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adirtylittleheart · 4 days

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REMEDY You and Matt are suck in a house full of people during a relentless summer heat wave. With frustrations running high from the heat and lack of sex, you find a way to help and remedy that. Warning: 18+ Smut. Fucking. P in V. Public (but private). MattXfem reader & oc (see below) Notes: Please note that I am putting this up as a READER and an OC. So, the first section will be the READER and the second is OC. I've had so many people ask me to please make it reader and others want it OC. So, I'm going to try and cater to all. I hope this works...if not I'll return to the drawing board and try something else. Maybe post two separate? Let me know what you think - I'll see DM's quicker cause somedays I don't have the time to get on and I have a lot of activity. THANK YOU ALL THOUGH FOR READING. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME.

REMEDY The heat was unbearable. The Sturniolo family went to The Cape for the summer, with girlfriends and significant others tagging along. The house wasn’t huge and some of us had to share sleeping spaces and set-up camp in the living room. We were tight knit and we all got along like a house on fire, so it wasn’t a problem but lack of sleep on the hot, sweltering nights was another story. With severe heatwaves come some complications like; power outages and malfunctioning air conditioners. It was the kind of heat that pressed against one’s skin. Where you wanted to fan yourself down, but all that seemed to do was move the hot air around. The hot, humid breeze did nothing but tease with the promise of relief.

‘’The fucking weather!’’ Matt groaned, ‘’This was supposed to be a great trip for us…for you,’’ he said looking disappointed

‘’Well,’’ I said, and leaned forward then gave him a kiss, ‘’if it’s any conciliation, I’m having a great time.’’

‘’You would in this heat,’’ Matt said through a laugh, ‘’you’re the only one here that will get through this unscathed. You’re the only one here that actually enjoys the heat, which makes me wonder what the fuck is wrong with you. How come you’re so perfect and not even the heat will get you?’’

I laughed, ‘’so…I’ve meant to tell you a long time ago, but there was never really a perfect time to do so, but I’m from this little planet called -’’ I was saying when Matt let out a laugh cutting me off

‘’Shut up,’’ he said and pushed his lips to mine. Just a few days ago, I accidentally overheard Matt talking to Nick and Chris and found out a few things that didn’t know, and that had me feeling like I was the luckiest and most blessed person to walk the earth. Mind you, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I sure am glad I stopped in my tracks when I walked past the kitchen and heard my name. They say you never hear anything go about yourself when you eavesdrop but I’m a testament to that being complete bullshit. He had said to them that he knew without a doubt that I was the one he wanted to marry, have kids with, and spend the rest of his life with. That he loved that I loved his family as much as they loved me and that I was always willing to help out… and most of all he loved that I was definitely up for anything. The biggest smile crossed my face when he said he loves how I make everything fun and exciting in his eyes. He also said he loved that I came across as a little saint to everyone else, but I was definitely a little devil when it came to fucking. At that point I walked away – I was happy and it was all I ever needed to hear.

Matt sighed next to me as we lay on the blow-up mattress. The heat really was relentless and stifling. Every time we moved, it felt as if the sheets were clinging to us. A fan was blowing cool air but it was as helpful and equivalent to puckering one’s lips up and blowing air out of them. It was so hot, we were all struggling to sleep. I sensed that Matt was not only frustrated by the heat but also that with so many people in a house sharing, we couldn’t do much in the sex department, though we certainly found ways. Matt and I said that we would sleep in the living room on a blow-up mattress while Chris and his girlfriend shared the couch.

‘’Are you okay?’’ I whispered when Matt once again let out a groan

‘’It’s like we’re in a desert or something,’’ Matt mumbled and sat up. He reached for a glass of water on a nearby side table and made some kind of sound then he looked at me with horror. ‘’The fucking ice has melted in the glass already,’’ he said, his voice laced with disbelief. It concerned me because Matt was generally calm but he was definitely agitated by the heat.

I lay for a moment, staring at the ceiling wondering how I could help him. My eyes swung from one end of the ceiling to the other, then back again. I suddenly sat up, finding the remedy to maybe both the heat and lack of sex problem…even if it was only a short reprieve. I slid off the mattress and then padded to his side, and put my hand out, palms up.

‘’Come on,’’ I whispered

‘’You two might as well just talk, and not whisper,’’ Chris said

‘’Shut up,’’ Matt said loudly through a laugh

‘’Fuck off,’’ Chris replied with a chuckle

‘’Sorry, Chris,’’ I said with a giggle. They never ceased to make me laugh with their friendly banter

‘’Nah (y/n), I mean it’s so hot, we can’t sleep anyway,’’ Chris said, his girlfriend giving a ‘’mhm’’ in agreement.

Matt put his hand in mine and I pulled him up. ‘’Where are we going?’’ he asked, his movements were slower than mine in the heat.

‘’A walk,’’ I said softly as I lead him to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of ice cold water and handed it to Matt as he looked at the time on the microwave, it’s glowing green telling him it was two in the morning. He sighed thinking it was a long way from morning but still the weather on the news had said it would be an equally hot day, if not hotter. I hesitated closing the door because the cool air felt so good on my hot skin. I had on what I can only describe as a t-shirt that I had taken a pair of scissors to. Matt had given me one of his old t-shirts and we cut the sleeves off, along with the neck line, widening it to help with the heat. I really didn’t mind the heat, but this? This was something else. I felt for everyone else because if I was feeling it, they must have been suffering. I closed the door and smiled at Matt, who gave me a weak smile back.

We slipped out the door, quietly into the night, ‘’Should I put a t shirt on?’’ Matt asked

‘’Show me one man who has a shirt on in this weather and I’ll give him a thousand dollars,’’ I said

‘’Does that include me and does it still stand until we get back?’’ Matt asked

I giggled and smacked his tight ass, ‘’always,’’ I replied

‘’Where are we going?’’ Matt asked and slipped his hand into mine. Our fingers intertwined and he lifted our hands and then he gave my hand a kiss. ‘’Thanks for this, it is slightly better out here.’’

I smiled at Matt, ‘’the park,’’ I said simply

The moon was full and illuminated the way for us. It was quiet but for the water lapping to the shore. The roads were dead and the park deserted. People had either passed out from the heat or were sitting in front of fans hoping to cool down. The park was relatively close to the house, but hidden and nestled amongst trees. I led Matt to the swings and Matt sat on one while I sat on the other, right next to him. I started swinging softly while Matt only moved back and forth slightly on the swing, keeping his feet on the ground. He took a sip of water, and offered me some, but I shook my head with a warm smile.

‘’Matt? Remember that park we went to at Evan’s house?’’ I asked and stopped the swing, then got off, ‘’you know, when he had that party?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Matt said as he put the bottled water on the ground, and then it hit him. His eyes went big and his award-winning smile formed on his face. How could he have forgotten that?

‘’Yeah?’’ I asked and bit my bottom lip seductively

‘’Fuck yes! Hop on,’’ Matt said and I squealed softly with excitement as I grabbed the chains and lifted myself onto Matt’s lap, sliding my legs over his as I sat down, my legs handing over his on their side of the swing. Matt smiled, because the last time we both had fumbled a lot trying to work out how to do it but now we seemed to have mastered it. Well…we were going to find out.

‘’How did I get so lucky?’’ Matt asked me softly

I smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek and tilted his face up a fraction, ‘’I’m the lucky one,’’ I whispered and lightly brushed my lips against his.

My hand slid down his neck, and his chest, and then my fingers danced above his shorts elastic, as Matt deepened the kiss. It was never pedestrian. His kisses always made me feel desired, and wanted. I got drunk on our kisses. Matt moaned into the kiss and I felt his hands by mine. I knew he was getting impatient so I moved my hand and brought it to my pussy and moved my panties to the side while he pushed his shorts down as much as he could. The small piece of material was wet already and I felt Matt’s cock, now free of his shorts, as hard as a rock, between us. That alone sent every nerve in my body tingling.

His hands found the straps of my shirt and he pushed them down, over my shoulders. I smiled into the kiss and pulled my arms out the straps, letting the material fall softly. Matt broke the kiss, eager to get a nipple into his hungry mouth. I moaned, dropping my head back and arched my back, pushing my titties forward so Matt could take in more. He was a genius with his tongue no matter where it was on my body. I bit my bottom lip and slid my hand between us and closed my hand around Matt’s thick shaft. He was rock solid hard and I smiled wickedly because his pre-cum had run down his shaft, leaving him slick. He sucked in a sharp breath from the touch on his painfully erect dick but it felt so fucking good. I lifted myself, aimed his dick at my little tight entrance, then I slid onto his dick agonizingly slowly, savouring every inch going in. We both groaned loudly with simultaneous pleasure.

‘’Oh god (y/n),’’ Matt moaned, ‘’you have no idea how good that feels.’’

‘’Oh, but I do,’’ I said with a grin and licked my hand of the pre-cum, making Matt swear under his breath. ‘’Start swinging. We don’t want to be caught,’’ I purred.

‘’I’ve been wanting to fuck you all day’’ Matt said curling his hands around the chains,’’this won’t take long.’’

I smiled, as I also curled my hands around the chains, the cool metal making me even more aroused, ‘’me too.''

Matt laughed and pushed back with his legs and then let us fall forward on the swing as he tucked his legs back. He sure was going to have one hell of a workout keeping the swing in motion. I knew without a doubt he could handle it though. We were soon gliding through the air, back and forth. Every time we went back, I would slide down his dick and when we got to the furthest point, having to go back down, I would push down on him as forces of nature worked. We moaned loudly with sheer pleasure every time that happened and Matt groaned feeling himself deep inside of my tight, wet pussy. When we went back down, I was lifted up, his dick sliding halfway out, exposing him to the cooler air, then he would slip back into my hot pussy.. The contrast of heat and cool air in motion sent a pleasant shiver up his spine, never feeling anything like it.

Matt loved everything – the way we had to be so close, the way we molded into each other, the fact that we had to rely upon and trust each other. The tightness around his hard throbbing cock, the way my hair flew out and fanned behind me when we went up, and then around me when we went back down, and…. he loved the look on my face with my breasts firmly in front of him. He wanted to touch them, grab them but he couldn’t. Fuck! It was the most blissful torture ever. The deep penetration on the up was something different than normal penetration. It was a force that could only be achieved in their current position and situation.

Matt could tell I was close as my pussy started fluttering around his cock, my body got tense and I dropped my head.

‘’Ooh, Matt…shit, Matt…’’ I said with urgency as I felt my muscles tightening, the rush coursing through me and pure ecstasy shoot over my body. I let one hand go from the chains and put it around Matt’s shoulders, looking for more purchase. I pushed my face into the side of his neck as my walls clasped around Matt like a vice grip. The sheer strength around him set him on the very edge. My loud screams and moans were muffled as I buried my face into his neck and shoulder. I let go of the chains with my other hand to grip him tighter as Matt brought us to a stop. My fingers dug into his muscles and my body shook against him. Once we were stationary Matt grabbed my ass and lifted me, and then pushed me back down on his cock.

‘’FUCK YES, (y/n),’’ Matt moaned as he felt a splash. The sound of my moans, the feel of my skin, and my smell were so intoxicating to Matt as he slammed me down on him again and let out a growl as he felt his orgasm shoot out from the base of his balls and run through him. I lifted my face and we locked eyes for a second before my eyes went big as I sucked in a breath.

‘’Kiss me,’’ Matt said through clenched teeth knowing I was coming yet again. Matt wanted to scream too, because it was so incredible but he knew he couldn’t as my walls locked around him again. He shot a massive load into me, rope after rope, after rope. After holding it in all day, wanting me all day…it built up. I pushed my lips to his, our tongues immediately meeting. The kiss muffled most of my screams and moans but a few escaped into the quiet night. Neither of us cared at the very moment. Matt’s dick twitched at the last spray into my pussy, and I still lifted and rammed myself down on him two more times before I slumped onto him, breaking the kiss. Matt slid his arms around me and sat like that for five minutes, panting, trying to catch our breath. In the distance, we heard laughter, and Matt slowly slid his hands back down my back as I sat up straight again. He found the straps of my shirt and then pulled them up. I then pushed my arms into them and he let the straps rest on my shoulders. He pulled his still-hard dick out of my warm, wet, overflowing pussy, a low moan escaping him, not wanting to but having to pull out.

Matt looked over my shoulder and I turned my head as we heard low talking in the distance. A couple were walking on the side walk but I knew the couple couldn’t see us, and that we had the vantage point.. Clearly two lovers where out on a walk also trying to escape the heat. They were in the distance, but I could tell they were holding hands and very much into each other. I watched them disappear into a thick of trees and I turned back to Matt.

Matt smiled and gave me a half nod, ‘’they should try the swings,’’ he said and I burst out laughing. I pushed a hand between ourselves and pulled my panties back into place and then grabbed the chains and weakly pulled myself up and climbed off of Matt. As my feet hit the ground, I tried to stand, but my legs buckled and Matt grabbed me to stop me from falling.

‘’I’m fucking spent,’’ I said with laugh

‘’That was…something else. Fucking amazing,’’ Matt said through his own laugh

‘’You’re a mess,’’ I said

‘’So are you,’’ Matt said with a laugh. We were both covered in sweat with our combination of cum and juices sticking to our skin, our hair matted but looking so satisfied and elated.

I looked down and saw some of Matt’ cum running down my leg. I smiled and took my index finger and ran it up the zigzag line it had formed, collecting it. I then lifted my finger to my mouth and licked it off.

Matt smiled, ‘’you're so fucking hot,’’ he said, noting I didn’t do that for him, I did it for myself. I wanted to taste him, savor him.

I let my eyes fall back on Matt as I swallowed and smiled. ‘’I can clean you up,’’ I said

‘’Not this time. You can hardly stand... we’ll take a quick shower when we get home,’’ Matt said and somewhere along the line, Matt had put his dick away and fixed his shorts because he pulled me down onto his lap.

‘’Do you feel better?’’ I asked Matt softly

‘’You have no idea. Thank you, baby. I love you so much,’’ Matt said and gave me a kiss.

‘’Good,’’ I said and ran my fingertips along his stubbly jaw, ‘’I love you too.’’

‘’I’ll piggy back you home,’’ Matt said and smiled to himself because he had the best little vixen saint and I was the remedy he needed. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! You are very much appreciated. <3

For the OC Version babies! The heat was unbearable. The Sturniolo family went to The Cape for the summer, with girlfriends and significant others tagging along. The house wasn’t huge and some had to share sleeping spaces and a few even set up camp in the living room. They were all tight-knit and everyone got along like a house on fire, so it wasn’t a problem but lack of sleep on the hot, sweltering nights was another story. With severe heatwaves came some complications like; power outages and malfunctioning air conditioners. It was the kind of heat that pressed against one's skin. Where you wanted to fan yourself down but all that did was move the hot air around. The hot, humid breeze did nothing but tease with the promise of relief.

‘’The fucking weather!’’ Matt groaned. This was supposed to be a great trip for us…for you,’’ he said looking disappointed

‘’Well,’’ Eden said and leaned forward to give him a kiss, ‘’if it’s any conciliation, I’m having a great time.’’

Eden laughed, ‘’so…I’ve meant to tell you a long time ago, but there was never really a perfect time to do so, but I’m from this little planet called -’’ Eden was saying when Matt let out a laugh

‘’Shut up,’’ he said and pushed his lips to hers. He knew with out a doubt that she was the one he wanted to marry, have kids with and spend the rest of his life with. She loved his family as much as they loved her and she was always ready and willing to help… and he loved that she was definitely up for anything. She made everything fun and exciting. He loved that she came across as little saint to everyone else, but he knew she was definitely a little devil when it came to fucking. She adored and loved Matt, and never a day went by that she didn’t feel lucky and blessed to have Matt and his family in her life.

Matt sighed as he and Eden lay next to each other on the blow-up mattress. The heat really was relentless and stifling. Every time they moved, it felt like the sheets were clinging to their bodies. A fan was blowing cool air but it was as helpful, and equivalent to puckering one’s lips up and blowing air out of them. It was so hot, that they were all struggling to sleep. Eden sensed Matt was not only frustrated by the heat but also that with so many people in a house sharing, they couldn’t do much in the sex department, though they certainly found ways. Matt and Eden said they would sleep in the living room on a blow-up mattress while Chris and his girlfriend, shared the couch.

‘’Are you okay?’’ Eden whispered when Matt once again let out a groan

‘’It’s like we’re in a desert or something,’’ Matt mumbled and sat up. He reached for a glass of water on a nearby side table and made some kind of sound and then looked at Eden with horror. ‘’The fucking ice has melted in the glass already,’’ he said, his voice laced with disbelief. It concerned her because Matt was generally calm but he was definitely agitated by the heat.

Eden lay for a moment, staring at the ceiling wondering how she could help him. Her eyes swung from one end of the ceiling to the other, then back again. She suddenly sat up, finding the remedy to maybe both the heat and lack of sex problem…even if it was only a short reprieve. She slid off the mattress then padded to his side and put her hand out, palms up.

‘’Come on,’’ she whispered

‘’You two might as well just talk, and not whisper,’’ Chris said

‘’Shut up,’’ Matt said loudly through a laugh

‘’Fuck off,’’ Chris replied with a chuckle

‘’Sorry, Chris,’’ Eden said with a giggle. They never ceased to make her laugh with their friendly banter.

‘’Nah Edie, I mean it’s so hot, I can’t sleep anyway,’’ Chris said and his girlfriend let out a ‘mhm’ in agreement.

Matt put his hand in Edens and she pulled him up. ‘’Where are we going?’’ he asked, his movements were slower than Eden’s in the heat.

‘’A walk,’’ Eden said as she led him to the kitchen. She first opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of ice cold water then handed it to Matt as he looked at the time on the microwave, it’s glowing green telling him it was two in the morning. He sighed thinking it was a long way from morning but still the weather on the news had said it would be an equally hot day if not hotter. Eden hesitated to close the fridge door because the cool air felt so good against her hot skin. She was wearing an old t-shirt Matt had given her and they took the scissors to it, cutting the sleeves off and widening the neck area for her to be cooler. She really didn’t mind the heat but this? This was something else. She felt for everyone else because if she was feeling it, they must have been suffering.

They slipped out the door quietly into the night, ‘’Should I put a t shirt on?’’ Matt asked

‘’Show me one man who has a shirt on in this weather and I’ll give him a thousand dollars,’’ Eden said

‘’Does that include me and does it still stand until we get back?’’ Matt asked

Eden giggled and smacked his tight ass, ‘’always,’’ she said

‘’Where are we going?’’ Matt asked and slipped his hand into Eden’s. Their fingers intertwined and he lifted their hands and then gave her hand a kiss. ‘’Thanks for this, it is slightly better out here.’’

She smiled at Matt, ‘’the park,’’ Eden said simply

The moon was full and illuminated the way for them. It was quiet but for the water lapping to the shore. The roads were dead and the park deserted. People had either passed out from the heat or were sitting in front of fans hoping to cool down. The park was relatively close to the house, but hidden and nestled amongst trees. Eden led Matt to the swings and Matt sat on one while she sat on the other, right next to him. She started swinging softly while Matt only moved back and forth slightly keeping his feet on the ground. He took a sip of water and offered Eden some, but she declined, with a shake of her head and a warm smile.

‘’Matt? Remember that park we went to at Evan’s house?’’ Eden asked and stopped the swing, then got off, ‘’you know, when he had that party?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Matt said as he put the bottle of water on the ground, and then it hit him. His eyes went big and a smile formed on his face. How could he have forgotten that?

‘’Yeah?’’ she asked and bit her bottom lip

‘’Fuck yes. Hop on,’’ Matt said and she squealed softly with excitement as she grabbed the chains and lifted herself onto Matt’s lap, sliding her legs over his as she sat down, her legs handing over his on the side of the swing. Matt smiled because the last time they had fumbled a lot trying to work out how to do it but now they seemed to have mastered it. Well…they were going to find out.

‘’How did I get so lucky?’’ Matt asked her softly

Eden smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek and tilted his face up a fraction, ‘’I’m the lucky one,’’ Eden whispered and lightly brushed her lips against his.

Her hand slid down his neck, his chest, and then her fingers danced above the shorts elastic as Matt deepened the kiss. It was never pedestrian. His kisses always made her feel desired and wanted. She got drunk on their kisses. Matt moaned into the kiss and Eden felt his hands by hers. She knew he was getting impatient so she moved her hand and brought it to her pussy and moved her panties to the side while he pushed his shorts down as much as he could. The small piece of material was wet already and she felt Matt’s cock, now free of his shorts, as hard as a rock. That alone sent every nerve in her body tingling. His hands found the thin straps of the sleep shirt and he pushed them down, over her shoulders. Eden smiled into the kiss and pulled her arms out of the straps, letting the material fall softly around her middle. Matt broke the kiss, eager to get a nipple into his hungry mouth. She moaned, dropping her head back, and arched her back, pushing her titties forward so Matt could take in more. He was a genius with his tongue, no matter where he placed it on her body. Eden bit her bottom lip and slid her hand between them and closed her hand around Matt’s thick shaft. She smiled wickedly because his pre-cum had run down his shaft, leaving him slick. He sucked in a breath from the touch to his painfully erect dick but it felt so fucking good. Eden lifted herself, aimed his dick at her tight little entrance and then slid onto his dick agonizingly slowly, savoring every inch going in. Both Eden and Matt groaned lowly with simultaneous pleasure.

‘’Oh god Eden,’’ Matt moaned, ‘’you have no idea how good that feels.’’

‘’Oh, but I do,’’ Eden said with a grin and licked her hand of the pre-cum, making Matt swear under his breath. ‘’Start swinging. We don’t want to be caught,’’ she purred

‘’I’ve been wanting to fuck you all day’’ Matt said curling his hands around the chains,’’this won’t take long.’’

Eden smiled as she also gripped the chains, the cool metal making her more aroused, ‘’me too, babe.’’

Matt laughed and pushed them back with his legs and then let them fall forward as he tucked his legs back. He was sure going to have one hell of a workout keeping the swing in motion, but she knew without a doubt that he could handle it. They were soon gliding through the air, back and forth. Every time they went back, Eden would slide down his dick and when they got to the furthest point, having to go back down, she would push down on him as forces of nature and gravity worked. Eden moaned loudly with sheer pleasure every time that happened and Matt groaned feeling himself deep inside of her tight, wet pussy. When they went back down, Eden was lifted up, his dick sliding halfway out, exposing him to the cooler air, then he would slip back into her hot pussy. The contrast of heat and cool air in motion sent a pleasant shiver up his spine, never feeling anything like it. Matt loved everything – the way they had to be so close, the way they molded into each other, the fact that they had to rely upon and trust each other. The tightness around his hard throbbing cock, the way her hair flew behind her and fanned when they went up, and then around her when they went back down and he loved the look on her face with her breasts firm in front of him. He wanted to touch them, grab them but he couldn’t. Fuck! It was the most blissful torture ever. The deep penetration on the up was something different than normal penetration. It was a force that could only be achieved in their current position and situation.

Matt could tell she was close as her pussy started fluttering his cock, her body got tense and she dropped her head. ‘’Ooh, Matt…shit, Matt…’’ Eden said with urgency as she felt her muscles tightening, the rush coursing through her and pure ecstasy shoot over her body, and she let her one hand go from the chains, putting it around Matt’s shoulders. She pushed her face into the side of his neck as her walls clasped around Matt like a vice grip. The sheer strength around him set him on the very edge. Eden’s loud scream’s and moans were muffled as she buried her face into his neck and shoulder. She let go of the chains with her other hand to grip onto him tighter looking for more purchase, as Matt brought them to a stop. Her fingers dug into his muscles and her body shook against him. Once they were stationary Matt grabbed Eden’s ass and lifted her, then pushed her back down on his cock.

‘’FUCK YES, EDEN,’’ Matt moaned and he felt a wetness on his skin. The sound of Edens moans, the feel of her skin, her smell was so intoxicating to Matt as he slammed her down on him again and let out a growl as he felt his orgasm shoot out from the base of his balls and run through him. Eden lifted her face and they locked eyes for a second, before her eyes went big and she sucked in a breath.

‘’Kiss me,’’ Matt said through clenched teeth knowing she was coming yet again. Matt wanted to scream as loud as Eden because it was incredible but he knew he couldn’t as her walls locked around him again. He shot a massive load into Eden, rope after rope, after rope. After having to hold it in all day, wanting her all day….it built up. Eden pushed her lips to his, their tongues immediately meeting. The kiss muffled most of her screams and moans but a few escaped into the quiet night. Neither cared at the very moment. Matt’s dick twitched at the last spray into her pussy, and Eden still rammed herself down onto him two more times before she slumped onto him, breaking the kiss. Matt slid his arms around her and they sat like that for five minutes, panting, trying to catch their breath. In the distance they heard laughter, and Matt slowly slid his hands back down Eden’s back as she sat up straight again. He found the straps of her shirt and then pulled them up, Eden pushing her arms into them. He then let the straps rest on her shoulders and pulled out of her warm, wet, over-flowing pussy, letting out a groan not wanting to leave the warm confines of her tight pussy, but having to.

Matt looked over Eden’s shoulder and she turned her head as they heard low talking in the distance. A couple was walking on the sidewalk across the road but they knew the couple couldn’t see them, and that they had the vantage point. Clearly two lovers where out on a walk also trying to escape the heat. They were in the distance, but Eden could tell they were holding hands and very much into each other. They watched them disappear into a thick of trees and Eden turned back to Matt.

Matt smiled and gave her a half nod, ‘’they should try the swings,’’ he said and Eden burst out laughing. She pushed a hand between them and pulled her panties back into place and then grabbed the chains and weakly pulled herself up and climbed off of Matt. As her feet hit the ground, she tried to stand, but her legs buckled and Matt grabbed her to stop her falling.

‘’I’m fucking spent,’’ Eden said with laugh

‘’That was…something else. Fucking amazing’’ Matt said through his own laugh

‘’You’re a mess,’’ she said

‘’So are you,’’ Matt said with a laugh. They were both covered in sweat with a combination of their cum and juices sticking to them, their hair matted but looking so satisfied and elated.

She looked down and saw some of Matt’s cum running down her leg. She smiled and took her index finger and ran it up the zigzag line it had formed, collecting it. She then lifted her finger to her mouth and licked it off.

Matt smiled, ‘’your so fucking hot,’’ he said, noting she didn’t do that for him, she did it for herself. She wanted to taste him, to savour him.

Eden let her eyes fall back on Matt as she swallowed and smiled. ‘’I can clean you up,’’ she said

‘’Not this time. You can hardly stand, we’ll take a quick shower when we get home,’’ Matt said and somewhere along the line, Matt had put his dick away and fixed his shots because he pulled her down onto his lap.

‘’Do you feel better?’’ Eden asked Matt softly

‘’You have no idea. Thank you,baby. I love you so much’’ Matt said and gave her a kiss.

‘’Good,’’ Eden said and ran her fingertips along his stubbly jaw, ‘’I love you too’’.

‘’I’ll piggy back you home,’’ Matt said and smiled to himself because he had the best little vixen saint and she was the remedy he needed.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! YOU ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED <3

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you

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bloodyymaryyy · 3 months

Text

Gossip girl xoxo ~

F1 grid x driver! Reader

Side note : I don't know why it took me so long to write this but here we go

The reader is a driver on red bull at checo's place

Request : no

Part 2 /part 3 / masterlist

It all started when y/n a young talented woman joined the f1 in red bull racing, having won 2 World titles at f2 finally getting the recognition she deserved.

When she was younger she looked up on a lot of drivers that had retired by the time she joined at 2019 like Sebastian Vettle, Lewis Hamilton, Fernando Alonso, Michel Schumacher, Niki lauda and a few others.

Having her room filled with posters, signed photos, cups, shirts, pictures of her and her idols, paddock passes and everything.

Her childhood crush on Jenson Button was a best kept secret,. Very few knew about her crush and she preferred it that way because it was going to be awkward because if it got out, because come on they work together in a sense, he had interviewed her multiple times.

Driving along side max both at 17 had both good days and bad, with competition racing against your idols, your friends was a bit of a struggle in the beginning but as the months passed they all learned to not take whatever happens on the track outside of it and then she and a few others like Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, Pierre and some other people getting more serious with the races.

The fans favourite moments were when before they race they waving at one other from inside of their cockpits, or traditions they did before the race, or even when they gathered around gossiping when and if they could whenever they were. Outside at a cafe? Yes!, at their hang outs? Yes!, at their grid walks? Yep! And the fan favs at press conference and before the races. Twitter going crazy about that.

There are so many talks.

When you spend almost half of your time on a place With so many people, either loud or whispers you Will learn so many things and hear so many things which you probably shouldn't hear or know but it's hard to not acknowledge them like an engineer from Mercedes fucked someone from redbull in hopes of learning information about the car so Mercedes could be better.

Or that a redbull engineer got his wife little sister and best friend pregnant the same month that he got his wife pregnant With his second child.

Some times you hear rumor regardless of whether that may be true or not....

Christian horner talking and fucking a girl from his team which when you learned that you didn't know what to do because Christian was a father figure to you and Max having shity fathers. Be cautious when you were around him? Desapointed? Sad? Or disgusted? You didn't know for sure either way and you went to max first with the information you had. At first he was just like you. A wave of emotions washed over him like it did to you, then you both discuss and decided on what to do and that was to wait and see if it's true or not, to not tell anyone nor his wife which you were close to or anyone for that matter and never mentioned it again... Verbally anyway when you saw him texting someone in the presence of his wife you exchanged looks, knowing looks or side eyeing each other when you saw them together talking a few meters from everyone else whispering . Which a few months later the texts of them were linked and you learned that a week or so from the first race of the season when you were tagged in a post about it

(Side note: I took actual tweets of that because I can't be bothered to make fake ones but also I am trying to edit it to have her be mentioned in them)

Hey I am gonna do a part 2 because it doesn't let me put more than 10 so.... Sorry

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non-stop-imagines · 10 months

Text

On Display

From this request 💖

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Black Younger!Reader (10 years difference) (Taylor Russell face claim)

Word Count: ~4.6k words w/ 1 smau post

Warning: Porn with a plot somewhere in there, Dom!Daniel, Brat!Reader, p in v, Exhibitionisn (sex against a window), overstimulation, an attempt at writing dumification, Humiliation, brief breeding kink moment, mention of food, one mention of birth control, The word "slut" being used quite a bit 😵‍💫Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: Writing smut is always an adventure and this is no different. The funny thing about this is that I used writing this to destress from work all week so have fun imagining writing this while on my lunch break in the break room 👍🏿. But really, thank you for the request, all of the requests I've done already and the requests I've recently gotten that I can't wait to do. You guys are crazy creative and I love to see what you guys come up with it if literally my favorite. 😁💗 Anyway, hope you guys like this. Let me know what you think. Like, reblogs, reply, send asks, talk to me!♥️ Love you all!! 💖💛💖💛💖

Masterlist

___________________*~♥~*__________________

danielricciardo

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danielricciardo Yn sent me random pictures of her and then started crying when I didn't immediately post them. I'm such a bad boyfriend 💔

imynbitch tagged

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imynbitch I stopped crying, didn't I? 😘

> danielricciardo I'll do better in the future

user Yn is That Girl and she just wants everyone to know

yukitsunoda0511 Yeah, you messed up 🤷🏻‍♂️

> imynbitch Thank you, Yuki. I don't know how much longer I can handle such a lack of attention 🥺😔

> danielricciardo Both of you shut up

user All of her looks are so iconic I can't choose which is my fav 😍

user Daniel is the only person that can handle an attitude like YN's. I'm glad they found each other 🥲

___________

Thursdays were boring when it came to race weekends for you, but you loved to tag along, staying around your boyfriend when you could and hanging out in the Alpha Tauri motorhome or next to a window in the paddock building that had a view of the track, which was where you were today. Both Alpha Tauri drivers were taking some lucky fans for a spin in a Honda, of which you were oblivious and uncaring of the model, around the Silverstone track. You would look up from your phone every once in awhile, whenever you heard the the roar of an engine approaching or squealing wheels, but one fateful time caused you to put your phone face down on the table you sat at and stalk to the large window, close enough to see the atrocity happening. It was the last fan Daniel had to drive around the track, a girl around your age, 24, maybe a bit older, whose hands were all over your boyfriend's arms, and your brain went haywire when Daniel's hand ventured to the girl's lower back, which for him was instinctual as he guided her into the car. You didn't even watch them leave the starting line before you picked up your things (your phone, smaller purse and garage pass) and headed down to the garage, crossing the people filled pitlane and ending at the pit wall, placing your face in a window of the fence without chain link. You wanted to love the smile on Daniel's face when he gets out of the car after his trip around the track and sees you, but your view was interrupted by "her", who meets Daniel halfway at the front of the car, giddily hooking her arm around Daniel's as he walks her your direction.

"Hey, baby. Uh, this is Jennifer, one of the lucky winners of a trip around the track with me." Daniel unhooks his arm from the brunette, stepping to the side a bit as she greets you.

"Hi! Ugh, I just love you! You're one of my favorite wags." She holds out her hand for you to shake, and at first you just scowl at the outstretched manicured hand, but after a brief glance at Daniel giving you a stern “What do we say?” look, you take hold of the hand, shaking hers with little to no tension in your hand.

“Thank you. I, uh, like your nails. They’re my favorite color, light blue." There was absolutely no feeling in your voice, but the compliment you gave was like a diamond ring to Jennifer. You cut your eyes over to Daniel, who gets the hint and begins to lead Jennifer away, that blasted hand on her back, a little higher this time, but still there.

“How about you head back over to the group? Let them know I’ll be over in a moment. I’ll be sure to get an extra picture with you, okay?” That smile. It flashed only at “her”, and you could see the slut’s knees get weak. You wanted to cry, seeing that flirty demeanor from Daniel that reeled you in day one, but focused toward someone else.

"Okay! It was so nice meeting you!" She waves back at you, you responding with a constipated grin, before heading towards the group of fans waiting to take pictures with their favorite drivers.

"Are you okay?" Daniel had an amused grin on his face. This isn't the first time you've acted like this. He knew exactly why you were pouting and had glossy eyes.

"I'm fine" You refuse to look at him, instead watching as "Jennifer" walked up to a member of the media team, probably to tell them that Daniel would be over in a minute. You knew that one glance at Daniel would send the tears you were currently holding back cascading down your face.

"You sure?" Daniel reaches to your face poking through the window in the fence, using your chin to turn your face towards his.

"I said I'm fine!" One tear escaped your eye and was wiped away with Daniel's thumb.

"Okay, okay, baby. I know." He looks at his watch, then over at the group of fans, then back to you. "You head back to the hotel, okay? I'll be done in a couple hours. Make sure you eat something, too." You nod hesitantly at his orders then pucker your lips for him to place a kiss on, which he supplements with another, more tongue involved kiss. When he pulls back he looks at you, eyes shifting back and forth and lips grinning at your still glossy eyes. After one last kiss, this time on your forehead, he finally jogs back over to the group, and though the petty, irrational voice in your head is telling you to stay and keep an eye on "Jennifer" around your man, you follow Daniel's instructions and head back through the garage so you can leave the paddock and head back to the hotel.

_________

"A couple of hours, my ass." You mumble to yourself as you exit the bathroom of the hotel suite. It's been nearly 4 hours since you left the track, and the nagging explanation that you had for Daniel’s tardiness was Jennifer and the "Fuck me" eyes that you felt she was giving Daniel. You wanted to feel happy when you heard the mechanical click of the hotel door unlocking, and deep down you were, you loved to have your boyfriend around. But instead you stayed planted in the armchair next to the large window.

"Still mad, huh?" Daniel plants a kiss on the top of your head despite your attempt to move out of the way.

"Well, huh, I don't know. How would you feel if some slut kept making 'fuck me' eyes at your boyfriend and you had to just watch?" You don't look up from your phone as you rant, tapping through Alpha Tauri's Instagram story getting small glimpses at the slut in question.

"Really?" Daniel's words came out as a chuckle that irritated you enough to make you get up and stomp over to the bathroom with him.

"Don't laugh at me! It's like you never take me seriously!" Daniel continues with what he was doing, removing his shoes and placing them in the closet and then removing his shirt to hang it up.

"I'm laughing because I know you're serious, and it's ridiculous." There's a hysterical laugh behind his words that gives you the impression that he's poking fun at you, which he was, but not in the negative way you thought that prompted tears to your eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“No, you think it’s ridiculous for me not to want to share my boyfriend!” You whine, stamping your foot on the ground, the childish act finally making Daniel turn around and take hold of your face. You looked pitiful with your cheeks squished and eyes red from your crying tantrum.

“No one is asking you to share me.” You let out a defiant grunt to his nonchalant response and he shakes your head with the firm grasp he had on your face. “Why would I want to go anywhere else when my dumb, little baby has the best pussy in the world. Only an idiot would give that up.” He finally lets go of your face and walks back into the bedroom, and you just silently follow him out, but stay by the bathroom door. You watch him pace around the front of the bed, frustrated with your attitude, running his hands through messy curly hair, accentuating the tone of his slim, tattooed, bare upper body. “No, don’t shut up now. Where’s all that whining?” You stayed still, pouting and crossing your arms. “Come here.” You follow directions, walking slowly to Daniel, arms still crossed in attempted defiance, knowing that any action of Daniel's, punishment or otherwise, would break down your defenses. You don't know what you expected, but you know the last thing was the tattooed hand at the junction between your neck and your chin, roughly bringing your face up to meet a sensual, sloppy kiss. It was as though you were magnetized to his movements, having no hesitation in accepting the tongue he presented the first kiss, meeting each entanglement and the amount of force transferred between your lips.

"Look at my sloppy little baby. So eager for me to show her that I only have eyes for her." Daniel moved his hand from your neck to just at your jawline, using his thumb to wipe the residual saliva from your lips and then, from spontaneous thought, pushes his thumb into them, to which you willingly accept the appendage into your mouth, earning a twisted grin from your boyfriend. He just watches as you suck on his thumb, head bobbing slightly as if you were giving him a blowjob. One of your hand begin to move on their own down to Daniel's jeans to unbutton them, but it's captured in his other hand as he removes his thumb from your mouth and smears the spit that you lathered on it along your lips. "Ah ah ah. Whiny little brats don't get to touch their boyfriend's dick."

"But-" Daniel uses his grip on your face to bring it back up so he can kiss you again, a light one this time, short in duration that made you lean forward once it was done, aching for more

"No, buts." With one hand on your face and the other grasping the fiendish hand that tried to get into his pants, Daniel takes a step back, admiring your attire. It was simple. A tight, white cami and baggy plaid pajama shorts. But it was what was underneath, or rather what wasn't underneath, that sent him reeling. “You’re not wearing anything underneath this comfy, little ensemble, huh? Did you do that for me?” You don’t answer, just hold the intense eye contact with him, a subtle scowl on your face. In response to your persistent defiance Daniel moves the hand that was on your face back to your neck, applying enough pressure to make your head feel lighter and for you to take a small gasp of air. “Use your words.”

“Yes. Yes.” You words came out breathless and panicked, to which Daniel removed his hands from your body, satisfied with the small answer you gave.

“And you called that poor girl a slut.” Daniel chuckles, and you just look at him with scrunched eyebrows, upset at the fact that the girl you were worried about was brought up again.

"Because she was." You grumbled this to yourself, since Daniel had already made his way to the unobstructed window.

"Whatever you want to believe, sweetheart." He only partially turned his head back towards you to respond to your rebuttal then turned his attention back to the window. "You think anyone can see us up here?" You shrug and hum your unsureness, making your way over to where Daniel was, standing just behind him.

"I mean, maybe if they're trying to look. We are pretty high up." You answer quietly. Daniel stays put, looking out of the window, but eventually turns around, that twisted grin back on his face.

"Good enough." He takes a step towards you and you tilt your head, confused with the implication hidden in those two words. "If I'm gonna show my cute little brat that she's the only one for me, might as well show the world that I only have eyes for you, cutie." Daniel gives you a quick peck between your raised eyebrows, then one to your lips, a preliminary kiss that preceded a second, more desperate kiss, which was repeated with increasing desperation, only being interrupted for mere seconds to remove articles of clothing, and in no time you and Daniel were completely bare to each other, making out and slowly moving toward the window. "You're fucking gorgeous." Your back was pressed up against the cold glass of the window, the change in temperature causing a combined gasping moan to come from your mouth. "And you make the prettiest noises, my love." You want to take in the glorious sight that is your boyfriend completely naked, tattoo sprinkled around his body that you love to kiss. You wanted to touch him, give him pleasure, but the coldness of the window, the sensation of Daniel's tongue now swirling and lips sucking at one of your nipples, physically feeling yourself get wetter, took that desire and tossed it to the side, and now you were chasing your own pleasure. Daniel's hands had pulled you in, one squeezing your ass and the other on your middle back, trying to bring your boob further into his mouth while using his body to continue to push you into the window.

"Danny…" You moan out his shortened name, tossing your head back, some of your gathered up hair springing free from confinement.

"Shh, dumb little babies don't speak unless they're spoken to." Daniel moved away from your chest back to your lips, swallowing the whine you let out from the loss of contact and then the moans you let out from the kiss. "Do you know how much I love your tits? They're absolutely perfect." He swoops his head back down to kiss your breasts, just the tops and in-between, slowly, sensually. "Let's just show the world how perfect they are." Daniel grasps your hips and spins you so your front pressed against the glass of the window, the abruptness of the action making it easier for him to do so because you had no chance to resist. You both knew the window was tinted, sure to a certain extent, but with tint and the fact that you two were mere floors away from the top floor, it was highly unlikely anyone saw you. But you could see out, clearly, and just the feeling of you being bare and open to the world like this makes you hornier than you even expected. Daniel comes up behind you and presses his body into your's, a hand at your pelvis and a hand grasping your hand that braces you against the window, fingers intertwined, placing his head on your shoulder. "What was that you were gonna say earlier?" As Daniel waits for your answer, he takes his socked foot and widens your legs ever so slightly.

"I need you. So bad. Please, fuck me." You were already breathing deeply from your arousal, and also partially due to the limited range of motion for your expanding lungs due to your current position against the glass.

"Wow, that was much more than I expected. I just thought my dumb little slut would just say 'Fuck me' and that's it. But that was fucking poetic." You could hear the frantic slight annoyance in Daniel's voice as he removes his hand from your pelvis to grasp himself, placing his dick between your legs right at your pussy, fucking your thighs a couple of times to lather up the wetness practically leaking from you before pulling all the way back and placing himself at your entrance. "Brace yourself." You did somewhat, but you wished you took his words more seriously because the force at which pressed his dick inside of you wasn't harsh or too fast, he knew better, but it was steady and gave you little time to adjust to having him inside your pussy as he bottomed out just as quick as he entered you. You simultaneously let out a moan that rivaled a porn star's as your face hit the glass, the abrupt sensation making your mind do cartwheels. Daniel's hand that had a hold on yours snaked away from your hand and under your, now back to, outstretched arms to reach under your chin, guiding your face up so he could give you another frantic, sloppy unfocused kiss before kissing your forehead. "Sorry, baby."

You didn't care. Even while he was apologizing for making you hit your face on the glass, Daniel continued to move his hips, thrusting slowly in and out of you, still causing you to let out lewd whiny moans. "Yes, baby. Keep making those pretty noises for me, okay? No one can make me go as crazy as you do with just a moan. No one. Fuck..." A harsh sting on your butt presents itself after Daniel's rambling of words, to which he responds by slowly massaging the the location at which his hand landed on you and proceeding to kiss your neck, happy with the mild scream you let out from the spontaneous action. He keeps thrusting into you at a steady, forceful rhythm. Snapping his hips into your ass and then dragging his dick out of you. Snap. Drag. Snap. Drag. He knew he wanted more from you, so he brought his left hand that was at your pelvis down to your clit, using the juices squelching from your pussy as lubrication for the fast, circular rubbing of the nub.

"Aha, shit. Danny…fuck." You blindly reach behind your head with your right hand, knocking into Daniel's solid right arm that was back against the glass, clumsily finding its way to the back of Daniel's head, which he nuzzles further into your neck for easier access to the location, moving your hands up until you reach some curls to grasp.

"You like being on display for everyone? Everyone seeing exactly how much of a slut you are for me?" He takes a small step forward, pushing your tits into the glass of the window more, changing the angle of your bodies slightly so his dick runs along each spot inside of you longer with each drag. "Answer."

"Mhm. Ev'ryone knows I'm yours. And you're mine." Your words don't match the innocent face that you give him, eyes wide and lips pouting and somewhat parted, shiny and swollen from the incessant kissing.

"Still so bold even when I'm fucking you against the window for everyone to see. That's why I love you." He flashed a giant smile at you before capturing your lips again at the same time as a harsh snap of his hips, producing from you a loud startled moan. He keeps thrusting and rubbing your clit, both paces steady. He can feel you go slightly limp from exhaustion due to how quick the intensity of the act got to maximum, so he adjusted, taking a step back so you were no longer against the window and bringing the arm previously holding him up against the window to reach across your torso, hand coming up to roll your nipple between two fingers.

" 'm gonna cum. Can't hold it. Feels too good." You keep your grasp on Daniel's head but look away, dropping your head down, getting a somehow X-Rated view of Daniel's tattooed hand rubbing your clit. As you said, it was all too much and soon your legs were giving out and trembling beneath you, to which Daniel takes a step forward again to brace himself on the window again, moving his other hand to your abdomen.

“That was a big one. You okay?” He turns you around and holds you steady by your ass, searching for your eyes and waiting for your answer.

“Mhm.” You look up at him, eyes blinking lazily as your mind swirls around with the pleasure you just received. Your out-of-it response, which was adorable to Daniel, earned you another batch of sloppy tongue filled kisses.

“Good, cause we’re not done.” Before you could protest or retort, Daniel’s lips were back on yours, your bodies slowly making their way over to the bed, the back of Daniel’s legs hitting the structure being him you guys' only indication that you made it to your destination. You were chasing his kisses now, so he had to put you at arms length again to speak. “Ass in the air, my love.” You didn’t follow directions, just stood on your tiptoes, puckering your lips for another kiss. “If I give you a kiss, will you follow instructions?” You nod and then climb in the bed kneeling on it so you were eye level with him, then bring him in from the back of his head, you now dominating this kiss, subconsciously showing anyone that has shown any remote interest in your boyfriend exactly who he belongs to. Once you pull away, a string of spit briefly connecting you two, you slowly get into position, wiggling your ass as you wait. The lack of sight was exhilarating, making you even more wet when you felt the bed dip and Daniel rub his dick along your highly exposed pussy. With a hand on your lower back, Daniel pushes inside you and you groan into the pillow you had your face buried in.

“Fuck, you feel so good like this.” He starts with a gentle pace, allowing your juices to really coat his dick to help it slide in and out better, and as his pace quickens, your groans prolong, still feeling sensitive from your earlier orgasm. “Ha, I can’t believe you thought I would even think about getting rid of this pussy. You really are just a dumb. Little. Brat.” With those last three words, harsh thrusts were supplemented with some more sharp smacks on your butt. His own carnal sensations take over for a moment, just focusing on chasing his own climax, but at a certain point he tilts to the side to look at you, still thrusting. He smiles at the picture of beauty in front of him, your drooping eyelids, slightly parted mouth with a small bit of drool falling onto the pillow, unsecured curls sticking to your sweaty forehead, and exhausted whimpers falling from your mouth. “You look so pretty, baby, all fucked out from my cock.” He keeps moving, speeding up as he gets closer and you also get wordlessly closer to another orgasm, but once Daniel feels himself get more frantic, more animalistic, he stops and pulls out of you, to your dismay, and flips you over onto you back. You kept the same face, brain clouded by desire for another orgasm, and your chest heaving from deep breathing as Daniel worked to get you in position. He kneeled between your legs, pushing them up toward your head, hooking your knees in the crooks of his arms, letting go just so he could guide himself back into you, then continuing the same brutal pace that shocks you for a moment, but then your brain goes numb, mouth hanging open, allowing whatever noises you make to come out uninhibited. “Look at that pretty face you're making for me,” He reaches down and squishes our face, abandoning one of legs to do so. “You think I would want to leave this face?” He bends down to kiss you, stretching your hip and pushing his dick deeper inside you to do so. You had no choice in the matter to kiss him, your lips were already puckered from his hand squeezing your face and your brain couldn't think of anything past cumming again from your boyfriend’s cock, but you still let out a moaning gasp from the intense mixture of sensation. Once Daniel pulls back, he seems to put complete and utter focus on fucking you, hard. “Do you know how much of a brat you were today?” He took your legs and wrapped them around his waist so he could bring his hands down next to your head and get a clear view of your face. “All because you didn’t want to share. And now here you are, being fucked in front of windows, from behind, just so you know that there is no other pussy I would rather fuck. My poor insecure little brat.” You couldn’t respond. You wanted to. Wanted to be snarky back, but everything felt too good, sensitive, and you were too close to cumming to think of anything to say except warning him of your upcoming climax.

“Danny…cum…” You held eye contact with him for the first time in a while, biting your bottom lip hard and begging him with glossy eyes. He just smiles maniacally at you and makes his thrusts rougher, knowing that he was coming close to his own end.

“After such mean words, too? You really are just a little slut for me.” He moves his arms around so he could be stable on one arm in order to reach down and rub your clit, causing you to make the loudest, unabashed moans until you finally got over your hump and came, hips bucking into Daniel’s, back arching, and hands bundling up what you could of the bedding. The rhythmic convulsions happening inside you during your orgasm were working to bring Daniel closer to his own, evident in the groan that he let out just as they started. He continued to fuck you through your climax, but purely for the sake of cumming too, his steady rhythm becoming frantic and unpredictable. “Why don’t we try out that implant, huh? I’m gonna cum in you so much it’ll be leaking out and we’ll see if you end up all round from me. That sounds fun, huh?” You weren’t listening at all, brain going haywire from the continued stimulation to your sensitive pussy, so Daniel’s words were truly just to bring him up and into his own climax, fucking into you wildly as he came inside your pussy, bending over to kiss all over your fucked out face as he did so. Once he came down a bit he removed himself from you and found enough strength to prop up onto his side in order to watch his cum leak from you, gently caressing your aching pussy to help you come down. “You did a good job. I hope now you know that I’m yours forever, okay?” He looks up at your face to see that you seemed to have fallen asleep, unquestioningly exhausted from the night's festivities. Daniel just chuckles and kisses your forehead. “I guess we’ll talk later.” He does what he needs to clean you and himself up enough to sleep comfortably, then climbs back into bed and rolls you into him so that your head is on his chest, and caresses your back until he falls blissfully into sleep with you.

_________

When you finally woke up it was nearly 10:30 in the morning. The room was quiet and the curtains to the windows were drawn so very little sunlight made it into the room. You reach behind yourself to the nightstand beside the bed, finding your phone that was conveniently plugged in and now fully charged. There was a text from Daniel.

Danny💙

Had to leave for the track pretty early. There's donuts out in the kitchenette-thing and iced coffee in the fridge. Make sure you eat real food when you get here. 😘

You smile coyly to yourself, then type out an answer you knew he wouldn't see until after you got to the track anyway.

Thank you, baby. See you soon 💗

You take a moment to fully wake up, stretch out your body, then get up to find and put on the pajamas that were carelessly tossed to the side last night before tiredly stalking out to see a rectangular box of 3 assorted donuts and a white tulip next to them, your favorite flower. You then make your way over to the refrigerator, flower in hand, opening it to see the aforementioned iced coffee, pulling it out and then grabbing one of the donuts before heading back to the bedroom to get ready for the rest of the Saturday.

#black reader #request #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 imagines #f1 fake text #f1 smut #f1 smau #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x black reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #Daniel Ricciardo scenario #scenario

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elihashadenough · 4 months

Text

Pairing: max verstappen x male reader (could be read by masc presenting people)

Summary: sometimes things go right in the moment but will they always be right? can they survive through the hardships of love? can their love hold the test of a treacherous path of love?

a/n: part 4 is here, i just wanted to take a moment and just say thank you to everyone showing love to all of my fics and yeah i hope you enjoy it :)

-> do not repost, copy or translate my works nor post them anywhere else. Read at your own risk. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated.

[series masterlist]

www.formula1news/redbulldriversinaromanticrelationship

Prepare yourselves for a revelation that could rock the foundations of the racing world. Fresh off yesterday's adrenaline-pumping race, an anonymous source has spilled the beans with compelling evidence, painting a scandalous picture of Redbull's rivalry duo. Forget podium celebrations; the two Redbull drivers weren't just celebrating their victories to an entirely unexpected level, engaging in intimate moments, sharing more than just victories. Brace yourselves, folks, because it appears the track rivalry has taken an unexpected turn into the realm of romance.

The whispers of the newfound romance between the two Redbull drivers are rippling through the media. Forget the professional facade; it seems that the thrill of victory has ignited a different kind of spark between the two Redbull racers. The photos and evidence speak volumes, capturing elusive moments that beg the question: are they more than just teammates?

In the cutthroat world of Formula 1, where rivalries are forged on the track, this off-track revelation is bound to send shockwaves. 'Friends' don't usually blur the lines between celebration and intimacy, and this newfound closeness could spell trouble for the Redbull team. With both star drivers romantically entangled, the impact on their on-track performance and the team dynamic is poised to be nothing short of sensational this season.

As the smokescreen of camaraderie lifts, the real question arises: will the on-track rivalry morph into a personal one? The last race already provided a glimpse into the friction between the drivers, and it seems the drama is just getting started. Will the asphalt become the stage for not only racing prowess but also a battleground for love and tension?

And let's not forget the intrigue surrounding Y/n, whose rumoured involvement with the Redbull driver were put to rest by his manager a couple seasons ago. One cannot help but think could this 'relationship' be the catalyst behind Y/n's abrupt shift from Ferrari to Redbull? The pieces of this scandalous puzzle are falling into place, unveiling a narrative that transcends the not so typical drama of the racing world.

Examining their career trajectories adds fuel to the fire. Y/n's journey began with a bang, securing P2 in his final Formula 2 race before joining McLaren in the 2016 season. After a brief stint, he spent seven years with Ferrari before the unexpected transfer to Redbull. Max, on the other hand, made his Formula 1 debut with Scuderia Toro Rosso in 2015, solidifying his place with Redbull in 2016 and staying put ever since.

The burning question remains: will this on-and-off track relationship sizzle into an exhilarating love story, or will it flame out in spectacular fashion? The impact on team dynamics and on-track relationships is poised to be monumental. Fasten your seatbelts, F1 fans – the next race might just be the battleground for love, rivalry, and everything in between. What are your predictions for this unprecedented twist in the Redbull saga? Share your thoughts as we watch this high-speed drama unfold on and off the track.

i haven't proof read this so if there were any mistakes, i'm sorry. But i hope you all enjoyed this, it took alot of effort and i'm very excited to post this. I hope you all have a wonderful day/night ❤️

tag list: @leosxrealm, @miloformula123fan

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#eli writes #f1 x male reader #x male reader #x ftm reader #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #f1 smau #max verstappen x ftm reader #max verstappen x male reader #max verstappen #treacherous fic

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dre6ming · 1 month

Text

Wedding plans -TDBR

Pairing: Austin Butler x reader

Warnings: none, fluff, a little crying

Plot: making wedding plans with Austin is so wholesome

Word count: ~1.9k

Masterlist

TDBR series

Tag list - add yourself

A/n: this was a request and I apologize it took me so long to fulfill it. Request are still open but keep in mind I’m very slow when it comes to posting, but feel free to send them

Thinking back to 9 years ago when you met Austin, you never thought you'd end up here, drowning in tulle and chiffon, laughing with your best friends, tripping over lace veils. "What do you think of this?" You make a little pirouette to show the ample skirt, feeling like a princess head to toe. "It's cute." Taylor says, drinking some lemonade, brushing her bangs back. "Yeah, it's nice" Roxanne adds clearly not loving the dress as well. "So it's not it!" You say dropping your arms at your sides, sighing heavily. "Maybe the next one?!" Timothee sounds hopeful, but part of you feels that is only because, this is the 10th time you all dedicate a day for dress shopping. "Ok I'll go try it!" You say a bit defeated, lifting the front of the dress so you don't trip. You take one more look at yourself in the mirror as you walk away, you liked this one, but to be fair you liked every single one before this one as well, they are all so different and unique, but they are simply not your dress.

The next dress you put on, gives you shivers. It's made of silk, with pleats and boning, accentuating your waist perfectly and the dropped shoulders make you look angelic and sexy at the same time. This is it. "I found it!" You squeal, coming out of the dressing room in a heist, giggling and kicking your feet happily.

"Wow!"

"OH my god this is it!"

"You look wonderful!"

"I'm going to cry!"

"Please don't cry mom!" You giggle, blinking back tears, as you turn around to take a look in the big mirrors. The dress hugs your waist, the silhouette complimenting you so beautifully, your breasts look amazing in it too and magically it's your size, so no alterations will be needed. "I can't believe it! I finally found it!" You say, your voice breaking as you still try very hard not to cry. Taylor comes up from behind you, hugging your shoulders and resting her chin on your shoulder, her eyes watch you through the mirror and you notice her glossy blue eyes, tears in them as well. "I can, because it was meant to be!" She sniffs, kissing your cheek before sticking a veil in you hair. You take a better look at it in the mirror, immediately panicking when you recognize the piece, starting to take it out of your hair, but Taylor stops you before you can.

"Taylor I can't, this is..."

"Your something borrowed!" She assures, smiling bright. The veil somehow works perfectly with the dress, like it was meant to be. Looking at it you remember as clear as now the day you saw Taylor in a boutique not much different from this one, find her dress and her veil. She got married to Joe wearing this, the memories of one of her best days are tied to this piece of material. "Ok ok..." you breathe out, smoothing your dress. "What about gloves? I know Taylor already gave you the veil, but mom insisted I give you these?" Timothee says, handing you a pair of silk gloves. "Thanks Timmy!" You say hugging him tight as you put them on. The look seems now complete and you feel complete.

You walk through the dark apartment, tip toeing, trying not to make too much noise, knowing Austin is probably asleep. He was away filming some projects for the past week and you were supposed to be here when he got home, but he insisted that you don't rush your day with the girls and Timmy. "Y/n?" You hear Austin's groggy voice and it stops you right in your tracks. "Baby?" You feel his arms circle your waist in the dark and your body turns to slime. He places a kiss on top of your head, inhaling your scent. "I missed you!" Austin tells you honestly, squeezing you so tight you think you might burst at the seams, but you love feeling like this, engulfed in him. "I missed you too!" You sigh into him , happy to feel him on you, rubbing your cheek on the soft hairs on his chest. "I found the dress." You announce , biting your lip excited for his reaction.

"The dress? You mean THE dress?" Austin takes a step back looking at your face, trying to see if you're lying. "The dress!" You nod, smiling at him. He grabs your face and smashes his lips onto yours. You let him take control, while his mouth dominates you, his tongue explores your mouth and your heart flutters in your chest. "Can I see?" He asks breathless, "No! It's bad luck!" You chuckle, shaking your head, threading your hands in his soft hair. "Hmm ok, then show me everything else you got done while I was gone?" He arches a brow, smirking at you. "Oh yes yes, come on!" You say jovially, grabbing his hand, dragging him to your shared bedroom to get your wedding binder.

"Ok so I got done with the sitting chart, I might have done it a little risky, but, it'll work." You open the glitter decorated binder and show him the sketch you made. "So we sit, Katy and Orlando at the same table as Tom and Daya, ok" Austin says, reading closely over the guests , seeing where your brain has decided that they each should sit. "And I thought we could get away with having Baz sit with your dad and sister, I mean it would be a family table, right?"

"Mhm, yes , it works, honestly this looks fine to me. But what about your mom and dad?" Austin asks, not being able to make full sense of the chart. "We'll have a long table, we sit in the middle, my bridesmaids of my side your groomsmen of yours, for dad I'm saving a seat at the table with Baz and your dad, he hasn't RSVP ed yet" you explain and he nods following your chain of thought. "Ok it sounds like a plan, I think it would work, but I think Ash wants to bring Robbie, would that be fine?" He asks, referring to his nephew. "Hm sure, then I'll have Baz and Cathrine as the table with Pedro, move around Roxy and Joshua, then Ashley and Robbie and Zac can sit with Joe" You try and Austin seems to consider it for a minute, even if he know he'll agree anyway. "Good thinking baby!" He admits and you move on to showing him the flowers you picked "No purple star flowers?" He asks, looking at the white gardenia bouquets, thinking how you left out your favorite flower. "I have a theme, ok? It's white and creams and stuff." You defend.

"But honey, I think we could play with the colors a bit, don't you?" Austin suggests and you swipe on the next doc, titled: back up flowers. "Are you sure they look fine, tho?" You question, fearing the white and purple bouquets would be too much or too out of theme. "There's my girl!" He says, kissing your cheek. "They look like something that should be at our wedding, don't they? The purple star flowers, the sunflowers and you even put my favorite in, the pink magnolias" Austin can be so over the top sometimes, but he's an actor, so that's so in character. "I wanted to have something from the both of us."

"Well I think it look so beautiful way better then the white boring ones you had as a first option" he argues. "Oh ok miss I know everything about flower arrangements" you joke, kissing him, throwing the binder to the side, turning to face him and straddling his hips. "I want it to be perfect!" You whisper, playing with the baby hairs around his forehead. Austin grins and pulls you closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "It's you I'm marrying, it's already perfect." His hands squeez your hips and you sigh, inhaling the smell of him. "I know, I can't believe it's happening!" You admit absentmindedly, drawing circles with the tip of your finger on his shoulder. Austin sighs and kisses your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin, leaving goosebumps down your spine. "Me neither." He admits, laying back on the pillow, with you on top of him, head resting on his heart. You enjoy the soft beat of it, as your cheek absorbs the heat of his skin. "I cried yesterday, in the shower." You tell him and he tenses underneath you. One of his hands moving from your waist to your chin, forcing you to look as him, his blue eyes wonder over your face, looking over every freckle, curve and shadow. "Why?"

Austin is a bit scared to ask, he fears you might get cold feet and put an end to all of this, which to be fair he wouldn't mind, he loved you ten years without you being he wife, he'd love you a thousand more just the same. "I'm scared, I - my parents made it sound like marriage ruined them. I don't want it to ruin us." Tears prickle your eyes as you speak, and his thumb caresses you cheek catching a falling tear. "It won't, we are not them, we love each other too much. Y/n I want you to marry me because I can't see a life without you, but I want you to know, if you even feel like this isn't what you want, I'll love you just as much for as long as I live." Austin confesses and you can't even find a speckle of doubt that he means every syllable spoken. "I want it, I want to have your name, I want to be your wife, I'm just defrosting my girlhood heart, cause I used to love weddings." You tell him, pulling closer to his face and connecting your lips to his soft ones, time standing still, as your bodies stay intertwined. "I know baby, take your time!" Austin says rubbing you back and you hide your face in the crook of his neck, yawning, which makes him chuckle. "Sleep mrs Butler, I'm home now!" Austin lulls you, pulling the duvet over the both of you, as you fall asleep on his chest, snoring softly.

"Have you written your vows?" You ask halfway asleep, which makes Austin laugh, knowing that no matter how tired you are you'll always make sure to have everything checked for the day, before letting your mind disconnect. "Oh my Virgo baby, ever so organized. I have!" He tells you in a low voice, barely above a whisper, hoping you'll finally let yourself sleep. "Hmm, can I hear them?" You ask, blabbering, Austin grins knowing your having the fight of your life to stay awake right now. "Yes, in a month on august 13th." You groan and wrap your arms around his neck, falling asleep without another word, and Austin does the same as he massages your back, the soft brush of your breath against his neck and the comforting weight of you on him, being his favorite sleep medicine.

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midnightsnyx · 7 months

Text

girl at home | mat barzal | part 5

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: swearing, angst, food, fluff, not edited word count: 2.3k authors note: it's my bday tmw and i am going out of town for the weekend so i wanted to get this posted!! also, i have no idea how pr management works so i def got everything wrong so pls don't yell at me lol i feel like this chapter is just like a roller-coaster that went off the tracks and blew up and someones trying to put it back together with tape from the dollar store so im sorry but i hope yall like it anyway and don't hate me pls <3 send your thoughts or come yell at me about this story bc I LOVE hearing from you guys!! It feeds my writing soul. thank u all for the love on this story so far and lmk if you wanna be added to my taglist. also thinking about doing some smau for this fic and wondering if you guys have any ideas or suggestions?

if you asked to be added to the taglist and didn't get tagged it's cause you didn't show up when i searched for you! so shoot me a msg and we can figure it out. also if you want to be added or taken off the taglist please let me know <3

requests are open. masterpost masterlist taglist form ask box

You didn’t think the situation with Mat’s statement could get any worse. You were already being pestered by your mom, your friends and even other parents at the day camps Nora attended. Mostly everyone knew that it was true that Mat was her father at that point so the statement caused questions to rise. Ignoring everybody’s opinions about it was easy but six simple words from Nora were what broke you.

“I thought Mat was my daddy,” she said softly while eating breakfast one morning. She had been quiet since the day before but it continued when she woke up the next morning. You thought maybe she was just moody and tired but it ended up being much more than that.

It took you a minute to answer, trying to figure out where she might have heard or been told that. It wasn’t that surprising that she might have gotten the impression that he was her dad considering how much time Mat had been spending with the two of you or she overheard a conversation. Kids are very perceptive but you couldn’t see how anyone would directly tell her about the public statement and you had been very careful about what you said around Nora and told everyone else to do the same.

Apparently someone didn’t get the memo.

You had two options. You could lie to Nora about what was going on or you could explain it in the best way you could to her. Lying to your daughter was the last thing you wanted to do but figuring out the easiest way to explain it so she would understand was hard. How were you supposed to explain that yes, Mat is her daddy but he was a fucking idiot and told the world that she’s not even though he said he wanted to be in her life. It would have been so simple to take the easy way out but it wouldn’t have been fair to Nora so after she finished her breakfast, you sat her down.

“You’re feeling a little confused, huh?” you asked, watching her fiddle with a loose string on her sweater.

She nodded, still not looking up at you and not offering her thoughts. It was a bit alarming because she was usually a chatterbox, even when she was upset about something. She would let you know exactly what was wrong.

“Who told you Mat was your daddy?”

She finally looked up at you, and the tears threatening to spill from her eyes made you both angry and upset. You were ready to find whoever told her and scream at them but her answer stunned you.

“I heard you talking to Jaxy,” she whispered. “I wasn’t trying to listen but I was coming out to get some water and you said that you were mad at Mat.”

She didn’t elaborate on what else she may have heard which was unnerving because you probably said a lot of things about Mat that night when Jax came over to talk to you about it. You hoped she didn’t stay long enough for your breakdown where you had cried for thirty straight minutes.

She sniffled, wiping a couple tears away. “I don’t understand.”

Your heart broke but you still struggled with how to explain everything to her. Telling her in the beginning was probably a better idea but you were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings, you ignored the person who should have been your number one priority the entire time.

“Mat is your daddy, baby,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

I’m sorry I kept you a secret.

“How come everyone is saying he’s not?”

Mat should have been the one to answer this question because it was his doing, but you hadn’t spoken to him since the night he was at your apartment and the two of you argued. He had texted you the day after but you ignored it because you didn’t know what you would say when given the chance.

“Well, sometimes people make mistakes and Mat said something he shouldn’t have,” you explained, hoping it was enough and it seemed to be enough at first but then she hugged you tightly.

“I love you mama,” she said and before you could reply, she quietly asked, “Do you think Mat loves me?”

“I’m sure he does,” you told her and it took everything in you not to cry.

. . .

Liana: dinner at our place @ 6. bring nora and don’t be late!!!

You’re tempted to decline the request and just stay home but you’ve been promising Liana and Nadia that you would actually visit instead of dropping Nora off and leaving like you’ve been doing. Avoiding Mat is becoming increasingly difficult. It’s been two weeks since he released the statement and a week since your conversion with Nora. She’s been asking a lot of questions, ones that you didn’t plan on having to answer so soon. You expected her to be angry with you for not telling her but she took your confirmation that Mat’s her dad with ease.

So it didn’t come as a surprise when her first question was whether Mat would be at the Barzal household for this dinner. You hadn’t bothered to ask Liana, mainly because you knew it would definitely impact your decision to agree to go.

“Did you know that Zoe’s mom and dad aren’t together either?” She says during the drive to the Barzal’s.

You do know this but you humor her. “Really?”

“Yup. Zoe said she spends weekends with her dad and stays with her mommy during the week,” she explains and then moves on to a different topic. You’re a little curious why she would talk about her friends’ living arrangements but when you finally pull into the driveway, your question is answered.

“Do I have to stay at Mat’s on the weekend?” She asks and if you hadn’t already parked the car, you would have hit the brakes.

“No,” you say a little too quickly and sharply because she frowns.

“How come?”

You don’t answer her question right away, getting out of the car and walking around to the other side. She’s already unbuckling her seatbelt by the time you open the door and she’s still frowning.

“Just no, Nora.”

“But Zoe does!”

You can’t explain custody agreements to a seven-year-old so you say the first excuse you can think of.

“He doesn’t live here,” you say, taking her hand and begin walking towards the house. She’s dragging her feet, clearly not happy with your response.

“Do I have to call him dad?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Just ‘cause,” you say, stopping at the door and turning to her. Her arms are crossed and she’s giving you the look that says she won’t let up until you give her an answer she wants.

“Do you want to call him dad?”

She pauses, looking down at the ground and frowning. After a moment she shakes her head.

“No, but Miss. Jones says you’re not supposed to call your mommy and daddy by their first names ‘cause it’s disrespectful.”

“It’s not up to Miss. Jones,” you say gently. “This is new, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

After a moment, she mutters a quiet “okay,” and then: “do you think Nadia has ice-cream for dessert?”

“Guess we’ll have to go inside and ask,” you reply and raise your fist to knock on the door but it swings open before you can. Liana is waiting on the other side with a big smile on her face. Nora runs straight to her and giggles when the older girl picks her up and swings her around.

“C’mon in,” Liana says, ushering you inside. So far there’s no sign of Mat so some of the tension leaves your body. After putting both yours and Nora’s shoes aside, you make your way to the kitchen. Nadia is puttering around, juggling a million things but she still smiles softly when she sees you.

“Can I help with anything?”

“You can keep me company,” she says and points to a chair. “Sit down and update me on what you’ve been up to.”

You know that you can’t argue with her so you sit and chat idly with her. She doesn’t bring up anything to do with Mat and you’re not sure what to think about it. You almost slip up and ask if he’s going to be here for dinner but decide not to. You haven’t seen him around since you arrived, so he’s probably out. Maybe with a girl.

Not that you care, obviously.

Mike eventually pokes his head in the kitchen to greet you and ask how you’ve been. He offers to set the table but Nadia shoos him out of the kitchen, rolling her eyes fondly.

“Don’t get married, they’re nothing but trouble,” she jokes but there’s a smile on her face that lingers even after her husband leaves. You always admired their relationship, and were certain that you and Mat would be like it some day but it wasn’t in the cards.

Soon, Nadia calls everyone to dinner. Nora immediately asks why Mat isn’t here and there’s an awkward silence until Liana breaks it.

“He’s busy,” she tells Nora and that must be enough because she just nods and starts eating dinner. Nothing else is said about Mat but just as you’re all finishing dessert, you hear the door open and close and there’s only one person you figure it will be.

Mat walks into the dining room, clearly caught off guard by your presence. Nora hops off her chair and darts over to him, wrapping her arms around his legs and starts chatting excitedly. He’s trying to give her all his attention but his eyes keep flickering to you.

When Nadia and Mike get up to start clearing the table and Liana asks Nora if she wants to go watch a movie, you realize that the three of them planned this. It’s almost like you’re kids again, fighting about something stupid and needing his parents to help fix the problem.

Mat looks at you a little helplessly when the room clears and it’s just the two of you. There’s no way you can yell at him with his family and Nora in the next room and you realize that was also probably planned.

“Can we talk?” he asks and you really don’t want to, but you realize that eventually you’re going to have to talk to him so you nod. You follow him out the back door and the two of you sit on the porch steps in silence until you finally break it.

“Why didn’t you come to me about what PR wanted to do? We could have figured out something together.”

He shrugs, looking at the ground. “I didn’t think to ask you about it. I just wanted to fix everything before it got complicated. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you mutter. “That’s something you’re great at. You don’t think before you do anything.”

You jump when he stands up suddenly and turns to face you. He’s angry but so are you.

“No, fuck that. You can’t just expect me to do everything right, when a month ago, all I had to worry about was hockey. I can’t be number one dad overnight! You didn’t even tell me about her for six years!”

You’re a bit taken off guard by his sudden outburst but you can do anger too.

“That is the exact reason I didn’t tell you about her, Mat. Hockey is always going to come first in your life,” you snap. “And I didn’t ask you to be a number one dad, all I asked was that you be sure you wanted to be in her life before you committed to anything because this is exactly what I was worried about.”

He falters a little, probably not expecting you to return the anger.

“I didn’t want to post what they asked me to,” he says, sounding defeated. “But I didn’t know how to say no. When PR tells you to jump, you jump.”

You’ve no idea how public relations in hockey works, it’s possible that they would have posted the statement without asking Mat but you’re so damn angry. You’re angry but you don’t know who you’re even supposed to be mad at now.

“You should have come to me,” you say again. “That’s how co-parenting works, you know.”

His mouth twitches. “That’s what we were doing?”

You can feel the anger slowly dissipating. Mat’s shoulders aren’t as tense and he plops back down on the steps so you sit next to him, letting your shoulders and knees knock against his.

“Well, you are her dad,” you admit. “And she is very concerned about her future living arrangements.”

He looks at you a little confused but there’s a small smile spreading across his face.

“Does she know?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “She’s smarter than you expect sometimes.”

“She gets that from you,” he says, poking your arm.

You roll your eyes fondly. “Well she had to get her brains from someone.”

He huffs but it sounds more like a laugh. You watch him look at the ground, brows furrowed and deep in thought.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

Here’s the thing that a lot of people don’t know about Mat: he doesn’t forgive himself easily. It’s something you learned the hard way when you were younger and dating.

So you know he will beat himself up over this until you forgive him.

“Yeah, but we both did.” You bump your knee against his until he looks up at you. “We can fix it, but we have to do it together.”

He holds out his pinky finger. ”Co-parenting, right?”

You hook your finger around his and nod, letting yourself relax for the first time in weeks. It’s going to take time, hard work, and you’re both going to have to learn how to trust and communicate better again but you're sure you’ll get there.

“Together,” you agree.

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#hockey imagines #allies writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal x reader

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spnhunter4life · 1 year

Text

Familiar

Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster's type.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: reference to nonconsensual sex, canon typical violence

A/N: I've had this one done for a couple of weeks, but things have been very busy and so I just finally got around to doing a reread/edit of it. I hope everyone enjoys it!

This one includes the writing prompt "character A flipping positions and shoving B against a wall 'now this seems more familiar doesn’t it?'"

I don't remember where I found this. I have a list of prompts I saved, but didn't include who posted them, so if you happen to know where this came from, let me know and I'll give credit to that person.

Also, I've had someone ask me to be tagged in new stories I post. I am happy to do this, so if anyone else is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Masterlist

I met the Winchesters for the first time five years ago when I was 22. I was in college and had just moved to a new dorm building that turned out to be haunted by a ghost. I had been the next intended target when Dean and his dad stepped in and saved me. That was the last time I would see either of them for a long time, but I never forgot the faces of the people who had saved my life.

After that experience, I was obsessed with the supernatural. Dean and I had talked a little bit before they left town, and he told me about how he and his dad traveled the country killing monsters. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to be able to save people’s lives the way they had saved mine.

So a couple months later I dropped out of school and started getting ready to hunt. I signed up for a gym membership and started going everyday as well as taking boxing and Krav Maga lessons. My life had given very little opportunity for me to build muscle or learn to fight. But I wasn’t stupid enough to go into a fight with a supernaturally strong creature completely unprepared.

I gave myself a year to get in shape and learn to defend myself. During this time, I put every spare minute I had into research. I looked into what kinds of monsters were out there, how to kill them, which ones were most common. While doing all this research, I ran into a man named Bobby Singer. He had all kinds of helpful information and taught me how to track them down. I started the process of purchasing weapons I would need and also saving up money.

Once I felt ready, I set off on my first hunt. The overwhelming satisfaction I felt at saving a person from the ghost that had been haunting them was too much to ignore. I knew without a doubt now that this is what I should be doing with my life. So I went on another hunt. And another.

Things were a little rough going at first and I got more injuries than I cared to admit – fighting a trained professional in a controlled environment wasn’t the same as going up against an angry monster – but my fighting skills improved and things started going smoother soon enough. I didn’t regret my choices.

I ran into Dean a little over a year later. I was looking into what I suspected to be a witch and had stopped for lunch at a local burger joint when I saw him. I recognized him immediately and went to talk to him. It took a little bit for him to remember me, but he did. When he asked what I was doing so far from home, I told him what I’d been up to since the day he saved my life. He seemed surprised and impressed. Apparently the people he saved didn’t often take up hunting afterwards.

When I asked after his dad, he told me that they were starting to work separate cases on occasion. They still hunted together too, but not as often.

Since we were both in town for the same reason, we agreed to work the case together. It was difficult at times, learning to rely on another person and factor their thoughts and opinions into what we were doing. I’d never hunted with someone else before. In other ways, though, it was so much easier. I decided I kind of liked having a partner. Dean and I worked well together.

He must have thought so too, because the day after we finished that hunt, he asked if I wanted to come with him to look into a string of suspicious murders a couple states over. I’d been hunting with him – and occasionally his dad – ever since.

About nine months into our new arrangement, his dad went missing and so we picked up his brother Sam from school to help find him. Adding him to the mix had been another adjustment. That was two years ago now though, and we’d all found an easy rhythm together.

“We should go check this out,” Dean said, sliding the newspaper he’d been looking at across the table to Sam and pointing at one of the articles.

We were at a diner waiting for our breakfast to be brought out. Sam scanned the article.

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, passing the newspaper to me when I motioned for it. I skimmed the article Dean had found.

“Come on, Sam. Three murder suicides in under two weeks. That’s weird,” Dean insisted.

“It is weird. I just don’t see how it’s our kind of weird,” Sam answered.

“Y/N? What do you think? You agree with me, don’t you?” Dean asked, confident I’d back him up. We typically saw things pretty eye to eye. Not always though.

“Well, actually I agree with Sam. There’s nothing here that really makes it sound like our kind of thing. But,” I continued, saying the word a little louder to stop Dean’s protest. “It’s only a few hours away and we have nothing else to do right now. So we might as well go check it out.”

“Alright, fine,” Sam agreed, sighing at the triumphant look on Dean’s face. “But I really think we’re wasting our time.”

“Right. Because we’ve got much more important, productive things going on here,” Dean said sarcastically.

“It’s never a waste of time,” I said. “Even if it ends up being nothing, making sure people aren’t being killed by something supernatural isn’t a waste. What if we decide it’s not worth checking out and it turns out it is our kind of thing? Then those deaths would be on us.”

“Ok, yes, you’re right. I already said we could go check it out,” Sam said.

“Well thanks for the permission, Sammy. I really don’t think we could’ve moved forward without it,” Dean snarked.

“Bite me,” Sam answered.

“Alright, cut it out you two,” I scolded.

The waiter brought our food out and we spent the meal trying to come up with ideas of what we could be dealing with. We didn’t come up with much since we had so little information to go off of. Dean paid our bill and we were just heading out the door when something occurred to me.

“Oh! What if it’s a siren?” I suggested.

“A siren? From Greek mythology? Like in The Odyssey?” Dean asked.

“What?” Sam looked at his brother in surprise.

“What?” Dean asked, a little smug and a little offended.

“What do you know about sirens?” Sam asked me, moving past his shock at Dean’s knowledge.

“Not much,” I admitted. We reached the car and I climbed into my usual spot behind Sam. “All the vics have been couples though, right?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, turning in his seat to face me. “Is that important?”

“All I really know about sirens is that once they infect you they convince you to kill someone you love. The only siren case I’ve heard of had several husbands killing their wives before it was stopped. So maybe in this case once the men realize what they’ve done, they kill themselves.”

“Seems like the best theory we’ve come up with,” Dean said. He backed the Impala out of the parking spot and headed out of town towards the highway.

“Let’s get there and do some digging around before we settle on a theory,” Sam cautioned. “But say you’re right. How do we kill it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve already given you the extent of my knowledge on the subject.”

“Okay. Well at least we have a starting point. We can look into it more if that still seems like the most likely scenario after we’ve investigated things a little bit,” Sam said.

Apparently deeming the conversation finished, Dean turned up the music. I leaned my head against the window and watched the road blurring by.

~~~~~

The bar we were at was crowded, the music was loud, and the guy I was talking to was cute. Not stop and stare cute, but cute enough that when he came over to where I was standing at the bar and started flirting, I flirted back.

“So how long are you in town for?” Cute guy asked. I vaguely noted Dean in my peripheral vision, making his way to the bar. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed how irritated he looked. But I was trying not to notice him. He and I were just friends and would never be more. I’d accepted that. It meant I couldn’t let myself be distracted by him when there was a guy standing right in front of me who was interested.

“Don’t know yet,” I answered, giving him my best flirty smile. “I’m definitely here for the night though.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean interrupted. “Come on Y/N. Sam’s waiting for us.”

“Woah, hey, come on man,” cute guy protested. “You can’t just come in here and force her to leave. We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“You were, were you? Sorry pal, but we’ve got important things to do. Go find someone else to bother.” Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, away from the bar and towards the exit.

“Dean!” I hissed as I was forced to follow along behind him. “What is your problem?” I asked when we made it outside.

“What’s my problem?” Dean echoed, letting go of my arm and turning to face me. “What’s your problem? You know what we’re after here. What made you think it was a good idea to offer to go home with some random guy who for all we know could be the siren?”

I scoffed and started to walk towards the car, but Dean grabbed me again and pushed me up against the building. He stepped in close and put an arm on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

“What are you doing?” I asked. It didn’t sound quite as irritated as I wanted it to. His close proximity mixed with the few drinks I’d downed had me too overwhelmed to hold on to my anger.

“Next time you’re wanting to scratch an itch in the middle of a case where the monster we’re after seduces people into murder, just save us the trouble and come to me instead,” he instructed. Then before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me.

I gasped in surprise and he used the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Finally catching up to what was happening, I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. I never could have predicted this, but I was so thrilled it was happening.

He made his way to my neck. He kissed a couple of different spots before finding a spot he liked and starting to suck and nip-

I woke up with a jolt and a gasp. I quickly took in my surroundings and realized I’d fallen asleep in the back of the Impala.

“You ok?” Dean asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I realized we were parked outside a motel. The engine turning off must have been what woke me. I briefly met his eyes and was immediately bombarded with the images from my dream.

“Yeah,” I told him. I managed to successfully fight the blush that tried to rise in the presence of the very man I’d just been dreaming about. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this sort of dream about the older Winchester. I doubted it would be the last.

Dean went inside to get us a room. We unloaded our bags and made a plan. We decided the boys would drop me off at the police station to talk to the sheriff while they went to question the medical examiner. We would meet at a diner a few blocks away from the police station when we were done.

“What’s the connection between all of these people?” I asked Sheriff Jones once I’d introduced myself and explained why I was there.

“Connection?” He asked.

“Yeah. This many murder suicides in this short of a time, there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re wrong about the suicide part and it’s just flat out murder. Maybe it’s some sort of messed up pact these people made. There has to be something that connects them though. So what is it?”

“As far as we can tell, there is no connection between any of them. Sometimes these things just happen,” he said.

“How long have you been sheriff?” I asked. He was starting to get up in age, probably in his mid to late 50s at a guess. I assumed he’d been a police officer for a long time.

“Almost 20 years,” he informed me proudly.

“And in those 20 years, how many times have you seen something like this? Three different couples killing each other and themselves. One after another.”

“Well… never,” he admitted.

“Right. So what’s the connection? Graduated from the same high school? Go to the same gym? In a bowling league together? There has to be something that connects them other than them all being married.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” Jones corrected.

“I was told they were,” I said.

“The last couple wasn’t. They were roommates, but as far as I’m aware, that’s as far as the relationship went.”

Damn. Did this throw a wrench in my siren theory? Not necessarily. Just because they weren’t together doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t secretly in love with the other. Or maybe they were really close and loved each other in a non romantic way.

“Great. I’m gonna need a list of close family and friends of all the victims,” I requested.

“What for?” He asked.

“To find the connection. You figure out the pattern, you have a chance of stopping it from happening again,” I said frustratedly. How were these idiots not investigating this further? Did they really believe it was just all a coincidence?

Jones gave me a list of names and I left. I scanned the list on my walk to the diner, trying to figure out where to start and how long it might take to talk to these people. I rounded a corner and ran into an extremely attractive man.

“Sorry!” I apologized as he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying.

“No worries,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “No harm done.”

Had I not spent every day of the past three years sharing close quarters with the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, I might have been caught off guard and turned into a mumbling mess. But my time with Dean mixed with the quick thinking and lying that was sometimes necessary for hunting meant I was able to keep it together.

“Still. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Well in that case, I was just on my way to get some lunch. How about you make it up to me by coming with?” He offered. It only took me a few seconds of consideration to make a decision.

“Sorry, but I’m busy. I’m on my way to meet a couple of colleagues for a kind of work lunch,” I told him.

“Ah. Well, maybe next time,” he smiled.

“Maybe,” I agreed, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. I sighed as I continued my walk to the diner. He was awfully good looking. Under different circumstances, I probably would have taken him up on his offer.

I walked the last couple of blocks and noted that the familiar black car wasn’t in the parking lot. I went in, found an open table that would fit all three of us, and sat down. I had to wait about ten minutes before Sam and Dean walked in.

“Hey. What did you find out?” I asked once they were seated.

“Not much. There wasn’t anything unusual about the bodies as far as anyone could tell. The ME did say that based on the most recent body, she wondered if the suicides weren’t actually suicides though. She’s looking over the other two bodies again to see if it could have been staged to look like a suicide,” Sam told me.

“That qualifies as not much to you?” I asked. “I mean, granted it doesn’t really up the weird factor. But what if they missed something else too? Something they wouldn’t know to look for?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Dean said smugly.

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion again,” Sam told his brother as the waiter came over. We rattled off our orders to him and waited for him to leave before continuing.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asked.

“No. I do have a list of people for us to talk to though,” I answered. I took the list out of the pocket I’d tucked it into after folding it up and handed it to Sam.

“What, the cops have a suspect list?” Dean asked.

“No,” I snorted. “Whether or not this ends up being our kind of case, I feel bad for the people in this town. Their idiot sheriff doesn’t even think it’s worth looking into. It’s an open and shut case as far as he’s concerned.”

“What’s your list then?” Dean questioned, leaning over to read over Sam’s shoulder.

“Close family and friends,” I answered. “I’m hoping we can figure out what connects them all.”

“Right,” Sam said. “It’s not like we can monitor every single married couple in this town on the off chance they might get murdered.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” I told him. “I guess the last two were just roommates.”

“There goes the siren theory,” Dean sighed.

“Not necessarily. It still could be,” I said.

“How?”

“Sirens don’t target married people specifically,” I explained. “They just make you kill someone you love.”

“So you’re saying they were living together as friends but secretly in love?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Love doesn’t have to be romantic.”

The waiter brought out our food and we made a plan as we ate. Dean wanted to check out the crime scenes first. Sam argued that we might get more information from talking to people. I wanted to side with Dean because I really wasn’t looking forward to interviewing ten different people, but I had to agree with Sam. Might as well get this part out of the way. We could look at the victims’ houses after.

~~~~~

Several hours and too many interviews full of crying loved ones later, we stood in our motel room going over the information we’d gathered today. The ME had called an hour ago and confirmed that it was flat out murder, not murder suicide. We hadn’t gotten any useful information out of any of the people we talked to today though, and we were all a little frustrated.

“Alright, well the roommate vics were extremely close,” Sam recapped, thinking out loud. “Which means Y/N’s theory on them loving each other pans out, leaving a siren as the most likely culprit. But how are we supposed to find it? We still don’t have anything that links these people together,” Sam grumbled.

“And why is it killing people?” I added. “Usually they leave the killing to their victims. Maybe we missed something.”

“Or,” Dean cut in, standing up from the chair he’d been in. “We'll find the answers we need at the crime scenes. Which I said we should look at four hours ago.”

“Yeah, Dean. We know,” Sam snapped.

“Let’s just figure out our next step,” I interjected.

“Maybe we should do some research on sirens. It would be easier to track it if we can figure out where they live, how they make people do what they want, that sort of thing,” Sam suggested.

“C’mon Sam, we’ve spent all day doing research on the victims. Now you’re telling me you want to do more research?” Dean complained. “What we should do is go to their houses. I’m telling you, if we want answers, that’s where we’ll find them.”

“Maybe, but we still have to know what we’re up against,” Sam pointed out. “Why don’t you and Y/N go check out the houses. I’ll stay here and research,” he suggested.

“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean said, satisfied with this compromise. He went outside and I heard the Impala’s engine roar to life a few seconds later.

Sam grabbed his laptop and settled in to work while I grabbed my coat.

“Let us know if you find anything,” I said. Sam assured me he would and then I followed Dean out the door.

We decided to split up to cover ground faster. Dean would drop me off at the first house and head to the second house himself. When he was done there he would pick me up and we would look at the last place together.

Dean parked outside the first house, a small blue one with a row of flowers planted along the front of it.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” he told me as I was getting out of the car. He drove away and I walked into the house, ducking under the police tape strung up on the door.

The first room I walked through was the kitchen. Other than a few unwashed dishes in the sink, it was spotless. I knew the murders had happened in the bedroom, so I didn’t expect to see much in the rest of the house, but I was looking for any sort of clue that would lead us to the siren. I took a quick look at the pictures on the fridge but didn’t see anything that would help.

The next room was the living room which was also clean. A cursory scan of the room told me these two were huge movie fans. There were several movie posters hanging up on the walls, an entertainment center overflowing with DVDs, and a little box full of old movie tickets. I didn’t know how this could be a connection with the other couples, but it was clearly a big part of their lives, so it was worth making a mental note of. Other than that, I didn’t see much. A brochure for a yoga class stuck underneath a pile of magazines on the coffee table. A framed picture of the two skiing was hanging on the wall. I noticed a coffee mug with what I assumed was the name of a local bar printed on the side. I made another mental note of both the yoga class and the bar just in case.

Then I moved on to the bedroom. Even if I hadn’t known ahead of time what happened in here, it would have been pretty clear. There was a bloodstain on the bed and the blankets were rumpled, like there had been a struggle on top of them. One of the pillows was knocked on the floor. The nightstand on the left side of the bed had been knocked over, a picture frame shattered beside it. And there was a second blood stain on the cream carpet.

I braced myself, turning off the part of my brain that wanted to be horrified and turn away from the scene. I looked around the room for any sort of clue as to who the siren might be or where it might have gone. It would be a lot easier if I knew what exactly I was looking for. Sam was right. We should have done the research first.

After thoroughly searching the bedroom and the bathroom and finding nothing, I made my way back out of the house. I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet, but I was getting more doubtful that this wasn’t something the real FBI should be handling. I stepped back outside and saw the cute guy from earlier walking past. He heard the door close behind me and looked over.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered as I walked towards him. “I do believe that’s a crime scene you just walked out of. Not exactly legal.”

“It is when you’re FBI,” I told him, pulling out my badge. It identified me as agent Y/N Perry.

“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, not seeming overly surprised by the news.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again.

“I live next door,” he told me. “I didn’t really know them. Terrible what happened though.”

“It is,” I agreed. My phone rang and I took it out of my pocket, seeing Sam’s name on the screen. I excused myself to answer it.

“Hey, Sam. What did you find?”

“Have you heard from Dean?” He asked urgently.

“No, why?” I asked, immediately worried. Before he could answer, everything went dark.

~~~~~

Sam’s POV

“What do you got, Sam?” Dean asked immediately upon answering my call.

“Not much, but I think I’m starting to figure out more about this siren,” I told him. I hadn’t had time to gather much information yet, but what I had found mixed with a quick phone call to the ME was starting to clear things up.

“Like what?”

“So get this. When sirens… put you under their spell or whatever, it leaves high levels of a hormone called oxytocin in your blood.”

“So?”

“So, I called the ME and asked her about it. There were high traces in three of the victims. The female victims. For whatever reason, this siren is going after the women, not the men.”

“Son of a bitch! Please tell me you called Y/N before you called me,” Dean said.

“Why? Aren’t you together?”

“No,” Dean growled out in a tone of voice that suggested stress and frustration. “We split up to move faster.”

“Alright. Well don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her now,” I said, trying to calm him.

“I’m going back to get her. I’ll call her on the way.”

Before I could argue that he was already worked up enough and should just focus on driving I heard a thump, Dean grunting, and then the sound of his phone clattering on the ground.

“Dean!” I yelled. No response. I hung up and headed outside. I needed to find a car. Once I had one ready to go, I started driving to the closest address on the list.

~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

The first thing that registered in my mind was the way my body was shaking. I heard a distant voice calling my name as consciousness slowly found me. It took a few seconds for me to fully wake up and process what was happening. The shaking was due to the hand on my shoulder, trying to jostle me into consciousness. The voice was Dean’s, and it wasn’t distant. It was right in front of me.

My head was pounding. I tried to remember what happened. I was outside waiting for Dean. Sam called. Then what?

“Y/N!” Dean said a little louder. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, hissing at the pain that shot through my skull from the bright light in the room. Someone must have hit me over the head. Who? No one else had even been around. Except for that guy I bumped into earlier. He must be the siren then.

I felt a surge of frustration at my stupidity. How did I miss it? I knew it was weird that he just happened to be outside that house.

“C’mon. We should get out of here,” Dean encouraged, pulling me to my feet.

“Just a minute,” I pleaded as a wave of dizziness rushed over me upon standing. I braced my hand on the wall beside me.

“What happened?” He asked. “You didn’t answer the phone.”

Once the dizziness passed, I slowly opened my eyes. The pounding in my head was intense, but it was more manageable when I took things slow.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Who, the siren? Dead,” he told me. That was good news I guess. I didn’t know how much help I’d be in a fight right now. He was almost entirely supporting my weight. Then something occurred to me.

“How?” I asked, looking up at his face. “We don’t know how to kill them.”

“Well I had a machete with me. I couldn’t walk in here completely defenseless. When I saw him standing over you, I cut his head off. Apparently that’s all it takes,” he explained.

I looked around the room, searching for the body, and realized this was the house of the first murdered couple. We were in the living room.

“He brought me in here?” I asked.

“Well. It was close by. And there isn’t much chance of anyone walking in. Made it easy for me to find you, too. How are you feeling? Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. My head was still pounding, but the dizziness was gone.

“Good,” he said, carefully turning me to face him. “I was really worried about you.” Then he kissed me.

I so badly wanted to be able to enjoy this. I’d dreamed about it so many times but never imagined I’d ever build up the courage to tell him how I felt. Or that my feelings would be reciprocated.

I placed one hand on the back of his neck and gave myself a couple of seconds to be sure my balance was good. Then in one quick motion I stepped to the side and used the hand around his neck to shove him face first into the wall.

“Ow! What the hell?!” He yelled, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, watching closely for any indication he was about to run or attack.

“I am Dean!” He insisted. He held a hand out placatingly and took a step towards me.

“Stay back,” I warned him. I reached into my boot and grabbed the silver knife I kept there at all times. “I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”

He dropped his hands and stood up straighter, a cocky smile gracing his mouth. He started to walk in a slow circle around me.

“What gave me away?” He asked casually.

“A few things,” I answered, rotating my body to keep him directly in front of me at all times.

“Like?”

“Where’s Dean?” I asked again.

“Oh, he’s fine for now. Just a little tied up at the moment,” he smirked.

I lunged for him, hoping to catch him by surprise. He easily blocked the knife I had aimed directly at his heart and threw a punch that caught me in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of me, but I recovered quickly and slashed out with the knife at the hand that was reaching for my hair. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the fake Dean growled. “You know you can’t win. Might as well save yourself some of the pain.”

My head was killing me and the dizziness was threatening to return and become a very serious problem. I waited for his next attack. I didn’t have to wait long. I saw his muscles tense to move and then he closed the distance between us quickly.

He reached out for the hand that was holding the knife, trying to force it out of my grip without touching it. I took advantage of the way he focused on the knife to kick his knee as hard as I could. His knee buckled and I used all the strength I had to push him into the wall behind him. I pressed the knife to his throat.

“Where is Dean?” I demanded.

“What gave me away?” He asked again. I couldn’t believe the arrogance. Did he really not care about anything but the fact that I’d seen through him?

“I’m not going to ask again,” I threatened, pressing the knife just a little harder into his skin. “Where is he?”

“Quid pro quo,” he offered. “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

I seriously debated just killing him, but decided to humor him just this once. He wasn’t going anywhere and I’d get the answer out of him one way or another.

“First of all, Dean wouldn’t just sit there waiting for me to wake up. He would have just carried me out. Secondly, he has a scratch on his jaw that hasn’t healed all the way yet. That particular scratch is missing from your face. Third, if he’s not sure which weapon to bring with, he always chooses his gun. Silver kills a lot of things, so it’s usually the safest bet. Also, where’s the body? You said you killed the siren, but there isn’t a body. And as far as that goes, you don’t have a machete either.”

“Hmm. You’re observant,” he said. “Not observant enough though. Otherwise you probably would have seen this coming.”

His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pushing the knife away from his neck. He pressed hard on the tendons there until I was forced to drop the knife. Then he spun us around, pressing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my wrists to the wall and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face.

“Now this seems more familiar, doesn’t it?” He smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat.

“No?” He mocked, pressing his cheek to mine and talking directly into my ear. “You’ve never dreamed about Dean pressing you into the nearest wall and kissing you breathless? I think you have. Many times. As recently as just a few hours ago.”

I whipped my head to the side to look at him. He grinned triumphantly.

“That’s right. I’ve been inside your head. I know exactly how you feel about this pretty boy of yours.”

I bristled at the way he had stolen Dean’s face, tried to use it against me, and was now flaunting that fact.

“You don’t know anything,” I spat. He just continued as if I hadn’t said anything.

“That’s why I chose you. It was pure coincidence running into you, but you’re a very attractive woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Give what a shot? Murder? News flash, you’ve already done that. I’d suggest branching out and finding a new hobby.” I pushed lightly against his hands, testing the possibility of breaking free. That wasn’t an option. He was holding on tight, and I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a battle of strength.

He smiled and kept ignoring me.

“You see, I had to turn into you first to get in your head and see if you fit what I was looking for. It was a shock, of course, to find out that you’re a hunter. But it turns out you did fit my needs, and you and your friends were so far off the mark, I knew I’d be safe enough.”

“What do you mean, I fit your needs?” I asked. I had a plan to escape his hold, but as long as he was content to talk, I wanted answers.

“Well you’re in love of course,” he said.

“So?” I didn’t bother denying it. Like he said, he’d already been in my head.

“So,” he answered as if I was being extremely stupid. “Isn’t it so much better being with someone when you’re in love?”

I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Being with someone? What was he talking about? What did it have to do with murder?

I felt a wave of horror and disgust wash over me as I understood his meaning. He’d posed as the men the women were in love with and slept with them before murdering them both.

“If it’s any consolation, they died happy,” he told me. “Well,” he amended. “The women did, anyway.”

“So what?” I snarled. “You thought you’d come in here looking like Dean and I’d just take my clothes off for you? Just like that?”

“Well, not just like that. But I figured you’d be willing enough once I had some time to convince you.”

I remembered how he had kissed me before. I assume that was the kind of convincing he was referring to.

“We still could, you know,” he offered. He brushed his lips gently against mine and I jerked away. “You can pretend I’m him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”

“Right before you kill me, you mean?”

“Well obviously I can’t let you live,” he said.

“I think I’ll pass,” I said. I drove my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. He may not have been entirely human, but he still went down as hard as any human man.

I dropped down to pick up my knife, doing my best to ignore the pain the quick movement caused in my head. I didn’t give the shapeshifter time to recover. I immediately turned to him and drove the knife into his heart. He gasped in shock and pain and then collapsed, unmoving.

I rose to my feet and made my way – a little unsteadily – out of the house. I was pretty sure I had a concussion and that fight had taken all the strength and energy I could muster. As I stepped out of the house, a car came screeching down the road and parked next to the only other car on the street. I didn’t know if I could really handle it, but I prepared myself for another fight.

The driver door opened and a tall man stepped out. Sam, I realized when he called my name. And the car he was in was the Impala. How had he gotten it? Sam ran over to me and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, ignoring his questions.

“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for both of you,” Sam said. “I found Dean’s car at the second house, but no sign of him. I was hoping I’d find him here with you.”

Just then we heard a muffled banging noise coming from the other car on the street.

“Stay here,” Sam told me, drawing his gun as he walked towards it. I was in no position to argue seeing as the dizziness was returning and I was struggling to keep my balance. He stopped by the trunk of the car. “Dean?”

“Sam! Get me out of here,” I heard Dean say from inside.

“Just a second,” Sam breathed out in relief. He tucked his gun back into his jeans and went around to the front of the car in search of the keys. He pulled them out of the ignition and then opened the trunk. Dean jumped out, fuming. He was down to just jeans and a t-shirt, the shifter having stolen the rest of his usual layers.

“Where is it? I’m gonna kill it,” he seethed, marching towards the house. He paused momentarily when he saw me swaying on the sidewalk and then hurried over to me. He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put his own around my waist to help me stay balanced.

“What happened? Did the siren do something to you? Where is it?” He asked.

“It was a shapeshifter, not a siren,” I told both him and Sam who had followed close behind his brother.

“Was?” Sam questioned.

“It’s dead,” I said.

“That explains why my clothes are gone,” Dean said irritatedly. “Why is it that we seem to be leaving behind a trail of shapeshifter bodies wearing my face?”

“Well, you’re an objectively good looking guy. Maybe they just can’t resist all the girls they know they’ll get with a face like that,” I teased.

“Alright, well you’re obviously in even worse shape than I thought,” Dean said, half teasing half genuinely worried. I guess I haven’t ever said anything to him before about him being attractive. This concussion was loosening my tongue apparently. “Sam, you mind getting the body? I’m gonna get Wobbly here to the car.”

“Why can’t we just leave it?” Sam asked.

“Because I want my clothes back for one thing,” Dean replied. “And for another, I don’t want to be blamed for yet another set of murders.”

“Good point,” Sam agreed. He headed for the house.

Dean turned us towards the car and the movement caused me to trip a little on my own feet. The adrenaline was fading away, leaving me helpless to fight off the dizziness that I thought had disappeared.

Rather than let me stumble my way to the car, Dean moved the arm he had around my waist a little higher on my back and put his other arm under my knees, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me. I couldn’t be bothered to keep my head held up and rested it against his chest.

“What happened?” he asked, referring to my balance issues.

“He caught me by surprise and hit me over the head. I think I have a concussion.”

“You thought he was me, so you didn’t see it coming,” Dean said. He adjusted my weight so he was able to open the car door.

“No. He looked like someone else. I turned my back to take a call and he hit me. When I woke up he was pretending to be you,” I explained.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he gently set me down, careful not to hit my head.

“Why?” I wondered.

“He took me out too. Only I didn’t even know he was there. If I’d been paying attention better, I could have stopped him before he got to you,” Dean said, ashamed.

“Not everything is your fault, you know,” I told him. I saw Sam step out of the house, a large body tossed over his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over.”

I could tell he didn’t agree with me and he would beat himself up over this for a while. But he left to open the trunk for Sam and I was too exhausted to try and convince him otherwise.

~~~~~

An hour later Sam was watching over me while Dean went to take care of the body. I sat on the lumpy couch and held a bag of frozen peas to the back of my head in an attempt to bring down the swelling. I’d taken Ibuprofen as soon as we got to the motel and both the headache and the dizziness were slowly starting to fade. I’m sure finally sitting still helped the situation too.

“Why do you think it killed them?” Sam wondered aloud. “I mean, how did he choose his victims?”

“He chose women that he considered beautiful and that were in love. He turned into the man they loved and when he was done with them, he killed them,” I answered even though he hadn’t actually been expecting an explanation.

“He told you?” He asked, surprised.

“In way too much detail,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment.

“You know what I don’t get? If it wasn’t a siren then where did the oxytocin come from?”

“The what?” I asked.

“Oxytocin. It’s a hormone that sirens infect you with,” he explained. “Actually, Dean was on his way to warn you when he got ambushed. I told him that all the women had high levels and so it looked like they were the ones being targeted.”

My face drained of blood at the reminder of what that thing had done to those women. Of what he’d tried to do to me.

“I know what it is,” I told him. “And it’s not specific to sirens. It’s a naturally occurring hormone in the body. Ever heard of the love hormone?” At his nod I continued. “It occurs during childbirth, breastfeeding… and sex. That’s why he wanted women that were in love. He said it’s so much better that way.”

Understanding showed on his face alongside a mix of horror and protective anger.

“Y/N… he didn’t?”

“No,” I assured him quickly. “Not me anyway. I figured out what he was too quickly.”

Relief replaced the other emotions on his face and he stayed silent as he processed this new information. Then he wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“You said he chose women that were in love,” he said.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“So why did he go after you?”

I was practiced enough at hiding my feelings for the older Winchester from both brothers that I didn’t even have to hesitate to come up with an explanation.

“I guess he found me attractive. Per his usual pattern, he turned into me to see if I was in love with anyone and found out pretty quickly that I’m a hunter.”

“Then why did he turn into Dean?” He asked.

“He was pretending to rescue me,” I answered.

“Right, but why? What’s the point? If he wanted you dead, he had the chance. There was no reason for him to mess with you that way.”

I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for this, so I stayed quiet.

“He wasn’t just going after you because you’re a hunter. You fit the profile he was after and he wanted to-” he cut himself off and considered his wording. “He wanted to… complete his usual pattern. Because you’re in love with Dean,” he surmised, smiling a little bit at this conclusion.

I decided silence was the best option here. I couldn’t possibly contradict his completely accurate deduction. I wouldn’t outright confirm it for him, but I wasn’t going to deny what we both knew to be true.

“Y/N.”

More silence.

“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it,” he promised. I sighed.

“You know you’re not,” I told him.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He asked.

“There’s nothing to do about it,” I answered. “He doesn’t see me that way. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted it.”

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same if you don’t tell him?”

“Sam, I’m really not in any condition to do anything to you right now, but I swear if you say anything to him, there’s going to be hell to pay in a couple of days,” I warned.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he said, offended by my assumption. “But I really think you should tell him. You guys are so great together. I think you would be good for each other. And I would be very happy for you.”

“Thanks, I guess. My head hurts too much to even consider thinking about this right now,” I told him.

“Alright, fine. I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “For now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After that we sat in companionable silence while we waited for Dean to get back. Sam turned the TV on. I closed my eyes to block out the light and just listened to it, finding it to be a suitable distraction from the day’s events.

Dean got back probably twenty minutes later by my estimation.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked as soon as the door was shut behind him.

“A little better,” I told him.

“Good,” he said. He took the peas from my hand and gently felt the lump that had formed on the back of my head. “I think the swelling might actually be going down a little bit.”

He took the now room temperature peas to the freezer and switched them out for a fresh bag. He handed it to me and then sat down beside me, putting his arm around me.

“Is this ok?” He asked. He didn’t know the details that Sam did about the shapeshifter’s intentions, but he knew that I had been attacked today by a guy wearing his face.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” I told him. “I know it wasn’t you. For the record, I knew the whole time it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I’m not traumatized and I’m not afraid of you.”

“A simple yes would have been fine,” he teased, pulling me closer into his side.

Movement from Sam’s direction had me glancing at him. He just smiled at me, looking meaningfully at Dean and then winking at me. I would have rolled my eyes if the action wouldn’t hurt my head. Instead I pointedly looked away from him. Things with me and Dean were fine the way they were. I wasn’t going to mess it up now just because Sam knew about my feelings.

A romantic relationship with Dean was something I wanted, but not something I needed. This right here – sitting together with my two best friends, knowing that even though I was temporarily unable to defend myself should it be necessary I was still safe and protected – this was all I needed. At least, that’s what I’d continue to tell myself.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@123passwort

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #familiar #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #case fic #monster of the week #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x platonic!reader #writing prompt

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literary-motif · 15 days

Text

May Your Heart Be Free

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

Inspired by this post and all the heartbreaking lovely replies. Special thanks to @xzhdjsj, @kieran-rhoades and @c-t-r-l14 as well as the lovely @jasminepicksflowers for the heartbreak ideas. (I hope you don't mind the tag!)

Isaac drowns in work and sorrow after you leave him to become a singer. You meet again.

The house was empty without you in it. He could feel the loneliness weighing him down, stealing the air from his lungs as he walked the desolate hallways. You had taken every ray of light when you went, leaving him in the tense darkness of his dangerous life.

Isaac sighed, burying his face in his hands as your lovely voice sounded over the speakers in his study. He tried not to indulge, refraining from checking up on you too often — maybe once or twice during the day, going through your social media, keeping track of the people frequenting your neighborhood and assuring you would never come to harm — but at night, sometimes the longing in his heart was too much to bear.

Your singing did not ease the burden on his heart, but at least it turned the suffocating feeling of having lost you into a sharp ache instead. He could hear in your voice that you were happy. The enthusiasm it carried as the vinyl spun circles made him smile fondly despite the tears in his eyes. You were happy. That was all that mattered.

He downed his whiskey, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. God, he missed you terribly. The alcohol did not soothe him as it used to now that he knew what it felt like to be held when his heart broke apart. The stinging in his eyes as his vision blurred, the cramp in his right hand, the pain in his head — all the signs of overwork he had prided himself on pushing through to continue his work until the early hours of the morning, satisfy his client and close the case, now threatened to bury him under their weight.

When had he become so soft? When had shutting off his heart and putting his head down to drown in the pages before him, stopped being enough to save him from the rising tide of his sorrow?

The ring he had gifted you lay in front of him on the desk. The note under it was almost mocking — ‘Thank you for everything. Take care.’ — as if everything between you could be reduced to a simple ‘thank you.’ As if his overwhelming love for you, the thorn in his side and the reason he still breathed warranted the meager reciprocation of ‘take care.’

He took the ring, clutching it in his shaking fist, and pushed the note away from him, careful not to stain it with the tears trailing down his face. It hurt. Having you gone hurt; hearing the echo of you in these walls, feeling the memory of your love for him — it tore him apart over and over and over again.

It made him feel like a boy again, terrified of the darkness lurking at the end of the hall. Isaac had always prided himself on being self-sufficient, but now he felt almost petrified at the thought of being alone.

Asirel, kind and indebted to him as he was, had tried helping in his own way, knowing Isaac long enough to be familiar with his coping mechanism. He had given him case after case, making him lose himself in work until there was little time to think about anything else. He had taken every case, hoping they would fill the aching hole inside him.

Isaac downed another glass of whiskey, grimacing at the tear stains he felt on his face. Nothing could make him forget about you, and as the needle lifted off the vinyl, stopping your melodic singing and replacing it instead with the empty sound of the platter turning, he stored both the ring and the note away in the top drawer of the desk, telling himself that tomorrow would be a little easier.

It never was. Your absence still burned as much as on the day he had said goodbye.

With all the work he did, Isaac rose further in his client’s esteem. They all saw him as an efficient, professional, and hard-working young man, praising him for the thorough and quick handling of their cases. His reputation began to precede him, carrying the word of Isaac Rhoades as the man who could retrieve information about questions other people hadn’t even thought about. Asirel was proud of him, of course, and many clients wanted to have him as a more permanent ally as well.

“Monsieur Rhoades, so glad you could make it!” the little man with the mustache said, shaking Isaac’s hand energetically. Normally, he would have never accepted the invitation for a soireé, but this particular client had insisted, constantly bothering him about the expensive appetizers he had imported straight from la belle France and the breathtaking music he had arranged to be played at his lavish mansion.

“Thank you for having me,” Isaac replied, presenting the old wine he had brought as a gift. Truthfully, he had grabbed the first bottle he had found, knowing that every one of them was appropriate to keep up appearances and otherwise not caring in the least bit about the evening’s festivities.

The host took the red wine, staring at the bottle with wide eyes. “Ah, Oui,” he said, sounding shaken, “excellent taste, I see. Excuse-moi.” He walked towards his assistant, Isaac presumed, handing him the bottle carefully and muttering some hurried French, probably instructions on how to store it properly.

It made Isaac wonder which one he had grabbed, but the thought quickly left his mind as he took a glass of champagne and began sipping it. He yearned for his whiskey instead as the evening dragged on.

He had handed out most of his business cards when the host approached him again, swapping his half-empty glass of champagne for a full one. “I have the most lovely performance prepared for my guests tonight,” he said, slinging an arm around Isaac’s shoulder amicably and beginning to walk him towards the faint melody he had picked up sometime during the evening from the adjoining music room.

The musician was singing, accompanied by a piano, but he had drowned out the faint echoing of their voice as he conversed with the other guests, strengthening old ties and developing new ones.

“Very lovely indeed,” Isaac said, downing his glass of champagne and glancing at his watch. He wondered if half past twelve was an appropriate time to leave already. There was a sudden stutter in his heart, and Isaac frowned discreetly, his brain needing a moment to catch up to reality. The melody sounded familiar. The tone of voice, no—!

“What a pleasure to know you like them too,” the host said with a smile, leaving him alone in the doorway to catch one of his other acquaintances.

Isaac sucked in a breath, watching you play.

You had not noticed him yet, too caught up in your own world of music to pay much attention to the room around you as your fingers danced across the keys.

He felt so stupid. How long had you been playing already? How much time had he wasted mingling with potential clients while you were here as well, pouring your heart out as you sang the songs he listened to daily right in front of him?

The happiness you radiated with as you played was unmistakable. You were shining with it. Isaac could hear it in every note you played. He could see it in every sway of your upper body as you became one with the music, letting it overtake you as you put your all into expressing how you felt.

He was so happy for you. Seeing you like this, hearing the joy and brightness in your voice melted his heart and no matter how much it tore him apart that you were no longer by his side, he was glad to have let you go and have the privilege of watching you live your dream.

Trying to blink away the tears in his eyes, he applauded like everyone else as you looked up from the piano, your song fading into the noise of the people around you. There were many, leaning against the walls or talking near the open windows as they enjoyed your soothing playing and the magical sound of your voice.

You inhaled shakily, swearing you felt your heart stop when your eyes met. Isaac’s face was ashen as he stood in the doorway. You could see the emotion in his eyes as he smiled faintly at you. Having him here, cheering you on and gazing at you with a look of such pride brought tears to your eyes, you longed to get up and engulf him in a hug, thanking him over and over and over again for everything he did and still does for you.

Instead, you kept up appearances, inclining your head and smiling gratefully at the applause of the other guests. It would not do to cause a scandal here, neither for you nor for Isaac.

Placing your fingers on the keys again, you began to play with a slight adjustment to the night’s setlist. The song was new, to the public at least. You had written it during melancholic nights, your mind filled with thoughts of Isaac, longing to see how he was, but knowing it would only hurt so much more to reach out to him.

You had never planned on releasing it, but having Isaac here, so close but so far out of reach, made you want to show him just how much he meant to you. You wanted to show him how much you missed him.

“Is the world enough to save

For your stoic’s life of purpose?

Did you rummage through the haze?

Have you caught off all the surplus?”

You closed your eyes, having played the melody more times than you could count. You could not bear looking at Isaac as you sang to him, worried of what you might find in his gaze — worried of your voice cracking as the emotions for him overwhelmed you.

“Is your life so full of shadows

You no longer see the light?

Are you standing in the ashes

Of the bridge I left behind?”

Deep down, you feared he hated you or harbored resentment towards you after abandoning him. You knew you had hurt him.

It was obvious, from the desperation he had tried to hide in his eyes the day you told him about your decision to the tight embrace he had given you at the door, as the car waited outside to take you away. You had almost expected him to plead, beg you not to go and leave him behind in the claws of his past, but Isaac had never allowed himself to be selfish. He had let you go with well wishes and the request to look after yourself.

“Did you drown yourself in whiskey

When you saw me walk away? — Or

Did you freeze up your heart

To keep yourself from missing me?”

Your words made him flinch. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms to anchor himself to the present and remember in what company he was in. It would sully his name if people saw him break down over a song — a seemingly random one, to their eyes. He kept looking at you, watching how the light breeze ruffled your hair as you sang with your eyes closed.

You were beautiful, and Isaac could not help the surge of affection taking hold of his heart. He was soft, but only for you. Something about you brought out the side of him that he had thought buried long ago, and no matter if you were no longer with him, seeing your passion for music, the love for what you did — as much as it pained him to admit it was for the best, he was happy he let you go.

“Is the world enough to save —

My knight of shadow?”

The tempo slowed, and you opened your eyes again, finding Isaac already looking back. You needed to tell him. You needed to make sure he knew you were genuine as you confessed to him the truth that had been eating away at you — hoping he had it in himself to forgive you.

“I dream through every day,

Wishing I’d stayed beside you.”

Isaac’s eyes widened in shock as the last verse hit him. It felt as if someone had just punched him in the gut. All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. The softness in his heart not a moment ago turned into drowning sorrow. The only thought on his mind, as he heard the crowd cheer, was that he needed to get out. He needed to collect himself.

“Lovely, aren’t they, Monsieur Rhoades?” the host said, nodding towards you. He did not see the anguish on your face nor the longing in your gaze as you continued playing, unable to get to Isaac as all the eyes were on you. “Don’t you love a display of talent like this? Je l’aime!”

“Excuse me,” Isaac choked, keeping his head down to hide the tears threatening to fall and making his way through the crowd quickly, ignoring various calls of his name. Yours was not among them, so he continued hastily, needing to get out, get away, only stopping when he was safely inside his car, hidden in the darkness again where nobody could see him lose his composure.

Only in the darkness, he allowed his tears to fall unseen.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #isaac rhoades x reader #isaac rhoades

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slytherizz · 10 months

Text

In the Shadow of Us - Sebastian Sallow x Female!MC/Reader

Summary: Sebastian Sallow has spent the past 5 years rotting in Azkaban.

The only thing keeping him sane; the hate he has for the woman who put him there and the man beyond the wall. Now that same witch, the one he'd once loved, needs Sebastian's help.

Theophilus Harlow has escaped Azkaban. To earn his freedom and get revenge on the man responsible for creating his sister's curse, Sebastian and the Auror must track down the man beyond the wall before he tears the Wizarding World apart.

Tags: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Forced Proximity, Smut

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, explicit language, angst, seriously angst, Hurt/Comfort

You can find the entire fic on AO3

I can't believe I finally finished my long fic. It's honestly so bittersweet that it's over. I don't know what to do with myself so I thought I'd post the first chapter here.

Part 1 'Whatever it Takes' is not necessary to read Part 2 'In the Shadow of Us'.

Chapter 1

Sebastian listened to the waves crash against the rocky cliffs below, the storms that surrounded the cursed slice of land in the middle of the sea never seemed to rest. The only signs of life, if you could call it life, were the clanking of chains and the muttering from those who’d already lost their minds. The air was always damp, and condensation clung to the walls of his cell. He watched as the water dribbled down from the barred window onto his half rotten mattress on the floor. Sebastian had spent his first month dragging it around to every corner to try and find somewhere it would stay dry but after years, he had given up trying.

He could feel them approaching, feel the coldness, the emptiness. It felt as though a black hole had dragged his soul from his body, as floating rags of a dementor came into view through the bars. A skeletal hand of flesh stretched over bone, clinking along one of the bars. Sebastian brought the blanket he had around his bare feet to starve off the chill, crunching himself into the corner to get as far away as he could. It never worked but he still tried. Every time.

All he could feel was the darkness in his soul rising like water, ready to fill his lungs and drown him. As the tattered robes that hid the monstrous face peered in through the gaps, Sebastian knew there was no point in fighting it, any happiness he had had been lost years ago.

The curse struck her directly in the chest, and she crumpled to the ground screaming in agony. The curse licked at her as she clawed at her skin. Guttural wails of pain echoed off the walls. She was convulsing, so viciously he thought she may swallow her tongue and choke. She was pleading for it to stop; for him to stop.

She was above him, her head thrown back in a raspy gasp of pleasure. She was writhing above him, coming undone under his touch as she was brought to climax. How he’d kissed her, hands fisting possessively into her hair. She’d stroked his cheeks as they came down from their shared ecstasy, her eyes burning into Sebastian. The last time he’d had her, right before she’d turned him in. At the time he’d thought was love. Now he knew it was goodbye.

Sebastian’s throat was raw as he gulped down breaths, the world was slowly coming back into focus. He’d buried his fingernails so far into his palms he could feel the sting where he’d broken the skin. His head was spinning.

“You alright, mate?” rasped a voice from the other side of the wall. Sebastian let out a groan in response and the faceless man behind the wall chuckled. A tinny hollow sound, of a man who knew the hell that Sebastien had just experienced all too well.

“Peachy,” Sebastian groaned, sinking his head back into the mattress. His heart was beating wildly, and his breathing was laboured. He felt cold and empty. He didn’t know at what point she had decided he was too cursed, too broken. But he’d stopped hoping one of them would come for him. Sebastian knew there was nothing left for him outside of these walls.

Sebastian had spent the last five years in Azkaban alongside the voice beyond the wall. Sometimes he wondered if he’d lost his mind and the voice was just in his head. But at some point, he’d stopped caring and the lines became blurred, somewhere between reality and a nightmare.

There was no way to survive in a place like this. It was designed to break, and drag every joy, happiness, pride, comfort out of your soul until there was nothing left. What had once been a fire within him, a passion that had kept Sebastian alive, was now cold. The only embers that burned anywhere in him anymore, keeping him from the brink of insanity was the rage. The hate that crept in. For the woman that let him tear himself apart for her, before turning him in. He traced the tattoo on his wrist. The rage was the only thing he had left, they couldn’t take that from him.

“Tell me about before we got here, mate. You know it’s the only way to keep the fire burning.”

***

Sebastian wakes with a start. His heart is pounding in his chest and his body is damp. Whether this is a cold sweat from the nightmares, or from the rain coming through the bars, he doesn’t know. The differences between the reality and dreams make no difference to him anymore. His reality is a nightmare, regardless.

“You there?” Sebastian rasps into the darkness. He needs to hear the voice, the only constant that keeps a grip on his sanity. He’s met with silence, and the crashing of waves as they beat against the dark monolith. Sebastian presses his ear to the wall, but he hears no scratching, no breathing.

Maybe the owner of the voice had died. Sebastian didn’t know whether to be terrified or jealous. Maybe the voice had been another trick of the dementors this whole time, to ignite a fire of hope in him, giving them more to feed off. Sebastian shook that idea from his head, these kinds of thoughts make people go mad in here.

Sebastian had forgotten the name of the voice long ago. It hadn’t mattered, all that mattered was the stories they told each other. The ones that kept the fire lit.

He told the voice his story of the relic, how he’d killed his uncle trying to save his sister and of the goblins that used that ancient power to curse her. He laid bare the story of the girl that left him to die after he’d torn himself apart to save her.

He knew the voice had been one of Rookwood’s men, but he had chuckled in that hollow tinny way when Sebastian told him how he’d set so many of their camps ablaze.

Sebastian knew this was not a good man beyond the wall. But Sebastian was not a good man either.

Sebastian curled up on the rotten mattress and closed his eyes. Maybe he would be back in the morning. Maybe Sebastian would die in his sleep too, it didn’t sound too bad.

***

Sebastian was sat on the iron chair in the cold windowless room in Azkaban, his hands were shackled, and the chains linked through a loop in the table. The cold metal of the chair stung his skin through the threadbare cotton of his Azkaban robes. Grey and striped, they hung off him, not much more than skin and bone. Sebastian leaned back in his chair the chains clanking and pulling taut when he tried to cross his arms, not enough give in the length. Not long enough to strangle someone, or himself.

He'd been abruptly dragged from his cell this morning, by some of the intimidating wizard guards in the prison. Or was it afternoon. The sky was always different shades of grey here, he never knew the time. Sebastian supposed that was the point.

The door clicked in front of him swinging open and in the doorway stood the last person he ever expected to see. Ever wanted to see.

“Hello Traitor. Long time, no see,” his face stretched into a cruel smile, his voice a little hoarse from disuse. Her face was blank unreadable, lips pulled into a hard line.

“Leave us,” she gestured, to the two guards flanking her. They exchanged a weary glace at each other, but her eyes never left Sebastian. He was doing his best at looking unfazed, stretching out his limbs as far as the chains would allow.

“Ma’am, we aren’t allowed to leave the prisoners alone-, “ the older of the two guards began, keeping a hand on his wand in the holster strapped to his chest, as if expecting Sebastian to strike at any moment. What exactly the man expected Sebastian to do, wandless and chained was a mystery. At least they thought him formidable enough to be capable of daring escape attempt.

“This is a Ministry matter. I have no problem speaking to your superiors. I said leave us,” Sebastian surveyed her for the first time in years. Her hair was pulled back at the temples in two soft braids, just as she had always worn it to battle. Some of the fullness of youth had left her face, where she had once been pretty, she was now striking. But her features were drawn and grave, her eyes guarded. She looked older and Sebastian wondered how his own features may have changed in return.

The pristine scarlet of her robes was the only drop of colour in a lifeless room. Scarlet robes, a gold badge adorned on her chest and a wand holster strapped to her arm. The marks of an Auror. Sebastian let out a low chuckle. Of course, she would have become an Auror whilst he had rotted behind bars.

With a scowl the accompanying guards shared a nervous glace to each other, obviously recognising the malice on Sebastian’s face. She levelled them with a hard look of authority, and they reluctantly shuffled out of the interrogation room, bolting her inside, regarding him as though he were some sort of wild animal that they had just fed, like he could pounce at any moment.

“Sallow,” she acknowledged him for the first time. Her voice sounded the same, but it was colder than he was used to. She took the seat opposite, seeming a lot less worried than the guards had been about proximity to a convicted murderer.

“I presume this isn’t a social call to see an old friend,” Sebastian said, as casually as if he was receiving her for tea. He lounged back in his chair, ignoring the biting chill of the iron into his skin.

“No,” she regarded him, taking note of his relaxed posture, his careful words. She was cautious and assessing, she had none of the fire that Sebastian knew her to have. She may try to hide it behind pristine robes and authority, but Sebastian knew it was there, lurking behind guarded eyes.

“The Ministry needs your help.”

Sebastian laughed a low hollow sound and bit out, “Why the fuck would I ever help you?”

“Because it will buy you your freedom, Sallow,” her voice had a professional, clinical edge, containing none of the fire that he knew her to have. He was laughing a little hysterically now, and briefly thought he must look a bit insane. Good, he thought, let her think that I’ve gone mad, let her think about me and what she’s done. The sound seemed to set his former friend on edge, and she dropped the mask of authority for a moment. Despite her unease he purred. At least he knew he could still get under her skin.

“What would I do with freedom?”, he chortled bitterly, “I have nothing to go back to. No family. No friends. You made certain of that last one. Inside or outside is irrelevant. And you’re the last person I would help.”

“Fine. If not for freedom, for revenge. On the men who cursed your sister.”

“Goblins cursed my sister,” he seethed through his teeth. He hadn’t heard her name aloud in years. Sebastian couldn’t even tell the man beyond the wall. Couldn’t bring himself to say it. He only heard it in his in the waking nightmares the dementors brought. Even all these years later, the mention Anne still put him on edge. Especially from her traitorous mouth.

“No, they didn’t. It was Victor Rookwood. Rookwood is dead but I know you’re familiar with Theophilus Harlow. You’ve shared a wall with him for the last five years. I’m sure you’ve noticed his…absence,” only for a second Sebastian saw something flicker in her, the ghost of that old fire he knew so well. But as quickly as it was there it was gone “Harlow was Rookwood’s right hand man. Particularly for his skills in curse development. He created the curse that Rookwood used on Anne- “

“Keep her name out of your fucking mouth,” Sebastian spat, sitting forward abruptly in his chair and the chained groaned. She didn’t flinch.

“‘Children should be seen and not heard’ Rookwood said those same words to me the night he tried to take my life-”

“You’re fucking lying,” he bit out. Goblins cursed his sister. And she had cursed him.

“Sebastian,” she sighed exasperatedly “just listen to me. Harlow is dangerous. Rookwood may have been the mastermind but Harlow…he’s a sadist. He developed curses using that ancient magic reserve far beyond my understanding. I know you studied Anne’s curse more than anyone, studied your parents work on ancient magic. With Miram and Fig gone along with their research, there’s no one in the ministry with the knowledge of how these reserves work. How Harlow might use them, again. I know you studied your parents work and as the last one to speak to Harlow. They’re willing to offer you freedom, in exchange for your cooperation in tracking him down. I know you remember it, the research. If we can’t stop him, your sister won’t be the last one to suffer.”

Sebastian was silent, and his eyes burned into her as if his gaze could cause her a fraction of the pain he’d been in for the last five years. After five years, she comes to him and has the audacity to ask for his help. There was a man once who lay waiting for her to come for him. But that man had died in Azkaban.

The silence that between them hung like death. Neither of them moved. Sebastian was used to waiting. The scarlet of her robes seemed to taunt him. He’d once envisioned himself wearing those robes. They had planned to do it together. That flicker of rage, the one which was keeping him alive was starting to grow, and the spark was starting to burn. The man behind the wall. The one that had started this. He had cursed his sister and Sebastian in the process. There were only two people to blame for the last five years. The woman across from him and the man beyond the wall. Harlow. How many times they had spoken of revenge. As they had stood on opposite sides of the wall, they now stood on opposite sides of a war. A war that Sebastian would finish.

She looked like she wanted to say something else but hesitated, her lips parted slightly before she thought better of it and pulled them back into a hard line. Finally, she sighed and got to her feet.

Just as she reached out to rap on the door, Sebastian bit out through clenched teeth. “I’ll do it.”

She froze, and turned her back to him slightly, fixing him with a cautious eye.

“But not for you. For Anne.”

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #Sebastian sallow x female reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow angst

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slayfics · 1 year

Text

Muichiro’s Mansion

Muichiro x Reader series

You try to make sense of Muichiro’s conflicting actions towards you.

Chapter 11

Muichiro had fired you as his Tsuguko. Your head was spinning as you tried to make sense of everything that happened. It was even harder to wrap your head around because you thought your relationship was growing with the Hashira.

You continued to try and make sense of the Hashira's actions. He had started sharing meals with you, brought you a gift, and even cuddled you through the night when you were injured. How did it go from that to being fired so instantly? Could one mistake really sever your relationship and all the hard work you had put in?

You weren't sure what else to do, but you found yourself pulling out a paper and pen to write to the only person you trusted.

Miss Kanroji,

Please forgive me for bothering you again, I know how very busy you are as a Hashira. However, I feel so lost and utterly hopeless. Tokito has fired me as his Tsuguko. I messed up on my first mission with him and was injured horribly by a demon. I know I should have done better, but I can't believe after all my hard work he would fire me so quickly. I really thought we were starting to get closer... I don't know what advice you can give me, if any. I'm just not sure what to do now. Thank you again for your time.

You sent the letter off with your crow and decided to try and get some rest. Laying in bed you pulled the hairpin from your hair that Muichiro had gifted you. You admired the hairpin in your hand and let out a big sigh. You felt exhausted from the emotional toll of the events and longed for the peaceful numbness of sleep.

To your surprise, Mitsuri had written you back the very next day, and a letter was waiting by your bedside when you woke up.

WHHHHHHAAATTTTTT???? ARE YOU SERIOUS?????? HE CAN'T FIRE YOU FOR MAKING ONE MISTAKE THAT IS INSANE!!!!!!

You know what! Tokito is actually here in the swordsmith village with me! I'll track him down ASAP and ask him what he was thinking!! You just keep training until then and don't worry too much ok??

I'll make us some tea and pancakes when I get back!

Mitsuri Kanroji <3

You felt your stomach turn at the thought of Mitsuri confronting Muichiro. However, there wasn't much damage left to do. He already fired you and obviously hated you. How worse could it get? At least you had tea and pancakes to look forward to when Mitsuri got back.

You followed Mitsuri's advice and went to keep training. Training helped to uncloud your head and see the situation clearer.

There wasn't much left to do but accept what happened. You began to think about asking Mitsuri to take you in as her Tsuguko. You know she already has a soft spot for you, and she was always so sweet. That might be a breath of fresh air after training under Tokito for the past few months.

It was then a crow flew by squawking news loudly above you.

"DEMON ATTACK ON SWORDSMITH VILLAGE. DEMON ATTACK ON SWORDSMITH VILLAGE!" it squawked.

Your whole body froze. How had demons found the swordsmith village?

Wait...

The swordsmith village is where Mitsuri said she and Muichiro were!!!

I hope this chapter wasn’t as devastating as the last one! Tagging those that asked for it here since I might be away from tumblr when this is scheduled to post.

@aeolia18 @plvuii @xxlittlexrascalxx @parcqq @muichirouswife @ihatecorns

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helioselene · 2 years

Text

HOW TO: WRITEBLR;

so youve migrated from writing twt to writeblr -> what now?

the following is my masterpost on the ins and outs of navigating the writeblr landscape! while it can be scary to deep-dive into the world of writing on tumblr for the first time, there are a few actions you can take to make it a lot easier to interact and share your writing.

psa: this is neither an extensive nor complete list of writeblr tips! but i hope it can help :)

INTERACTION;

interacting with others is one of the most important aspects of writeblr. im going to be splitting this section into a number of sub-sections because there are several topics relevant to creating a system of communication with other writers on here.

likes and reblogs; unlike twitter or other social media sites, likes do not hold the same weight on tumblr. as well as liking a post, the most important step you can take is to REBLOG. reblogging will share a post to your blog and thus your feed. in doing this, your followers and anyone who checks out your blog are going to see the post, rather than if you just like or comment. reblogging allows more people to interact with a post. content creators (including writers) can be motivated to continue posting when their posts are reblogged because it shows there are enough people interested in their works. the same goes for you! the more you reblog other people's works, the more likely your own posts will be reblogged, thus gaining more traction for all your hard-earned efforts.

taglists; you might be asking: what is a taglist? a taglist is usually featured at the bottom of your post when you share your writing. it includes people who have shown interest in your works - all you do is simply @ them. it means that people who are keen won't miss out on seeing the things you post about your wips! it is essentially an opt-in type deal, where people can choose to be added or removed from being notified about updates, excerpts, and the like.

don't abuse your taglist. don't tag them for every little thing you post about your wips - try to keep it to major posts like excerpts or new art, etc.

**** A HANDY HINT: writeblr etiquette states that you should never just add people to your taglist. only add them if they specifically ask.

tumblr tagging system; the tumblr tagging system is going to be your best friend as a writer. tags allow you to manage your posts + can act as a navigation system for your blog.

when tagging, make sure to not replace characters if it's for a trigger warning. 'assault', for example, should never be replaced with '@ssault'.

if posting an excerpt from your wip, i would suggest the following tags as the bare minimum: 'WIP NAME', 'WIP NAME EXCERPT'. if you're posting it as part of an event, you may also wish to include 'EVENT NAME'. you can also have a specific tag for things your friends write, for resources you may find helpful, etc. the possibilities are endless. a hint: the first five tags are the only tracked tags. the most important tags you want to add should be your FIRST FIVE TAGS on a post. furthermore, only the first twenty will show up in the search function.

tags are a good way for you to interact with other writers! when you reblog a post, OP will be able to read your tags where you can add how much you loved their work, etc.

POST FORMATTING;

do; - add trigger warnings to your posts if they contain sensitive topics. - add a plot, characters, etc. other writeblrs want context for your wip beyond just a number of dot points about tropes. - put your post under a 'read more' if it is a long post. - tag any nsfw content. - add a transcript of any photos/images under a 'read more'.

don't; - use any sort of fonts beyond the regular when writing a general post. using the 'chat' font, for example, reduces accessibility to your posts and makes it difficult for people to read. - just post dot points of your wip. - plagiarise. - use other people's posts as a place to self promote.

PINTEREST IS NOT AN ART SOURCE;

this is one of the biggest differences between tumblr and other social media sites: pinterest is. not. an. art. source. the truth is that people aren't going to care if you post a moodboard with nothing beyond a few random photos of a castle and a knife, etc. sure, they may look pretty, but don't do it for a number of reasons.

first, you should always post art directly from a credited source (e.g. unsplash or picrew).

second, it doesn't show enough about your wip! people want context! not just random photos!

thirdly, most photos or art on pinterest do not CREDIT their sources. this is theft and this is bad. which leads me onto the next topic.

CREDIT YOUR ARTISTS;

CREDIT ALL ARTISTS. if you use any sort of artwork, i swear to all things holy, give credit to the ORIGINAL sources. pinterest, as mentioned, is not an art source. most artwork on that site is stolen or posted without credit, which, funnily enough, is a form of theft. if you're going to post any form of photo or art, please give credit. it doesn't matter what form it takes; link to the original artist or photographer in a way that is not hidden.

MOODBOARDS AND GRAPHICS, OH MY;

one sad truth about being on tumblr, as with a lot of social media sites, is that your posts will gain a lot more interaction if you use some form of graphic or photo along with your writing. graphic making may seem daunting but it doesn't have to be! they don't have to be complicated or anything more than a few photos - as long as they have relevance to your wip. moodboards are not necessarily a bad form to take when making graphics for your posts. however, if it just features a random collection of photos that tell your audience nothing about your work, they're not going to care. writeblr is all about actually imparting information about your wips, rather than just vibes. ****as mentioned, any form of artwork or photography needs to be credited to the original source. however, etiquette is also to not repost art without express permission from the artist. if you don't have permission to use someone's art, DO NOT put it in your moodboard or graphic.

BLOG AND BLOG THEMES;

tumblr is a really great site for expressing yourself through your blog, especially if you use custom themes! if (like me) you're terrible at javascript and any form of http coding, there are a number of blogs you can search for to find custom made themes that are easily adaptable for your needs.

but why use a theme beyond expression?

one of the best aspects of using themes is the navigation aspect. most writeblrs have some form of navigation page (beyond just simply using the tumblr tagging system) to allow their audience to find information about their wips, writing resources, and the like! it makes going through your blog easier for both you and others.

also: make sure to include information about yourself on the blog (but of course, not to the point of doxxing yourself). most tumblr users, especially those on writeblr, will think you're most likely a bot if you dont include at least some things about yourself. the most common things to add are name, age and pronouns! also a dni can be used.

WRITING TIPS AND TRICKS;

titling your wips by @crtalley

plot structure by @nouveauweird

how to blurb by @yvesdot

notion templates for writers by @atelierwriting

the tropes guide by yours truly

so you're missing a plot by @seasteading

novel length by @serpentarii

thank you to everyone who helped me in writing this post! love you all <3

#writing resources #writing advice #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr community #writers #wtwcommunity

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odyssean-flower · 5 months

Text

The Winding Path of Fate Bonus Chapter - The Kingdom of Sunflowers

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: There once was a realm split in two. One was the domain of the sea, and the other was a kingdom of sunflowers. Tags: Voyeurism but it's wholesome (?), fluff, one-sied Note: This is set between Chapter 7 and 8 of The Winding Path of Fate. I've been working on this for so long that I don't know if it's good or not anymore haha Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette as some sort of byronic hero

The small, green sprouts. They were lined up neatly in three rows. You had tried to make them as evenly spaced as you could.

Their shiny, smooth leaves. You liked to rub them between your fingers and feel their fuzziness. The texture was pleasant to the touch.

The white pages of your notebook. They were filled with tables and daily measurements. Just scanning your eyes over them gave you a satisfied feeling.

Your worn pencil and ruler. They were trusty implements that had been with you for such a long time that you don’t even remember when you got them. You hoped they would continue to accompany you in the future.

The—

A prickle on the back of your neck. It was a bump in the train track of your thoughts. A train track you tried very hard to follow since you came out here half an hour ago.

The prickle was not the sting of an insect or a small stray object blown against your nape by the wind.

No, the cause was far more terrifying than both of those things.

You turned your head to the house, looking up at the second-floor window that faced the front yard. You had never been in that room before, and for good reason.

It was haunted.

A flash of white. The curtains fluttered shut.

The prickle on your neck came from a ghost’s lilac gaze.

The dining room of the house with a lovely view of the sea was, for most of its existence, quiet. Every once in a while, that quietness would be broken by the lively chatter of small creatures with bright eyes, but otherwise it was only used by the master of the house.

Recently, a change occurred. If the tranquility of the dining room was a perfectly still body of water that was broken by occasional loud splashes, then now there was a series of gentle ripples regularly making their way across the surface.

On this day, one such ripple formed. It looked to be a particularly large one.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, I’m afraid I have some troubling news.”

The ripple—in the form of a young woman’s voice—made its way to the other side of the table, where the master was sitting.

The cutlery he was holding dropped into his plate. “What is it, Madame? Has something happened? I will do everything in my power to help you.”

“On the contrary, sir, I think you are the one in need of help. Your study is haunted by a ghost.”

“...Pardon?”

“I saw a glimpse of it in the window today. I think it was staring at me when I was out making my sunflower observations. It almost gave me a heart attack when I saw it.”

“...”

The young woman carefully sliced a piece of steak and brought it to her mouth. The master was as still as a statue. For a few seconds, the water was as smooth as glass.

“I think you should do something about it. It’s quite troubling. Creepy, even.”

“...I-I’ll...see what I can do.”

“I’m very glad to hear that.”

The young woman finished her dinner, nodded to the master, and went to put her dishes away in the kitchen. The master didn’t stir. An outsider might mistake him for a flawless statue, if not for the gradually reddening tips of his ears.

The ghost did not disappear. In fact, it seemed to have grown bolder. It moved to the dining room now, which had a nice view of the front yard.

Perhaps there were some things that even the Chief Justice couldn’t do.

If even he couldn’t get rid of it, then you supposed there was nothing you could do except put up with it.

It wasn’t so scary. It was more amusing than anything, really.

The ghost wasn’t always there. It was missing from its usual post whenever there was a court case or a hectic day at the Palais Mermonia. It wasn’t as though it was missing much, though, considering how you just did the same thing in the garden every day: examine the sprouts, measure and record their heights, feel the moisture of the soil, make some sketches, and repeat the same thing in the back garden. Very thrilling entertainment, you were sure.

Maybe it wants to keep an eye on me to make sure I’m not ruining its garden, you mused as you lay on your side, studying the underside of a leaf. It makes sense. This garden belongs to it, after all.

Well, if the ghost wanted to bore itself to death (or whatever counts as death for a ghost) by watching you, then it might as well. You were a mere human with no power over it. But you had no intention of changing your routine for it either.

As for you, you decided to focus all your attention on what turned out to be a surprisingly engrossing project. You weren’t exactly an avid gardener, but you had fond memories of doing similar activities when you were a child and with the young students back in your hometown, which was where the sunflower seeds came from. It gave you a certain sense of pride to watch over them as they grew, slowly but surely, under your care.

Of course, it wasn’t all thanks to you. These sunflowers were of a specific breed, one that required plenty of water—about three weeks of constant watering—to ensure the seeds could germinate properly. In your region, sunflowers were usually planted just before the rainy season in order to take advantage of all the precipitation, but it was summer now—the rainy season had long passed.

You mentioned the matter to Neuvillette, who said he would see what he could do. You imagined that he would have sprinklers installed or something.

What you did not expect was the daily rains that came after you planted the seeds.

Each day, there would be two rounds of showers. One in the middle of the morning, when most people were at work or school, and one in the afternoon (strangely, it always ended around the time that Neuvillette came home). It was more like a faint drizzle than a shower, a light curtain of mist over the world. You didn’t even need an umbrella.

You were no expert on rain, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of calculated deliberateness in the weather. The housekeeper remarked that it was quite out of season, more fitting for spring than summer.

Whatever the case, you were very thankful for it.

After the rain, the sun would come out brighter than ever, as though to make up for lost time. That was your favorite time to go into the garden. The heat of the sun’s rays shining down upon your back felt pleasant, and you swore that the scent of the grass and flowers after the rain had some sort of addictive quality to it.

Neuvillette never said anything about these suspiciously timely rains, so you didn’t either. But this mystery was something you turned over in your mind quite often.

You looked at the dining room window. The ghost was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper. You weren’t fooled of course. You could feel its gaze burning into the side of your head just a few seconds ago.

The ghost was staying within the dim shadows cast by the afternoon sunlight that streamed into the dining room. That was good. After all, you knew that it would fade away if it stepped outside. The ghost should really learn to leave things to other people and relax. You had already made it clear to him that the sunflowers were your responsibility, and that he should just wait patiently until they bloom in two months, so—

The ghost, seeming to sense your gaze, turned his head to you. Driven by a sudden vindictive urge, you gave a little wave and saw the ghost jerk a little in his chair. You stifled a laugh.

Who knew ghosts could be adorable?

The dining room continued to be full of ripples at dinner.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, the ghost has not gone away. In fact, it is now haunting the dining room.”

The young woman calmly took a sip of her stew and met the lilac eyes across from her.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Madame. It troubles me greatly as well. I do know of one way to rid us of this ghost, though.”

“Oh, what is it? Why haven’t you done it yet?”

“That is because it requires your assistance.”

“What do I need to do?”

“Allow me to accompany you in the garden, of course.”

The young woman blinked. It was evident that she had not expected that direct appeal. “Why?”

“To make the ghost disappear.”

“But you know how long I spend outside in the sun. I can’t ask you to accompany me for so long, especially after a long day at work.”

“I’m not so fragile that I can’t withstand a bit of sunlight.”

“I can’t forget that expression on your face when you joined me in the back garden the last time. It was heartbreaking.”

“...Was it that terrible?”

“Yes,” the young woman nodded vigorously. “There’s nothing about what I’m doing that would necessitate you needing to accompany me, anyways. It’s incredibly dull work. You would have a far better time staying inside.”

There was a brief, weighted silence. The young woman shuffled her feet anxiously.

“I would not make such assumptions.” The master’s voice sounded more solemn than usual, a contrast to the lighter tone he normally used at home. “For one thing, you seemed to be enjoying yourself with this so-called dull work.”

“That’s because I—” She was cut off before she could finish her sentence.

“I won’t argue with you anymore, Madame. You need not worry. The ghost will disappear in due time.”

The rest of the dinner was spent in silence. But as they say, still waters run deep.

This is probably payback for how I was acting before, you mused to yourself as you rubbed one of the leaves between your fingers. I think I just have a really warped personality.

When you first moved in, you had been curious about him. But out of a desire to not disturb his life any more than you already did, you opted to watch him discreetly (or so you thought). It was an embarrassing time that you still blushed to remember even now.

But afterwards, you told him that you would like to be friends with him, and he agreed. Yet here you were...

Though the curtains were drawn now, you didn’t even need to turn your head to know that the ghost—no need for this pretense anymore, it was Neuvillette—was sitting in his usual spot behind the window. It was as though he was a cursed spirit, unable to move on from this world.

I thought we were somewhat alike...but I guess not. I just can’t tell what he’s thinking.

You sighed. You genuinely didn’t want him to force himself and to take it easy, but there was another aspect to it. The idea of someone wanting to accompany you in such a monotonous activity simply never occurred to you in the first place, so you automatically rejected it. You enjoyed solitude and doing things on your own. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was your natural state of being that you couldn’t quite break out of. If you had the choice to do something on your own or with someone else, you would go with the first option most of the time. It had become second nature for you to brush people off.

You assumed that Neuvillette was like you in that way, that he also felt more comfortable being in his own company.

But being comfortable with something...isn’t the same as liking it all the time.

Your throat felt a bit parched. “I need water...” you muttered to yourself. But just as you were getting up to go back into the house, the housekeeper Marie came out of the door with a cup of water.

“Monsieur Neuvillette thought you might be thirsty. He said that this was your favorite,” Marie said.

You stared at the clear liquid in the cup. It looked just like the water you’d get from the tap. Neuvillette had you taste a lot of samples from his collection—you probably said one of them was your favorite at some point. He remembered it, because of course he did.

You still didn’t really understand this whole water tasting business, but he always seemed so pleased when you asked him questions and wanted him to elaborate on the mouthfeel (or whatever it was). The way his eyes would light up, the way his voice would soften, made you want to keep going along with him.

Neuvillette, you were slowly learning, was a terribly sincere person. So sincere that it was a little embarrassing for someone as jaded and awkward as you.

He said it looked like you were enjoying yourself. What kind of expression did you make when you were outside with the sunflowers? Did Neuvillette see it?

What did it say about you that you liked that he saw it?

There’s probably something wrong with me...

You emptied the cup in one big swig. It tasted like regular water, but the taste lingered in your mouth long after you finished it.

You told him that you weren’t going to let the Chief Justice dig around in the dirt and that he should leave it to you. He didn’t understand why it was okay for you to get dirt on your clothes. He wanted to tell you that he had no qualms about getting stains on his clothes or even his hair if it was for your sake.

You told him to stay inside where it was cool and shady instead of keeping you company in the sun, where it was bright and hot. He disliked summer, though he always kept this opinion to himself because it was the favorite season of the citizens of Fontaine. It appeared that you were no exception. He thought he could put up with it a little. Maybe with regular breaks under the porch.

You told him that he should look forward to seeing the sunflowers when they bloom in a couple of months and that there was no need to be concerned about them right now. You would take care of them until then. Time had always been a trivial thing to a long-lived being like him, but now, it felt irritatingly omnipresent. Rather than being in the thrall of something so oppressive, he would rather while away the hours with you until that time came.

You were kind and considerate in your refusals. You shared your notes with him in the parlor. But you made it very clear to him.

This was your domain. Your kingdom for you alone to reign over and no one else.

Very well. If that was your wish, so be it.

But still, might I be allowed a small glimpse into it?

He supposed that he had no right to ask that. There were many things about his work, duties, and identity that he could never divulge to you or anyone else.

The window glass only refracted the bothersome sunlight in awkward angles. It irritated his eyes. He had to learn to position himself so that he could stay in the shadows and look at the garden at the same time.

If he had but one selfish wish, it would be that you might perform this work later in the day, when the sun was not quite so glaring and the air cooler. Maybe then, you would permit him to be by your side. But one thing he found both endearing and frustrating about you—you were stubbornly set in your ways when it came to the things you cared deeply about.

You wore a large straw hat with a floppy brim when you worked. He himself had no strong opinion on them, except for the knowledge that most of the ones he tried made him look faintly ridiculous. He was aware that they were popular among the fashionable ladies and gentlemen in the Court of Fontaine, popularized by Furina’s well-publicized love for them. He was familiar with the ordinance passed a few years ago that limited the heights of the hats in the opera house, on account of the complaints that they obstructed the view greatly. He liked the one you wore for your wedding.

But he couldn’t say that he was terribly fond of hats at the moment.

They really do obstruct the view...he thought as you pulled down the brim, hiding your eyes.

He saw your mouth scrunch in concentration as you stuck your ruler in the soil, carefully lining up the notches with the top of the plant. After you confirmed the height, you dutifully jotted down the number in your notebook. The corners of your mouth turned up a little, or was that just a trick of the light? Did the sunflower grow taller than you expected? Ah, how he wished he could see what gave you that look on your face.

Sometimes, you would lie down on your stomach. You brought a blanket outside for that reason. He was glad for that, since the grass was usually damp after the rain. It would distress him greatly if you caught a cold.

You seemed to enjoy feeling the leaves between your fingers. It feels really nice, you told him. He also started to rub the leaves when he left for work in the morning and found that he agreed with you.

The wind sometimes blew your hair into your face, and you would tuck your hair behind your ear, only to have the effort be in vain when the wind came again. His fingers would twitch on these occasions. He didn’t know why.

Once, he had almost leapt out of his seat when he heard you yelp and jump away from the sunflower plot. A bee had flown past your cheek.

Once, you went out to look at the garden when it was raining. It was when the first of the strange rains had begun. He directed his gaze to his house and saw you walking back and forth in front of the tiny seedlings like a general in front of rows of soldiers. The tiny raindrops looked like pearls in your hair. He had felt somewhat guilty about manipulating the elements to this extent and ruining a great many Fontainians’ day, but that guilt had mysteriously disappeared after he saw your sparkling eyes.

Neuvillette knew very well how pathetic and unnerving his actions were right now.

He understood that according to human etiquette, staring at people without reason was considered terribly offensive. He himself preferred to avoid the public gaze when he was off work.

In the early days of his interactions with humans, watching and observing was how he learned to fit into society. Humans had always fascinated him, but the nature of that fascination changed throughout the years.

Perhaps this is just the next stage of it, he mused.

From observing many humans from above to a single one in close proximity.

But he didn’t think he was learning anything. In fact, he found himself more confounded and self-conscious than ever.

Why do you sometimes smile and sometimes not? Why do you draw me closer sometimes and sometimes push me away? What should I be doing? What is this restlessness whenever I see you on the other side of the window...?

Perhaps this was what it was to form a bond with another person. Fumbling around in the dark, trying to figure out how each other worked, what was off-limits and what wasn’t.

The rays of sunlight momentarily disappeared. A passing cloud blocked the sun. Then another. Then another.

Ah...how troublesome...

Neuvillette anxiously glanced out the window. You seemed to have noticed the clouds as well, for you were frowning up at the sky.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his roiling emotions. But the worry that he would ruin your day only added to them. He could almost taste the first raindrop that would make its way to the ground.

A knock on the window glass startled him out of his concentration. He opened his eyes and saw you standing in front of it, staring at him. “Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said.

Neuvillette got up from his chair and moved to the window. It was the only thing separating the two of you. As ever, he was unable to read the emotions in your eyes.

“What is it, Madame?” He could see droplets scattering onto the ground. How he longed to be outside right now. Perhaps that would calm his disturbed heart.

“Let’s sit together in the back garden. I want to take a break.”

“In this weather, Madame?”

“It’s only a little bit of rain. I’ll be sitting under the canopy, anyways, so I'll be fine. But you don’t have to join me if you don’t want to...” you looked away, as if a bit embarrassed. “It’ll be well within your right to refuse me.”

“No, I’ll happily accept your invitation.” The speed at which the words came out of his mouth surprised even himself.

You nodded. There was no smile on your face. “I’ll see you there, then, sir.”

You proceeded to go to the back of the house. Neuvillette turned around and found Marie standing there, holding a bowl of watermelon diced into cubes and a pack of toothpicks.

“Share these with Madame, sir,” she said, holding them out to him.

He thanked her and accepted them, then walked swiftly to the patio doors. However, on his way there, his hair seemed to have chosen the worst moment to take on a life of its own. It seemed determined to get caught in every crack and crevice. By the time he emerged onto the veranda, the rain was steadily pattering onto the canopy.

Thankfully, you were already there and seemed to have escaped the rain. You were staring out at the white sky, lost in thought. You looked up when you heard the doors open.

“Madame--”

“Oh, watermelon!” you exclaimed when you saw the bowl. You stood up and took the bowl and toothpicks from him, then stuck a pick into a watermelon cube and brought it to your mouth. He watched you as you savored the refreshing fruit.

You looked up in surprise when you saw him still standing. “Why aren’t you sitting down?”

Neuvillette cleared his throat. “Madame, I must apologize to you for my disgraceful behavior over the past few weeks. It is no way for a lady like you to be treated. I swear to you, I will never do it again. I shall leave you be.”

You were silent as you ate several more watermelon cubes. Your face was closed tightly, like the doors of a tomb. Neuvillette’s heart sank a little. The rain intensified a little.

“You really should sit down, sir,” you said after a while. “I don’t like having you stand while I sit.”

You patted the chair next to you, and he obliged. He crossed his legs almost automatically before deciding against it. It felt too casual.

There was more silence. The moist air usually calmed him down, but his brain was occupied by the horrifying possibility that you might not forgive him, that you might not speak to him ever again, that...

“Monsieur Neuvillette, I forgive you.”

The words struck him like a lightning bolt. “...You do?”

“Yes,” you said. You still weren’t smiling, but something in your eyes changed. They looked lighter, like storm clouds had receded. “I mean, it certainly was off-putting at first, and I definitely don’t recommend that you do this to any other ladies. You’re very lucky that I'm so merciful.”

You smiled a little bit there. It reminded him of the sun peeking over gray clouds. He always felt a sense of disappointment at that sight, but right now all he wanted to do was to carve the image into his memory.

“I would never,” He was so elated that he almost missed the first part of what you said. “Wait, did you say, ‘at first’?”

Now you looked embarrassed. “I got used to it at some point, but then I started thinking about how you must feel, and that made me realize...I haven’t been fulfilling our promise to be friends at all.”

After you said that, you proceeded to eat three more watermelon cubes in succession. He noticed that your cheeks were dusted with red.

“How did you think I felt?” What a novel thing to have someone try to guess his emotions. He unconsciously leaned forward a little, curious to hear what you were going to say.

You seemed a bit taken aback and lowered your eyes. “Well...I thought you might have been feeling a little hurt and confused about why I kept pushing you away, and probably quite disgruntled about being treated like a child who doesn’t know his limits. I’m guessing it’s that mix of emotions that made you behave in such an uncharacteristic manner.”

“Uncharacteristic manner? I’m curious to know just what you think is in character for me.”

“A gentleman who knows well enough to stare at young ladies so intently.”

Neuvillette cannot deny that he felt a jab in his heart at your words, but he knew that he deserved it. It felt like he was back in his early days, stumbling blindly through the basic tenets of human etiquette. He was about to apologize once again, but then you continued.

“But I think...you probably also felt lonely,” your voice was softer now, like the gentle whisper of the rain. Despite that, it reached his ears clearly and distinctly. “And I don’t want you to feel that way. Especially in your own home. So if you want...you can accompany me when I’m out in the garden. Or continue to watch me from the window. Although, this is your house, so you don’t really need my permission to do anything...”

“Ah, but how can I do that, Madame? I can’t possibly intrude into your kingdom without your express permission.”

“...Huh?” You stared at him quizzically.

“Never mind that,” he shook his head. The watermelon looked vibrantly red and juicy, even more so than before. He used a toothpick to bring one to his mouth. The sweetness filled his mouth and quenched the dryness he hadn’t even realized was there.

“Was I right?” you asked, putting your chin in your hands. “Did I guess your feelings correctly? I’m not very good at this kind of thing.”

Neuvillette thought your question over in his mind. Hurt, confusion, disgruntlement...those emotions might have flitted through his heart like minnows at one point.

But loneliness...that was far more than an emotion to him. It was his natural state of being, one that he had chosen to take on. It had been with him so long that when it was pointed out to him, it became a revelation all over again.

You looked at him expectantly. Your eyes were like mirrors. Lying to them would be lying to himself, and that was something the Iudex didn’t do.

“You’re right,” he said, gazing straight into those mirrors. “I was feeling somewhat lonely.”

You blinked. Then you closed your eyes and nodded. “Okay then,” you said and stood up. “Let’s go look at the sunflowers together.”

The rain had stopped a short time ago. The sky was blue again, and the remaining rain clouds were quickly dissipating.

Neuvillette also stood up and winced. His hair got caught in the gaps of his chair and he had to untangle it. You didn’t appear to notice.

The two of you went to stand at the sunflower plot side by side. The sprouts were small and weighed down by the raindrops, but they continued to aim upwards all the same.

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#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #genshin fluff #the winding path of fate

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