#adrien brody x reader

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Need - An Adrien Brody/Reader Smut Short.

HAPPY FRIDAY.

Words - 718

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“Please, Adrien. Please.” 

Your need sends pulses through him, chuckling deeply as his teeth gently crush a bite just beneath your jaw, hands roaming over your skin, his cock gliding through the soaking mess of your folds. You whimper, the thick head of him toying with your clit, a bonfire of lust flickering at the base of your spine, dying to feel his cock sate what his tongue and fingers have worked you into.  

“You sound a little desperate,” he hums, tongue flicking over where your pulse flutters, kisses descending your throat. “Is this what you need?” He pushes into you, just enough to part your walls, the petals of your cunt yielding to him. You squirm, greedy for more, watching him shake his head as he slips out again. “Un-uh. Not yet.” 

Your hips rise, but he pushes you down again, taking your arms when you make a grab to haul him against you, pinning them above your head. He might be slight in his size, but he’s much stronger than he looks, holding you down, his eyes a green blaze of lust as he stares down at you, cock dragging deliciously back and forth over your clit.  

Every ridge, every thickened vein stimulates you perfectly, reminding you of how he feels when he’s daggering your insides, your cunt sparking, pulsing around nothing. You’re dying to feel him breach you, your arousal sending wicked glints of need over your nerves, a harder push making pleasure fork like lightning, your clit twitching as he takes his hand and steers the leaking head of his cock to circle over your bundle.  

His breath shudders against your throat, tongue licking a circle, kisses pressed as your bodies rock against one another. It’s killing him, not being inside of you, but the gratification of the eventual satiation is more than worth the amping anticipation.  

“Mmm, so wet for me, honey.” Those words send shocks through your blood, imagining how slick you’ll get him when he finally gives you that beautiful, thick cock, teasing your opening with it again as his mouth falls to yours, kisses soft and smoky, your little whimpers drank back as your tongues swirl.  

The hand remaining in tight hold against your wrist releases its grip, fingers patting down your arms, a flurry of goose pimples flecking your flesh. He’s still sliding against your folds, his muscles cording beneath his skin, sharp gleams intensifying when he finally fills you. Your breath stills in your chest, your walls stirred and stretched, an almost helpless groan filling your ears as he bottoms out, enjoys those little twitches around him, and then drags back so slowly, it sends a hot chill prickling through you.  

“God, you feel so good.” he moans, nuzzling you, arrowing into your centre a little quicker. Heat flashes over your nerves, your nails raking through his hair, kissing him with thirst. He’s heavy within you, the thick of him splitting you wide, remaking you around him, pushing deeper, the knife edge of pleasure slicing deep as the ecstasy of him finally fucking you sizzles up your spine 

It pervades richly when he sits back on his heels, eyes falling to watch the sight of himself arrowed deep into you, cock glossy with the honey of your cunt, his thumb dropping to rub circles upon your clit. Your arch, riding the current of utter bliss, your hips rolling up against each thrust, mouth dropped open as your cries fill the air.  

Your walls grip on him like a vice, pulling him deeper into the wet flutter of you, the pace less contained now as he loses himself to the mist of heat radiating beneath his skin. His thumb pushes harder, and it sends a jolt skittering through you, your wails beautiful as he watches you fall apart around his cock.  

Your crest burns neon through your nerves, a sky of colours painted over you as it topples you completely. The scream it pulls from you has him twitching, and he becomes caught in the tide of it, cock pressed filthily deep into the rhythmic clasping of you, spilling hard, everything tense undoing and softening to fluid bliss. You both swim in it, adrift on the endless ocean, panting against one another.    

Some needs truly are worth waiting for.  

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being married to Adrien Brody, and both of you being petty after an argument.

Every couple had their arguments. After the Honeymoon phase passed, and real life set in and you acknowledged that not all of your partner’s flaws were as cute as you once thought, or that their views on something had changed so it didn’t suit yours, or well-ingrained bad habits weren’t going away as fast as you had hoped. Like your own husband, Adrien, who had a habit of being perfectly on time for everything and everyone - except for you.

Late to another one of your dinner dates, making you sit by yourself for over half an hour after the reservation. He came just in time, so you didn’t get kicked from the table, but regardless, you were furious. However, you tried to enjoy the rest of the dinner, the delicious food, the great atmosphere. You’d punish him when you got home.

You gave him the good old silent treatment. You didn’t talk to him on the car ride home, letting him listen to the radio. He apologized a dozen times but you gave no acknowledgement or forgiveness for any of it. Stare straight ahead. Say nothing. It continued into the evening, when you went to take your bath and then went to bed early. And then it even continued on into the morning when Adrien woke up, wished you a good morning, then went downstairs to start on his breakfast while you got ready for the day. Maybe the next day was taking it a bit too far but - you were still hurt. If you had been one of his friends, he would have made sure to show up on time.

You descended down the stairs and heard the sounds of - really annoying music, actually. One of those bands that Adrien liked that you didn’t. You had compromised on it, he agreed to listen to it mainly on his headphones, but now it was loud enough to fill the entire main floor of your house. Your nose curled at the sound but you refused to give in.

“Good morning Mrs. Brody,” Adrien said, being a little too cheerful. You narrowed your eyes at him but continued your morning routine of going to the kitchen and making your breakfast. “Don’t you look beautiful today, Mrs. Brody.”

If anything, he was annoying you more. You didn’t give in. You popped two pieces of your favorite bread into the toaster, and then got the jam out of the fridge. Normally, it was easy to open. But as you gave the lid a twist, it was really stuck on there. You know you didn’t close it that tight. And then you spotted your husband out of the corner of your eye, lingering in the doorway, trying to look as innocent as possible.

You put down the jar then turned to your husband with your hands on your hips. “Did you seriously tighten the lid on my jam jar?”

“No idea what you’re talking about, Mrs Brody.”

Your glare eventually turned into something else, a look of amusement, and then you started to laugh. His revenge to your silent treatment was honestly hilarious, and you couldn’t stay mad at him for too long. He started to laugh along with you, coming in close and opened the jam jar with only a little difficulty. “You’re such a - I don’t even have words,” You said, shaking your head, still laughing.

“Don’t hate me but I did the pickle jar as well.”

Requested by: Anonymous

[zorkyyy]

" you're doing so well.. "

warnings: smut, adrien brody x gn!reader (gender isn't specified) , dirty talking, p in v sex (wrap it before ya' tap it folks) .. it's jus' pure filth.

“ fuck .. “ adrien mumbled with a wearied gaze, noticeable it was – it wasn’t easy to deny within such a predicament like this. the repulsive noises of flesh against flesh filled the room, the sweet melody of your sweet moans filling the air like an intoxicating aroma. your name spills past his mouth as his shaft expels itself into your tight cunt, he favoured the sensation of your spongey yet gooey walls wrapping around his cock. “ – adrien .. “ you began to murmur his name like a sacred chant, the pleasure seemingly overwhelming your already tired mind. 

his large calloused hand reaches towards your face, cupping the soft cushiony flesh under his roughened fingers. “ you��re doing so well.. so damn fuckin’ well.. “ he had been one to enjoy conversating you through the whole entire situation, he roughens his pace which each word mumbled and sent past his mouth. “ gonna cum for me?.. all over my fucking cock? please.. be my obedient thing and cum all over it.. “ he grunts almost savagely, his mindset gravely lost to the waves of pleasure he had seemed to succumb to within now.  

you weep out with brows furrowed – your thighs quaking as you feel that “ imaginary “ knot starting to unravel itself in your stomach. he extends his head forward and happens to burrow his face into the nape of your neck, the infatuation he had for you was immense. his tongue protrudes past his lips and allows itself to slither against the sweetened flesh of your neck. 

that added sensation causing that knot to finally unravel, you cum and you immediately latch your arms around his body tightly. your fingernails seemingly piercing the flesh of his back as you feel your rushed sex gushing all over his shaft. he knits his brows and his mouth drops agape, his eyelids screwing shut against one another. “ oh fuck, holy fuck.. “ he grumbles as his pace grows sloppy. his cock plunging into your cunt in an uncalculated intent – his shaft throbs as the pace finally grows to a standstill. a low and seemingly hefty grumble passing his lips as he spills his seed within your gooey tight walls. 

“ fuck.. fuck.. “ he pulls himself back a bit and acknowledges your weakened state. “ lemme’ take a good fucking look at you.. “ he grumbles, examining your face with a tired smirk. “ you did so good, you know that? so good.. so obedient for me.. “ you couldn’t help but feel rather flustered despite the state you happened to be wrapped up in; so, you smile tiredly as your chest heaves. 

you knew the aftercare was absolutely going to be great. 

[adrienbrodyfics]

Open Up

NSFW

Adrien Brody x reader

You’re both naked, chest to chest. The way he teased the clothes off your body made you just crave him more. You wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him closer. He chuckled and raised his eyebrows.

“Is there something you want, beautiful?” His green eyes gazed into yours with a knowing flame burning in them.

“You.” Your lips quivered

He smiled into kissing you, running his slender fingers down your curves. You bit his bottom lip and sucked on it.

“Naughty girl.” He smirked.

You felt blush rushing to your cheek as giggles escaped your lips. His hands groped your ass and he pushed you into him. You started to grind against erecting cock, feeling it become engorged as you continued.

“I have a feeling my sweet girl is wet.” He raised his eyebrows at you as your eyes widened.

“Shall I check?” He crawls down your legs as your shut them as tight as you can.

“There’s no need for that.” You squealed, keeping your legs tight together.

“C’mon, baby. Open up for me.” He dug his fingers between your legs, tickling at your inner thighs.

You giggled and tried to hold still, but you eventually gave in and opened your legs, revealing a glistening sight to Adrien.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” He clicked his tongue in fake disappointment.

You couldn’t stop giggling and blushing from his teasing.

“You have made quite mess, my dear. I better help clean you up.” He licked down your wet pussy, making your arch your back immediately.

You moaned louder as you felt his large hands wrap around each hip as he made you grind into his mouth. You became wetter and wetter with each thrust and his tongue twirling into your clit before he sucked intensely.

“I’m so close.” You nearly screamed through the noise.

“Good girl.” He moaned into your pussy, sending vibrations only to make you more turned on.

You placed your hand on his head, pushing him deeper into you. As he kept pleasuring, you felt the build off about to pay off with your clit throbbing

“I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out with moans following as you came into his mouth.

He released your hips and lifted his head, his chin and mouth dripping in your wetness. He caught his breath before leaning back down and lapping you up clean. You twitched and squealed as he did so, and you felt his smile on your inner thighs from all of your noise and movement.

He crawled back up to your face to cuddle you when he was done.

“You did so good for me.” He cooed into your ear.

[everymangetshiswish420]

Whatever the pic said 😇

[reiwanwan]

Beneath the streetlamp

While walking the streets of London, Y/n Shelby unexpectedly encounters a grief-stricken Luca Changretta. As Luca reveals the pain driving his revenge against the Shelbys, y/n offers him quiet compassion.

content includes: Mentions of angels, slight violence, Y/n is referred to as a woman, Y/n has a complex relationship with Luca.

Y/n walked the dimly lit streets of London, her footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestones. The city had a way of feeling both alive and desolate at night, the flickering gas lamps casting long shadows that danced along the walls of the narrow alleyways. She had no particular destination in mind, simply wandering to clear her thoughts, to momentarily escape the constant tension that surrounded the Shelby family.

As she turned a corner, her heart skipped a beat. Standing under the faint glow of a streetlamp was Luca Changretta, his figure unmistakable even from a distance. He was smoking, the ember of his cigarette glowing red in the darkness. Y/n’s first instinct was to turn back, to avoid any confrontation, but she had barely taken a step when she heard his voice.

“Y/n,” Luca called out, his tone almost casual, as if they were old friends meeting by chance.

She froze, cursing her luck. There was no escape now. Reluctantly, she turned to face him, forcing a calm expression as she approached.

“Luca,” she greeted him, her voice steady. She kept her distance, though, her eyes never leaving his.

He smiled at her, a cold, almost predatory smile, but there was something behind it—something darker, more tormented. “Out for a stroll?” he asked, taking another drag from his cigarette.

Y/n nodded, keeping her answers short. “Yes, just needed some air.”

Luca exhaled the smoke slowly, watching her with those sharp eyes of his. “A dangerous time to be out alone, don’t you think?”

She didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she looked at him directly and asked, “Are you going to kill me now?”

Luca’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “No, not tonight.”

They stood there in a tense silence, the distant sounds of the city barely reaching them. Y/n waited, sensing that Luca had more to say. She knew that despite his casual demeanor, there was a storm brewing inside him.

He broke the silence first. “Do you know why I’m doing all this, Y/n? Why I came here, why I won’t stop until every Shelby is dead?”

Y/n said nothing, simply watching him. She had heard it all before—revenge, blood for blood. It was the code they all lived by, the cycle of violence that seemed never-ending.

Luca’s expression darkened, and for the first time, Y/n saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Arthur killed my father,” he said, his voice low and filled with anger. “He took him from me. And now I’m going to take everything from him.”

Y/n remained silent, though she felt a pang of sorrow for him. She understood his pain, his desire for vengeance. But she also knew that nothing good would come of it.

Luca’s composure suddenly shattered. His face twisted with emotion as he began to cry, his tears mingling with a bitter smile. He looked like a man unraveling, caught between rage and despair.

Y/n watched quietly, her heart heavy. This was not the Luca Changretta she had expected to see—a cold-blooded killer, yes, but this? This was a man broken by grief, consumed by the need to avenge his father.

Without thinking, Y/n reached out, her hand gently resting on Luca’s tear-streaked cheek. He flinched at her touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, he suddenly grabbed her, burying his face against her stomach as he sobbed.

Y/n stood there, looking down at him, her hand still on his face. She didn’t say anything, didn’t try to comfort him with words. She knew that sometimes, words only made things worse.

As Luca cried, he looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes, a strange, almost pleading look on his face. “Are you an angel?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Are you an angel sent down by God to make me feel alive?”

Y/n smiled, but it was a sad, pitiful smile. She didn’t know what to say to that—how could she, when the man in front of her was so lost, so desperate for something, anything, to ease his pain?

“Pray,” she told him softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luca nodded, as if in a trance, and he began to pray, his words flowing in Italian. Y/n didn’t understand all of it, but she could hear the anguish in his voice, the way he begged for some kind of solace, some kind of peace.

When he finished, he looked at her with a mix of hope and despair. Y/n knew she should walk away, leave him to his grief and his madness. But something kept her there, rooted to the spot, her hand still holding his face.

“What do you want?” she asked, using the ability she didn’t fully understand herself.

Luca blinked, as if startled by the question. He seemed to think for a moment, his gaze dropping to her lips. “A kiss,” he said finally, his voice barely audible.

Y/n hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she should refuse, should walk away before this went any further. But then she saw the look in Luca’s eyes—how broken he was, how much he needed something, anything, to hold on to.

Still holding his face, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his. It was a soft, almost chaste kiss, but it lingered, a moment of fleeting connection between two lost souls.

When she pulled back, Luca’s eyes were still closed, as if savoring the moment. Then, slowly, he opened them, and the cold, dangerous Luca Changretta was back.

“Do you still want to kill me?” Y/n asked, her voice quiet.

“Yes,” Luca replied without hesitation, though there was a softness in his tone that hadn’t been there before.

Y/n nodded, letting go of his face. “Then remember that,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness, before turning and walking away, leaving Luca alone with his demons.

[brazilian-vampyra]

I MEAN RIGHT??? RIGHT???

[cosmicanakin]

𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 | prologue.

adult content | minors do not interact.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. james kelly x female reader.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. returning home to new orlean's help your mother with funeral arrangements and grieve the loss of your sister, lauren. you find solace in your niece and nephew - her kids.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). angst┆death of a loved one┆grief┆emotional distress.

kari's corner ⟢ ݁⋆ this is basically an introduction for the series! but don't worry james will make his appearance very soon <3

the sky was overcast and dreary as you looked out the window of the plane, matching how heavily your heart felt in your chest. you had gotten the frantic call from your mom just a day ago, unintelligible sobs coming through the speaker as you struggled to make out what she was trying to say. once you had managed to calm her down enough, the words still rang in your head — your older sister lauren was dead.

shot down in the middle of the street on her way to work, a senseless act of violence that had ripped another loved one from your life. you and lauren had always been close growing up, her taking on more of a motherly role for you after your dad passed when you were young. the news had devastated you, a raw ache settling deep in your bones that only growing distance from new orleans could numb. but now you were returning, having to face the painful reality you had tried to escape for so long.

the cab pulled up outside the familiar green house you had spent your childhood in. everything looked the same yet felt wholly foreign now. you paid the driver and got out, dragging your suitcase behind you as you walked slowly up the weathered wooden steps of the porch. you could hear noise from inside — no doubt your mom was surrounded by friends and family offering their condolences. steeling yourself, you rang the bell and waited.

the door swung open to reveal your mom, her usual brightness dimmed by tired eyes puffy from tears. "oh honey," she breathed, pulling you into a tight embrace. you hugged her back just as fiercely, both of you finding solace in the comfort of family. after a few moments, she pulled away, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "come in, sweetie. everyone's been expecting you."

you nodded, following her inside. the living room was filled with more people than you could count, all turning to offer you sad smiles or hugs as you made your way through. your mom led you to the kitchen, putting on a pot of coffee. "i'm just so glad you're here. it helps to have you for lauren's children."

at the mention of them, a fresh wave of grief crashed over you. aiden and lily, your beloved nephew and niece, who had just lost their mother in the worst way. "how are they doing?" you asked gently.

your mom sighed. "as well as can be expected i suppose. aiden tries to be strong for lily but i know he's hurting inside. they're upstairs if you want to go see them."

you nodded, giving her shoulder a squeeze before heading to the steps. you climbed slowly, dreading the pain you knew seeing them would bring but needing to be there all the same. stopping outside lauren's childhood bedroom, now occupied by her kids, you took a steadying breath before knocking lightly.

"come in!" came aiden's voice.

you opened the door to find them sitting side by side on the bed, coloring books and crayons scattered around. lily's eyes lit up when she saw you. "auntie!"

you managed a small smile for her sake, coming over to sit on lily's side and pulling them both into a hug. "i'm so sorry i couldn't be here sooner."

aiden just nodded, ever the serious eight year old. but lily clung to you, always the more openly affectionate of the two. "mommy's in heaven with grandpa now, right?"

a lump formed in your throat at her innocent question. "yeah sweetheart, she is. and i know she'd want you both to know how much she loves you."

you talked with them for a while, trying your best to comfort the grieving children as they grieved the mother they would never see growing up. eventually, though their growing tiredness became evident, and you put them both to bed with soft kisses to their foreheads before retreating back downstairs.

the crowd had dispersed some by then, leaving your mom washing dishes in the kitchen. you moved to help her dry. "how are the kids holding up, really?" she asked cautiously.

you sighed. "well they're alright? i guess. aiden seems to be shouldering a lot though, trying not to show how sad he truly is. and lily... she just misses her mommy." your voice broke on the last words.

your mom pulled you into her side, rubbing your back comfortingly. "they have you now though. and i know your sister would be grateful to have you here for them."

you nodded mutely, not trusting yourself to speak. the weight of responsibility for lauren's kids now rested heavily on your shoulders. you couldn't imagine their pain at such a tender age, having the stability and love of their mother ripped away. but you were determined to be there for them, to honor your sister's memory by helping to raise them the best you could.

the following week, preparations blurred by in a haze of funeral arrangements and grieving relatives. you focused your energy on aiden and lily, keeping them entertained and trying to give them as much normalcy as possible through the sadness. the service was a sombre affair, tears falling freely as lauren's casket was lowered into the ground beside your father's plot.

after, you helped your mom host the gathering back at the house. old friends regaled stories of lauren through watery smiles, no doubt wondering how someone so full of life could be taken so prematurely. as the crowd dispersed in the evening, a heavy tiredness settled over you. all you wanted was rest to escape the grief for a while.

"why don't you go on and get some sleep, hon. i've got things handled down here," your mom insisted, ever perceptive of your drained state.

you gave her a grateful hug. "thanks, mom. i love you." you head upstairs and collapse onto the bed with a tired sigh. the soft mattress enveloped you in comfort, lulling your mind towards sleep.

just then there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. "come in," you called quietly.

the door opened to reveal your niece lily, clutching her favorite stuffed animal tightly. her eyes were filled with tears as she looked up at you. "i had a bad dream, auntie. can i be with you?"

you gave her a gentle smile and opened your arms. "of course sweet girl. come here."

lily hurried over and climbed into bed next to you. you wrapped her in your embrace, rubbing her back soothingly until her tears subsided. "it's okay, you're safe now. i'll be right here all night to keep the bad dreams away."

eventually, her trembling slowed as exhaustion overtook her small body once more. you placed a soft kiss to her forehead, watching as she drifted into peaceful slumber curled up against your side. finding comfort in caring for lauren's children helped dull some of the aches in your own heart. for now, sleep was what you both needed most. and so with lily's quiet breaths filling the silence, you closed your eyes and surrendered to rest at last.

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 — comment or send an ask to be put on the taglist.

﹙ @starlitblair @emotionallybruisedx @anakin-pilled @spcncershasting @freezerbride95 ◞ ⟡ ݁.﹒ ﹚

[hoe4wesanderson]

hi, it’s me again. just wanted to say that i love your blog almost as much as i love wes movies; you make such insightful comments on each of the characters i can’t even believe it.

anyway, please could you write something for jack whitman? maybe something where him and reader meet on the train in india and have a cute little love affair? thanks!! <3

Elk Cracker—Jack Whitman x reader

summary: Jack finds you crying on the train, all alone. Love pursues.

a/n:..um brother I am SO sorry this took me like 7 months to write, I got logged out of this account and I couldn’t be assed logging back in. forgive me pookie. anywayyyy I hope the 10 people this will please love it!

warnings: his gf doesn’t exist or Rita( SORRRYYYYY), it’s pretty soft, talk about jacking off, crying, love, making out, Jack is as accurate as I could get him without being a creep, just flufff (for now), they get freaky at the end presumably, they just just met so it’s a tad awkward.

word count: 1.5k

The night was cold and the train was even colder, Jack was contemplating the meaning of his stupid life while looking out the window. Peter was munching on a cracker like a hungry elk, and Francis was.. jack hadn’t actually seen him for a while now he thought of it. Not that he cared, he was honestly itching for a release. A sweet, American-..

“I’m getting some air, alone.” Peters soft, slightly pissed off, voice mumbled as he stood up to leave. Jack nodded and hid a smile, this was perfect. He had the carriage to himself, perfect time to jack off a bit and free some stress.

The man reached down to unzip his fly, he didn’t even bother glancing around to see if anybody was watching. He figured the absolute nut job tourists around here could use a good show, might do them some good. Jack wasn’t even hard yet, it was pathetic and he knew it, but he was a man after all. So he pulled down his boxers.

But before jack could get to helping himself out he heard something that caught his mind, a soft sobbing. He cocked his head back in surprise, who the hell was crying at 2 in the morning? He swallowed his lust and zipped up his pants. This would have to wait.—

Jack made his was towards the soft cries, rubbing his groggy eyes as he passed shirtless old tourists. Why was nobody else concerned about this? He sighed as he walked, silently hoping he didn’t run into Francis or Peter. Jack made his way to the very end of the carriage. He was confused, where the hell were these sobs coming from?

He turned his head and that’s when he saw the suspect, you. You were leaning against the wall, crying your eyes out as you held yourself in a ball. Jack stared for a few seconds as he bit back the urge to take a photo.

This was poetic gold. He pretended to bump into something, sighing and reaching down to grab what he had dropped. You had only noticed him just then, like he had planned. Your eyes widened and you were quick to wipe away your tears, looking the exact opposite way. Jack stared awkwardly before clearing his throat.

“You uh..you’re crying.” He pointed out bluntly, looking at you.

You stared up at Jack, your cheeks flushing slightly from the embarrassment of being caught. “Oh, um, I didn’t mean for anyone to see…” Your voice trailed off as you fumbled with your sleeves, trying to hide the redness in your eyes.

Jack shuffled his feet awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to proceed. “I didn’t mean to intrude,” he said, his voice a bit hesitant. “I just heard, um, crying and thought maybe… I don’t know, maybe you needed someone to talk to?”

You looked at him, surprised by his offer. “I didn’t expect anyone to notice,” you admitted quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Jack gave a small, reassuring smile, trying to be comforting despite his own awkwardness. “Well, if you, um, want to talk or something, I’m here. I mean, you don’t have to, but…”

You took a deep breath, finding some comfort in his presence. “It’s just been one of those nights where everything feels too much. I thought getting away for a bit would help, but…”

Jack’s gaze softened as he listened. “Sometimes trips don’t turn out the way we expect. If you want to, um, talk about it, I’m here. Or if you just need some quiet..I’ll just go.”

“Thanks..” you mumbled.

Jack smiled faintly, relieved to see you opening up a bit. “Alright, I’ll be here. And, uh, if you want to hear somethin’ silly or distracting, just let me know. I’m, um, pretty good at that too.”

You managed a small, shy smile.

Jack gave a light nod and settled into a nearby seat, giving you the space you needed while remaining close enough to be supportive. The two of you sat in quiet companionship, and the train’s rhythmic hum seemed to make the night a bit more bearable.

A few beats passed where nothing was said, just silence. Until eventually in the silence came your voice.

“I’m y/n..” you declared softly and shrugged, looking over at him.

Jack perked up a bit and tilted his head at your words, he mulled over your words before he finally smiled to himself and nodded.

“Jack.” He replied softly, you smiled at his name and moved so you could sit near him. He stared you down and smiled right back. He missed sweet moments like this, he was a tad touch starved to be fair. He moved to boldly wipe a tear away from your face.

“Pretty faces like yours look beautiful with tears on them, but I bet you look cute without them too, hm?” He whispered and you felt a soft blush cover your cheeks. You giggled bashfully and shrugged your shoulders. He was a little cheesy but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

Jack felt bold in the moonlight, maybe if was the aura of the air, but he felt like kissing you. Slowly he moved a strand away from your face and you blushed some more.

“A kiss might help..” You whispered and averted your gaze, he smiled and nodded his head. He leaned forward and that was that.

your lips met his and you both sunk into a soft kiss, the sound of smooches filled the air and if hearts could fly like those cartoons—they most definitely would. Jack pulled you closer and put you onto of him, leaning himself into the edge of the seat and the wall so you were draped on him. A weird position but it was comfortable and it was honestly calming you down.

You and him stayed like that for a a while until the telltale sign of a man clearing his throat jump scared you and Jack. Jack looked past you to see Peter, who looked like he’d seen a ghost. Although he wasn’t all surprised.

Jack swallowed and gave him and wave, and then in the heat of it all moved to kiss you again.

Peter sighed and moved to walk off again, leaving you and Jack to your thing. Jack smiled against the kiss and pulled back to stare at you.

“I’m going to take you like an elk eating a cracker.” He drawled out, and you furrowed your brows. A giggle escaped you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked and he started to laugh as well, shrugging his shoulders.

“I dunno, just wanted to make you laugh.” He admitted.

———

And at that, that single joke, was the start of everything and nothing. Some may say causal holiday hookup, but the postcards you and him sent each-other after the trip proved otherwise.

[nymphastoriasblog]

AGING WITH MODERN!LUCA CHANGRETTA

since i love him so much, i was daydreaming about luca as an old man...

warnings: luca changretta

pairing: modern!luca changretta x afab!reader

requested by: none

nymphastoria’s masterlist

buy the chaotic author a coffee ☕️

gif by: @darkcrystals

as soon as you got married, luca made it clear he wanted kids, and a lot of them

it was his biggest joy to come home and see the house crowded with his children

and he would always, ALWAYS, ask them for a welcome hug

luca was always a very affective father. no matter how grownup his children were, he would always be very lovely with each of them

and very understanding too.

if you had daughters, they would always come to luca to cry about their boyfriends. he would listen patiently and give them his bests advices, cheering them up

“i don’t want to see you crying for him, ok?” “you’re everything for me, don’t let a boy dict your value”

luca would bring every so often small gifts for you. he would keep it hidden on his briefcase until it’s your bedtime.

and your smile would make everything worth it for him.

luca always kept his business out of the house, and he would left the business for his nephews and cousins. he didn’t want this future for your kids.

luca was very emotional when the first kid went to college. he mourned for a long time.

of course, your child wouldn’t step into the college if luca hadn’t pay for them a nice apartment downtown, give them an adorable car and paid most of the college’s fees.

something you always admired in luca was how devoted he was on his family. he genuinely wanted every of his children to succeed and have a good future. that was the reason he worked so much.

when the youngest kid moved out, luca was devastated. he would go to their bedroom and stare at the plushies for minutes, even hours, and he would be so disturbed by the silence in your house.

shortly after, he got “retired”, because he would now spend more time at home.

you were used to have children around you all the time, but having luca around was the same as having a baby.

not because he wanted attention, but because he would make a mess wherever he passed by. leaving a track of chaos and frustration.

it started when he wanted to build a birdhouse for the garden. luca decided he would make it in his mahogany desk.

you could hear him cursing in italian under his breath. he gave up on this project a few days after beginning it.

after the birdhouse fiasco, he decided your garden was needing a small pond.

luca was really excited about it. and it really went well.

he placed the rocks around the pond, make a little fountain to keep the water running and bought ornamental fishes to put in it.

you gladly did the decor, putting flowers around and a few crystals.

after lunch, luca would place a chair in your patio and would watch birds coming to the pond to drink the water and bath. he would sit there and look at his creation proudly.

he walked each of his daughters to the aisle with a big and proud smile, followed with teary eyes, with tears of joy.

when your first grandchild was born, luca was over the stars.

during your daughter/daughter-in-law’s pregnancy, luca was around them all the time. he would provide them anything they needed.

during the labor, luca was the first one to arrive in the hospital.

he would be the type of granddad to spoil the kid when the parents aren’t looking. like giving them a candy before lunch, or when they would spent the night at your house, luca would let them watch tv until late night.

he taught italian to his grandkids as they were growing up. at some time, he would stop speaking english at all around them, just to stimulate their italian.

luca absolutely ADORED it when you had family gatherings and when the whole family would be together for a holiday. it was his favorite parts of the year.

when you got more older, luca bought a beach house in another state. you’d spent part of the year in the beach house, just enjoying each other company, retelling stories and gossiping about people you know.

as older as he’s got, luca would be meaner while gossiping. he would slay people with his words, and that would got you laughing endlessly.

all luca wished was granted.

he’d pass away first. it would be peacefully, with his family around his bed, and you holding his hands. he would say a few things before, like how proud he was of his family, how much he loved each of you and how everything was worth it.

after his passing, the family kept together. everyone very close, just like how he wanted. your kids were well raised.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Softly Sinful - An Adrien Brody/Reader One Shot Story.

Bit of Adrien smut for an otherwise quiet, Sunday afternoon, besties? Here ya go!

Words - 1,448

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You always wondered how it’d feel, how a man who kissed you until you lost your breath would delight you when those kisses finally found their way between your legs. You imagined it on the first date, the second, and now after the third, it’s virtually the only thing on your mind.  

In truth, it was likely longer ago. Before you even met him, you witnessed the tongue waggle scene in the movie he starred in, See How They Run. It was salaciously rapid. It made you clamp your thighs. It elicited a primal noise in the back of your throat you knew could only be matched if you experienced the man actually using the weapon in his mouth upon you in reality.  

And now, here you are, pinned beneath him. He has the most gorgeous body you’ve ever seen, lean muscles concealed beneath peachy soft skin, your hands delighting in their glide as they explore the expanse of him. He shivers against your touch, mouth leaving yours to rain keen over your flesh. 

Beneath his kisses, ever lowering, you bloom, like a flower opening in the morning light. The warmth of his mouth is delectable against your nipples, each stiffened peak sucked and licked, his big, strong hands sliding down your sides.   

Despite him being lean, he feels heavy atop you, his body shutting out the rest of the world, a barrier between everything and you, carved muscles flexing in his back a beautiful display your eyes feast upon as the late afternoon light. And to think, it was simply meant to be coffee and a walk, why you met him today. It became abundant halfway through said stroll that you both had something much more vigorous in mind, how to spend a perfect Spring afternoon. 

Those golden rays shine much like your arousal, brightening beneath him, his tongue dancing over your hips as you shudder with anticipation. You need the full awakening now, legs parting more for him, your pubic mound kissed as your thighs are stroked, a gasp fluttering over your lips.   

The anticipation? It’s murder upon your senses.  

The sweeping flush of pleasure is immediate and intense, his tongue gliding into your slit with the firmest of licks, your scent like a heady fragrance to him, your taste bathing his tongue like a fine wine. Oh, god. Finally. The blade of his tongue stiffens against you, your body rolling up against his mouth, your clit starting to harden as it’s bathed in the warm wet of incessant circles, forcing gasps and little whines from your mouth.  

A bass rumble is added when he moans around a mouthful of your cunt, intense eyes opening to find yours over the rise of your breasts, sunlit moss green staring at you intently before like the feathers of a crow wing, his thick, dark lashes flutter to conceal the emerald blaze within, closing as his cheeks hollow and he sucks at you with hunger.   

You stray from him slightly, the pleasure making you wiggle away, body wracked with oversensitivity. His hands grip your thighs, holding you still as his mouth buries into your slick heat again, so firm and consuming, you cannot help but whimper. 

His mouth conjures the most intense heat, tingles and swells of pleasure prickling your clit as he rolls his tongue up and down, lazy and soft, alternated with the firm quickening you’ve been fantasising about, your soft moans helpless and sweet, pattering the air with his heavy grunts of lust.   

You taste beautiful to him, like sharp caramel, sweet with a kick, a flavour his mouth constantly craves as his tongue burrows inside of you, nose pushing against your bud as he tastes you on the inside.

Fuck. He’s even better than you could have ever imagined.  

He continues to eat you rapaciously, like a half-starved man, the slick soft of your cunt his nourishment as his tongue laps and licks, swallowing your dew hungrily. Your legs shake against the sides of his head as beauty unimaginable floods you, your hands tugging his dark hair as you cry out. 

His eyes open, his pupils bleeding black into green, tongue beating hard against your clit, seeking out the release you so crave, beckoning it to him like sorcerer chasing out a spirit. His lips ensnare your nub, sucking, his groans vibrating, making you shriek as your body beads sweat, everything coiling and tightening. 

His thirst for your release almost matches yours, the throbbing pounding through you as your muscles tense, your legs writhing against his head as each soft pant signals your ascent, closer, and closer, and closer. His mouth is the shore your waves break upon, euphoria unravelling as it surges, engulfs and then washes away again, slowly retreating, leaving you breathless, shaking beneath the kisses he slowly lays a delicate trail of, sucking upon your nipples in turn before his mouth meets yours.  

“Fucking hell.” 

He snorts a laugh at your reaction, leaning to kiss the side of your neck.  

“You’re too good at that!” you then exclaim, your abs quivering at the feel of him, pressing hard against your hip. “I think you need to let me return the favour.”  

“Mm,” he hums, shifting, cock sliding into you fully, knocking the breath from your lungs. “Later.” You mouth falls open, gasping on a soft moan, his mouth drinking the noise back in a heated kiss. His hands roam your legs, pushing them back, the action making him sink deeper into the clutch of your cunt. It’s slow, but almost dizzying, his body blanketing yours as you slide your legs to rest against his inner elbows, his hips driving against you with a sharper punt.  

It sends sparks crackling up your spine, his cock dragging you, tingles suffusing, a steel-edged pleasure cutting into you deep. Your soft little cries quicken him, and the pleasure of it is sharp-toothed, biting into your veins, his mouth sucking dark welts upon your neck, each breath eliciting the hint of a rumbling groan that sets your nerves to sizzle.  

Is there anything sexier in this world than hearing the deep moans of a man thriving upon being balls deep in the soaking mess of your cunt?  

The strong twitches of your walls massage his shaft, and he loses himself to it for a few moments, driving back and forth with faster, powerfully delivered thrusts, teeth nipping your earlobe as your nails graze his arms like sensual daggers. It feels like magic snapping over his skin, but he pulls himself back, slowing again, not wanting it to be over before it’s begun. He could lose himself to you easily, though, much too quickly, staring down at you, hands stroking your face as you both pant against the messy kisses you share.  

You clench down firmly on the weight of him inside you, hips rising from the bed, making it near impossible for him to continue exerting that control, your body pleading with his for greater friction. You tremble against him, a summer storm whirling hot beneath your skin, your mouth gently biting at the column of his neck, whispering your pleas.  

“Fuck me, please. Please, please just fucking rail me into the bed.”  

If there was a man on earth strong enough not to lose control at hearing such, it wasn’t him. His hands slide to grip your waist, centring himself within you deep before caving to your demands, cock plunging into you with vigour, the bliss of it immense, making you feel boneless beneath him as he pounds you with force.

Your hips roll up against his, the head of his cock catching a spot inside you that has lightning forking through your walls, the pleasure of it glimmering over you as the coil winds tight. He has you sparking and wailing, lighting up as every delicious inch of him melds into the soaking velvet of your cunt, tipping you to teeter and then, away you fall into the white-hot of your release, his body dragged into it with each flutter around him, thick cock spilling into you with a deep groan.  

You lie gasping and clinging to one another until your muscles slacken, Adrien moving from you, and you feel empty for a moment until he pulls you into his arms, both entwining, little darts of pleasure ebbing slowly. He lifts your chin, kissing you softly, nuzzling you with a smile.  

“You look so pretty when you come,” he whispers, kissing the tip of your nose. “Might have to make you a few more times, so I get to watch it over and over.”  

After a while of dozing and restful cuddling, he does.  

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine getting your boyfriend, Adrien Brody, into board games.

Game Night had always been a thing with you and your friends, going back to the high school days. Friends came and went, but you, and two others, were always stable in it. You had two people who had joined over the last couple of years, and then your boyfriend, who originally didn’t want to take part. It wasn’t that he looked down upon board games before. He just didn’t understand the appeal … until you got him to play Monikers - and then he became like the Don, and the rest of you were his Games Mafia. He dressed the part. He brought out things from the wardrobes of his former characters, little keepsakes like hats and jackets, and would take over the leather armchair one leg crossed over the other, your pet in his lap, petting it softly, looking the part of some sort of Bond villain. It cracked you up each and every time. The board was ready by the time that our friends had come in and we had our usual small talk while pouring drinks and settling in for the game. Adrien was sitting with the fingertips of his hands pressed together, looking around at us intensely. “Ladies, and Gentlemen,” He said, his eyes stopping on each of us. “He’s been practicing this,” You whispered to your friends, one of them laughing, getting a playful glare from Adrien. “Monsters have become a scurge in our town! We’ve got three wandering around - the cunning Count Dracula, the creepy Creature from the Black Lagoon and the mortifying Mummy! Us six have to smash the coffins, find the hidden lairs, break the mummy’s curse in order to free our town from the villainy! Us heroes must take up our roles, must search the town and drive these monsters away!” He tapped on his phone beneath our pet, and the sound effect of thunder came over your livingroom, even making you jump. “The sound effect is new,” I commented, laughing as I calmed down. “What can I say, I have a flair for the dramatic,” Adrien grinned, dropping character for just a second.

Requested by: Anonymous

[zorkyyy]

" I'm jus' really starving .. "

warnings: smut , adrien brody x gn!reader (gender isn't specified) , pussy eating , dirty talk , jus' pure filth, it's short..

" you.. you taste so good.. " this guy was unrelentingly persistent. his tongue was licked at your cunt with ferocity as your hands mercilessly pulled at his hair. " fuck.. " with his nose against your swollen bud, you felt an extra surge of stimulation that made you scream with pleasure. " ad— adrien .. " you mumble with furrowed brows.

with your juices gleaming in his mouth, he draws away and mumbles wearily. " mm?.. wah— what's wrong? " he was completely infatuated with your cunt and couldn't help but feel his chest heave as his gaze dropped and he appeared almost bashful. " ease.. ease up— what's got you so bothered today.. " you mumble, a faint moan passing your mouth with ease.

when he don't respond, he keeps going and lets himself explore your pussy once again. extending his tongue and letting it poke through your entrance. he moans into your pussy, burrowing his face into it and appearing to feast there like a starving man while making almost repulsive slurping noises.

you tremble and wince under his tongue and mouth, your legs trembling as he performs his work, which he was incredibly skilled at. at that moment, he withdrew, grinning and heaving in his chest. he wanted to respond to your query at last.

eyeing you up, he smiles bashfully almost " well— i'm just .. i'm jus' really starving.. " he answers rather truthfully.

[adrienbrodyfics]

Bad Day

SFW

Adrien Brody x Reader

(That’s him right? What is this gif from? Please comment if you know)

“Baby! I’m home!” You heard Adrien shout from the door. You brought the blanket to cover your nose and buried half of your face into the pillow with your eyes shut. You didn’t want to make Adrien sad for seeing you like this. As you heard his footsteps come closer to the bedroom, you clung on to the pillow tighter.

You felt his hand pat your head as he kissed your forehead. He changed into a t-shirt and shorts and you heard him pick up the spoon and ice cream. You scolded yourself in your head. He was on to you.

You feel his weight sat on top of the bed next to you as his hand gently moved the blanket away from your face, revealing your red nose and tear-stained face.

“Awww baby.” He mumbled and leaned in to kiss your exposed cheeks. You knew the inevitable was coming so you blinked your eyes open.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” His fingers gently stroked your cheeks.

“Today wasn’t nice to me.” You mumbled, barely able to look at him. His face washed with a look of concern. He scooped you into his lap and cuddled you against his chest. You sniffled into his shoulder as he rubbed your back.

“It’s okay.” He said in a gentle tone.

“I am here. I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed you tighter and kissed your forehead.

You cuddled with him until you were able to relax a bit. He was so cozy, you didn’t want to leave the warm embrace. He reached for the ice cream and spoon and opened the pint.

“I’m not very hungry.” You mumbled.

“C’mon. It’s your favorite.” I holds a spoonful of ice cream up to your mouth. You reluctantly ate the spoonful and savored the sweetness.

“There ya go.” He patted your head.

“Can I interest you in some take out? I have a feeling you haven’t eaten much all day.” He rubbed your stomach.

“I can’t think of anything to eat.” You said with your head down.

“How about…ramen?” He offered.

“I think I can do that.” You lifted your head with a soft smile.

He kissed your forehead and lifted you up, bridal style.

“What are you doing?” You asked with confusion in your voice.

“I said I am not going anywhere. So, you’re coming with me.” He smiled at you.

You kissed his cheek and hung on to him tight as he carried you to the couch in the living room.

[red-riding-wood]

Hi)

Saw that you’d like to write something angsty or maybe dark on Peaky Blinders🙂

Maybe Luca Changretta x reader where they slowly fall out of love with each other but meanwhile realize that they still will never leave because they’re so used to the way things are

(Also looking forward to your fic with Dmitri from The Grand Budapest☺️) 😘

Absinthe

Luca Changretta x F!Reader

Peaky Blinders

Warnings: sexual references, mention of kidnapping/violence, mention of domestic abuse, language, very vague allusion to suicide, lots of angst (this is not a happy story lol)

A.N. Thank you for the request!! I hope this is what you had in mind. I sort of wrote this on a whim at 5 am when I couldn't sleep and I ended up projecting a lot of my own shit onto both characters so I don't know if it'll be to your tastes 'cause I'm a bit iffy on this one myself. And thank you; I really hope to start writing Dmitri x Alice soon and am so excited for it!

WC: 1504

“You will not survive on your own, amore mio.”

You hesitated, your heart sinking into your gut as you feared his words to be true. A shiver danced wickedly across the bare of your flesh.

And then, tugging the Italian silk of your dress over your body, you stood, his hand falling from where it had sat cradled in your lap. The empty in your chest split a little wider; those fingers used to squeeze your hip and pull you back to bed as he’d beg you not to leave. Now, they seemed to possess no love, perhaps not even want.

You cast a glance to where they lay limp against the mattress, and dared to observe his sullen look, his clenched jaw, the way that eyes that used to be so bright with adoration now wouldn’t even look at you.

When was the last time he’d really looked at you?

It was probably when you were kids, just barely out of school, and the gloating smirk of the boy had fallen around his cigarette, and his green eyes had glittered like peridot, as you told him yes.

Yes, to marrying him. Yes, to loving him in sickness and in health. Yes, ‘til death did you part.

And this, this sickness of the heart, it had not released you from your oath. Instead, it killed you, slowly, snapped the threads of your soul one by one, seized one shard of your heart each time you looked at him.

The times that hurt the most were always when you looked him in the eye, because you saw your own need reflected in their decaying depths. It might’ve been easier if they were vacant, if they were as cold as his loveless touch and his bitter disposition.

“I may not,” you said. Silences weren’t uncommon between the two of you anymore; you never had anything to say that was joyful like you had in your youth. Breaking it felt like the air had simultaneously returned to your lungs while also being held captive, for you always couldn’t help but hope that he’d say something kind, but also didn’t know how long the silence would stretch afterward.

“But I’m hurting, Luca,” you said, your voice breaking now as a tear threatened to bead on your eyelash, and your chest tightened. “And this is the only way I can think of to be free of my pain. Other than…”

You swallowed a cruel lump in your throat. You didn’t wish to think about the alternative you had once considered.

Animated suddenly by a burst of raw yet barely caged violence, Luca tugged his robe sharply around his shoulders and fumbled for the box of matchsticks on the desk. He wedged one between the teeth he used to knead at it, his inhale deep. Both efforts to soothe a soul darkened by rot.

“I have to leave,” you said, but you had hardly made it more than a few feet to the door before his fingers had wrapped themselves vice-like around your wrist, yanking you back so that you nearly tripped over your heels. His wedding ring bit into the delicate flesh, chilling as it was painful.

And you had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“You’re not leaving,” he growled, his tone almost predatory but that gaze, green like absinthe, entrapping you in a sea of emotions, pleading to you in morose glimmers that peeked past umber stripes of rage.

As you fought your tears, you conceded to his grasp, knowing he could easily overpower you if he wanted. And you shook your head, your lip curling bitterly upwards at what you had to utter,

“I’ve changed. I’m not your wife anymore.”

“The papers state otherwise.”

“Is this really what you want?” Your lip trembled with your own fury now – a fury that stemmed from your agony because you had nothing tangible to blame it on. And you struggled against his grasp feebly. “Do you really want a wife who’s unhappy? A wife who goes to bed every night with a hole in her chest?”

Luca’s grip softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw hurt flash across his irises. He turned his head away and brought his fingers up to brush across the faint stubble of his jaw.

And when his grip released, your wrist had never felt so wretchedly cold, and when he slammed the door behind him, your chest had never felt so achingly empty.

---

He had been so close to hurting you that time. Really hurting you, like he did the men who crossed his family or offended his honour.

But he could never hurt you. At least, he told himself such things, because in some ways, when he looked at you – still a stranger to the scars of violence that riddled his own flesh – he could sometimes see a ghost of the girl who used to be his lover, who used to be the girl with the shy smile and the beguiled gaze.

His fingers travelled across his chest to his lips, as he uttered his final prayer. The incense of the chapel burned nearly as thick as the smoke of the cigarettes he used to worship. Before you had made him quit.

And what had he done for you? He had done everything. He had given you a marriage, when you had nothing to your name, had given you the finest silks and jewelry and had taken you on a perfect honeymoon to Italy where you had made love with his name chanting from your lips like a prayer. 

Luca twirled the toothpick in his teeth bitterly.

But in saving you, he had condemned himself. Even in the solace of this moment, he found himself craving your touch, however frigid it had grown. Found himself incomplete, numb.

He’d taken an interest in another broad recently – a maid, but beautiful, with a soft, heart-shaped face and gently curved hips that begged to be ruined.

But it sickened him to touch her.

Because she wasn’t you.

---

With Luca away, you had had time to pack your belongings – just the ones that you needed. All purely practical, except for a letter, its ink bleeding at the edges of its handwriting, the love draining from the words he’d once written you when away on business.

Though you knew you’d regret taking it, it had felt wrong to leave something that used to make you smile with so much joy.

You waited for the train in the dead of night, the wind your only companion as it howled through the archways of the station. But it was not enough to quell the fear in your gut or ease the weight that pressed harder against your suffocated chest with each passing second.

You stifled a sigh as a sharp whistle split the distant, foggy air. And you once again fought back tears that welled in your eyes.

And then the winds shifted, and the cedar and ambrette notes of his cologne stirred something in your chest. You shivered as the warmth of his body settled behind you, long fingers running down the sleeves of your arms. The weight lifted only slightly on your chest, and oxygen returned to starved lungs.

“I told you you weren’t leaving, amore mio.”

You shut your eyes, swallowing against the knot in your throat.

And you thought, with this weight no longer sinking into aching ribs,

I’m not gonna make it on my own.

Your luggage was dropped to the concrete as the train came chugging along, rearing its head of iron and steel from the mists.

His fingers laced through your own, squeezing gently at them, tugging wickedly at a frayed thread of your soul, and you reciprocated, remembering a time when you had worshipped this very hand.

When you turned, his hot breath was exchanged with yours, and the full scent of him washed over your tired bones in a bittersweet familiarity.

And when he kissed you, an ember sparked in your gut that only he had ever been able to ignite, and the heat that pooled in your core was not a desire but a need.

Iron spiked your tongue as you pulled apart, some wrath that still brewed inside you having drawn blood from his lip while your hand cupped his cheek in an almost reverence.

Absinthe eyes sank intensely into yours, and though you knew from that gaze that he wanted you dead, he also needed you just as much as you needed him.

“You were right,” you breathed, your voice a mere whimper against the noise of the train. “I can’t survive on my own.”

Locks of his dusky hair teased your scalp, and his thumb traced the flesh behind your ear soothingly. And you had no idea that, had you boarded that train, his men would’ve been ordered to gag you and deliver you screaming back to him. And though as your foreheads pressed together and your tears spilled from shuttered eyes, it did not banish the pain from the hole that split wider in a chest that bled as slowly as the ink of the letter.

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed to any of my taglists and notified of new works!

TAGLIST: @eclecticwildflowers @emotionalcadaver @evita-shelby @minaethrym @shelbydelrey

[reiwanwan]

Whispers of the Tide

On a peaceful shoreline, Y/n Shelby awaits her executioner, Luca Changretta.

This is part 2 of Beneath the Streetlamp

content includes: Mentions of guns, blood, mentions of killing

The sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow over the water as the waves lapped gently against the shore. Y/N stood at the water's edge, her feet bare, toes sinking into the wet sand. The sea had always been a place of peace for her, a place where she could let her mind drift away from the chaos of life. It reminded her of simpler times—playing with her siblings along the shoreline, laughing, running, and forgetting, if only for a moment, the troubles that always seemed to chase them.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely noticed the footsteps approaching from behind. But she wasn’t surprised either. Luca Changretta was the type of man who always found his way to her. It had become almost routine, this quiet dance they shared, knowing what was coming but never acknowledging it outright.

"Always finding me, aren’t you?" she said, her voice calm, as if greeting an old friend rather than a deadly enemy.

Luca smirked as he stepped closer, his hands in his pockets. "I’ve got a knack for it," he replied smoothly, his eyes studying her. There was something about her calmness that always unnerved him.

"How’d you find me this time?" she asked, a faint smile playing on her lips as she turned slightly to face him.

He shrugged, glancing out at the sea. "I’m always finding you, Y/N," he said softly, a strange note of affection in his tone. They stood there in silence for a moment, watching the waves, two people who should have been enemies but seemed more like two weary souls sharing a quiet moment of understanding.

"Do you like the sea?" he asked after a while, breaking the silence.

Y/N nodded, her eyes never leaving the horizon. "I do," she replied. "It makes me forget about everything. Just for a little while, it’s like none of it matters."

Luca stared at her, and for a brief moment, he saw a glimpse of something—something he wasn’t sure he had ever seen in her before. Peace, maybe. Or acceptance. He wasn’t sure.

Y/N’s next words cut through the air like a knife, casual but heavy with meaning. "So," she said softly, "is today the day?"

Luca’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at her, the faintest hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "Today’s the day."

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t try to run or fight. She just nodded, as if she had been expecting it all along. "I didn’t bring anything to protect myself," she said lightly, almost like it was a joke, but there was no humor in her voice. "Maybe it’s just my time."

Luca’s grip on the gun tightened, though it remained at his side for now. "I prayed for you once, you know," he said, his voice low.

Y/N’s lips curled into a faint smile. "I remember. I told you to pray." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Thank you for that."

He let out a short laugh, though it held no real amusement. "What are you going to do? Will you tell my father I’m a good boy?" He tried making one last attempt at a joke.

Y/N turned to him fully, her expression soft. "Maybe I will."

"Don’t," Luca said quickly, shaking his head. "That’d be lying. And anyway, he’s probably watching over me right now, seeing everything I’m about to do" He said pointing to the sky.

Silence hung between them again, heavy and suffocating. Luca knew what he had to do, and Y/N…well, she was ready. Or at least she acted like she was. He didn’t know why she wasn’t fighting back, why she wasn’t begging for her life like everyone else had. Maybe she was just as tired of all this bullshit as he was.

The time had come. Luca raised the gun, pointing it at her head. Y/N met his gaze, her eyes unblinking, calm, and full of acceptance. She didn’t say a word, didn’t move a muscle. And in that moment, Luca realized she wasn’t afraid. She had resigned herself to this fate long ago.

He pulled the trigger.

The sound echoed along the shoreline, the seagulls flying off in startled flocks. Y/N fell, her body crumpling to the ground like a rag doll. Luca stood there for a moment, staring down at her. He felt something, but he wasn’t sure if it was regret or relieved. Maybe a bit of both.

After a moment, he knelt down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. She was gone, her eyes closed peacefully, as if she had simply fallen asleep. He carried her to the nearby hospital, placing her gently on the steps, making sure her body was arranged in a way that looked respectful. Then, without a word, he took off his coat and draped it over her, covering her completely.

It was only when he walked away that he allowed himself to feel anything. He lit a cigarette, his hands shaking slightly as he smoked. He didn’t feel bad exactly. He had to do it. He wanted to do it. It was part of the plan, part of the life they both lived. But there was something about her—about Y/N—that made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, she had been as lost as he was.

He stared at the sea for a long time, thinking of her, of the calmness in her eyes, the acceptance in her voice. He exhaled a long breath, letting the smoke drift away with the wind.

"Maybe she was just as broken as me," he muttered to himself, flicking the cigarette into the sand before turning and walking away from the sea, leaving behind the only person who had ever truly understood him.