gonna go to that? She has a dance recital at three years old, is he going to think that’s silly and not go?”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that, but it makes sense,” Spencer replies. “He definitely seems to have his priorities and being there for his family isn’t one.”

“I truly cannot imagine not being there when our kid is born,” Shayne says. “My worst fear would be if something kept me from being there.”

“Because you’re a good person,” Tommy says bluntly, and everyone laughs.

You head back off camera as they continue on.

After a few more stories Shayne begins another entry, titled, “And I the asshole for eating the last doughnut before my pregnant coworker could have one?” He looks at you once he reads it and laughs before saying, “Y/N’s face says, yes absolutely you are.”

He reads the story which explains that the young employee ate his allotted two doughnuts, and when the pregnant coworker didn’t show up after half an hour, he ate her two as well. She gets there shortly after and explains she had car trouble and is upset to see everyone had a treat but didn’t save her any. Later, the boss pulls aside the employee to tell him he’d been rude to his coworker.

After he finishes the post the boys discuss the etiquette of eating communal snacks in the office before Shayne says, “Also, if there is one thing I know, it’s that you never mess with a pregnant woman’s food unless you want to die.” You laugh so loudly at this that you know for sure the mics picked it up from across the room.

“Y/N, anything to add?” Spencer says.

You walk over again and state, “Listen, all I’m say is that I’m mad you guys are just talking about doughnuts when we don’t have any. Cause cravings are a bitch and now I am literally not going to stop thinking about doughnuts until I get one.”

After moving offscreen you realize you need to pee, again, so you leave the studio to head to the bathroom. Once you’re out of the room Shayne says, “Hey Kiana, can I have my phone a second?”

“Why do you need your phone?” Spencer asks.

“I gotta doordash some doughnuts.”

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

AN: Thanks for reading! Let me know if you have any requests for Shayne stories!

Taglist: @american-girl001 @tatumrileyslover @queenofcaradelle @1nkm0nster

#shayne topp x reader

[sturn777]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖓𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖘!

chris sturniolo x read

(no mention of y/n)

tags: @st7rnioioss @its-jennarose @timmyscomputer @kriissy4gov @liz-stxrn @sunrisemill @riasturns @mx0qin @junnniiieee07 @alorsxsturn @nonameisthegameandilovejake

creds to -> @mattssluttywaist

Chris sat next to you, huffing loudly and impatiently. Biting your lip you hid your smile, knowing exactly what he was about to whine about. “When does the nail lady get-”

“She’s pulling up right now princess.” You mocked jokingly, allowing your outgrown nails to massage his scalp as he slouched on the couch.

A knock echoed from the door, causing Chris to jump up excitedly and rush down the stairs before you could even sit up straight. Laughing, you walked after him greeting Emma.

Emma was your best friend in high-school, though you’re not as close now she became a nail tech and does your nails — something Chris loves.

Your guy’s tradition started when Emma first game round the triplets house, you were staying for a while and were in need of new acrylics so you invited Emma round.

Chris watched over your shoulder for the entire three hours. Frequently asking Emma questions.

“How long have you been doing this for?”

“How do you do that?”

“Does this cost loads?”

“Woah, how’d you do that so smoothly.”

“Bro that looks so cool.”

And in the end he ended up sitting in the chair too whilst you watched over his shoulder — his brands logo being painted delicately onto his short nails.

The next time she came round Chris went first, getting orange smiles on the random finger. So when your turn cane around you decided to copy him and put orange smileys on your long acrylics.

“Alright so… who’s going first?” Emma asked, opening the suitcase that contained all her equipment in — somehow fitting in an entire stool to lean against as well.

Chris looked towards you pleadingly, cheering loudly after you nodded with a grin on your face. “Show Emma the pictures!” he exclaimed, pointing towards your phone as he rolled up his sleeves and sat down.

Taking your phone out your pocket you turned the screen towards Emma, receiving a nod as she started taking products out her case.

You sat next to Chris patiently at the table, playing a podcast you both frequently watched so neither of you would get bored whilst making conversation with Emma, who was switching between you both as your nails dried.

Soon enough both your nails were finished and glossy. You both had your pictures taken before Emma packed away and left — Chris paying her despite your disagreement.

Later on you and all the triplets were spread across the couch whilst a movie played. Nick wasn’t paying attention as he was answering questions and dm’s on snapchat to put on his story, and Matt was scrolling through tiktok on low volume.

Chris tapped your shoulder, causing you to look up from your head leaning on his chest. “Can you massage my hair again? Please.” he whispered, fiddling with your hand that was on his lap.

You nodded with a lazy smile as you were half asleep already. Lifting the hand that wasn’t holding Chris’ to his head, you started scratching and making patterns gently with the tips of your acrylics. Chris giggled and shivered slightly at the sensation before relaxing into it.

#jake webber x reader #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #jake webber #tara yummy #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #get to know me #masterlist #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo

[see-arcane]

Alright, slightly more coherent now

Yes! YES! Mina's heart-eyes were coming through at full volume when describing her Jonathan riding up, terrifying the guarding crowd out of his way, leaping on the wagon, and Lifting the Whole Box o' Dracula over his head just to slam dunk it on the ground. It was exactly as, "Dear Diary, I knew that now wasn't the time to climb my husband like a vampire-chucking cryptid tree, and I hated that, but I was so brave about it" as I was hoping it'd be

Oh man, the final Dracu-cackle was delightful. The big mounting villainous laugh building to its horror story crescendo...only to have Jonathan K.(ukri) Harker slice right through the bastard's neck as he chokes and gurgles. Plus the Bowie heart staking as punctuation. Magnificent. Delicious. Stupendous. The Power of Love is here to collect your fucking head, buddy, 1000/10 stars

And then. Quincey. Oh God, Quincey. This is the first time in the entire series--in any podcast series--that I laid where I was and cried. Listening to this good man bleed and smile and die the way I had always known he would, but the wound of it hurting so much more than mourning a sheet of paper had. The acting. The sound design. The music, both there and in the parting song. It carved my heart out. And it was great.

One. More. Episode. I am not ready to hear it. I am not ready for this ride to be over. But I can't wait regardless. It's a day early, but thank you for all of this @re-dracula. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

#I need a moment #I need several moments #god this entry... #re: dracula #dracula #dracula daily

[headphonegrl]

Truthfully, Jude never thought that much about love before you. He was only presented with it through romantic comedies or the literature he was forced to read in school, stories all neat and wrapped up in a bow without all the in-between moments. Though when he and love were properly acquainted he found that those were the best parts; not the sobs of declaration or the meticulously planned grand gestures, but the bits that are usually perceived as unimportant or mundane that now feel nothing but intimate.

The habit he has of trying to catch your attention from across a busy room. Sticking his tongue out and smiling ear to ear when you return the gesture, like you’re both naughty kids communicating across a classroom. Pursing his lips together as if he’s blowing a kiss and feigning rejection when you don’t follow it with the obligatory catching motion. Making himself go cross-eyed even though it gives him a headache to see you giggle discreetly into the palm of your hand.

How when he peels the skin off an orange with his fingernails and splits it in two, he always gives you the bigger half. Even though he does the opposite with everyone else, and denies all accountability when they point it out. How usually he’d fight to get the last bite of cake but now he leaves it neatly in the middle of the plate just for you. Even if it’s his favourite, even if he wants it so desperately his stomach gurgles.

All the voice notes you send where he rapidly clicks on the ‘keep’ button before it disappears forever. The comfort of having all your mini ramblings right in his pocket, like his own little podcast that makes his heart swell. He listens to your five-minute reenactment of your trip to the coffee shop as he falls asleep with his cheek squished against the pillow. On the way to training he puts his earphones in and hears you try to explain the book you just finished in one sitting.

That when you're both standing outside in the cold with your breath making clouds of condensation in front of you, he’ll without fail sacrifice his warmth for your cold hands. Lifting his arm up so you can bury them deep into his coat pockets, amongst the loose chain and crumpled up receipts. Blowing hot air onto your fingers and rubbing his palms over the back of your hands over and over like you would with two sticks to start a fire, until your bottom lips stops shivering and you break out into a smile. 

Jude doesn’t understand why everyone is wasting their time talking about proposals with a hundred red roses when getting the giggles while you brush your teeth together is right there. He believes that there should be entire film scenes dedicated to that moment when your leg knocks against his underneath the table. Entire book chapters written about what it feels like to rest his temple against the side of your shoulder. He thinks maybe then he would've thought about love a lot more, maybe even all the time. 

#two posts in like 48 ish hours #shes so crazzzzyyyy love her #my writing #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fanfic #footballer fluff #footballer x you #football imagines #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer blurb #footballer fanfic #footballer x y/n

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Black Light 9

Warnings: noncon, namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note:thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You gape for a moment before you’re certain this is real. You wet your lips with your tongue as you sway nervously in the doorway. You are poorly prepared for company.

“Um, I’m not allowed to have boys in my bedroom,” you say.

August scoffs and stands. His deliberate slowness underlines his size and has your brows popping up your forehead. Oh, he is very big and strong. Of course, you knew that already, you always thought he was built like the Terminator, but it’s very obvious at that moment.

“I’m not a boy,” he growls as he takes a step forward.

You chuckles nervously and drag a foot back as your heart races. The questions bubble up all at once; how did he get in here? Why is he here? And most concerningly, what does he want?

“Sorry, uh, sir, man,” you babble, “I just…” you blink and look around, “I wasn’t expecting–”

You spin and race down the hall, gripping the towel for dear life as it flaps dangerously. You hear him barreling behind you and you let out a shrill cry.

No, no, no. Why is he doing this? You’re a friendly person, all you ever do is be nice to him, so why is lifting you up right now? Why are your feet kicking in the air above the carpet as he drags you backwards?

His thick arm traps you against him, writhing as you fling and arm out trying to grasp onto anything. You whimper as your fingers claw over the pictures of your parents’ many couples’ trips and your annual camping excursions. 

“Why are you doing this? Please…” your hand hooks around the doorframe as he turns into your room, grunting as your head hits his chin, “please, I didn’t do anything.” He yanks you away from the doorway, your fingers bending back painfully. “Please don’t murder me. Please. I don’t wanna be a story on a podcast.”

He turns and flings you so you land on your bed, bouncing jarringly as you barely keep your towel from flying completely open. He stands at the end of the mattress, hands on his hips, looming over you. His eyes narrow as his nostrils flare.

“Alright, well, we can cut a deal, make it fast?” You plea, “I don’t think I can handle torture–”

He rolls his eyes and grabs the middle of his shirt. You flinch as he swoops his shirt over his head and tosses it away. It catches and dangles from your SpiderGwen figure. Good, she doesn’t need to be a witness.

He reaches for you and you shriek. No! You can’t go out like this. You saw too many movies on Jack the Ripper not to put up a fight. You kick out and he swiftly deflects your foot with his elbow. He latches onto the towel and rips it away, leaving you naked and stunned.

You look down and push yourself up, trying to cover yourself as you curl into a ball.

“Hey dude, can I at least die in some clothes?”

He huffs again, giving you that look you get, the one that says ‘stupid little girl’. You furrow your brow as he snakes his hand along the front of his shorts and tweaks a brow. He grabs the bulge there, the one you hadn’t noticed behind the swish fabric.

“Oh,” your head clicks, “ohhhhh…” a cold river flows down your body, “well, that’s flattering but I don’t know if I’m ready–”

He rescinds his hand and shakes his head, muttering under his breath. He goes to your dresser and pulls open the drawer. He sifts through the contents as you watch in confusion. You uncross your arms and put your heels on the bed as you keep an eye on him.

You shimmy towards the foot of the bed slowly, trying not to break his attention. He has two of your belts in hand, the braided white leather and the glittery pink leopard print. You get closer and lower your legs down until your soles are on the floor.

You stand and he spins. You cry out as he just as swiftly strides back to you, grabbing you by the throat. You whimper as he pushes you down to the bed. You wriggle helplessly and touch his wrist.

“I didn’t mean to run into you…” you gurgle.

He snarls, irritation needling between his brows. He runs his hand to your shoulder and flips you over. You yelp and he smacks your ass, hard. You kick your feet and whine.

“Ouch! Okay, look, I agree there's tension here but you're a bit above my age range--”

“Quiet,” he sneers as he grabs your arms and pulls them back behind you, “must you make everything difficult.”

“Uh, I think I have every right– to make–this— difficult,” you try to pull free but he overpowers you easily. He winds the belt around your wrists, tight until your hands throb, and knots it.

He stretches a knee high sock above your head then swoops it around your face, gagging you with it and tying it at the back of your skull. You garble around it, unable to close your mouth fully as it saps the moisture from your tongue. You wiggle, like a snake and he turns you onto your back.

“Now,” he stands before you and hooks his thumbs in the elastic of his shorts, “no more talking.”

#august walker #dark august walker #dark!august walker #august walker x reader #drabble #au #the club #black light #mission impossible: fallout #series

[itsjusthockey]

Road Trip - Cole Caufield

Summer Series Open Now

For your reading pleasure...enjoy

Send in your requests for Summer Series, please and thank you.

w.c:669

“Is six packs of gummy worms really necessary?”

Cole glances your way, feigning an offended expression. “Please don’t question the snack choices. I've had extensive training in snack procurement, and I'm highly qualified for this job."

You let out a snort, rolling your eyes at the drama Queen, and finish throwing the rest of the snacks in the car. You’re almost packing everything away when a familiar bright green package catches your eye.

“You hate these.” You grab the big bag of Warheads and shake them slightly at Cole

He does a once-over of the candy and shrugs his shoulders. “I do, but you don’t.”

A small smile spreads across your lips. Though you’d never tell, it’s the little things like this that he remembers that make warmth spreads in your body.

You bump his shoulder slightly as you move next to him, helping him grab his bags of hockey gear and loading them into the already full car.

“Okay, we got everything?”

It’s more a question for yourself than for Cole; he has a terrible memory; you both know it, so you’re in charge of ensuring you both survive this road trip.

"I think so,” Cole confirms with a satisfied nod. The car is loaded with snacks, drinks, and all the necessary gear for your trip to the infamous Hughes Lake House.

“All right, let’s go. I got four episodes of unsolved mysteries waiting for us.”

In mere minutes you’re pulled out of the driveway and on the open road. You’re listening to your favorite podcast and watching as the miles pass, and you couldn’t be happier.

You get precisely fifteen minutes into the drive with your best friend when he turns the volume down, grabbing your full attention.

“Are you excited?” He quickly glances at you, then back to the road.

“Of course I am.”

You offer him a smile, but when he glances your way, he doesn’t seem too convinced.

“Are you sure?”

You know that Cole knows you better than almost anyone in the world, so trying to lie to him won’t work, especially when you’re in the same confined space for the next few hours.

“Okay…a little nervous, but that’s because they’re all your hockey friends. I’ve never met the other two to the big three, and I’m just a little unsure if they’ll like me.”

Cole glances at you, his expression softening. He reaches over and squeezes your hand reassuringly. "Hey, they're going to love you. You're amazing, and in two seconds, they’ll be stealing all your attention away from me.”

A laugh spills out from your lips, and you take a deep breath, feeling the tension melt away as his words wash over you. "

“And I know the guys can be a lot, but Jacks's girlfriend is dying to meet you.”

Suddenly an enormous weight is taken off your shoulders, knowing she’ll be there. You’d only ever heard stories about her from Cole, but from what you know, you think you’ll be great friends.

“Thank god, that makes me feel better already.”

Cole chuckles, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "See, nothing to worry about. Besides, you're not just my plus-one; they all basically know you.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “how’s that?”

“I talk about you all the time.”

His words warm your heart, and you lean into his reassuring presence. "Aww, you love me so much."

He flashes you a grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Yeah yeah, don’t tell anyone, though; I have a reputation to maintain.”

With a renewed sense of excitement and the weight of nervousness lifted, you both settle back into the comfort and grab some snacks, watching the miles tick by. You can’t help but feel excited about the upcoming week. You know it will be fun, and you’re also excited to spend time with Cole.

You really only had one goal for this summer. One simple goal. Make Cole fall for you just as hard as you’re falling for him.

#hockey #hockey boys #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey fic #nhl hockey #jack hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield imagine #montreal canadiens #summerlakehouseseries #summer #myblurbs #my fic

[senorabond]

Rumor Has It: Chapter 2 (Peña x f!reader x Pike)

Pairings: Javier Pena x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Pena x f!reader x Pike

Chapter 2 Summary: You’re reviewing the case file Javi gave you when a memory of your last night in D.C. distracts you. After a bit of a brainstorm, you decide it’s finally time to call Marcus back and get his opinion. He always has the right words.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters

Chapter Warnings: masturbation (f!reader), flashback, thigh riding, oral sex (f receiving), semi-public/workplace sex (evidence locker after hours), hand on throat for control, Dom/sub dynamic, soft Dom!Marcus, praise kink, you are such a good girl

Reader/Character notes: Reader is fem/afab. Marcus is strong enough to lift Reader up onto the edge of a table (no mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color), Reader has hair long enough for Marcus to brush away from face, Marcus is super thoughtful and thorough when planning for sexy times

Words: ~4.5k

Author's Notes: A huge thank you again to @kilamonster for being my wonderful beta, talking me through my fear of posting dirty talk, and letting me bounce random porny ideas off her. <3

Again, there’s no specific time/setting, I just really wanted to get both Javi and Marcus together in the same story. In my mind, Javi is post-s3 of Narcos, and Marcus is somewhere around/after s7ep1 of The Mentalist.

I learned basically everything I know about the court system from true crime TV and podcasts, so the legalese here is purposefully vague. I have no idea what it would take to prosecute a federal case, lol. However, I did find some interesting information while researching art fraud/money laundering! I’m happy to share links to my sources if anybody is interested.

Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Chapter 2

Later that night, you sit cross-legged on your bed, the various photos and documents from Peña spread out around you. You can see why he was so adamant about Customs involvement – there was enough circumstantial evidence in front of you for some lower-level courts to convict. Peña doesn’t strike you as the type to take chances though, not at this point in his career. If he’s making an arrest, he wants a case airtight, no room for technicalities or sympathetic juries. He’ll have worked with enough federal prosecutors to know what he needs to put bastards away and keep them there.

You think back to your conversation with Peña for what must be the twelfth time since that afternoon. It’s still difficult to reconcile the reputation with the man. Javier Peña, the senior DEA agent, was by reputation a force of nature; women and men alike wanted him and wanted to be him. He is unapologetically brash, arrogant, and always gets his way. If he believes something is worth getting, he’ll do whatever it takes, even if he has to use less than savory channels. 

Javier Peña, the man, is intense, focused, driven, and has some of the saddest, most beautiful, big brown eyes you’d ever seen. He has a level of self-awareness you hadn’t expected. He struggles with asking for help, even if he can recognize his own limitations. 

With a sigh, you take the wire transcript in hand and lean back against the pillows propped up against the headboard. The conversation had thankfully already been translated from Spanish with the original attached for reference. You had basic Spanish under your belt from high school and learned some choice slang from friends and exes, but you didn’t know nearly enough to comprehend the entire conversation on paper in front of you. 

The men were discussing various works of art and their estimated values at auction and on the black market. One of the men, Castano, was insisting he could simply forge a copy of a famous painting since it was “just a bunch of splattered paint” that “didn’t look like anything anyway.” You chuckled to yourself. 

You used to think the same thing about the abstract expressionism paintings you’d seen until somebody actually took the time to explain the meaning behind the movement. Agent Marcus Pike knew a lot about art – it was his job, after all, as head of the FBI’s art crimes unit in D.C. You worked closely with Pike and his squad to close a major case before you put in for the transfer to Texas. The two of you had spent a lot of time together and grown close, developing a mutual professional respect before things had ever gotten personal. 

Your thoughts travel back to the last time Pike taught you something about art. It’s a bittersweet thought, since that was also your last night in D.C., and the last time you saw him. You’d come so close to saying more than you were ready to admit, and certainly more than you were ready to hear in return. 

With a sigh, you drop the transcript on the bed and fall back onto your pillows. That last night in D.C. was also the last time you experienced an orgasm you didn’t give yourself. More than one, actually. 

Your mind floods with images and sensations from that night and, rather unconsciously, your hands begin to retrace the parts of your body Marcus had touched. Fingertips ghost over the crook of your neck and across your collarbone to the collar of your worn t-shirt. Marcus’ t-shirt, actually. You’d stolen it unapologetically when he’d forgotten it at your place and told him it looked better on you anyway. Marcus had agreed, and then shown just how much better he liked it on you.

While your one hand is occupied at your breast, the other busies itself at the waistband of your panties. Eyes closed, you slide a finger over your dampening slit, remembering the path Marcus’ tongue traveled as your breath hitches. God, that man could use his mouth. And he loved to use it on you. You let the memory of that night wash over you…

Washington, D.C. 6 months ago

“There is one thing I need right now.” You feel a bit giddy at your recklessness, but any nerves you might have are quelled when Marcus runs the tip of his nose up your jawline to your ear. 

“And what’s that? Hm?” He inhales your scent and hums with pleasure. Before you can stop yourself, you shift the hand at Marcus’ hip to his crotch. When you feel how hard he already is you release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

Marcus inhales sharply through his nose at your touch, then lets out a groan in your ear at your gentle squeeze. “Tell me what you need.” His five o’clock shadow rasps against your sensitive skin as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth. 

“I need you to show me that evidence locker you haven’t shut up about since we met.” 

~~~

Pike stands behind you in the elevator in case you happen upon anybody else working late at the office. The odds are low, except for the contracted private security officers, but you didn’t think they’d want to see Pike’s hardon either. He’s so close, he’s almost pressed against your back while caressing a palm over your ass. You try to keep a straight face, but are practically panting through parted lips.

“You’ve been wanting this for a long time, haven’t you?” Marcus asks, his voice low in your ear as he leans over to push the button for the correct floor. His tone is almost conversational, but you can feel the thread of excitement pulling taut between your bodies. He’d been teasing you with the idea of fucking you in the art squad’s evidence locker for months now, going into great detail about what he was going to do to you – you only had to ask. 

You nod silently in response as the elevator doors close, and Pike grips your waist, grinding his erection into your lower back. “Yes,” your breath huffs out. He likes you to use your words, and strokes your arm with an approving hum. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” Your nipples harden at his words and your breath comes out shakily. 

Marcus was the first person you’d ever been with to call you a good girl. You never thought you’d be into the kind of gentle dominance and steady stream of praise Marcus employed with you, but it made all the right synapses fire in your brain and took the experience to an entirely different level. 

You nod again, playing the game, knowing what he wants to hear.

Marcus’ hand splays across your lower belly, the other sweeping gently across your throat and brushing your hair away from your face. He’s pressing into you, the energy coming off him in waves, leaving you feeling heady. 

“Say it for me.” It’s spoken softly, coaxing, but still an unmistakable command. 

“I’ll be a good girl for you.” Your voice has the slightest waver, but ends strong.

Marcus’ hand on your belly inches lower and heat radiates between your thighs. “I know you will.”

The doors of the elevator open with a ding that makes you jump, and Marcus moves back with a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Gently, he guides you with a hand between your shoulder blades. You’re on one of the underground levels, where the low ceilings and fluorescent lights are stark reminders that you’re both still in a government building and cameras are watching your every move. 

A security guard rounds a corner and Marcus clears his throat, then moves to button his suit jacket, presumably to hide his erection. How he manages to walk with that thing when it’s hard, you’ll never know. 

The guard waves amiably. “Good evening, Agent Pike. What’re you still doing here so late?” Of course Pike knows the guard; probably knows his kids’ names too. 

“Just had something to finish off first.” Biting your tongue to keep from laughing, the two of you pass the guard. “Oh yeah, tell Rosie good luck at her big match this weekend.” You nearly snort. The men share a brief handshake and you and Marcus round the corner, the door to the evidence lockup just ahead.

The two of you share a heated look and Marcus smirks. He swipes his badge and the door unlocks with a small snick. You’re guided inside a dark room that could be the size of a storage closet for all you can see. Marcus flips one of the light switches, and sturdy floor-to-ceiling shelving units are illuminated on either side, hedging you in like a maze. So far, it looks like any other evidence room, except with mood lighting.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” you mutter, and Marcus chuckles. As he leads you along the shelves towards some unknown destination, long shadows from the meager overhead light throw the long rows and corners into darkness.

He takes your hand and explains, “The lighting, temperature, and humidity are all controlled by a central system. Same kind as in the National Gallery.” You nod, genuinely impressed. 

“You don’t keep all your evidence here, right?” The room was large, but most of the shelving space was taken up by various sized crates and archival boxes. Marcus shakes his head.

“Just the very valuable pieces that need to be kept under special conditions. Any other evidence is kept in a regular lockup.” Marcus stops and you come up short, nearly colliding with his broad back. “Oh,” you breathe, peering around him and knowing this is what he wanted to show you.

The maze of shelving units opens up onto what looks like a miniature museum exhibit. Paintings are hung on the walls or staged on easels and covered with drop cloths. Sculptures are on pedestals in glass cases along one wall, and to your right are a few chairs next to an expansive table. 

Marcus approaches the paintings and proceeds to carefully remove the drop cloths from each work of art. They vary in style, color, expression, and movement. Some of them are encased in elaborate frames, while others are plain, or bare. Now this is what you’d hoped for after all these months hearing Marcus speak of this place in near reverent tones. This evidence lockup could rival most well-funded galleries and museums. 

“Are these all forgeries?” You take a step closer to the nearest painting and inspect it – for what, you’re not sure. “Stolen?” 

“A bit of both.” Marcus sidles up behind you. Your voices remain hushed, private, intimate.

Hands casually in his pockets, he takes you on a tour of the evidence on display, telling you a bit about each piece – what made the art valuable enough to forge or steal, and a few particulars about each case. He is in his element here, the picture of quiet confidence. Passion laces his every word and brings a spark to his eyes that you’d only seen a few times before when you were about to crack a case.

You have never felt more attracted to him.

Coming up to the last painting, you cock your head to the side and give it a quizzical stare. It’s abstract, composed of a muted yet warm palette. The paint is blended with no discernable lines or shapes.

“What is it?” you ask, looking up in time to see Marcus’ dimple appear next to his gentle smile. 

“What do you see?” Marcus steps behind you again, and runs the tips of his fingers up and down your arms.

“I… I’m not sure. What am I supposed to see?” The texture of the paint is layered in some spaces, and there’s almost an ethereal glow emanating from its contrast of light and dark. You feel a bit embarrassed and uncultured. Maybe if you squint or let your vision blur, like it’s one of those magic eye puzzles that give you headaches.

“What I love about abstract art is that there’s no right or wrong answer. I hated it until we studied it in school. I always thought I was missing something, and got frustrated that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.” 

You let out a soft hmm of agreement, but are distracted by Marcus’ voice, hot on your ear, lips close enough to graze the sensitive shell. “It was this quote by an artist, Arshile Gorky, that helped me appreciate it more. To paraphrase, abstraction frees the mind and allows it to explore the unknown. Whatever you see is what you’re meant to see.”

You let your mind rest on his words, buzzing from the energy between you. With a smirk, you say, “I bet you got laid a lot in school.” 

Marcus gives a surprised chuckle. “I did alright,” he admits, and you hear the grin in his voice.

Turning to face him, you run your hands up his chest and under the lapels of his jacket to his shoulders. Marcus sighs, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer. That spark in his eye is trained on you now, his pupils blown while they skate over your face under hooded lids. 

“What’s next on the tour?” Your voice comes out a bit hoarse, his gaze almost overwhelming in its intensity. 

Marcus smiles, somewhat mischievously. “Just one more thing. C’mon,” he takes your hand and starts leading you to the large table and chairs. “I think you’re going to like this part.” 

Leaving you at the edge of the table, Marcus goes to one of the nearby shelves and pulls out a large cardboard envelope from a box, nearly the size of one of the paintings. With the flip of a switch, the entire surface of the table illuminates, humming gently from the internal fan. He pulls out what looks to be a sheet of dark plastic film and lays it on top of the table, revealing an x-ray image.

Marcus’ face is like a kid’s on Christmas morning. “This is an x-ray of that painting over here,” he points to the abstract work you’d been standing at a moment before. The x-ray on the table is a ghostly, black-and-white rendering of the muted swaths of paint. “And here,” he lays a second image down on the table, “is another x-ray taken of the same painting at different settings.” 

You nearly gasp. It’s virtually a different image entirely. The abstract painting has been reduced to a haze, overlaying a distinct pastoral landscape. Leaning over the table for a closer look, you feel a pleasantly warm glow on your face from the lit surface. “What the…” Your eyes snap back to Marcus’ face, which is lit up with what you can only describe as glee. 

“So you like it?” His eyes are sparkling and that dimple you love so much has reappeared. “‘Like it?’” You scoff. “I love it, Marcus, this is incredible. But…” you gesture at the images, “What exactly does that mean in terms of evidence?” Marcus comes around to your side of the table.

“The first one is a radiographic image of that painting we looked at, which could have told us if there were any traces of minerals or other elements within the paint used. Modern paint pigments are synthetic,” Marcus pulls the first image closer and gestures to the different shades of gray. “But–” he slides the second image next to the first, with its outlines of rolling hills and fluffy clouds, “Historically, heavy metals were frequently used, like lead and cobalt.” 

Nodding along with the lesson, you put two and two together. “So the heavy metals in old paint would show through on an x-ray, even if somebody has painted over it.” Marcus is beaming at you, clearly happy that you made the connection. 

“Exactly. And then the synthetic paint could be removed later.” Turning to face you, he rests a hip on the edge of the table. The surface light casts dramatic shadows across the contours of his jaw and nose. You mirror his body language and reach out to poke him playfully in the chest. 

“No fair; the FBI gets all the fun toys.” The cool satin of his tie slips deftly between your fingers, and you give it a gentle tug. His gaze is alert and hungry as he takes a step closer, and you can feel your body responding to his proximity once again. Marcus trails a finger across your clavicle that sends a chill down your spine and tingles straight to your nipples. 

“Yeah, but if you ask nicely, maybe I’ll share.” Threading his fingers into the hair at the base of your skull, he pulls gently but purposefully until your head tilts back and you’re forced to meet his eyes. A shuddering breath escapes your parted lips. Marcus leans in and grazes his lips against yours, barely a whisper of a kiss. His tongue traces the sensitive inner edge of your top lip and you nearly let out a whimper.

“Go on, then. Ask me.” He nips at your bottom lip. “Nicely.”

“Please,” you breathe. Marcus’ arm encircles your waist, while the hand in your hair grips a bit tighter. He uses a tight hold on your ass to grind you against the firm thigh he places between your own. Your hands grasp desperately onto his shoulders as your knees feel like they’re about to buckle from the delicious pressure. 

“‘Please’ what?” Marcus prompts gently. You’re pressing back against his thigh now, too lost in the sensation to respond. He withdraws it suddenly and you’re left clenching, all too aware of how badly you need that pressure back. 

“‘Please’ what?” He repeats, more firmly this time. 

“Please, Sir.” You correct yourself quickly, and are rewarded with Marcus’ lips against yours and the blessed return of his thigh. He’s a man possessed, and you whimper into his mouth as his tongue licks inside. The next thing you know, he’s got you sandwiched between the table and his thigh now, your skirt hiked up, juices leaking through your panties as you ride the firm muscles of his leg. 

“Look at you, just beautiful. You’re so hot like this, I love seeing you lose yourself. Does that feel good? Hm?” Marcus presses his hard cock into your hip and groans. “Jesus, I can feel how fucking wet you are through my pants. Are you going to leave your pussy juices on me, so anybody we walk past can see what a good girl you are for me?” 

Your eyes are squeezed shut tight, arms gripping to Marcus for dear life as you continue rutting against him, breath becoming ragged. The friction and pressure are almost too much, you’ll practically give yourself rug burn at this rate. But the onslaught of Marcus’ filthy praise in your ear, his hot, steamy breath against your neck, his tongue on your pulse point – you’re already careening out of control and he knows it.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” Nodding, wordless, you scramble to hold onto him as Marcus scoops up one of your thighs and hooks it over his hip with a grunt. “Then you better ask first.” 

“P-please,” you gasp out, “Please, Sir. Please can I cum?” You’re on the precipice, Marcus’ cock almost painfully hard in your hip. 

You gasp when he pulls his thigh away, eyes flying open in shock. “Not yet, sweet girl, hold on for me just a little bit longer. You’re going to cum on my tongue first.” Before you have a chance to protest, Marcus hoists you up fully onto the edge of the light table and pulls up a chair to feast on you. 

You’re immediately aware of the warmth the lit surface of the table infuses into every part of your body it’s touching. The table itself feels sturdy and solid beneath you, but you can’t fight an initial moment of panic. “Um, Marcus…I don’t know if–” It’s a struggle to concentrate as Marcus noses at your clothed pussy. A gentle double tap to the crown of his head is all the signal he needs to check in.

“You okay? Do you want to stop?” Marcus’ face is flushed, but his eyes are clear and laser focused on you. 

“Is this, uh…safe?” You rap gently on the table with a forced air of nonchalance. 

Marcus smiles and strokes the outside of your hip and thigh with his hand. “Totally safe. I triple-checked the specs and tested it out already.” 

You lift an amused eyebrow at that. “Tested it out?”

Marcus’ eyes go round at the implication, his dominant persona dropped. “Not like that! I mean I stacked a shitload of evidence boxes on it and did a– well, ah– a simulation, I guess you could call it.” His self-effacing chuckle is endearing.  He always knows how to make you feel safe and secure during your more adventurous times together. You smile and stroke his hair as he rubs his cheek against your inner thigh, the rasp of his five o’clock shadow sending shockwaves to your pussy.

“I’m very interested in finding out more about this simulation…Sir.” His honorific on your lips is your signal that you’re ready to continue and his grin turns wolfish. With a playful, smacking kiss to the tender flesh of your inner thigh, Marcus slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Bracing your calves on his broad shoulders, you lift your ass a little to help Marcus slide the panties the rest of the way off. 

“Open up for me, sweetheart.” Gently, he applies pressure to your knees until you’re completely spread out before him. You might be a little embarrassed being on display if you didn’t know how much he loved you like this: open, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy. The expression on Marcus’ face is practically one of reverence. 

“This is exactly why I wanted to bring you here,” Marcus places open-mouthed kisses up your thighs, sucking and nibbling his way to your center. It’s difficult not to squirm, he’s got you feeling antsy and impatient. “I wanted to see you lit up and on exhibit for me, like the work of art you are.”

You must be quite a sight to behold with the bright light of the table shining from beneath you. To drive his point home, Marcus dips his tongue to your core and collects your gathering slick on his tongue, spreading it and his saliva up to your clit in a broad swipe. Riding his thigh earlier has left you swollen and sensitive; your back arches off the table and you gasp at the sudden contact. 

Marcus holds you open with one hand so his tongue can more freely explore the full length of your slit, while the other alternates between massaging your breasts and rolling a peaked nipple through your blouse. Desperate for more, you unbutton your top enough to pull the cups of your bra down and leave yourself exposed to Marcus’ roaming fingers. 

Your whimpers and shuddering breaths combine with the sounds of Marcus lapping at your seeping cunt. His nose bumps against your engorged clit and you gasp, hips spasming. The hand on your breast disappears, and a finger gently nudges your entrance. 

“I’m going to get you ready for my cock, baby. Are you ready?” You nod wordlessly, and Marcus eases a digit inside you, watching your expression. “Oh, pretty girl, you’re so good, so wet. So tight, fuck.” 

Marcus laves his tongue over your clit and you clench around his finger. “Mmm, you’re going to take me so good, aren’t you?” Soon, he adds a second, working it rhythmically in and out, sucking and flicking his tongue against your clit until you’re panting.

The wet noises made by Marcus’ fingers inside you are practically obscene. When he crooks them at just the right spot, you lose all sense and writhe against him. You can hear a question in his inflection, but the twist and pull of his fingers are distracting, to say the least. He’s leaning over you now, the heel of his palm applying pressure over your clit to replace his mouth. 

“You’re doing so well, I know you can do it. You just need to ask me first.” His fingers inside you are relentless, and you can feel the pressure building inside, pulling taut like a rubber band about to snap. Marcus can tell how close you are and stops with his two fingers buried deep inside and applies his other hand to each side of your neck with just enough pressure to get your attention.

“C’mon, sweetheart, focus for me, otherwise I’ll have to stop.” His fingers are barely moving inside of you, just enough to keep you right on the edge. “You know what to do.”

A sob practically escapes your throat. “Please, Sir. I need to cum. Please can I? I want to be good for you.” It’s impossible to keep the pleading from your tone, you’re so close. Your hips are gyrating of their own accord, feebly fucking yourself on his fingers.

Marcus moves his hand off your throat to cup the side of your face and tangle his fingers in your hair. “Mm, do it. Be my good girl and cum.” Marcus leans down for a final taste where you’re stretched around his curling fingers, then settles his lips around your clit. With a cry, you break and see stars behind your eyelids as your orgasm crashes over you.

“Fuck yes, that’s my good girl. So beautiful like this, so perfect. I can feel you dripping into my hand, baby, you’re so wet. Did that feel good? Is that what you needed?” Marcus praises you through it all, stroking your neck, your breasts, peppering kisses over your mound and belly. His fingers retreat, leaving you fluttering in aftershocks, and you watch him lick your cum from his palm and fingers.

“Thank you for being such a good girl for me, sweetheart. I had to taste you at least one more time before you leave...” Reality falls over the room like a weighted blanket, and you let your engaged muscles go slack against the lit surface of the table, suddenly harsh and blinding. You feel exposed instead of exhibited and you squeeze your thighs together as the final flutters of your orgasm subside.

“Hey, come back to me,” you hear Marcus murmur, and feel him turn your face to meet his. He kisses you slowly and deeply, and you taste your tang on his plump bottom lip. He presses his forehead against yours and you share a couple of breaths. 

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Additional Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! There is plenty more to come (had to). I'd love to know what you thought -- any and all feedback is welcome! I just want to become a better writer. :)

Chapter 3 || SeñoraBond's Masterlist

#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #javier peña #marcus pike #javier pena x reader #marcus pike x reader #javier pena fanfiction #marcus pike fanfiction #senorabond writes #rumor has it fic

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

hope. ~ morpheus x reader

summary: you don't expect to run into the lord of dreams in the middle of a rainstorm - and neither of you expect to fall for each other so quickly. II fluff & a little angst

requested: yes

a/n: my first morpheus fic, i hope you'll like it words: 4.1k warnings: none except that the readers name is "hope" in this story

I am a dire wolf. Prey-stalking, lethal hunter.

Hope could never be confined to a single being, a single existence. It was too vast of a concept, too abstract for mortals, too powerful for the ethereal – even for the Endless. And so it broke and its million fragments spread across universes, across worlds, and finally rested inside specimens of every creation.

In the Waking World, Hope – or rather the embodiment of it – had travelled on from one person to another for as long as the human race existed. When Death came to reap that human, a new baby was born with a smile so bright it could break down the highest walls and the most bitter hearts. And it just so happened that this time around, Hope found its place inside of you.

I am a hunter. Horse-mounted, wolf-stabbing.

You met him in the middle of the night – but not in the Dreaming. You were taking a walk, trying to calm yourself after a break up so monumental, you weren’t quite sure yet how you would ever recover from it. It was raining and you didn’t have an umbrella with you but frankly you didn’t care. You walked the streets with your head down, tears streaming down your face, hot and devastating. Music blasted in your eyes, the same music you had already listened to when that boy whose name you didn’t even remember stood you up in middle school. Well, some things stayed the same.

You didn’t hear and didn’t see him. You felt him instead when you ran face first into his chest.

“Shit!”, you cursed as you stumbled back, earplugs flying out of your ears, pulling your phone down with them. It crashed down onto the wet stones. You bent down and reached for them but someone was faster. When you lifted your head, his eyes met yours and for a second, time stopped.

You had never seen such eyes. They looked like you imagined the night sky would look without the pollution and light from the cities. Like an ocean after a storm, like a forgotten lake in a fairytale.

“Hope.”

I am a serpent. Horse-biting, poison-toothed.

His voice was deep and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Then you blinked. You stood up straight, hesitant, unsure if you should get more distance between yourself and him. “How do you know my name?”, you asked. He was a stranger to you, you were certain of that. You would have remembered a man like him – with his black coat and the dark hair, looking at you as if he could stare right into your soul.

He ignored your question. “You are not meant to cry.” And then something else happened – he raised his hand, crossed the distance between you two and … wiped away a tear with his thumb.

And to your surprise it didn’t scare you. Maybe your ex had just fucked so brutally with your head that you considered it okay to be touched in the face by a stranger who stood on a dimly lit street in the rain with no umbrella. But his touch felt … soothing. Like you could trust him. His fingers lingered on your cheek for another moment and suddenly you felt tired. You wanted to rest your head in his hand and close your eyes and … he lowered his arm and the feeling vanished.

What. The. Hell.

Now you definitely took a step back … and another one … and a another one. And before you knew it, you were running in full-speed in the opposite direction. You had listened to too many True Crime Podcasts to be able to stop and talk to a good-looking stranger in the middle of the night during a storm.

At home, you fell asleep as soon as your head touched the pillow. Normally, your nights were almost always dreamless but this time you found yourself in your favorite bookshop. It was empty. Well, almost empty. At the end of the room, leaning against a shelf, looking right at you, stood the stranger.

I am a bird of prey. Snake-devouring, talons-ripping.

The next day was hectic. So hectic that you almost forgot the dream, the stranger and most importantly: the break-up. It was only after you left the hospital and headed to your favorite café for a much needed break when you remembered all of it. Mainly because the café was right in front of the very same bookshop you dreamed of. You felt the familiar sting in your eyes. Tears were near – and all because your ex-boyfriend decided to sleep with his colleague. Asshole.

“May I sit here?” The voice was so familiar, you flinched.

There he was – standing right next to the table, in his long black coat as the autumn sun shone down on him.

“Are you stalking me?”

“Stalking?” He tilted his head, just a little. “I came to return something of yours.” He removed his hand from his pocket and carefully put your phone on the table. Your phone! You had almost forgotten about it.

“Thank you”, you mumbled.

The man remained quiet. He simply stood in front of the table as if he was still waiting for your answer. It was probably a bad idea to invite him to sit with you but … but it was the middle of the afternoon and lots of people were around you. He couldn’t murder you here, right?

God, these podcasts were really starting to get to you.

“Sit, please”, you finally said and he did just that. “How did you find me here? Do I know you?”

“I don’t believe we had the pleasure of meeting in this lifetime.” His voice was low, just like last night. And just like last night, it send shivers down your spine.

Still, you frowned at his words. “In this lifetime? Who talks like that? Isn’t it still a bit early to be drunk?”

A smile tugged on his lips and god, was he beautiful. Yesterday, you barely had the time to take all of him in but now he sat in front of you and you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. You didn’t quite comprehend what it was – there was something about him. It wasn’t his lean body, the perfect face or the messy hair that practically screamed at you to run your fingers through it. It was his aura. The way he carried himself, sat in front of you as if you were the one having an audience with a royal instead of him disturbing you during your break.

“Who made you cry?”, he asked, breaking the silence.

“How do you know it’s a who?”

“Mortals rarely cry like you did unless someone hurt them. Who dared to hurt you?”

Dared. The frown on your face got replaced by a lifted eyebrow. “You talk like you’re from a video game or something.”

No reply.

You sighed. “My boyfriend was the reason. Well, ex-boyfriend.” You paused. “He cheated on me.”

“I’m sorry.” Two simple words but for some reason you knew deep inside of you that he truly meant them. “You must have strong feelings for him.”

“I …” What was there to say? That for the first time you believed you actually had a future with a man? It was pathetic. There it was again – the sting in your eyes, the numb feeling in your stomach. You blinked, chasing away the oncoming tears. Not now, you thought. Later, in bed, maybe in a nightmare where no one could see you. “You didn’t answer my question. How did you know where to find me?”

The man leaned back, watching you. You could swear that in this light, the blue of his eyes seemed even more intense. “From your dreams.” He nodded towards the other side of the street where the small bookshop was.

You shifted in your chair. What? This didn’t make any sense. He didn’t make any sense. “Who are you?”

Now it was him who hesitated. “Morpheus,” he said then as if he was unsure of what his name truly was. “Call me Morpheus.”

I am a butcher bacterium. Warm-life destroying.

On that day, Morpheus sat with you for almost an hour. He seemed interested in you, asking you all sorts of questions about your life while dodging all those you directed at him. He seemed to be fascinated by the fact that you worked as a therapist, wanted to hear all about your reasonings for why you chose this job.

“I don’t know”, you had said and shrugged. “I guess, I always liked helping people with their problems. Showing them ways, reasons, to go on.”

He had mumbled something along the lines of this making perfect sense for this century. Ironically, nothing he said made any sense. Nothing helped you understand him more … and yet you didn’t mind.

You kept meeting in that café after work. Almost every day for weeks, you sat together and talked. Well, mostly you talked. He was more of a listener. He watched you, the spark of curiosity never leaving his eyes. Soon, you started to look forward to these meetings. Even sooner, your ex-boyfriend was forgotten. Instead you kept thinking about a certain man with the bluest eyes and the most gorgeous smile – even though he seldom showed it. In fact, you thought about him so much that he even started appearing in your dreams more and more.

You were falling for him, you realized one morning when you woke up, your heart still fluttering. You were falling for someone and still practically knew nothing about him.

I am a world. Space-floating, life-nurturing.

The leaves on the trees had changed colors and fallen to the ground. The nights grew longer, the days shorter, the temperature dropped and soon snow began to fall while the people put up their fairy lights and Christmas decorations.

After your meeting, Morpheus had offered to bring you home. This was a first. Together, you walked through the snow in comfortable silence and while you wore a warm scarf wrapped around your neck and gloves to protect your skin from the freezing cold, he seemed perfectly comfortable in the same coat he always wore. The snow landing softly on his shoulders stood in sharp contrast to the black fabric. You watched him from the corner of your eyes and saw how snowflakes tangled in his hair. Suddenly, you had to resist the urge to lift your hand and reach for his hair, for the snowflakes within it.

“What is on your mind, Hope?”

You still weren’t used to how your name rolled off his tongue.

You cleared your throat. “Nothing.”

He smiled – softly, barely visible, the way he always smiled as if he was scared to do so. “You are a terrible liar.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you quickly avert your gaze. For the past two weeks you had been meaning to ask him out. Not on another coffee date but a real date. But then again, does someone like Morpheus even go on dates? And shouldn’t you at least get to know his last name before you asked him?

“Tell me”, he said and this time, it sounded more like a demand. A lightly amused demand.

You stopped dead in your tracks at his words. He turned to you, curious again. Curious like he always was when it came to you. Now or never.

“Hope?” The demand was gone, left was a question.

“It’s not necessarily something I want to say”, you begin and take a step towards him. You raised your head to still be able to look him in the eyes. The two of you had never been this close to one another. It was electrifying. The feeling you always had in his presence began to creep up. Something about him felt … ancient. Terrifying. And yet, it didn’t stop you.

Morpheus watched you, every twitch of your muscles, every change in your expression, unmoving, hands still buried in his pockets. Now or never. You had to. Before he was able to say anything, you leaned forward ever so slight and … pressed your lips to his.

His lips were soft, just like you had imagined. They were soft and warm and after a second, they began to move against yours. Careful at first, cautious, a little bit confused, but with every passing second the kiss changed and suddenly you felt his hands on your hips. They burned through the fabric of your coat as he pulled you close against his own body. Electricity shot through your veins, through every cell of your being. Forgotten was the cold, the nervousness. You drowned in his kiss, in the way his lips claimed yours, demanding, wanting, needing.

When he let go of you, an eternity could have passed and you wouldn’t have noticed. Out of breath you stared at each other, his eyes an even darker shade of blue.

“I …”, he began but stopped. Morpheus was speechless? Well, that was another first today.

“Sorry, I had to do this first. Before I ask you on a date, y’know.” The words came out quickly.

“Date”, he repeated and blinked as if he had to process that word first. Your stomach plummeted to your feet. Shit. Did he not want to? After that kiss?

“I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to, obviously, I just … we’ve seen each other so much lately I thought … I don’t know …”

He watched you stumble over your own words but this time there was no smile tugging on the corners of his lips. He was serious. More serious than usual. This couldn’t mean anything good, could it?

“Hope, there is something you need to know.”

I am a nova. All-exploding, planet-cremating.

You didn’t believe him at first. You were convinced, he was making fun of you but when the smile never came that would have told you it was all a joke, you believed that simply managed to fall for a mad man. Not a word Morpheus said made sense until he turned up in your dreams again and told you the same story. And then you woke up and he stood sat in the chair across the room.

Truth be told, you almost called the cops.

But after that, something changed. You eventually did believe him. He slowly began to talk. Dream was apparently one of his other names. Dream of the Endless. King of Dreams and Nightmares. God, this sounded insane. Yet he showed you it wasn’t. He took you to the Dreaming and showed you his palace. And in the Waking World, he even introduced you to Matthew – a crow. A talking crow.

And here you thought, you had simply met a nice men after the terrible end of the relationship. But no, you had to meet a god instead. Or something more than a god as he liked to remind you.

It took you a few weeks to adjust to this world. Morpheus gave you the space you needed and you were thankful for that. And then, finally, you grew closer again. But no kiss was shared, no date happened. Obviously – you didn’t think that a King even dated. And honestly, you were a little too intimated to ask again.

Something that never left your mind however, was why someone like him was interested in someone like you. A human. Not even a very special one, just a normal one. You asked him that once and he replied with one of his beautiful smiles and left you none the wiser.

I am a universe. All things encompassing, all life embracing.

Once every thousand years, Morpheus would meet someone who fundamentally made him … feel. Contrary to popular belief, he cared deeply about humanity and held a great interest in them. But sometimes he’d meet a human that especially sparked his interest.

Lucienne had once asked him how he chose those humans. He had been short of an answer. If he could truly choose them, would he have chosen a random crying woman who bumped into him on a street? Probably not.

Yes, he admitted that you weren’t just any random woman. You were the embodiment of hope and at first he simply wanted to see what hope would manifest as in these times. But something about you kept forcing him to come back to you. In the Dreaming, in the Waking World. He wanted to be around you. Maybe it was the fragment of hope sewn into your soul, Morpheus didn’t know. But when you mumbled to yourself in one of your dreams that you started to fall, he began to tumble. And when you pressed your lips to his, he fell too. Hard.

It annoyed him when you didn’t believe him at first but he had learned from previous mistakes and gave you time and space. Yet, every night when you visited him in the Dreaming it physically hurt him not to be able to pull you into his arms.

You did not understand why Morpheus chose to be around you. Why he found such interest in your mundane life. Morpheus was once again short of an answer when you asked that very question one night.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you, Dream Lord?”, you asked him when he remained silent.

Both you were resting against a blossoming apple tree in Fiddler’s Green. You had turned his face to him and were so close that he could smell you. It was intoxicating. Morpheus smiled at you. Something he had done a lot more often in recent times.

“I have another question”, you continued.

“Anything”, Morpheus replied and also turned his head. Only inches separated his lips from yours.

You swallowed and Morpheus wondered if you felt the same in this very moment. Then you began to speak again. “When we met … you said I wasn’t meant to cry. What did you mean by that?”

His eyes travelled up from your lips to your eyes. He was certain he had never seen a mortal with such beautiful eyes before.

He had hoped that you had forgotten this moment already. You weren’t meant to cry. Hope didn’t cry. Couldn’t. But you weren’t just hope as hope was just a fragment within you. It took him a while to answer, to find the right words.

In the end, he didn’t tell you what you were. It was not meant for you to know. But to him, it still felt like a lie. And while the King of Nightmares, in his thousands of years of existence, was no stranger to lies, he hated the feeling that began to form in his stomach while his mouth formed words that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

I am anti-life. The beast of judgement. The dark at the end of everything.

“Hope.”

He didn’t raise his voice but it still overpowered the traffic noise and rang deep inside of you. Morpheus stood a few feet apart on the sidewalk. It was late and cold and the snow fell down on you relentlessly. You needed to get home, to prepare for a New Year’s Eve dinner with your friends. You didn’t have time for him – and you were still too mad.

“You stood me up.” Your voice cut through the silence between you, colder than the wind pressing against your own coat. Something flickered in his eyes. Hurt? He came closer, slowly.

“For a whole week you stood me up. In the Dreaming, in our café.” Our café. As if you could share anything with one of the Endless.

“Do you not believe that I have more responsibilities than drinking … coffee with you?”

Outch. You lowered your gaze not wanting to show him that his words hurt. Of course he had other responsibilities. You were confused as to why he kept you around so long anyways. “You could have told me, y’know”, you mumbled, unsure if he heard you. “I understand if you’re finally tired of me but … a word would have been nice.”

He stopped, directly in front of you. “Tired of you?”, he asked, his voice soft.

You nodded.

“That is so far from the truth”, he continued. “I don’t think I will ever grow weary of you.”

His words made you look up and when you met his gaze, you drew in a sharp breath of air. He was close, so close, there was only him left in this world. The night sky looked down on you, a mere mortal, with more love and affection than this universe held. It took you by surprise and with so much force that your knees weakened.

“Then why didn’t you come?”, you whispered.

He leaned in. “Because I am no longer able to be around you without … without doing this.”

His lips on your yours were merely a brush, a fleeting moment of worlds colliding. The Dreaming and the Waking. Nightmares and Hope. When you parted, his eyes darkened. You reached for his collar and pulled him down again, desperate to taste more.

Weeks had passed since that very first kiss. Weeks in which you weren’t sure of Morpheus intentions. Of his thoughts. You thought you had overstepped as he gave no sign that your advances were wanted. All these thoughts died the moment, he wrapped his arms around and pulled you close.

Forgotten was the cold, the snow, the dinner, the doubt.

I …

You laughed when Matthew finished his joke. It was loud and free, head thrown back, and Lucienne and the raven joined in your laughter. The three of you sat in the library of the Dream Lords palace, flicking through books, sharing anecdotes and stories. After your second kiss, Morpheus began to introduce you to more and more of his palace staff and you enjoyed being around them when he was called to work.

“We have a visitor”, Lucienne suddenly changed the topic.

“It seems our boss has returned”, Matthew cawed and pointed with his beak towards the end of the hall. Morpheus stood there, seemingly ingulfed reading the backs of books, but you could tell he had listened in on your conversation. The smile betrayed him. A warm feeling spread inside of you.

“He changed, don’t you – caw – think, Lucienne?”, Matthew asked the librarian. “I don’t think I’ve seen him smile so much.”

The three of you watched the King of this realm tilting his head into your direction. “Well, I always hoped this would eventually happen”, Lucienne admitted. “Hoped …” Her gaze traveled to you.

You shrugged. “How fitting that my name is Hope.”

“Yes, how fitting.”

I am …

“Do you hate me now?”, your question was filled with so much fear, it pained the Dream Lord. You knew of Nada, knew what happened the last time someone rejected him. But what pained him even more was that you believed he could ever hurt you.

You sat across from him in your small apartment on your even smaller couch, legs pulled up against your chest as you nervously watched him.

“Never”, he whispered, eyes fixated on the ticking clock on the wall. “I simply do not understand.”

You didn’t either. When Morpheus came tonight, he had offered you everything. A realm, a king, every dream come true. And still, you said no. You couldn’t leave this world, your family, your friends, your patients. No matter how great the love for him was, no matter how devastating the decision felt, you knew you weren’t meant for this. It wasn’t your purpose.

“I am so sorry, Morpheus …”

His hand twitched when you whispered his name.

“I wish I could but-”

“You can.” The clock ticked on and Morpheus followed the movement of its hands. “I am offering you everything.”

“And I have to decline.” It hurt. It hurt so much. “I can not, Morpheus. I … please, understand. I can’t leave.”

He understood. He knew this day would come. You weren’t a normal human being. Like him, you had a purpose and responsibilities and it didn’t matter if you knew about them or not.

You leaned forward, onto your knees and reached for his hand. You rested your forehead against his head, felt him lean into you, and the fear faded that he would take this rejection badly. In your heart, you didn’t believe he would ever hurt you. But he was an Endless and you didn’t understand them yet. You probably never would.

Morpheus closed his eyes as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you onto his lap.

“We’ll still have a lifetime together. Here and in the Dreaming”, you offered weakly.

“As if that could ever be enough.”

… hope.

thank you for reading <3 if you want to be tagged in future stories, feel free to send me a message!

#dream x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman x reader

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

high infidelity | one

Do you really wanna know where I was April 29th? Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes? April 29th 2022 (a/n yes I know some of these dates don’t actually add up, it’s just for story purposes!) Elliots POV Nursing really wasn’t for the faint of heart, which makes me wonder why I do it. Part of me knows it’s cause I’m a pathological people pleaser and like all the pats on the back I get. On the other hand I did land myself a great position in the NICU and helping babies get healthy and go home was such a rewarding feeling. I worked twelve hour night shifts but they went by pretty fast. It was about 6:45am and I was wrapping up some charting as my phone buzzed beside me. It was my best friend Danielle. “Hey boo! Don’t forget we got tickets for Bad Omens tonight!”

Shit, I totally forgot. I sighed deeply, catching stares from some of the parents visiting their babies. I hated texting Tyler about anything because he acted like everything was fine but sadly, I had to play the part too.   “Hey I totally spaced and forgot I’m going to a concert with Danielle tonight. My dad is going come over to help with Liam’s dinner and bedtime until you get home.” “Okay :) See you when you get home!” I rolled my eyes so hard they almost got stuck. My shift was over so I handed off report to the nurses coming on shift and headed towards my car. I lifted my mask off as the fresh air hit my face, waking me up a little bit. I took my phone out of my scrub pocket and texted Danielle back. “I can’t wait…I need a girls night.” “Come to the venue at 5 so we can have some drinks and sneak front row.” Danielle worked at the venue where Bad Omens would be playing, which worked in our favour. She always got us free tickets to every event and snuck us in early to get a good spot.  I discovered Bad Omens around the same time I met Tyler. I heard Careful What You Wish For on the radio and I was hooked. During the pandemic, I found myself watching all of Noah’s twitch streams every single day. It was his way of staying connected to the fans and to fill the void of uncertainty of this virus. Something about his voice was so soothing, seriously, he could do audiobooks or podcasts if this singing thing doesn’t work out. When I got home, Tyler was on his phone typing away, probably to whatever her name was. Marissa? Miranda? I don’t know or fucking care enough to remember. He got up from the table and tried to kiss me but I turned my head and lied about having a cold sore forming. He went to make me coffee and I suddenly felt nauseous. Every time he tried to do something nice for me my blood would boil. He wasn’t doing this because he loved me, he did it to keep his image. I took the coffee from him and turned away from his sad attempt to kiss me again. “You never want any affection from me anymore, what is going on?” Oh if only you knew. “Tyler, I spend all fucking night with babies on me and being overstimulated by people. I just want an hour where I’m not touched or talked to.” “Right.” “Sorry.” I lied, rolling my eyes. I started to walk towards the stairs so I could go up and shower but he stopped me dead in my tracks. “You know tonight will be the third time you’ve gone out with your friends this month.” He shot me at me. That was the one thing I fucking loathed about him. He was really, really good at being a dick about absolutely anything. I never bothered replying to him, I just headed to my master bathroom and turned on the shower. The water felt so good as I washed off last nights shift, which was a mixture of formula and spit up. After my shower I took my coffee into my bedroom and settled on a rerun of Friends while I waited for Liam to wake up. I heard Tyler leave and I felt like I could breathe properly. 

A few hours later there was a knock on the door. Liam and I were having a nap on the couch after we had lunch. It started to rain earlier so it ruined our plans to go to the park, instead we settled on Disney movies and snuggles. His nap time was the only time I got to sleep during the day unfortunately unless he was at daycare. I slipped out of his grip to go answer the door, it was my Dad. He greeted me with a hug and we walked into the kitchen. I threw on some coffee for us as a yawn escaped my mouth. “Thanks again for staying here until Tyler gets home.” “Anything for you pumpkin.” He replies as he grabs the creamer out of the fridge for us. “Is everything okay? You seem a little down lately.” “Uh…yeah there is something.” I said before taking a deep breath. “Tyler’s been having an affair. I haven’t told him I know, I’ve been getting everything in order with my lawyer before I serve him the papers.” “When did you find out?” “A month ago.” I laughed. I don’t know why I was laughing, but somedays this situation felt comical to me. “I’ve only told Danielle because her mom is a lawyer.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I was afraid you would’ve shown up here with a shot gun.” I chuckled before taking a sip of my coffee. He half smiled but I could tell he was really upset. “Dad I’m fine. I’m going to figure this out.” “I know. Just talk to me sooner next time okay? Now that your mom is gone you and Liam are all I have.” “I miss her so much.” I said as I felt that all too familiar lump in my throat anytime I thought about my mom. We sadly lost her to Covid after she came home from a girls trip in Mexico, right around the time the pandemic hit so we didn’t know the severity of it. It hit her so fast, causing her to go into cardiac arrest and passing hours later. I had days where guilt hit me hard since she was admitted to the hospital I worked at. I wasn’t allowed to care for her cause looking after family is considered a conflict of interest. It’s been so difficult without her, but it has made my bond with my Dad a lot stronger. We talked and finished our coffees before Liam ran into the kitchen after his nap. He was only fifteen months old and could already outrun us all. I picked him up and showered him with kisses before I headed upstairs to get ready for tonight. I opened a raspberry White Claw as I put Taylor Swift’s Reputation album on shuffle, it was my favourite album by her and it was my go to while I got ready. I settled on a pair of faux leather leggings, a low-cut bodysuit to show off my sternum tattoo, and black Doc Martens. I was still learning to love my postpartum body but I had to admit, the new hourglass shape I had was starting to grow on me. 

My phone buzzed that my Uber was outside and it caused my heart to flutter. Something about the idea of finally seeing these boys in real life was making me nervous, and I had no idea why. I never put them on a pedestal or thought they were gods but it’s gonna be surreal after only seeing them behind a screen. I said goodbye to my dad and Liam before heading out the door. I was so happy it was almost May, the weather was mild enough that I didn’t need a jacket anymore. “There she is!” I smiled as I walked up to Danielle who was with our other two friends, Amy and Taylor. They complimented my look and it gave me the confidence boost I desperately needed. Danielle walked up to the bar when we got in and got us a round of double gin and tonics which was just what I needed. My nerves were getting the best of me and I really needed to loosen up a little bit. After a few more drinks we headed to the barricade and waited for the concert to start. 

“So El, are you excited to see Noah?” I furrowed my brow and looked at Taylor, “Uhh…I’m excited to see the whole band.” “Obviously, but you’re obsessed with Noah. You’ve been practically drooling over him since he was streaming.” “I have not.” At this point I was blushing so hard and I couldn’t blame it on the drinks we had. I mean, she wasn’t wrong. His long hair would make me fold every time I saw him and don’t get me started on the buns he used to do where strands of his hair would perfectly fall around his face…or when he used claw clips or… Make them Suffer came onto the stage and interrupted my thoughts that were going south. The girls and I thrashed around to their setlist and right after that A Thousand Below came on followed by Dayseeker. I cried a little bit during Without me then went back to dancing and even caught a guitar pick. I was feeling better than I have in months, I felt so carefree, happy and not thinking about what my home life was like. I wish I could feel like this every night.

The lights went dark and I froze. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as Folio walked towards his drum set and started to play to the beat of Concrete Jungle. I had tried my best to stay off TikTok to avoid spoilers but I knew Noah came out next before the rest of the band. Before I could process what was going on, he was right in front of me. He stood there all dressed in black, his leathered hand wrapped about the mic stand and he started to sing. Holy fuck. I couldn’t take my eyes off him throughout the entire show. He was captivating as he had the crowd in the palm of his hands. His voice sounded better than I could’ve imagined, he had the voice of an angel and the screams of a demon. I don’t know if I was being delusional, but I’m sure we made eye contact a few times. He sat down at the edge of the stage and serenaded the crowd with who are you? and he was right in front of us. He was so close I could see clusters of freckles on his shoulders peeking through his tattoos. When our eyes connected again I waved at him to embarrass him and it totally worked cause he fumbled his next line. He got up and walked towards the other side of the stage, not before turning back around to look at me again…he was completely flustered. “What was that?” Danielle screamed at me as the girls just stood there in disbelief. I just shrugged at them before putting my attention back on the band. The show came to an end, not before Noah and I stole more glances at each other. I tried to gain my composure, but I couldn’t. I cannot believe I just flirted with Noah Sebastian. Also the show? Fucking best concert I’ve ever been to, so good that my throat was hoarse and I’m pretty sure my toes were bleeding. “Hey guys before we go, I just need to go to my office to grab my purse. I can’t stress this enough though, no looking for the band okay?” As much as I wanted to find Noah, we nodded our heads in agreement before heading back there. I was not about to get my best friend fired from her dream job cause I wanted to flirt with some boy in a band. I really needed to pee though after holding it for almost three hours so I went on a mission to find a bathroom. I circled for a few minutes before finding a women’s bathroom. As I walked in the toilet flushed and the stall door opened. It was Noah. He put his hands up in protest as he flushed pink, “I promise I’m not a woman.” I forced an awkward laugh as I looked him up and down. He already looked like he showered and changed. The scent of his cologne lingered over to me and I could feel my face burning. He walked over to the sink to wash his hands so I took the opportunity to admire his tall stature. He was wearing black skinny jeans with a grey Chief hoodie and white Nikes. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tattoos were exposed. My face was getting hotter the longer I watched him…I felt like a victorian man seeing a women’s ankles for the first time.

Also…Chief? One of my favourite bands? What are doing to me Noah? “Nice hoodie.” Noah smiled at the ground before looking back up to me. His eyes were so dark you could hardly see his pupils. They were the kind of eyes you could get lost in…and I definitely was. “Sorry I’ll give you some privacy.” He said gesturing towards the bathroom stall. I smiled at him as he walked past me towards the door. Noah stopped as he opened the door to turn back to me, “oh by the way, thanks for making me fuck up tonight.” “I did no such thing!” I audibly gasped. Noah shut the door and walked back over to me, “you definitely did.” “I was testing a theory that you were eye fucking me through the whole show.” I said as I crossed my arms, trying to make myself look taller but I was failing miserably. “Well, how was my eye fucking?” He replied with a deeper tone to his voice. He crossed his arms as well and got closer to me, close enough that he towered over my 5 foot frame with no problem. I was completely lost for words on account that my bladder was about to burst. “I have to pee.” “Ok fine, I’ll go.” He said, looking down at me as he grinned like a devil, “this isn’t over.”

#bad omens #noah sebastian #fanfic

[lannistertwinz]

"You loved me then what right had you to leave me?" - the parallels between Jaime/Cersei and Wuthering Heights

"There's a dialogue that goes on through the years and over the centuries where you read someone else's work and you're inspired by it, sometimes infuriated by it, and you say 'No, that's not quite right, here's the way it would be' and then you write your own twist on it, your own answer to it! There is this conscious playing with tropes, replying to other authors and making a reference or an homage in some cases… but there's also unconsciousness. Those are are rife, sometimes you read a book and you haven't looked at it for twenty years, but it's still there buried inside and suddenly someone points out 'this seems just like this' and you go 'Oh my god! It's right, I forgot about that!'. So it works both ways." - George R.R. Martin, Trinity College Dublin

“The first books I read besides comic books were cheap paperbacks which cost 35 cents back then. There were no bookstores in Bayonne so I got my paperbacks from a spinner rack and all the books in that were mixed up. There were science fiction books and fantasy books, which I liked, but there were also mystery novels, romance novels, nurse novels, gothics, spy novels and, of course, there were classics of literature mixed in with that: Shakespeare, Dostoiévski, the Brontë sisters, Jane Austen, etc.” – George R.R. Martin, Gamer’s Haven Podcast

As pointed out above, George has (whether conscious or unconsciously) taken inspiration from other works to create his own characters, and with this post I’d like to explain as to why I believe A Song Of Ice And Fire specifically plays with Heathcliff and Catherine’s relationship from Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights through Jaime and Cersei’s dynamic.

To briefly explain it to those who have not read it, Wuthering Heights is essentially the story of Heathcliff’s revenge on the Earnshaws and the Lintons for the discrimination suffered at their hands and their involvement in his estrangement from his friend and lover Catherine Earnshaw (aka Cathy) and, at it’s core, it is a novel about intergenerational abuse and family dysfunction.

Shaped by these circumstances, we have at the forefront of the book the toxic romance between the foster siblings Heathcliff and Catherine who, like Jaime and Cersei, develop a very intimate bond early on in their childhood:

She was much too fond of Heathcliff. The greatest punishment we could invent for her was to keep her separate from him. – Nelly, Chapter V He could never bear to be long apart from his twin. – Jaime, ASOS

‘I was a child; my father was just buried, and my misery arose from the separation that Hindley had ordered between me and Heathcliff. I was laid alone, for the first time; and, rousing from a dismal doze after a night of weeping, I lifted my hand to push the panels aside: it struck the tabletop!’ – Catherine, Chapter XII Though Cersei often slept alone, she had never liked it. Her oldest memories were of sharing a bed with Jaime, when they had still been so young that no one could tell the two of them apart. Later, after they were separated, she'd had a string of bedmaids and companions, most of them girls of an age with her, the daughters of her father's household knights and bannermen. – Cersei, AFFC

We made ourselves as snug as our means allowed in the arch of the dresser. I had just fastened our pinafores together, and hung them up for a curtain, when in comes Joseph, on an errand from the stables. He tears down my handiwork, boxes my ears, and croaks. – Catherine, Chapter III "Sometimes as a lark we would dress in each other's clothes and spend a whole day each as the other." – Cersei, ACOK

I took my dingy volume by the scroop, and hurled it into the dogkennel, vowing I hated a good book. Heathcliff kicked his to the same place. – Catherine, Chapter III The dank and dismal fortnight Cersei spent at Greenstone, the seat of House Estermont, was the longest of her young life. Jaime dubbed the castle "Greenshit" at first sight, and soon had Cersei doing it too. – Cersei, AFFC

Miss Cathy had been sick, and that made her still; she leant against her father’s knee, and Heathcliff was lying on the floor with his head in her lap. – Nelly, Chapter V "Care for a bath, Brienne?" He laughed. "You're a maiden and there's the pool. I'll wash your back." He used to scrub Cersei's back, when they were children together at Casterly Rock. – Jaime, ASOS

Additionally, in both cases, the female characters have, from early on, a clear influence over their male counterparts:

His peevish reproofs wakened in her a naughty delight to provoke him: she was never so happy as when we were all scolding her at once, and she defying us with her bold, saucy look, and her ready words; turning Joseph’s religious curses into ridicule, baiting me, and doing just what her father hated most showing how her pretended insolence, which he thought real, had more power over Heathcliff than his kindness: how the boy would do her bidding in anything, and his only when it suited his own inclination. – Nelly, Chapter V “Father will never consent,” Jaime objected. […] “Is it a rock you want? Or me?” He remembered that night as if it were yesterday. […] By morning Casterly Rock seemed a small price to pay to be near her always. He gave his consent, and Cersei promised to do the rest. – Jaime, ASOS

‘He’s considering he’d rather I’d come to him! Find a way, then! not through that kirkyard. You are slow! Be content, you always followed me!’ – Catherine, Chapter XII She rose, her eyes brimming with tears. “Is it truly you?” She did not come to him, however. She has never come to me, he thought. She has always waited, letting me come to her. – Jaime, ASOS

And there’s an element of adoration as well. In Wuthering Heights, at the end of Heathcliff’s life, Nelly refers to Catherine as his “departed idol” and Heathcliff describes Cathy as “so immeasurably superior to everybody on earth”. On the other hand, in A Song Of Ice And Fire, Jaime puts Cersei on a pedestal as the figure of “The Maiden” and describes Cersei’s flame in his weirwood dream as “the only light in the world”. Furthermore, the two claim to have suffered through hardships solely for the sake of these women and that their love is the ultimate factor that drives them:

‘I’ve fought through a bitter life since I last heard your voice; and you must forgive me, for I struggled only for you!’ – Heathcliff, Chapter X When morning came, he made himself eat. They fed him a mush of oats, horse food, but he forced down every spoon. He ate again at evenfall, and the next day. Live, he told himself harshly, live for Cersei. – Jaime, ASOS

‘Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!’ – Heathcliff, Chapter XVI Beside Lord Tywin stood his sister, pale and beautiful, a torch burning in her hand. Her torch was the only light in the cavern. She turned to go. “Stay with me,” Jaime pleaded. “Don't leave me here alone. Don't leave me in the dark!” – Jaime, ASOS

However, the most striking similarities arise from the way that Catherine and Cersei perceive their relationships with Heathcliff and Jaime respectively. Catherine, though far from being the worst person out of the cast of characters present in the novel (certainly Hindley and Joseph and even Heathcliff himself are more morally reprehensible), is the one that possesses the most traits stereotypically ascribed to narcissism: she’s very duplicitous and self-absorbed, she has a completely delusional opinion of herself and consistently projects her own flaws onto others, she’s often contemptuous of the weaknesses of those around her, she has a very explosive temper and reacts with aggression when crossed, she flips situations on their head to make herself look like the victim and she certainly sees her relationships as transactional, including her relationship with Heathcliff:

‘And should I always be sitting with you? What good do I get? What do you talk about? You might be dumb, or a baby, for anything you say to amuse me, or for anything you do, either!’ – Catherine, Chapter VIII

It is also frequently mentioned that Catherine enjoys being in control and does not take well to being contradicted:

It was nothing less than murder in her eyes for anyone to presume to stand up and contradict her. – Nelly, Chapter IX Cersei is as gentle as King Maegor, as selfless as Aegon the Unworthy, as wise as Mad Aerys. She never forgets a slight, real or imagined. She takes caution for cowardice and dissent for defiance. – Tyrion, ADWD

I observed that Mr. Edgar had a deep-rooted fear of ruffling her humour. He concealed it from her; but if ever he heard me answer sharply, or saw any other servant grow cloudy at some imperious order of hers, he would show his trouble by a frown of displeasure that never darkened on his own account. He many a time spoke sternly to me about my pertness; and averred that the stab of a knife could not inflict a worse pang than he suffered at seeing his lady vexed. Not to grieve a kind master, I learned to be less touchy; and, for the space of half a year, the gunpowder lay as harmless as sand, because no fire came near to explode it. – Nelly, Chapter X His sister liked to think of herself as Lord Tywin with teats, but she was wrong. Their father had been as relentless and implacable as a glacier, where Cersei was all wildfire, especially when thwarted. – Jaime, AFFC

And this leads to a point of contention when Heathcliff returns a changed man from his time away:

‘Don’t vex me. Why have you disregarded my request?’ – Catherine, Chapter XI Why does he insist on vexing me? – Cersei, AFFC

‘Oh, you see, Nelly, he would not relent a moment to keep me out of the grave. That is how I’m loved!’ – Catherine, Chapter XV “You swore that you would always love me. It is not loving to make me beg.” – Cersei, AFFC

All of this, combined with the particular way in which Catherine describes her feelings for Heathcliff, led critics of the book to accuse Catherine of perceiving and thus loving Heathcliff as an extension of herself. And, surely, most of these things she privately confesses to Nelly could have easily come out of Cersei’s mouth, who has been confirmed by the author to being written as highly narcissistic.

In chapter IX, Catherine says that her love for Heathcliff is a necessity and throughout the series Cersei’s sentiments for Jaime are frequently displayed through that same lens:

The wench had the right of it. He could not die. Cersei was waiting for him. She would have need of him. – Jaime, ASOS They rode hard the next day, at Jaime's insistence. His son was dead, and his sister needed him. – Jaime, ASOS “Jaime, you're my shining knight. You cannot abandon me when I need you most!” – Cersei, ASOS “I need you with me. In me. Please, Jaime. Please.” – Cersei, AFFC “Why would Cersei need the Warrior? She has me.” – Jaime, AFFC She licked her lips, shivering. “Come at once. Help me. Save me. I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once.” – Cersei, AFFC Jaime, I need Jaime. – Cersei, ADWD

Of course, in Cersei’s case, she “needs” Jaime because he is, in her mind, the brawn to her brain (“He was meant to be my sword and shield, my strong right arm.”), her protector, her agency in a patriarchal society… but she also needs him because she does not feel like a self-realized autonomous human being without him as she believes her own personhood has been split into two entities. And the same goes for Catherine:

‘I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is or should be an existence of yours beyond you. What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here?’ – Catherine, Chapter IX “Jaime and I are more than brother and sister. We are one person in two bodies.” – Cersei, AGOT

‘Supposing at twelve years old I had been wrenched from the Heights, and every early association, and my all in all, as Heathcliff was at that time, and been converted at a stroke into Mrs. Linton, the lady of Thrushcross Grange, and the wife of a stranger: an exile, and outcast, thenceforth, from what had been my world. You may fancy a glimpse of the abyss where I grovelled!’ – Catherine, Chapter XII “I was lost without you, Jaime. I was afraid the Starks would send me your head. I could not have borne that. I am not whole without you.” – Cersei, ASOS

In fact, both women go as far as claiming their partners’ identities as their own:

‘Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.’ – Catherine, Chapter IX “You are me, I am you.” – Cersei, AFFC ‘It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he’s handsome, Nelly, but because he’s more myself than I am.’ – Catherine, Chapter IX

And from this idea of a shared existence and a lack of purpose when apart comes the desire for union in death and the mythologizing of these relationships:

‘If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it.’ – Catherine, Chapter IX “If he were dead, I would know it. We came into this world together, Uncle. He would not go without me.” – Cersei, ADWD ‘She’s dead! I’ve not waited for you to learn that’. – Heathcliff, Chapter XVI

‘We’ve braved its ghosts often together, and dared each other to stand among the graves and ask them to come. But, Heathcliff, if I dare you now, will you venture? If you do, I’ll keep you. I’ll not lie there by myself: they may bury me twelve feet deep, and throw the church down over me, but I won’t rest till you are with me. I never will!’ – Catherine, Chapter XII I cannot die while Cersei lives, he told himself. We will die together as we were born together. – Jaime, ASOS ‘I wish they may shovel in the earth over us both!’ – Heathcliff, Chapter XXIX

What’s interesting about Wuthering Heights, though, is that, other than codependency, there is an inherent selfishness and possessiveness to this. In chapter XV, when Catherine is effectively dying, it is clear that she does not want Heathcliff to outlive her and she’s terrified by the idea of him moving on and finding happiness elsewhere:

‘How strong you are! How many years do you mean to live after I am gone?’ – Catherine, Chapter XV “Will you forget me? Will you be happy when I am in the earth? Will you say twenty years hence, ‘That’s the grave of Catherine Earnshaw? I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is past. I’ve loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and, at death, I shall not rejoice that I are going to her: I shall be sorry that I must leave them!’ Will you say so, Heathcliff?” – Catherine, Chapter XV

Indeed, Catherine goes as far as telling Heathcliff that she wishes he would just die (and suffer) alongside her:

‘I wish I could hold you till we were both dead! I shouldn’t care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings. Why shouldn’t you suffer? I do!’ – Catherine, Chapter XV ‘I’m not wishing you greater torment than I have, Heathcliff. I only wish us never to be parted.’ – Catherine, Chapter XV

And Cersei does something comparable when she (in her delusion) asks Jaime to be her champion in a mortal combat knowing he is likely to lose for his handicap:

“My queen,” said Qyburn, “have you . . . forgotten? Ser Jaime has no sword hand. If he should champion you and lose . . .” We will leave this world together, as we once came into it. “He will not lose. Not Jaime. Not with my life at stake.” – Cersei, AFFC

Heathcliff and Catherine don’t die together, however, and, despite what happened in Game Of Thrones, I’m still highly sceptical that Jaime and Cersei will die together in the books either. Yet the impression that Wuthering Heights leaves is that the unhealthy nature of Heathcliff and Catherine’s bond is at the root of their own self-destruction and tragic end:

Ere long, I heard the click of the latch, and Catherine flew up-stairs, breathless and wild; too excited to show gladness: indeed, by her face, you would rather have surmised an awful calamity. – Nelly, Chapter X ‘Mrs. Linton is now just recovering,’ I said; ‘she’ll never be like she was, but her life is spared; and if you really have a regard for her, you’ll shun crossing her way again. […] Another encounter between you and the master would kill her altogether.’ – Nelly, Chapter XIV ‘You have killed me and thriven on it, I think.’ -  Catherine, Chapter XV “’Nay, it’s enough that he has murdered one of you,’ I observed aloud. ‘At the Grange, everyone knows your sister would have been living now had it not been for Mr. Heathcliff. After all, it is preferable to be hated than loved by him. When I recollect how happy we were, how happy Catherine was before he came, I’m fit to curse the day.’ Most likely, Heathcliff noticed more the truth of what was said, than the spirit of the person who said it. His attention was roused, I saw, for his eyes rained down tears among the ashes, and he drew his breath in suffocating sighs.” – Isabella, Chapter XVII ‘She might have been living yet, if it had not been for him!’ was his constant bitter reflection; and, in his eyes, Heathcliff seemed a murderer. – Nelly, Chapter XXI

‘I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer but yours! How can I?’ – Heathcliff, Chapter XV ‘It was a strange way of killing: not by inches, but by fractions of hairbreadths, to beguile me with the spectre of a hope through eighteen years!’ – Heathcliff, Chapter XXIX

The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, ‘Let me in let me in!’ ‘Who are you?’ I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. ‘Catherine Linton,’ it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of Linton? I had read Earnshaw twenty times for Linton) ‘I’m come home: I’d lost my way on the moor!’ As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child’s face looking through the window. - Mr. Lockwood, Chapter III The following evening was very wet: indeed, it poured down till day-dawn; and, as I took my morning walk round the house, I observed the master’s window swinging open, and the rain driving straight in. […] I peeped in. Mr. Heathcliff was there laid on his back. His eyes met mine so keen and fierce, I started; and then he seemed to smile. I could not think him dead: but his face and throat were washed with rain; the bed-clothes dripped, and he was perfectly still. The lattice, flapping to and fro, had grazed one hand that rested on the sill; no blood trickled from the broken skin, and when I put my fingers to it, I could doubt no more: he was dead and stark! – Nelly, Chapter XXXVI

And I wouldn’t be surprised if A Song Of Ice And Fire were to go in the same direction:

It is raining again, he thought when he saw how wet she was. The water was trickling down her cloak to puddle round her feet. How did she get here? I never heard her enter. She was dressed like a tavern wench in a heavy roughspun cloak, badly dyed in mottled browns and fraying at the hem. A hood concealed her face, but he could see the candles dancing in the green pools of her eyes, and when she moved he knew her. – Jaime, AFFC I thought that I was the Warrior and Cersei was the Maid, but all the time she was the Stranger, hiding her true face from my gaze. – Jaime, AFFC The Stranger represents death and the unknown, and leads the dead to the other world. Whilst referred to as male, he is neither male nor female. The Stranger's face has been described as half-human, concealed beneath a hooded mantle. – A Wiki Of Ice And Fire

“Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds. And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you.” – Maggy The Frog, AFFC “Tyrion is the valonqar. Do you use that word in Myr? It's High Valyrian, it means little brother.”  - Cersei, AFFC “He came into this world holding my foot, our old maester said”. – Cersei, AGOT “The Imp is no longer my brother, if he ever was.” – Cersei, AFFC A man stepped into the lantern light, and she saw his cloak was white. “Jaime?” I dreamt of one brother, but the other has come to wake me. – Cersei, AFFC

So, in conclusion, I find it plausible that George might have simply taken the narcissism, the violence and the “twin soul”/“other half” connection present in Wuthering Heights to it’s even more extreme by creating the chaotic mess that is the incestuous relationship between twins who are mirror images of each other... And there's a decent number of parallels to at least make a case for it!

Tag: @faintingheroine

#this is huge :o #but honestly I cut so much other stuff that I wanted to talk about #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #heathcliff #catherine earnshaw #parallels #meta #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #wuthering heights

[jungkookslipring]

I Will Never Make You Lonely: CH 3

Summary: When your life is falling apart, your 8 best friends are there to lift you up

TW: mentions of de&th, su!c!de, su!c!de tendencies, su!c!dal ideologies, depress!on, anxiety, crying. If this is in any way triggering I’d steer towards more of my happier works. 

If you or someone you love has thought of or acted on suicide, there is help and there is hope 

Call or text 988

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, non-idol AU

PSA: this is no way represents the artists. While their birth names are used in this story, this is in no way a reflection of the artist or artists in real life.

AU: mentions of de&th are implied in this chapter, read at your own risk.

Ch 3

A few days later, you were in your room, double-checking to make sure you hadn't forgotten anything important. Minho, Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin came in early to bid you farewell and wished you a safe journey. They were sad that they couldn't accompany you as their schedules didn't permit them. Although you weren't going to be away for long, you were eagerly looking forward to your flight back to Seoul. As you packed your last-minute items such as your toothbrush, contact lenses, medication, etc., there was a soft knock at your door.

“Come in,” you answered. Changbin and Han peeked their heads in as the door slowly opened. They didn't have classes till later.

“Hey,” they greeted you with smiles.

“Hi,” you said. 

“You all packed up?” Han asked. You nodded.

“Yeah, just packed up the last-minute stuff,” you said pointing to your toiletry bag that sat on top of your backpack. Changbin stepped forward.

“Well before you go, I didn’t want you to leave without this,” he said as he pulled out a squishmallow he had behind his back. It was a large taro boba squishmallow. 

“What’s this?” you ask as you stare at it with adoration.

“We know you were talking about getting yourself one. We were going to give it to you on your birthday but decided maybe you needed it more now,” he said with a smile. You slowly accepted the squishmallow and you held it close. 

“You guys are amazing, thank you,” you say sincerely, pulling them both into a hug. They would truly do anything to help you feel better. When it was time to leave, you saw Chris walking out of his room with his favorite sweatshirt in hand, ready to give it to you. You folded it and put it in your backpack along with the squishmallow. The boys hugged you goodbye and you left. The ride to the airport was terrible and the flight was worse. While the flight itself was smooth as can be, you couldn't sleep for the 12-hour flight, despite trying everything from listening to music, podcasts, and the ASMR links that Felix sent you, but Chris's sweatshirt and squishmallow provided some comfort. You curled up with them, feeling the scent of Chris's cologne. When you landed at SEATAC, you messaged Peyton and the boys to let them know you made it back.

It's The Spamming For Me

Me: Just landed in SEATAC

They all must’ve had their phones surgically glued to their hands because they all responded immediately.

Father of 7: glad you made it safely!

Cowife: eat and sleep well y/n!

Twin: miss you already!

Disney Prince: sleep well y/n, see you soon

BBG: sending you so many hugs

Angel Baby: you’re already missed!

Minnie Mouse: THE APARTMENT IS CHAOS COME BACK NOW

It's just a Little Guy: we love you y/n

You giggled at their messages as you quickly responded. 

Me: I love you all too xoxo

After retrieving your bag, you headed towards the sky bridge that connects to the parking garage. Peyton was already there, waiting for you. Seeing only Peyton pick you up instead of her and Carter made your heart hurt, but you sucked it up and walked quickly over to Peyton. As soon as you were in each other’s arms, you could hear her sniffles, but you stayed strong for her. Peyton was Carter's only legal guardian, so you had to be there for her.

“How was your flight?” she sniffed as she helped you with your backpack. You shrugged.

“Fine, I guess…I didn’t exactly sleep,” you said scratching your neck. As you both walked towards the parking garage, she threw an arm around you. She then threw your backpack into the backseat before starting the engine. The drive to Peyton's place was quiet and uneventful. Once you arrived, you tossed your belongings onto the bed in the spare bedroom. While you were unpacking, Peyton walked in with two glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“It probably isn’t ideal, but Carter would’ve done it for either of us,” she said with a slight smile. You snorted because yes, Carter would’ve 110% gotten plastered the night before either of their funerals. The two of you made your way to the balcony and plopped yourselves down on the couch. Even though you felt like crap, there was a gentle breeze and at least the stars were out, and the skyline was gorgeous.

“How have you been?” Peyton asked. You shrugged.

“It’s been a rollercoaster for sure,” you said, swirling your glass. Peyton nodded.

“But how about you?” you ask. You had no right to be feeling the way Peyton felt. That’s what you told yourself at least.

“I can’t bring myself to even sit in the living room sometimes,” she says looking down at her glass. You nodded; Carter used to always sleep on the couch when she’d stay the night, claiming it was comfier than Peyton’s bed. 

“I’m sure the guys have been there for you?” Peyton asked before sipping her wine. You smiled. 

“Yeah, they’ve been nothing but amazing. One night I had been up for almost 72 hours cause I couldn’t sleep and I was studying, but the guys got me to participate in our weekly Friday night movie marathon night, and I ended up getting a decent amount of sleep.” Peyton smiled at that. 

“It’s nice having friends like that,” she said genuinely; she was a little concerned though. She could sense you were distracting yourself more than just feeling the emotions. The thought of your boys made your heart sing.

“They’re the best…,” you said before taking a swig of your wine as Peyton watched.

“Damn down the hatch,” she says with a wet chuckle. 

You spent the rest of the night with your friend, sharing your favorite memories of Carter. It was a way to remember her, especially the stories you wouldn't dare tell at the funeral. The day of the funeral came around too quickly. You woke up feeling heavy-hearted, wrapped in Chris's hoodie, holding a plush toy close to your chest. It took all your strength to get out of bed and ready for the funeral. You couldn't believe you were preparing to say goodbye to your best friend.

You tried to remain composed for the sake of Carter's family. The funeral went by in a blur, and you were grateful there was no open casket. It helped you stay strong for everyone, but you couldn't help denying the fact that Carter was in that casket, about to be buried six feet under. You tried to push the thought out of your mind, but it kept coming back.

You let your friends know you needed to study at your apartment for a few days, but you'd be back soon. They understood and said you were always welcome to come back. When it was time for you to leave, you said goodbye to Peyton and sent a text to your friends to let them know you were heading home. You knew you couldn't stay in the States any longer without it feeling too real.

It's The Spamming For Me

Me: I’m heading home

Father of 7: have a safe flight y/n!

Twin: see you soon!

Disney Prince: xoxoxo!

BBG: Minho and I wish you safe travels!

Angel Baby: YAY! Get back safely, I need my cuddle buddy!

Minnie Mouse: Have a safe flight! Jeongin says hurry back and save him from Minho

The second you stepped foot in your place, it didn’t feel right. You pulled out your phone and dialed the first name in your contacts list.  

While he was in the shower, Chris’s phone started ringing.

“Hannie, can you grab that for me please?” Chris called out. Han grabbed the phone and checked who it was before answering. 

“Chris’s phone, his favorite child speaking,” Han joked, pretty proud of himself. 

“Yah!” Chris scolded but with a big smile plastered on his face. You snorted.

“Felix?” You said biting your lip trying not to laugh. Han’s eyes went huge. 

“YAH!” He yelled even louder. Chris laughed as he did his best not to get water in his eyes from leaning so far back. You shook your head.

“Can I come over? I was going to study at my place but I need a change of scenery,” you say playing with your shirt.

“You don’t have to ask y/n, you're always welcome,” Han said sincerely. You smiled at that.

“Okay, I’ll see you guys soon then!” You said enthusiastically. 

“See you soon!” He said before hanging up. He set the phone down and looked at Chris. 

“Y/n is coming over so get unnaked,” he said jokingly before going to open the door. Chris laughed.

“She lives 10 min from us. I think I have time!” Chris shouted back with a big smile on his face. You kept your composure when you walked in, despite the lump in your throat upon opening their door. All of the boys greeted and chatted with you briefly before you retreated to your room. Instead of unpacking and relaxing, you decided to work on your computer. Despite not getting any sleep on the flight, you felt that you should be productive. It was around 9 pm, and although you were exhausted, you didn't want to think about the funeral. While reading case studies, you came across one that deeply affected you. It made your heartache. This particular case study caused one of the subjects to take their own life because of the trauma they went through. Once you were about to finish writing a sentence, you got a call from Carter’s sister. 

“Hey Peyton,” you say as you continue typing. You heard sniffling on the other line.

“Pey? Shit did I forget to let you know I made it back??” You ask. You heard her take a shaky exhale before speaking. 

“No no, you did…um…I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to say it. Y/n…Carter’s death wasn’t an accident,” she choked out. Your eyes went huge.

“What do you mean?” You ask frantically. You were hoping with every fiber of your being it wasn’t what you thought it was.

“I was sitting in her room and I…I found a letter…” and your heart stopped.

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

taglist: @felixmainacc @felixburneracc @myforevermelody143 @dunno-wut-to-do @itzsana-kiddingmenow

#stray kids #stray kids x stay #skz fanfic #christopher bang #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #skz angst #college au #stray kids college au #non idol au

[cytryndor]

I dedicate this post to @starmaniswaitinginthesky, who prompted me with „I'd actually love to see a scene with them realizing Charles is not so heterosexual himself?”

To begin, lemme present you a list that I made last night:

People Charles would find attractive (and thought that’s heterosexual thing to do):

* Elvis Presley

* Tony Curtis

* John F Kennedy

* George Takei

…and more! If you have any more ideas, lemme know.

Now, to the scene.

Let’s say it around 2022/2023, and Charles still doesn’t know that Mr Takei is, in fact, someone more than an ally. And that he, Mabel and Oliver got invited on some fancy dinner party (I mean, he does know about that, that one is to let’s say).

And that someone made him realize, that most heterosexual males are not attracted to Tony Curtis, or George Takei.

-

Charles: Why- how would I know their sexualities?

Oliver: How would you, exactly.

[Quite obviously, CHARLES’ in shock. OLIVER looks quite delighted, and MABEL just enjoys the show]

Charles: When, when did he even came out?

Oliver: So, to the public he came out in 2005. For me, way back in the 70s.

Charles: Why would he came out to you? [scoff]

Oliver: [humble] Well, it’s nice to know of someone’s taste into you before you take them to bed.

[MABEL almost spits out her drink; OLIVER tries not to grin, and stay in his humble persona, and CHARLES has his mouth wide open, not believing what he just heard. OLIVER lifts up his hand, and closes CHARLES’ mouth, gently patting his cheek afterwards, kindness in his eyes. CHARLES regains his posture]

Charles: You know what? This is bullshit. I’m tired of you making up all of those „celeb stories” of yours. Grow up.

[in the meantime, they’re approached by GEORGE TAKEI himself]

George: Ollie! [he greets OLIVER, places his hands on PUTNAM’s arms and kisses him on both cheeks]

Oliver: Georgie [smiles, and seemingly ignores CHARLES, who is (quite understandably) in shock] Have you met my friend, Charles-

George: -Haden Savage, of course [now, he turns to CHARLES, and shakes his hand] Haven’t had the pleasure yet.

Charles: Oh- oh, yes. My pleasure.

Oliver: [under his breath] It sure is.

[For that, he got lightly and quietly smacked by MABEL and her elbow]

Mabel: Mabel Mora [now, it’s her turn to shake his hand, which she does gracefully] It’s really lovely to meet you.

George: The pleasure is mine. After all, Oliver’s friends are my friends [again, he smiles at PUTNAM, and lets go of MABEL’s hand]

Oliver: Now, listen, Georgie, Charles here is a big fan of yours [two pairs of eyes are locked at OLIVER; GEORGE is just looking, with kindness in his eyes, and CHARLES is murdering OLIVER with his gaze. MABEL, on the other hand, is looking at CHARLES, worried that he might blow up (literally, not like at OLIVER) any second] And I thought, why wouldn’t you give him your number? I’m sure he’d be thrilled. And, after all, you’re both big TV stars. I’m sure there’s lots of stuff you two can talk about.

George: Oh, there’s no problem whatsoever,

[GEORGE starts looking around for some piece of paper and something to write with; and while he can’t find anything to write on, he was handed a black marker by MABEL. As if it’s nothing, he takes CHARLES’ hand and starts writing his numer on it. OLIVER is happily smiling, looking at MABEL and CHARLES. MABEL is also looking at her besties, and CHARLES is speechless]

George: There you go.

[GEORGE smiles at CHARLES, and gives MABEL back her marker. Someone in the room yells for GEORGE, so he excuses himself and leaves the podcast trio. Now, as they’re left alone, OLIVER and MABEL looks at CHARLES with anticipation. SAVAGE tho, instead of doing something they’d expect, just looks OLIVER and goes:]

Charles: It’s ridiculous! Is there any celebrity that’s our age that you haven’t slept with?

[Before OLIVER can answer, MABEL chimes in]

Mabel: I don’t know, you?

[CHARLES scoffs]

Oliver: And what a shame it is.

#oliver putnam #charles haden savage #mabel mora #george takei #tony curtis #olicharles #scene #only murders in the building #only murders hulu #omitb #omitb hulu #brazzos #star trek

[crab-instruments]

The Crime Lord’s New Groove Part 5

Master <Part 4 Part 6>

Pairing: Silco x GN Reader

Summary: You find that your boss, Silco, has been turned into a cat.

Warnings: none

a/n: I'm not dead, just listening to podcast about people with delusions of grandeur, and maybe that's where this story will end up.

Smuggling cat-Silco into his office was much easier than getting him out. It helped Sevika could glare anyone into submission, forcing them to look down at the ground while you carried the precious cargo that was your boss.

You and Sevika tore the office apart, searching for any clues. Random cursed objects, cat claws and whiskers used for a sacrifice, even Shimmer tainted catnip. There was nothing, though it’s not like either of you knew what to look for. Besides, neither of you spent enough time in the office to know if something was out of place.

The cat himself clearly had other things to do. You watched as Silco tapped objects around with mild interest, using some to test the gravity in the office. A small pile of trinkets and pens amassed on the floor as time went on. Every once and a while, Silco would sit his scruffy-looking ass down, tail wrapped over his front paws, and stare holes into you and Sevika. His look was bored, as if expecting to be entertained. Neither of you knew what he wanted, so he would go back to tapping objects.

“So, what you’re telling me is… you know nothing.”

Never taking your eye off a pen as it rolled under the desk, you responded dejectedly. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like I didn’t try. However, I think I’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty here.”

Sevika scoffed. “Right. You have no answers and no leads but you definitely deserve a raise.”

You groaned and swiveled your head toward the golden armed warrior. “It’s not like I was here when it happened and I already told you my suspect is—”

“A lady with no appointment, who said something, and left without anyone noticing.”

“Yeah so, I mean, that’s not nothing—”

“There are many ladies in Zaun, you moron, it barely narrows it down.”

“I’m not exactly an expert in therianthropy or shapeshifting. I work behind the bar most nights! Y’all don’t even trust me enough to do inventory, so I fail to see how this is remotely my problem.” You dug the heals of your hands into your eyes and sighed, annoyed at how unlucky you were to have been the one to have found Silco. “Do you remember what that old hag looked like, from yesterday? She was the last one you saw come in here, right? Could you describe her enough so I could draw her face and see if we can use that to ask around?”

It was quiet for a moment. You looked up to see both Silco and Sevika staring at you incredulously. Raising your arms in question, you glared back at the two.

Sevika huffed, “You can draw? I’ve seen your handwriting, it’s dogshit.”

Underpaid and underappreciated, you wondered why you even offered and why you were still here. You grabbed a pen off the floor and some loose paper, making room on the messy desk. The sketch of the woman’s face started out generic, a base for Sevika to go off of.

It was all going fine until a few lines started to get out of hand and the pen became difficult to use. You scowled at Silco, who was much closer and swatting the moving pen. Lifting the pen out of reach, you frowned, trying to convey your annoyance. No emotion showed on his face, only focused on his target.

A silent battle was fought between the two of you. Silco looked at you with defiant eyes. This was Silco’s desk, pen, paper, and office, and if he wanted to play with the pen, it was his right. However, you were trying to help make him not a cat and his little paws were interfering with that work. After a few seconds, you made your attack. You lifted Silco up, keeping him at arms length, and placed him on the chair all while ignoring the deepening scowl the scruffy feline gave.

“If Silco remembers what happened while he was a cat, he’ll kill you. Maybe worse.”

You sighed, “He’ll have to get in line. Just tell me what the lady looked like.”

Silco accepted his fate, stretching his claws into the seat of the chair, walking in a circle, and curling up into a fluffy ball.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After pulling the details out from Sevika, which was more difficult than you could have imagined (like it was Sevika’s job to keep them secret and close to her heart), you had a sketch to go off of. When you had a moment to finally look at it, you were sure you messed up somewhere.

You turned to Sevika, the sketch outstretched in your hands. “Is this what she looked like?”

“Shit, that looks just like the woman. It’s almost like you’ve seen her before.”

Silco snapped his head up, eyes bleary from sleep, now alert. He uncurled himself from the chair to leap onto the desk for a better vantage point. A single paw tapped your wrist impatiently a few times until you laid out the sketch on the desk. Silco took a few steps back, taking in the portrait. His head tilted from side to side before he pounced on the paper and looked up at you, meowing in approval.

“Even Silco agrees.” You rubbed your face, giving yourself a moment to think. “Well, the good news is, I know who the woman is.”

“Really? Who?”

“My landlord.”

Seivka stood and started making her way toward the door. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get going.”

“Wait! But I live there! I can’t go accusing my landlord of witchcraft, she’ll evict me.”

“How is that my problem?”

You sputtered, thrown off kilter by Sevika’s lack of empathy. “Where would I live?”

Before Sevika could answer, Silco meowed loud enough to startle you both. He held his presence as if he was human again, demanding respect and attention. It was easy to forget how powerful he was when he looked so cute and fluffy.

“Silco will reward you for helping him, of course.”

Sighing, you considered the offer. Realistically, you couldn’t say no to Silco anyway. “Fine, but let me talk to her first. I’ll try to negotiate nicely and if that doesn’t work, you can be the bad cop.”

The golden armed brute looked toward that cat sitting on the desk, waiting for approval. Silco sat up straight, regal as always, and looked between the two of you. He nodded and blinked slowly. It was a weird scene to experience, waiting for a cat to dictate the path of your future.

The same cat that started grooming himself on top of the desk.

“The boss has spoken, let’s go.”

Part 6

*~*~*

#crab fics #silco x reader #silco x you #lol silco #arcane silco #the crime lord's new groove