#but he's evolved a bit in his roles since then

[thankskenpenders]

IDW's Knuckles 30th Anniversary special

I'm still working on finishing Shadow Generations and writing up a big thing about it (yes, yes, it's taken me a month to finish a four hour game, I know), but in the meantime we've got another new Classic era comic out from IDW! Let's talk about that.

The last Classic era release we got was the Fang miniseries earlier this year, which I mostly enjoyed but also found a bit underwhelming. It felt like we were getting diminishing returns with the Classic comics. Ian seemed to be struggling to make the Classic era feel fresh within Sega's current restrictions for that branch of the brand, a branch that by its very nature discourages experimentation and new ideas in a way that the ever-evolving Modern era doesn't. He was mostly just playing the hits, sticking the currently permitted Classic era characters next to each other in straightforward one-off adventures and letting the art team do their thing. We were getting the Ian who was happy to simply be able to take these toys out of the toy box. Again, these comics have been fine, and the art's always a treat, but the novelty of simply seeing a comic with the old character designs was wearing off for me when the stories didn't have as much meat as Ian's (or Evan's) excellent Modern era work.

And then along comes this Knuckles 30th Anniversary special, which is by far my favorite Classic Sonic comic Ian's written for IDW.

...I can't really talk about why it's so good without getting into spoilers, though. The short version is that it's a really nice little story about Knuckles and another character from the games, who's used as a great foil for him... except the solicit didn't even say which character it is, so I'm hesitant to say here. But if you're a fan of Knuckles, you should definitely just go read this. It's great. This one's mandatory reading to me.

And with that out of the way, let's dig deeper and get into the spoilers.

The spoiler zone

After an opening that very blatantly homages Tyson Hesse's old Knuckles comic (yes, the very same one that helped inspire the name of this blog), Knuckles realizes that Angel Island has drifted near the Northstar Islands from Sonic Superstars, and decides that the Master Emerald must be giving him a mission to train the archipelago's own resident guardian.

Yes, this isn't just a Knuckles comic. It's a Knuckles and Trip comic!

I was really delighted by this. I like Trip a lot, and it's nice to get this chance to expand upon her as a character. I think this is her first speaking role, even? I'm glad to see her stick around, and I'm glad to see her appear in the comics so soon, especially since we're still waiting for the mainline comics to incorporate Sage. She's still clumsy and fairly timid, like in the game, but without the looming thread of Eggman she gets to let loose a little. She's very exuberant and expressive and playful, especially thanks to Aaron Hammerstrom's fantastic art throughout the issue (complemented with inks by Rik Mack and colors by Valentina Pinto). It makes sense why she gets along so well with Amy. I hope we get to see those two interact more in the future!

Anyway, so Knuckles shows up on the Northstar Islands after contemplating his lot in life, and realizes that he and Trip have a lot in common. She's not as strong or confident as him, but they're both the last of their kind, these lone guardians of these ancient magical gemstones. He's showing up under the pretense of training her, but you can tell it's nice for him to have a kindred spirit, someone who might be able to really get him.

And then Trip's like... wait, you think I'm the last of my kind?

Yes, the Northstar Islands have actually been inhabited by a whole civilization of sungazers like Trip the whole time! We just didn't see them in the game because, y'know. Eggman was attacking. So Trip told everyone to find shelter and hide from the Badniks. (This actually makes a lot of sense, since you pass by this very village in Speed Jungle Zone. Somebody's gotta maintain those straw roofs and light those torches, and I can't imagine Trip managing all that upkeep herself.)

This also includes a grandfather for Trip, who's been training her as the archipelago's new guardian. Naturally, this has led to some speculation from fans about the old "mandates." In the wake of the Penders lawsuits and Archie's reboot, Sega declared that the comics could no longer create comic-original relatives for the game characters. Has that changed now?

Well, I'm hesitant to read too much into this. For one, as Ian has tried to drill into peoples' heads for years now, the so-called "mandates" aren't a set of concrete commandments from Sega, they just have some general guidelines for the brand, some of which have more wiggle room than others and some of which have changed over time. There's also the simple fact that Sega is working way more closely with the team at IDW, and that people like Ian and Evan are literally on the official Sonic lore team now. Ian can presumably work with the lore team and Sega to figure out Trip's family, and then go and work what they've decided on into a comic, so it's entirely possible Trip's grandpa isn't considered a comic-original character so much as he's a character conceptualized at Sega who just happens to have appeared in an IDW comic before anything else. The lines are a lot blurrier now with all this cross-pollination, compared to the Archie days when it was a separate creative team and a separate canon.

But, again, I don't want to speculate too heavily about what goes on behind the scenes. Regardless, Ian was able to use this comic to expand upon the world of the games and the characters that inhabit it, and I love it for that. It's the first of these Classic comics that feels like truly mandatory reading for the way it builds upon the games. These days we so rarely get to see communities like this in the Sonic world with their own cultures. It's not like we know anything about "hedgehog culture" or whatever. So this is a nice change of pace. The Northstar Islands feel totally different now that I know they've actually been inhabited the whole time, and knowing that Trip is part of an active community with their own history and customs puts a whole new spin on her as a character.

It also makes her a great foil for Knuckles here. He showed up on the island thinking he'd have a lot to teach Trip as someone who's got more life experience as a lone guardian, only to realize his assumptions about her life were completely wrong. Trip brags to her grandpa that Knuckles is gonna train her, but he quickly realizes he doesn't have much to teach her. She may be kind of cowardly, but she knows her way around the island, she can think on her feet, and she can handle herself well enough in a fight, in her own slapstick way.

He doesn't say as much, but you can tell Knuckles is embarrassed about all this. This clumsy kid is showing him up, even though she won't even really listen to his advice! He's also, perhaps, a bit jealous. It's not like he had a grandfather to train him in the ways of being a guardian. (Not in this continuity, anyway.) He doesn't get a whole village of echidnas to teach him about his heritage. He doesn't get fancy ceremonial armor. It's just him, a big green rock, and his two fists. He thought he had this whole guardian thing figured out, and he'd be able to give a kindred spirit like Trip some advice, but it turns out she's lived a whole different life, making him question if he even knows what he's doing. He quickly gets fed up with both Trip and himself, blowing up at her a little.

After reflecting a bit, Knuckles goes back to Trip and comes clean. He doesn't really know how to train her, because no one ever trained him. He figured things out on his own. If he had anyone there to raise him, they've been gone since he was too young to remember. He just knows he has to protect the Master Emerald. That's it. It's a pretty vulnerable moment for Knuckles, one where his dissatisfaction with his life comes to the surface.

Still, Trip sees things differently. He may be used to the fact that he lives on a giant floating island powered by a giant magic emerald, but she thinks that's, like, the coolest thing in the world. HER islands don't fly! And while Knuckles might wish he had someone to train him, Trip thinks that Knuckles becoming such a fearsome fighter all on his own, without even armor to protect him, makes him super awesome and admirable. With both of them feeling better, Trip takes Knuckles to Golden Capital to talk about her heritage as a guardian of the Northstar Islands a bit more, and Knuckles tells her that he thinks she'll be a great guardian before he heads home, once again feeling pretty good about himself.

While this is a pretty straightforward little story about how the grass is always greener on the other side, it's a very effective and sweet one that I enjoyed reading a ton. Aside from the fun of learning more about Trip and the Northstar Islands, it's just a great showcase for Knuckles. (It's definitely a way better showcase for him than his Paramount+ show, as much as I took sick pleasure in that show's baffling creative decisions.) There are also some fun details about his life in here, such as the fact that Sonic, Tails, and Amy have taken camping trips to hang out with him on Angel Island, and the fact that he trained Amy in using her hammer better.

It's just real good, and it feels like the most meaningful addition to The Canon out of any of these Classic era comics Ian's written. We're still gonna be getting more in the future, so hopefully this is a sign that Ian and the lore team have found that happy middle ground where they can keep the Classic comics familiar and nostalgic while also being able to branch out and expand upon things.

Speaking of future comics!

Coming attractions

The end of this issue confirms some things that are in the works for IDW Sonic. For one, we're getting a Chaotix 30th Anniversary special next year. Neat! They also mention some kind of Shadow one-shot dropping following the movie, however fans seem split on whether this is referring to a new story or just the "Best of Shadow" compilation one-shot that's coming out next month. So don't get your hopes up about that in case it's the latter, I guess.

And while we're still waiting for issue #75 of the main series, the IDW team is already thinking all the way ahead to #100, which should drop sometime during the 35th anniversary of the franchise in 2026. Clearly the team's still confident about the longevity of IDW Sonic and excited for the future. And I am, too! Bring on #75!

[salstray]

I am asking for any Ronin info you may have🤠 (also hope you’re having a good day!!) ✨

okay, okay, listen to me. listen.

So- Ronin?

He exists.

Thats kinda all I got. I know how he looks and how he acts and that he would be VERY easy to use as a werewolf and thats IT bestie.

He's an older man, somewhere in his 40s, with totally white hair (poor man went gray real early, but to be fair, one of his staples is that his life has Sucked and he's Very Stressed), dark eyes, and a handful of facial scars.

Since I said in the tags he's my OC answer to Ghost, he is built the way i figure Ghost would be built. Tall, beefy, big. Can and will snap you in half.

I also hope YOU are having a good day!! <3

[tenitchyfingers]

I mean, people who watched Good Girls and don't see what a great fucking job Matthew Lillard did on Dean are just pitiful. Like this character could've been the blandest, most boring and meaningless one on tv ever, and I've seen similar ones too being played, you know, that way, with no pussy put in them. And I would've hated THIS character so much had he been played by literally anyone else. But there's a humanity and a frailty coming through with this performance that just steals my heart. Yes the character is not a goddamn saint, yes he fucked up, yes he did shit that gets you angry because of how dumb he was in s1-2. But throughout it all you see so well how Dean is just a person (in fiction anyway) and how he feels the way a person would. He's not a stereotypical man, he's not a performance, he's a guy who's pretty normal and feels like just a guy, with human complexities. Stan feels the same. And I really do believe it takes breaking a character into pieces to see who they are and how they work, and I love how Dean is fundamentally a flawed person who's grown SO much since season 1, probably more than anyone else, and you see that growth through this performance. He just feels authentic. Rio, though? That guy's just such a one-dimensional Bond villain. Seriously, no depth is put in that performance, there is nothing real in it and honestly? That's why I want him dead. He's a flat character played by an actor who gave a flat performance. and hey, I'm not saying Manny is not a good actor, he just probably could not get into the mind of someone doing what he does. He's too surface-level for it, which is counter-intuitive because playing evil villains should be fun and should get you to dig deep within a character and find ways to connect to them. But Rio just feels like a pretty shell and the hotness factor wore way off back in the beginning of season 1. And I mean, I absolutely LOVE bad guys, shit most of my favorite characters ARE bad guys. My favorite performances by Lillard are the bad guys. But honestly, he's the best performer in this show along with Reno Wilson and Christina Hendricks. It's not just because I'm currently hyper-fixating on Lillard, it's because he's objectively a scene stealer even as, if not even more as, a supporting character. And that's his thing, he gets cast as a secondary character and delivers the best performances in anything he's in. I'm not going back on this.

[thankchaosforspellcheck]

#SEE NO BECAUSE#HE IS JUST LIKE 87 RAPH#GRABS YOU BY THE SHOULDERS. HE'S SNARKY#HE'S SURPRISINGLY OBSERVANT#AND! AND! HE HELPS WITH RESPONSIBILITY FROM THE BACK END (BEFORE HE'S APPOINTED LEADER)#87 RAPH IS ALL OF THOSE THINGS. THEY'RE BOTH SMART. THEY'RE SO SIMILAR.

GRABS YOU BY THE SHOULDERS BACK

that is the exact point I'm trying to make here thank u so much for seeing my vision

Rise!Leo: *Makes a dumb pun in the middle of a tense situation*

2012!Mikey: He's just like me fr.

2007!Mikey: He's just like me fr.

2003!Mikey: He's just like me fr.

1987!Mikey: Wow, he's just like Raph!

All Other Mikeys: *Turns to 87 & just stares*

[yamujiburo]

Got a few asks about what Pokemon I think Jessie and James would have if 1. they didn't just have the gacha machine and only caught Galarian Pokemon and 2. if they had the chance to go to Paldea

GALAR

Jessie: Sandaconda, Snom➡️Frosmoth, Impidimp➡️Morgrem

Sandaconda is a snake Pokemon. Jessie should be allowed to have all snake Pokemon. Period. Love the idea of her finding it and being unsure of what the hell she's looking at because it's all coiled up but upon it briefly uncoiling she falls in love.

Jessie should have had an Ice Type Pokemon at some point for real. Snow and ice play two big roles in her backstory (eating snow/growing up in a snowy location and her mother disappearing in an avalanche). Her having a lil Snom that's not particularly useful but that she grows to love would be so CUTE. They eat snow together!! Then I love the idea of her going from not thinking much of it to getting more and more attached to it over the series and then having it evolve to Frosmoth after some time (it'd remind her of her old friend Dustox)

Okay this one's gonna take a little explaining but I think it'd be so funny if at the same time, Jessie catches a Hatenna and James catches an Impidimp (mostly because Jessie wants the cute one). BUT Impidimp starts gravitating to Jessie because of her negative energy, which it feeds off of. She's much easier to prank and irritate than James, who's too much of a sweetheart and a little less susceptible to pranks. Jessie never finds out that Impidimp is the one pranking her but notices that it's taken a liking to her for some reason so she and James end up trading their Hattena and Impidimp with each other. It later evolves into Moregrem

James: Polteageist, Toxel, Hatenna➡️Hattrem

I think James is a tea lover, and enjoyed fancy teas when he was a child. Since he's a collector of bottlecaps and Pokeballs, I could see him also collecting teapots/teacups. Maybe they're in a haunted mansion one day and he grabs a teapot thinking it's a rare find but it's actually a Pokemon to his surprise. Also I think he deserves to have an Antique form, so it IS a rare find.

James having another baby Pokemon to fawn over like Mime Jr. would be so cute. It's an egg that the trio find but Jessie's too lazy to take care of it and Meowth's traumatized after the Togepi situation, not wanting to go through all that again. Toxel is born and it's James' everything. It's a bit bratty and constantly vying for his attention, usually by shocking and poisoning him but luckily James has built up an immunity to both those things thanks to Pikachu and Mareanie.

As stated before, James catches Impidimp initially but trades it for Jessie's Hatenna. Hatenna was NOT okay with the amount of emotions Jessie brought to the table and couldn't stand to be around her, often going to James who's much calmer between the two of them. Annoyed by it not liking her and finding that Impidimp DID like her, Jessie demands suggests a trade, which James is okay with as he's been growing attached to Hatenna. After it evolves into Hattrem, it starts (affectionately) smacking him whenever he shows too much emotion, carrying on the "James' Pokemon beat the shit out of him" legacy.

PALDEA

Jessie: Flittle➡️Espathra

Flittle just seems fitting for Jessie. She's always wanting a cute little baby Pokemon but funnily enough, never really gets one in the show. She absolutely pampers it and dresses it up. It eventually evolves into Espathra. Still being Jessie's mini-me, it often mimics her, particularly when Jessie's angry

James: Arboliva

Arboliva just feels like a Pokemon James would have LMAO. I think it'd be really sweet if after a particularly bad blast off, Arboliva finds Team Rocket and helps nurse them back to health even though they're mostly okay. They're grateful to it, James captures it and it continues to try mother all of them (in a less aggressive way than Bewear).

Shared: Scovillain

Listen. It'd be SO funny if Jessie and James shared a Pokemon. They see two Pokemon in the tall grass one day. A Pokemon with a red head and a Pokemon with a green head. Only having one Pokemon each at this time, they decide it's a good idea to catch another each. They throw their Pokeballs at the same time and the catch is successful! Just one problem. They find out the two Pokemon they tried to catch was actually just one Pokemon and they don't know which of the Pokeballs they threw was the one that actually caught it. They argue about it for quite a while but then agree to share custody. Leads to some funny scenarios where they're both trying to direct it in a battle. The red head prefers Jessie and the green head prefers James.

[mrsfancyferrari]

Real Love

Summary: You and Carlos were just supposed to be a PR couple for less than a year but someone decided to catch feelings.

Song: Love Story - Indila

Part 2

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 8.6k

It all started as a simple PR arrangement between you, a well-known influencer, and Carlos Sainz, the Formula 1 driver. We were both told it would only last less than a year - just long enough to boost our public profiles and create some buzz. Little did we know, someone had other plans.

At first, it was easy enough. We attended events together, posted cute couple photos on social media, and played the part of the perfect pair. The chemistry between us felt natural, which made the whole charade convincing.

Your routine was simple enough.

You and Carlos would meet up at his house and he would drive you both to the paddock while sharing a small conversation about what happened in your jobs in the last weeks.

The roar of the engines and the excited chatter of the fans would fill the air around you.

As you reach the Ferrari garage, Carlos turns to you. "I've got some meetings with Charles to attend to, but you're free to explore or chat with the other drivers' partners if you'd like. I'll catch up with you in a bit, okay?"

You nod, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Sounds good. I'll be around if you need me." With a smile, you part ways, ready to take in the bustling atmosphere of the Ferrari garage.

Because of your ‘relationship’, you were able to make friends with your current bestie, Lily Muni.

You and your close friend Lily would often engage in candid discussions about your romantic entanglements, particularly your faux relationship with Carlos. Despite being the sole confidante privy to the fact that your connection with Carlos was entirely fabricated, Lily wholeheartedly embraced the role of your number one supporter and "shipper."

She would enthusiastically encourage you, even though she was fully aware that your purported love affair was merely a façade maintained for the benefit of others.

"So what's going on with you these days?" Lily asked curiously since you hadn't seen her in a few weeks. You knew that she wanted to know more about your relationship but it was still the same.

"Lily, I don't know what you're waiting for," You replied, taking a sip of your coffee. "We're going to be like this until the contract ends."

Lily looked at you with a knowing look, smiling at your denial, "Not until one of you decides to confess, I bet it's gonna be Carlos. I see where his eyes go when you're not looking."

You can feel your cheeks heat up at Lily's teasing words, and you quickly avert your gaze, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Blushing, you try to hide your embarrassment by taking another sip of your coffee, hoping to distract yourself.

Deep down, you couldn't deny the flutter of hope that Lily's words sparked within you, secretly wishing that her prediction would come true and Carlos would finally reveal his true feelings.

"Come on, Lily, you know it's all just for show," you say with a nervous laugh, hoping to dismiss any romantic notions. Deep down, however, you can't help but wonder if there might be some truth to her playful observations.

Lily chuckles mischievously, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I know, I know. But you can't blame me for hoping, can you? Sometimes, even the most make-believe romances have a way of turning real."

You nodded before thinking of her words, realizing that there were indeed moments when Carlos's gaze lingered a little longer, or when his touches felt a little more intentional. Maybe, just maybe, Lily's playful observations held more truth than you were willing to admit.

As you sat there with your coffee, a newfound sense of curiosity and anticipation began to take root within you, wondering if this faux relationship could possibly evolve into something genuine and heartfelt.

You would be lying if you said that you didn't have a crush on Carlos. His charm and the way he made you feel special were undeniable. It wasn't just the little moments or his playful gestures, it was the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he was near.

Every time he looked into your eyes, it felt like there was something more behind his gaze. And now, with Lily's playful observations, the possibility of those feelings being reciprocated started to flicker in your mind, making your heart race with anticipation.

But you knew that breaking the rules of the PR contract because of your feelings was not an option. You couldn't risk jeopardizing the professional relationship and the project you had been working on together.

Besides, you reminded yourself, sometimes it's better to keep a crush as a secret, unrequited admiration rather than risking the potential fallout that could come from crossing that line.

So, you decided to bury those feelings deep down, focusing on the task at hand and maintaining a professional demeanor, even if your heart still fluttered every time Carlos entered the room.

It was a bittersweet realization, but one that you knew was necessary for the sake of your career and the project's success.

After catching up with Lily, you had to head back to the Ferrari garage to see Carlos one more time before he goes to the first sprint of the race, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to put on your best poker face, to hide the feelings that threatened to spill over.

This would be the last time you allowed yourself to indulge in this fantasy, the last time you let your heart flutter at the sight of him. From now on, it would be all business, all focus, and no room for what-ifs and maybes.

As you entered, you found Carlos focused on preparing for the race, his eyes fixed on the car before him. You couldn't help but admire his dedication and skill, a reminder of why you were drawn to him in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, you approached him, ready to wish him luck and carry on with your professional duties.

But as you stood there, your eyes locked with his, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more beneath the surface, something that Lily's playful observations had hinted at.

As he smiled at you and gestured for you to come over, a glimmer of hope ignited within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something more between you two, despite the professional boundaries. But you quickly pushed those thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the risks involved and the importance of staying focused on the task at hand.

With a smile, you returned his gesture and walked over, ready to offer your well wishes for the race.

As soon as you got close enough, his hand sneaked across your waist, sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart raced as he pulled you closer, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

The world seemed to stand still for a moment as the warmth of his touch and the sweetness of his kiss enveloped you. It was a moment of pure bliss, a confirmation that there was indeed something more between you two.

But as quickly as it happened, reality came crashing back.

You pulled away, your heart pounding with a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

That was normal for you two. It doesn't mean anything.

"Good luck with your race," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you glanced from his lips to his eyes and saw that he did the same thing, a spark of connection flickered between you, leaving you wondering if there was more to this moment than either of you were willing to admit.

“Mi amor, I will definitely win with you being my good luck charm,” He said, smirking at the affect his words still had on you.

Reluctantly, you watched as Carlos tore his gaze away from you and focused on the final preparations of his car. With a heavy heart, you knew that this fleeting moment of connection would have to be set aside for now.

He had a race to win, and you had your own professional duties to attend to. As he climbed into the driver's seat and drove off to the starting line, you could only hope that the universe would bring you together again, when the time was right. . . .

Carlos ended up being first in practice 1, which was very surprising for everyone. His skill and determination were evident as he flawlessly maneuvered the twists and turns of the track, leaving his competitors in the dust.

The cheers and applause from the crowd filled the air, but amidst the excitement, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for Carlos. . . .

╔═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╗

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

As you sat on Carlos's bed, waiting for him to finish dressing up. You couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Carlos and you had to go to an event together so you were now sitting on his bed, all dolled up.

The dress you were given to wear to the event was a stunning crimson masterpiece. Its vibrant hue perfectly represented the fiery spirit of Ferrari, mirroring Carlos's passion and determination on the racetrack.

The fabric gracefully hugged your curves, accentuating your figure in all the right places. The bodice was beautifully adorned with intricate lace detailing, adding a touch of elegance to the ensemble. The dress flowed effortlessly down to the floor, creating a mesmerizing silhouette as you walked.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel a sense of empowerment and confidence.

You glanced at the clock, realizing that time was running out. You hoped that Carlos would hurry and join you soon.

As you read the Twitter comments questioning the authenticity of your relationship with Carlos, a wave of insecurity washed over you.

Despite knowing the truth of your connection, the doubts planted by strangers made you question your ability to convince fans of your 'love' for each other.

It was disheartening to realize that no matter how real your feelings were, they could still be perceived as fake by those who only saw glimpses of your lives through social media.

"Carlos?" you knocked on the bathroom door, wanting to know what he was still doing as they needed to go.

As you waited for a response, you couldn't help but wonder if he was feeling the same pressure and scrutiny from fans as you were, and if it was affecting his confidence as well.

"Yes cariño, you can come in," you heard his voice and you decided to open the door.

As you entered the bathroom, the sight of Carlos's bare back took your breath away. His muscles rippled under his smooth skin, and the towel that hung loosely around his waist only added to the allure.

His toned muscles glistened with droplets of water, and you couldn't help but appreciate the physical strength and athleticism that made him a champion on the racetrack.

You tried to maintain composure, but it was impossible to tear your eyes away from him. You were suddenly aware of the growing heat in the room, a reflection of the intense chemistry that existed between the two of you.

He turned to face you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Like what you see?" he teased, causing your heart to race even faster.

You quickly averted your gaze, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Sorry," you stammered, turning around to give him privacy. "I didn't realize you weren't dressed yet."

"It's okay cariño, since you're here, do you mind rubbing my back? It's hard to reach sometimes," He asked, gesturing to the bottle close to you on the shelf but still not turning around and applying some lotion onto his face.

"Sure Carlos," you replied.

You took a small amount of lotion in your hands and began to gently rub it onto Carlos's bare back, your fingers gliding smoothly over his muscles.

As you worked your way from his shoulders down to his lower back, you couldn't help but admire the strength and resilience they represented.

The physical contact eased the tension that had been building up in his back, making him stop what he was doing and sigh in relief.

"Am I that good?" you teased.

Chuckling, Carlos' eyes were still closed in bliss. "Well, cariño, you have magic hands. I've never felt so relaxed. Maybe I should consider hiring you as my personal masseur," he muttered.

Giggling softly, you replied, "Well, it seems like I have a hidden talent then. I can give you a massage after your races if you'd like."

"Yes please cariño," He pleaded.

You were taken aback by the intensity of his plea, and the way his voice resonated in your ears sent a shiver down your spine. Your cheeks flushed even deeper as you realized the effect you had on him, and a mix of excitement and nervousness washed over you.

"Y/N? Why did you stop?" Carlos asked, finally turning around to face you, his eyes locked with yours.

The electricity in the room seemed to intensify as you found yourself lost in his gaze, unable to find the words to explain the sudden halt in your actions.

"Carlos, we have an important event to go to. We can't waste time here," you reminded him and yourself. You just remembered the event that left your mind as soon as you stepped inside the bathroom.

Carlos pouted at your words, his disappointment evident. He knew that the event was important, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret at leaving behind the intimate moment the two of you were sharing.

"We can't just spend a few minutes?" Carlos asked, trying his luck.

"Carlos, this event is about Ferrari," You started, going over to wash your hands. "You have to be there and be there early."

Carlos pouted at your words, remembering the event too. "I guess you're right," he said with a hint of disappointment. "But don't worry, I'll hold you to that promise of a massage later."

"You'll get them soon enough," You replied smiling, walking out of the bathroom, leaving Carlos to change into his suit. . . .

You two had made it to the event half an hour before it was going to start, and as you got out of Carlos' car, you were bombarded with the paparazzi.

Flashbulbs went off incessantly as reporters shouted questions and cameramen jostled for the best angle.

Carlos, being used to this, instinctively shielded you from the chaos, wrapping his arm around your waist and guiding you towards the entrance, where security personnel were waiting to escort you inside.

As soon as you two had gotten into the building, you were able to breathe, soaking in the momentary calmness before the storm of socializing began.

You glanced at Carlos, his hand still lingering on your waist, and you exchanged a knowing smile, silently reassuring each other that you were in this together.

Taking a deep breath, you prepared to gracefully navigate the room, greeting and mingling with the various groups of people in attendance.

Taking a moment to compose yourselves, you scanned the room and spotted familiar faces from various racing teams and sponsors.

Making your way over to each group, you exchanged warm greetings and engaged in small talk, ensuring that you maintained the necessary professional connections in the racing world for Carlos.

"Carlos! Y/N!" a voice called you from in the crowd, and you both turned around to see Benedetto Vigna, the CEO of Ferrari, making his way towards you with a warm smile.

It was a relief to see a familiar face amidst the sea of strangers, and you greeted him with enthusiasm, ready to discuss the future of the partnership between Carlos and Ferrari.

"It's so wonderful to see you both here tonight," he exclaimed, extending his hand in greeting.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Carlos replied, giving him a quick hug with a smile.

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Wasn't he the one who wanted to stay at home longer for a massage?

As you and Carlos were about to join Benedetto Vigna for a group picture with Charles and his girlfriend Alexandra, you couldn't help but notice Carlos shooting you a mischievous grin.

"Looks like someone changed their mind about staying at home for massages," you whispered playfully, causing Carlos to chuckle as the camera flashed, capturing the moment of camaraderie between the four of you.

You couldn't help but blush as Carlos leaned in closer, his grip on your waist tightening. "I'm still getting that massage, aren't I?" he whispered playfully into your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You chuckled softly at Carlos's words, feeling a surge of warmth as his grip tightened around your waist. "Of course," you whispered back, leaning into his embrace.

After the group photo, the two of you were approached by the paparazzi, who insisted on taking pictures of just the two of you.

You obliged, striking a pose with Carlos, your smiles radiating with genuine joy and affection. As the camera clicked, freezing the moment in time, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the incredible journey you and Carlos had embarked on together.

Suddenly, you remembered the comments on your relationship being fake crossed your mind. In an impulsive move, you turned to Carlos and whispered, "KIss me."

With that, you leaned in and planted a passionate kiss on his lips, not caring about the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

Carlos, caught off guard by your sudden boldness, responded by deepening the kiss, his lips pressing fervently against yours.

The paparazzi went wild, capturing the genuine love and connection between the two of you, proving once and for all that your relationship was far from fake.

When you were able to separate from each other, you grinned at the paparazzi, reveling in the moment of rebellion and spontaneity. Ignoring the bewildered looks from the crowd, you confidently took Carlos's hand and led him off the stage, eager to escape the prying eyes and enjoy the rest of the night in each other's company.

The paparazzi's cameras continued to flash behind you, capturing the image of two people deeply in love, unafraid to defy expectations and embrace their own happiness.

And that's what you were hoping for.

You two spent the rest of the event, stuck to each other like glue, while effortlessly navigating conversations with important people.

As you mingled and exchanged pleasantries, it became evident to everyone around that your connection was genuine, sincere, and unbreakable. People couldn't help but be drawn to the magnetic energy between you, as you effortlessly charmed and captivated those in your presence.

Carlos made sure to take extra care of you on the drive home, keeping a watchful eye as he navigated the streets.

He gently helped you out of the car when you arrived at your doorstep, ensuring you were safely inside before bidding you goodnight and heading back to his own place.

As you lay in bed, still buzzing with the excitement of the night, you couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky to have someone like Carlos by your side, always looking out for you and making sure you were taken care of.

If only it was all real and genuine. . . .

You woke up with a pounding headache and a foggy memory of the previous night's events. As you tried to piece together what had happened, you received a call from Carlos.

"Hello?" you muttered into the phone sleepily.

"Oh Y/N, were you asleep? I didn't mean to wake up," Carlos' voice came through your phone and you immediately woke up fully.

When you turned on your TV, the camera panned over to Carlos on the phone, and you were surprised to see him there already.

"Carlos! Why are you there already? You should have called me earlier or something?" you groaned at both your headache and the fact that you would have to go to the paddock by yourself instead of with Carlos.

"Cariño, I already told everyone that you were sick but that you were recovering quickly and everyone wished you well." Carlos stated, making you freeze in the middle of trying to get out of bed.

"You what?"

"You don't have to come Cariño, unless you really want to," Carlos really assured you and you could see his worried face on TV.

"Thank you, you saved me big time," you replied, sliding back into your bed with a relieving sigh.

"You're welcome Cariño,"

During the call, you and Carlos briefly chatted before the race was about to begin.

"Put it on video call for a second," Carlos asked quickly and you did it without hesitation, hoping he wouldn't mind your bed hair.

Carlos gave you an air kiss, and you returned one back, a substitute for the good luck kiss you would always give him before switching off the phone.

You couldn't help but smile at the gesture, knowing that Carlos was trying to be considerate in your absence.

"Okay goodbye Cariño, I'll win the race for you."

"Good luck Carlos."

With your spirits lifted, you sat down to watch the race. You watched attentively as Carlos gave it his all, pushing himself to the limits. To your surprise, he managed to secure second place.

As soon as he was able to, he called you. His voice was filled with a mix of joy and frustration.

"Congratulations, Carlos! Second place is still amazing!" you exclaimed with genuine excitement.

However, Carlos's disappointment was evident as he sighed heavily and said, "I know, but I really wanted that first place. I'll keep pushing harder for the next race."

"You did incredible, Carlos! I'm so proud of you," you reassured him. "Second place is a huge achievement, and it shows how much progress you've made. Don't be too hard on yourself. There will always be another race to aim for that first place."

Carlos let out a small chuckle, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and determination. "Thank you, Cariño. Your support means everything to me. I won't rest until I reach that top spot."

"Well you can rest at my place with your personal massager waiting for you."

"I can't wait Cariño, I'll see you in the evening," He said happily. A smile could be heard from in his voice and you grinned at that.

You didn't know why you decided to invite Carlos over but now the deed was already done.

As you headed into the kitchen, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You knew how much Carlos loved your homemade tortillas and croquetas, and you wanted to make this evening extra special for him.

The sound of sizzling oil and the aroma of frying potatoes filled the air as you prepared the ingredients, imagining the look of delight on Carlos's face when he tasted the delicious meal you had prepared for him.

You quickly made your way to the bedroom to pick out an outfit that would make you look presentable for Carlos's arrival. After some consideration, you settled on a stylish yet comfortable ensemble—a fitted black blouse paired with high-waisted jeans and a pair of sleek black ankle boots.

To add a touch of elegance, you adorned your neck with a delicate silver necklace and slipped on a matching bracelet.

With your hair neatly styled and a hint of makeup to enhance your natural beauty, you felt confident and ready to welcome Carlos into your home.

Later in the day, there was a knock on your door. When you opened it, there was Carlos, holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Wow, Cariño, you look absolutely stunning," Carlos said, his eyes widening in admiration.

You blushed, not realizing the effect you had on him. "Thank you, Carlos. That's really sweet of you to say," you replied, genuinely touched by his compliment.

"Wow, these flowers are beautiful, Carlos! Thank you so much," you said, genuinely touched by the gesture.

Carlos smiled warmly, his eyes filled with admiration. "You deserve nothing less," he replied softly.

As you led him inside, you were completely unaware of the way Carlos' gaze lingered on you, captivated by your every move. Little did you know, his fascination with you had only grown stronger over time, and he couldn't help but hope that one day you would see him in the same light.

As you entered the dining room, Carlos's eyes widened with excitement as he saw the table set with all his favorite dishes. The aroma of homemade tortillas and croquetas filled the room, making his mouth water.

The warm glow of the candles and the delicious aroma that filled the air made his heart skip a beat. "Oh wow, you've really outdone yourself," he exclaimed, his face lighting up even more. "I can't believe you remembered all my favorites. This is incredible."

"I had to do something for my favourite driver," you teased, having Carlos pull away the chair for you so you could sit down.

"I must admit, being your favorite driver has its perks," Carlos replied with a playful wink, as he took his seat across from you. "But tonight, I'm here as more than just your driver. I'm here to enjoy this wonderful meal with an even more wonderful company."

Raising his glass, Carlos proposed a toast to celebrate their special evening together. "To us," he said, his voice filled with genuine affection. "May this be the first of many unforgettable nights spent in each other's company."

As you savored each bite of the delicious meal, the conversation flowed effortlessly between you and Carlos. Laughter filled the air as you shared stories, dreams, and aspirations.

The setting and shared moments created a deep connection, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for this enchanting evening together. The hours flew by, and before you knew it, the empty plates and wine glasses were a testament to the delightful feast.

As the night progressed, you offered to give Carlos a well-deserved back massage. He gladly accepted and lay down on your couch, allowing you to work your magic. You applied gentle pressure and kneaded the tension from his muscles, feeling the knots melt away under his touch.

As you continued the massage, Carlos's body relaxed, and his mind became more at ease. The two of you watched the race replay on the television, analyzing every turn, every move, and every decision Carlos made.

It was a bittersweet moment as you both discussed the missed opportunities and what could have been done differently, but it also kind of brought you two closer together.

In that moment, Carlos realized that having someone who not only supported him but also understood his passion was truly invaluable.

"I think I should have attacked more at this turn," Carlos explained to you as he watched intensely at the way he drove on TV.

Suddenly he felt a sudden weight on his back and he peeked behind him to see you.

He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you peacefully slumbering on his back. The warmth of your body against his, coupled with the rhythmic rise and fall of your breath, brought about a sense of tranquility he hadn't felt in a long time.

Carlos gently shifted his position, careful not to disturb your sleep, and decided to stay in that moment a little while longer, relishing in the comfort and contentment of having you by his side.

As he continued watching the race replay, he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that he had found not only a passionate supporter but also a person with whom he could share quiet, intimate moments like this.

You woke up in your bed for the second time in a row without knowing how you even got there in the first place. Confused, you blinked your eyes open and looked around, trying to piece together how you had ended up in your bed again.

The memories of the enchanting evening with Carlos and the comforting massage flooded back, but the details of how you had transitioned from the couch to your bed remained elusive.

It was as if the night had taken on a dreamlike quality, blurring the lines between reality and imagination. . . .

It was the Spanish Grand Prix, and you had the privilege of attending with Carlos for the first time since you've been together.

As you watched from your seat in Carlos' car how the bustling crowd of racing enthusiasts were, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The vibrant red sundress you wore perfectly matched Carlos' spirited personality and love of speed.

You made your way to the entrance, the sun kissed your skin, and the adrenaline in the air heightened the anticipation of witnessing the roaring engines and exhilarating race. It was a moment you would never forget, a celebration of your shared passion and the beginning of many more thrilling adventures together.

As you two emerged from the car, his hand immediately touched your hips, guiding you through the paddock to the Ferrari garage.

As you walked through the crowded paddock, you couldn't help but notice the sea of red surrounding you. It seemed like everyone was wearing the team colors to show their support for Carlos and his racing team.

The vibrant red sundress you chose seemed to blend in perfectly with the atmosphere, making you feel like a part of the action. Carlos looked at you with a smile, appreciating the effort you had put into matching with him.

Occasionally, he would stop to sign autographs for his adoring fans. The anticipation surrounding Carlos was immense, as this was his home track and everyone expected a lot from him.

Before heading off to his meeting, you turned to him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Your words were filled with warmth and admiration. You assured him. "I'm proud of you, no matter what happens."

"Thank you Cariño." he said smirking at you.

As you watched Carlos prepare for his race, you realized that this time, you would stay by his side instead of wandering off or meeting up with Lily, as you had often done in the past. This time, you understood that he needed more support before this race even started.

Carlos' home track held a special significance for his performance. Not only did it come with a sense of familiarity and comfort, but it also brought with it the unwavering support of the local fans who had been cheering him on since the beginning.

The energy and encouragement from the crowd fueled his determination to push harder and achieve success in front of his home audience.

You watched as he checked his car with the team, catching him glancing up at you multiple times to see if you were still there. It was clear that your presence meant a lot to him, and you were determined to be his unwavering source of support throughout the race.

As the time approached for the race to start, Carlos took you into a private room. As Carlos pulled you into the private room, a sense of urgency filled the air.

With hungry, heated kisses, his lips passionately explored yours, igniting a fiery desire within you. His strong hands tightly gripped your hips, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

His actions sent shivers down your spine and intensified your longing for him. In that moment, you realized just how much his presence and touch ignited a deep desire within you, making you crave more of his passionate embrace.

You felt a surge of desire and passion, fueled by Carlos' intense affection. The way he held you, kissed you, and expressed his need for you created an irresistible magnetism between the two of you, intensifying your own desire and emotions.

Then, with a final look, he disappeared, leaving you with a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

Minutes later, the roar of the engines filled the air, signaling the start of the race. Your heart raced as you awaited the outcome.

Carlos immediately shot off the starting line, his car a blur of speed and determination. He skillfully maneuvered through the pack, steadily gaining ground on the leaders. As the race progressed, it became clear that Carlos was in a fierce battle for first place with Max and Lando, exchanging positions and pushing each other to their limits.

The crowd erupted with excitement, their cheers fueling Carlos' determination to seize the coveted top spot. Lap after lap, he showcased his exceptional racing skills, executing daring overtakes and defending his position with unwavering focus.

The tension in the air was palpable as the race entered its final stages, and it became a nail-biting fight to the finish line.

And then, it happened. The crowd erupted in cheers as Carlos crossed the finish line, victorious. His car sped past, his smile radiating joy and triumph.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, his eyes immediately sought you out.

You melted into his embrace, savoring the taste of victory and the warmth of his touch. The crowd roared around you, but in that moment, it was as if you were the only two people in the world. Your hands were cupping his cheeks, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your palms, while his hands rested firmly on your hips, anchoring you to the present.

The electrifying chemistry between the two of you was undeniable, and as you looked into each other's eyes, you knew that this victory was not just his, but yours as well.

In that instant, the world seemed to stand still. All your worries and doubts were forgotten. All that existed was the connection between you two.

In that moment, a surge of overwhelming love and pride washed over you. Thoughts of all the sacrifices and challenges you both had overcome flooded your mind, and you couldn't help but feel an immense sense of gratitude for being a part of Carlos' journey to victory.

"I'm so proud of you!" You said loud enough for him to hear over the chants of his name across the platform.

"Thank you Cariño, thank you for supporting me throughout," Carlos said, unable to think straight with the amount of adrenaline coursing through his body.

As the cheers of the crowd continued to echo in your ears, you leaned in and pressed your lips against Carlos' once more, savoring the taste of victory and the sweetness of his kiss. It was a moment of pure bliss, a celebration of their shared triumph.

Reluctantly, you pulled away, knowing that Carlos had to go to the podium to receive his well-deserved trophy.

With a final lingering glance, you whispered, "Go get that trophy, my champion." And with that, he ran off, leaving you with a heart filled with love and pride. . . .

It was the afterparty for Carlos' home win and everyone decided to go to a large club to celebrate.

As the night unfolded, you emerged from the car in a stunning red cocktail dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. The dress featured a plunging neckline and intricate lace detailing, exuding an air of elegance and sophistication.

The silky fabric cascaded down to your knees, swaying gracefully with every step you took. Your outfit was completed with a pair of sleek stiletto heels and a statement clutch, adding a touch of glamour to your ensemble.

As you entered the club, heads turned and whispers of admiration filled the air. The dimmed lights of the venue illuminated the sequins and beads embellishing your dress, creating a mesmerizing sparkle that mirrored the excitement in the room.

As the night progressed, you found yourself drawn into a conversation with the partners of the Formula One drivers.

"We're so proud of Carlos, we can't believe he did it," Lily said proudly, giving you a tight hug.

"Thank you, I can't believe it too," You replied, smiling happily at the memory of Carlos winning a few hours ago.

"It seemed like you were like his main support," Lily teased and your cheeks heated at her words.

"That's- that's not true." You denied it, "I just gave him an encouraging word here and there. It was mostly him that did all the work."

"That's not what Carlos said in his interview," Alexandra said, nudging your shoulder with hers.

Wanting to be a responsible person, you volunteered to be the sober one among you and Carlos. You wanted to allow Carlos to fully enjoy himself without worries, knowing that you would drive him home at the end of the night.

However, the girls in the group had a different idea. They suggested taking shots to celebrate, and despite your reservations, you decided to join the festivities.

As the night went on, the DJ played infectious music, prompting everyone to get up and dance. You found yourself caught up in the rhythm, joining in with the vibrant atmosphere.

Suddenly the music was lowered and you followed everyone's gaze, and to your surprise, there was Carlos walking into the club, holding his trophy high in the air. The crowd erupted into applause, creating a sea of cheering fans.

He made his way through the crowd, making space for himself to pass through. The crowd cleared out, creating a path for him to be in the center, where everyone could see him.

As he stepped onto the stage, the entire club erupted into applause. The cheering echoed through the air, a testament to his dedication and hard work.

You watched from a distance as Carlos delivered his speech, thanking his fans and everyone who had supported him that day. His words were filled with gratitude and humility, and it was evident that he meant every word.

From where you were standing, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in Carlos. He had achieved something extraordinary, and you had the opportunity to witness his moment of triumph firsthand.

Suddenly, your attention was drawn to a man in the crowd. He seemed particularly interested in you, despite it being widely known that you were already in a relationship with Carlos.

"Hello señorita, are you alone here?" The man asked. Some of his words were slurred.

"Umm, I'm not actually, I came with my friends," You said, trying to look for anyone familiar that was close by to help you.

"Well I don't see them so it's only me and you," he muttered amused by you. Everyone was watching Carlos' speech which meant that no one was going to help you.

"I'm in a relationship," you tried to remind him but that got him more angry.

"Lies! Everyone knows that you and him are in a PR relationship." He yelled, smashing his fist on the table he was leaning on.

You jumped at his actions, wishing someone would look and help you but it was never the case. This left you feeling confused and frustrated, unsure of how to handle the situation.

Just as you were contemplating how to respond, you felt a presence by your side.

Just as you were contemplating how to respond, you felt a presence by your side. It was Carlos. He looked concerned for you but angry at the man flirting with you.

Carlos stood protectively beside you, sending a clear message that you were not alone and that he would not tolerate anyone disrespecting you.

He stepped forward, his voice firm as he said, "I think it's time for you to leave."

The man's confident facade faltered, realizing he had crossed a line. He stammered an apology, his words barely audible, before quickly scattering off into the crowd. Carlos, still standing by your side, maintained his protective stance, his eyes never leaving the man's retreating figure.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, grateful for Carlos' unwavering support in that moment.

Carlos then stood in front of you, holding your hands in his, "Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You shook your head, thankful that the situation didn't escalate further. "No, I'm okay. He was just being aggressive and disrespectful," you replied, feeling a mix of emotions.

Carlos squeezed your hands reassuringly, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and relief. "I'm glad you're safe. Let's stay together for the rest of the evening, okay? I won't let anything happen to you," he said, his protective nature shining through.

As Carlos guided you through the crowded room, his hands firmly on your waist, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and security. It was as if he was determined to keep you close, not wanting to lose sight of you again.

You leaned into his touch, grateful for his presence and the way he made you feel safe in a world that had seemed so uncertain just moments ago.

Eventually, you found the rest of the group and shared with them what had happened. Concerned for your well-being, they all agreed to stick together for the rest of the night, ensuring that everyone felt safe and protected.

As the evening went on, you felt a sense of unity and support among your friends, and the initial fear and uncertainty began to fade away.

Together, you formed a tight-knit circle, laughing, dancing, and enjoying each other's company, grateful for the strength and solidarity you found in one another.

All the boys decided to let the girls let loose and have a few drinks, taking on the role of guardians for the night.

They made sure the girls were safe, monitoring their alcohol intake and ensuring they were comfortable and protected.

It was a gesture of care and respect, fostering an environment where everyone could have a good time without any worries.

"Babe," you whined, clinging onto your boyfriend so you wouldn't fall to the ground.

Carlos chuckled, his eyes filled with both surprise and amusement at your playful whining. He tightened his grip around you, refusing to let you slip off.

"Oh, so you're trying to escape, huh?" he teased, pulling you closer and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Nice try, but I've got you. I won't let you fall, my love."

"Escape? Who said anything about escaping?" you replied with a mischievous grin, playfully swaying your body to the rhythm of the music.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge gleaming in his eyes. "Well, then show me your best dance moves, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you off the hook," he teased.

As the romantic melody filled the air, you and Carlos locked eyes, the playful banter fading into a tender moment. With a smile, you surrendered to the music, allowing it to guide your movement.

As the music pulsed through your bodies, you let your inhibitions melt away and decided to be more flirtatious with Carlos. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you began to sway your hips and grind your waist against him, teasing him with your seductive moves.

Carlos couldn't help but be captivated by your playful and alluring gestures, his eyes locked on yours, as the chemistry between you intensified on the dance floor.

The flirtatious energy in the air was palpable, as you whispered teasing promises in his ear, leaving him craving more of your touch.

"Mi amor, you better stop before you start something I won't stop," Carlos muttered into your ear, a playful warning laced with desire.

You laughed softly, feeling a surge of excitement at his words. "Oh, really? And what if I want to start something you won't stop?" you whispered back, your voice laced with a hint of seduction.

Carlos' eyes darkened with desire, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Then, mi amor, be prepared for a night you won't forget," he replied, his voice low and filled with anticipation

He leaned in and his lips crashed against yours, his kiss lingering for a few moments. You felt your heart flutter and your stomach knot as you melted into him, your body responding to him as if on autopilot.

You felt a wave of warmth wash over you as you gave in to the moment.

The night unfolded in a blur of passion and desire. Your memory of the events that followed became hazy, fragmented, and ultimately, nonexistent.

All you knew was that you had surrendered to the intoxicating connection between you and Carlos, allowing it to sweep you away into a realm where time stood still and only the sensations of pleasure remained. . . .

"Guys, we're going home," Carlos told the others while supporting you, his protective arm wrapped around your waist. As you stumbled slightly, still lost in the haze of passion, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his presence, knowing that he would take care of you every step of the way.

The night air was cool against your flushed skin as you stumbled towards Carlos' car. The events of the night replayed in your mind, a mix of excitement and contentment filling your thoughts.

As you settled into the passenger seat, you glanced at Carlos, a knowing smile passing between you.

As you fell asleep during the drive, Carlos carefully carried you into his house. His touch was gentle and protective. He laid you down on his bed, tucking you in with care before standing back to admire your peaceful form.

The events of the night had left you both physically and emotionally spent, and in that moment, Carlos couldn't help but feel a surge of tenderness towards you.

You woke up in a daze, your surroundings unfamiliar. Blinking away from the remnants of sleep, you realized you were in Carlos' bedroom. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room.

Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered the events of the previous night and the intense connection you shared with Carlos.

As you tried to move, you were slowly pulled into an embrace from behind you, making you jump slightly. Turning around, you saw Carlos half asleep in the bed, shirtless.

Carlos' dark hair was disheveled and sticking up in all directions, a clear sign that he had just woken up. His usually neat and tidy appearance was now replaced by the unkempt look of someone who had been sleeping soundly.

Despite his sleepy state, Carlos' facial features were still prominent. His strong jawline and high cheekbones gave him a rugged, masculine appearance, while his deep-set eyes and furrowed brow suggested a pensive, thoughtful nature.

As Carlos stretched his arms above his head, the muscles in his upper body rippled beneath his skin. The defined contours of his chest and arms were a testament to his dedication to physical fitness, even as he fought against the lingering drowsiness of his slumber.

His tousled hair and sleepy expression only added to his allure, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, feeling a flutter of warmth in your chest.

His eyes fluttered open, and a sleepy smile formed on his lips as he pulled you closer, whispering, "Good morning, beautiful."

"Did we do it?" You questioned shyly, unable to remember anything after they left the club.

"No, we didn't, you fell asleep before we could do anything," Carlos muttered, fighting against the sleep. "We wouldn't do anything either way, you were drunk."

As you remembered what you were doing in the club, you felt embarrassed and ashamed. The intense connection you shared with Carlos had clouded your judgment, and you realized that you were dangerously close to breaking the rules of the PR contract.

If you didn't stop, you knew that the consequences could be severe, jeopardizing not only your professional reputation but also your relationship with Carlos.

"Carlos, this was only supposed to be temporary, you know?"

"What is?"

"Our relationship."

Carlos then woke up more, resting up against his elbow so he could look at you better. His eyes slowly opened, and a soft frown spread across his face as he gazed at you. He reached out a hand, gently caressing your cheek, his touch warm and comforting.

“You’re talking about the PR contract?”

“Yes, this is what they were worried about, us getting too attached,” you tried to stress your concern but Carlos didn’t look bothered at all.

Carlos fully turned to you, a conflicted look on his face. "I know, I know. But I...I don't think I can just pretend anymore. Not with you."

Your heart raced as he inched closer, his warm brown eyes searching yours. "Carlos, we can't. It'll ruin everything if anyone finds out."

"I don't care," he whispered, cupping your face in his hands. "I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you."

And in that moment, any doubt you had melted away. You pulled him into a passionate kiss, all thoughts of the contract and the façade disappearing. This was real - the feelings you two had developed were undeniable.

His lips met yours with a fervent intensity, the heat between you palpable. All the unspoken emotions you had been harboring came rushing to the surface, igniting a fire within.

The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in his embrace, every touch sending electric shocks through your body.

In that passionate moment, there was no more room for hesitation or uncertainty. This connection you shared was undeniable, transcending any obligations or false pretenses.

It was real, raw, and overwhelming in the most intoxicating way. There was no turning back now - you had given yourself over completely to this man and the feelings you shared.

Whatever happened next, you knew you was in this with Carlos for the long haul. . . .

[rootedinrevisions]

Between Sets and Scenes

SUMMARY: As a dedicated personal trainer in Washington D.C., you've worked with high-profile clients before, but when actor Glen Powell steps into your gym, life takes an unexpected turn. What starts as a simple fitness transformation for Glen quickly evolves into something more when the lines between professionalism and attraction begin to blur. A chance encounter outside the gym leads to late-night conversations, unexpected connections, and the realization that sometimes the best chemistry happens off-screen. But with Glen's rising star and your grounded life, can you keep things casual, or is something deeper already taking shape?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 5.8K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The familiar ping of your inbox echoed through your office as you finished typing up a nutrition plan for one of your long-term clients. Leaning back in your chair, you took a sip of your water, already mentally preparing yourself for the evening rush at the gym. It was mid-spring, the time of year when everyone suddenly remembered they had vacations or summer plans that required them to get into shape. Your calendar was filling up fast, but you thrived in the chaos.

As you clicked through your unread emails, one subject line caught your eye.

Transfer Client: Glen Powell – Ultimate Performance, Los Angeles.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Glen Powell? As in the Glen Powell—actor, movie star, all-around charmer? You quickly opened the email, skimming through the details.

Eddie here, from the L.A. branch. We’ve got a transfer for you—our client, Glen Powell. He’s been working with us for a while, getting in shape for a bunch of his previous roles. Glen’s a solid guy, no diva attitude, but he’s wrapping up filming in D.C. and needs a few weeks of training before his next project. Figured you’d be the best person for the job.

I’ve attached his info and previous programs. Let me know if you need anything else, but honestly, Glen’s a hard worker. You shouldn’t have any problems. 

Just, uh, maybe keep an eye on the tequila intake.

Cheers,Eddie

You chuckled at the tequila comment but focused on the rest of the email. This was definitely an unexpected assignment, but you were more intrigued than overwhelmed. A high-profile client like Glen meant there was a level of professionalism and discretion required, but you had handled demanding clients before. Glen Powell would be no different… right?

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be worth getting a bit more insight from Eddie before you met with Glen. He’d worked with Glen before and could offer valuable information that a few attached files couldn’t convey. You reached for your phone, quickly dialing Eddie's number. After a couple of rings, the line connected, and Eddie’s laid-back demeanor and accent came through.

“Hey! I had a feeling you’d call.”

You laughed softly, leaning back in your chair. “I couldn’t resist. Glen Powell, huh? Big name. I wanted to get some inside scoop on him before I officially start working with him.”

“Totally understandable,” Eddie replied. “Glen’s honestly one of the easiest clients we’ve had. No diva behavior, no slacking off. He shows up, puts in the work, and follows the plan.”

“That’s good to hear,” you said, relieved. “Anything in particular I should keep an eye out for? You mentioned the tequila?”

Eddie chuckled on the other end of the line. “Yeah, man loves his tequila. It’s the only food from our restricted list he really ever eats. He’s not gonna go overboard, but just be aware that he likes to unwind with a drink now and then. He’s been keeping up with his workouts since our last session, so he’s not starting from scratch.”

“So he’s already in pretty good shape?”

“Definitely,” Eddie confirmed. “He looks great, but he’s looking to tighten up for this rom-com he’s shooting soon. Wants to get that beach body look, you know? He’s got a few areas he wants to tone up, but overall, you’re just fine-tuning.”

You made a few notes as Eddie spoke, already thinking of some adjustments you could make to Glen’s program to push him toward his goals. “Got it. Anything else I should know about his routine?”

“He sticks to his meal plans pretty well. I mean, the guy’s a professional at this point. You’ll probably notice he doesn’t need a lot of hand-holding. But don’t be afraid to push him—he responds well to a challenge.”

You nodded, appreciating the insight. “Thanks, Eddie. I’m excited to get started with him.”

“You’ll do great. Just keep it fun, keep him motivated, and I’m sure you two will get along fine.”

After wrapping up the call with Eddie, you hung up and set your phone down, staring at Glen’s profile on your screen. This wasn’t just a regular client. This was Glen Powell—known for his charm, his dedication to his craft, and apparently, his love for tequila.

With a deep breath, you stood up and stretched. Time to prepare for tomorrow, when you’d officially meet your new high-profile client. You had a feeling this wouldn’t be your typical training session, but you were ready to rise to the challenge.

A week had passed since your conversation with Eddie, and you’d spent the time crafting the perfect workout plan for Glen. He didn’t need a complete overhaul, just some fine-tuning to get him into peak shape for his upcoming role. 

Now, sitting at the front desk of the gym, you were watching the clock, knowing Glen would be arriving any minute.

The gym was quieter than usual—late morning hours had a way of lulling the space into a calm before the after-work crowd flooded in. You glanced over at the door, almost on instinct, when the bell chimed. And there he was.

Glen Powell.

He strolled in with that signature effortless charm, his stride confident but relaxed. His black t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, and his black athletic shorts showed off his toned legs. A baseball cap turned backward, completed the look. Even with his casual attire, he had an undeniable presence.

You stood up from the desk, offering him a smile. “You must be Glen.”

His grin matched yours as he walked up to you, extending a hand. “That’s me. And you must be [Your Name], right?”

You nodded, shaking his hand. His grip was firm, and warm—just as you’d expected. “That’s right. Good to meet you in person.”

“Likewise,” he said, his eyes scanning the gym behind you for a moment before settling back on you. “Eddie’s told me great things about you.”

“Oh, did he?” you laughed softly, appreciating the compliment. “He said some pretty good things about you too.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head with a mock-serious look. “Well, I hope I live up to the hype.”

“I’m sure you will,” you replied, motioning toward the gym’s main floor. “Ready to get started?”

His smile widened, and he adjusted the strap of the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Absolutely. Let’s do this.”

You led him toward a quieter corner of the gym where you had the session planned out. “So, Eddie filled me in on what you’ve been up to, but I’d like to hear from you. What’s your goal for these next few weeks?”

As Glen set his bag down, he glanced around at the equipment before turning his focus back to you. “I’ve been trying to keep up with my workouts, but this next role has a lot of, uh... shirtless scenes.” He laughed lightly, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. “I want to lean out a bit more, just tighten everything up.”

You nodded, pulling up his customized workout plan on your tablet. “I’ve got just the thing for you. We’ll be focusing on toning your core, arms, and legs—nothing too extreme, but enough to get you where you need to be before filming starts.”

Glen leaned over slightly to glance at the plan, nodding in approval. “Looks good. You’ve got me doing some heavy lifts, huh?”

You smiled, sensing his enthusiasm. “I do. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure to push you without burning you out.”

He chuckled, clearly ready to dive in, but before you moved toward the weights, you stopped him with a quick smile. “Before we get started, though, I need to take some baseline measurements.”

Glen raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Measurements?”

You nodded, setting the tablet down. “Yeah, just so I can document your progress over the next four weeks. It'll help us both see how far you’ve come when you’re a couple weeks in, especially if you’re aiming to get more toned.”

“Fair enough,” Glen said, stepping back as you grabbed a tape measure from your desk. “You’re the boss.”

He stood still, arms slightly raised as you started taking the first measurement around his chest. You worked quickly, not making it awkward, but there was no denying the closeness as you measured his biceps next.

“Okay, now your waist,” you said, dropping to one knee to wrap the tape measure around his torso.

Glen chuckled lightly, the sound relaxed. “This part’s always the most nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

You laughed softly in return. “It’s not that bad. Besides, you’re already in great shape. This is just to see how much progress you make in the next few weeks.”

“You say that now,” he joked, but the smile he flashed was playful, clearly at ease with the process.

After finishing his waist measurement, you stepped back and jotted down the numbers. “All set. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Glen shook his head, still smiling. “I’ve survived worse.”

“Well, I’ll be making sure to push you just enough to keep it interesting.” You gave him a grin as you set aside the tape measure and picked up your tablet again, ready to log the details. “Alright, now we’re ready. Let’s get started.”

As you both headed toward the weights area, you couldn’t help but notice the ease with which Glen navigated the gym. He wasn’t just a celebrity going through the motions—he was here to work. And something about his grounded, no-nonsense attitude put you at ease, too.

“So,” Glen said, stretching out his arms before reaching for a dumbbell, “how long have you been with Ultimate Performance?”

“About five years now. I started as an intern after getting my degree in sports science, then worked my way up. Now I’m doing personal training full-time.”

“Five years,” he said with a nod, looking impressed. “That’s awesome. I’ve only heard good things about this place.”

“Glad to hear it,” you replied, as you both moved through the warm-up. “And since we’re talking about that—Eddie warned me about your... tequila habits.”

Glen laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, yeah. Guilty. But I promise to keep it in check.”

“Good to know,” you said, smiling as you moved into the first set of exercises. “As long as you put in the work like Eddie says you do, I’ll let you have a cheat day here and there.”

His grin didn’t falter, but his focus shifted, now locked in as he began his first round of squats. You observed his form, making minor adjustments here and there, impressed by his natural athleticism.

It wasn’t long before the playful back-and-forth gave way to the steady rhythm of the workout, Glen pushing himself with the same dedication Eddie had spoken so highly of.

By the time you moved to the free weights, his shirt was damp with sweat, but he never complained or asked to slow down. Glen had a drive that reminded you why you loved working with serious clients—it wasn’t just about the physical change. It was the discipline, the effort, the focus. And Glen had all of that.

By the time you got to the final set of exercises, Glen was visibly feeling the burn. His breathing had picked up, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. You couldn't help but admire how hard he was working, despite the intensity.

As Glen set the weights down after his last set of deadlifts, he straightened up and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, flashing you a tired but amused smile. “You weren’t kidding about this workout plan. You sure you’re not taking it easy on me?”

You laughed softly, meeting his gaze. “Taking it easy doesn’t get results.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head as he caught his breath. “Guess I can’t argue with that logic.” He placed his hands on his hips, still winded but clearly impressed. “I’ll be feeling this tomorrow, won’t I?”

“Probably,” you admitted with a grin. “But that just means you’re making progress. A little soreness is good—it’s how you know your muscles are working.”

“Good to know,” Glen replied with a smirk. “I’ll remind myself of that when I can’t walk tomorrow.”

You shook your head, amused by his playful banter. “You’ll be fine. We’ll take it day by day, and by the end of this, you’ll be in even better shape than you were before.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Better than before, huh?”

You shrugged confidently. “That’s the goal.”

Glen flashed you a grin, wiping down the equipment as he finished cooling down. “Alright then, Coach. I’ll trust you to get me there.”

* * * *

It was one of those weekends where you finally had a moment to breathe. You’d been pushing through long days at the gym, so a girls' night out was exactly what you needed. The bar was buzzing with energy—packed enough to feel lively but not too crowded. You sipped your drink, laughing with your friends as the music pulsed in the background.

A larger group walked in, but you barely glanced their way, too caught up in the conversation at your table. Washington D.C. was always filled with all types, so it wasn’t unusual for new faces to pass through. But after a while, you noticed your friends exchanging glances, their eyes darting toward the bar.

“What?” you asked, curious about what had captured their attention.

Your friend leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper as she nodded toward the bar. “Isn’t that...?”

You turned your head, following their gaze—and there he was. Glen Powell. Standing at the bar, his familiar smile in place as he chatted with the bartender. He looked effortlessly casual, wearing a simple grey t-shirt and dark jeans, blending in with the crowd in a way only someone like him could. He seemed completely relaxed, enjoying his night off with a group of friends or maybe coworkers, a drink in hand.

Your heart skipped for a moment, but you quickly dismissed the thought. He was a client, nothing more. It wasn’t unusual for him to be out, enjoying himself. You took a sip of your drink, willing yourself not to think too much about it.

But as the night went on, you found your drink dwindling, and you knew you’d need a refill soon. “I’m gonna grab another drink,” you said to your friends, sliding out of the booth.

As you approached the bar, you felt the press of the crowd around you. You waved at the bartender, but before you could place your order, you heard a voice behind you.

“Should I be worried about my trainer drinking on a weekend?”

You turned, and there was Glen, standing beside you with a teasing smile. His eyes were bright with amusement, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a grin that you couldn’t help but mirror.

You raised your glass in a playful toast. “I’m off-duty,” you said with a smirk. “Besides, I’m not the one who needs to watch their tequila intake, remember?”

Glen laughed, leaning slightly closer as if the conversation was just between the two of you. “You caught me.” He glanced at the glass in his hand and then back at you. “I’ll take it easy. Don’t want you to give me a lecture at the gym on Monday.”

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“Nah,” he replied, his voice warm. “But you don’t go easy on me, that’s for sure.” He glanced down at your glass. “Looks like you’re due for a refill though. Mind if I grab that one for you?”

It was an offer so casual, so easy, that for a second you almost forgot the circumstances—he was your client, after all. But his tone was friendly, his expression open and relaxed, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Only if it’s not tequila,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him with a playful grin.

He laughed again, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Deal. I’ll stick to something that won’t get me in trouble with my trainer.”

You smiled, and before you could even protest, Glen signaled the bartender. “Another for her, and I’ll take one too,” he said, his voice smooth but casual, as though he wasn’t really paying for your drink but just sharing in a moment.

The bartender moved efficiently, and within seconds, two fresh glasses were placed in front of you. You picked up yours, the coolness of the glass meeting your hand as you glanced up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, that easy grin still in place. “I figured it might soften the blow when you destroy me in the gym next week.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, so you’re buttering me up now?”

“Is it working?”

The way he said it, with just the right mix of playfulness and charm, had you smiling despite yourself. He wasn’t being pushy, wasn’t crossing any lines—just having fun with the moment.

You took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid refreshing after the heat of the crowded bar. “I’m still going to push you hard on Monday, just so you know.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in slightly, his voice lowering just enough to feel like a secret between the two of you. “Taking it easy doesn’t get results, right?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his words, recognizing your own mantra being thrown back at you. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the noise of the bar seemed to fade into the background as you stood there with Glen, the conversation flowing easily, as if you were just two people sharing a drink rather than client and trainer.

“So, is this your usual spot?” Glen asked, leaning an elbow on the bar as he turned his full attention to you.

“Not really,” you admitted. “It’s more of an impromptu girls' night kind of thing. What about you? Out with friends?”

“Yeah, wrapping up a long week of filming,” he said, motioning toward the group in the back. “Figured we’d blow off some steam before the craziness starts up again next week.”

You nodded, understanding. “Well, you deserve it. Just don’t go overboard. I don’t want to have to kick your ass on Monday for drinking too much.”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ll try to keep it under control, but no promises.”

“Noted,” you said with a smirk, the comfortable rhythm of the conversation settling between you both. There was something almost effortless about it—just enough teasing to keep it fun, but not too much to cross the line into anything more than friendly banter.

Still, as you stood there at the bar with Glen, the energy around you shifting just slightly, it was hard to ignore the way your heart raced just a little faster. You quickly pushed the thought away. He was your client, after all. This was just a chance encounter on a Saturday night—nothing more.

“Anyway,” Glen said after a moment, glancing at your now-refilled drink, “I better get back to the group. But don’t worry, I’ll be ready for whatever workout you throw at me on Monday.”

You raised your glass in a lighthearted toast. “You’d better be.”

With a final smile, Glen gave you a nod and made his way back to his friends, leaving you standing at the bar, a faint smile lingering on your lips as you watched him walk away.

You made your way back to the booth where your friends were sitting, trying to act like your quick conversation at the bar hadn’t just sent a small thrill through your chest. As soon as you sat down, though, you realized there was no hiding anything from them. Their eyes were all wide, gleaming with curiosity, and they immediately leaned in.

“Okay, spill,” one of your friends demanded, barely able to contain her excitement. “What was that?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “What do you mean?”

Another friend nudged your arm playfully. “Don’t act like you don’t know! That was Glen Powell, wasn’t it?”

You blinked, then gave a slow nod, not quite ready for the tidal wave of questions that was sure to follow. “Yeah… that was Glen.”

Their jaws practically dropped in unison.

“Oh my God,” One of them breathed. “You’re telling me you’ve been casually talking to Glen Powell at the bar this whole time you’ve been gone?”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you replied quickly, trying to wave off the moment as you took a sip of your drink. “We just ran into each other, that’s all.”

One of their eyes narrowed as she leaned in even closer. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you mention a ‘high-profile client’ a couple of weeks ago? Are you telling me Glen Powell is the guy you’ve been working with at the gym?”

You sighed, knowing there was no getting around it now. “Okay, yes. I’ve been working with him for a couple of weeks. But seriously, it’s nothing. Just professional.”

Their eyes nearly bulged out of their heads as they processed that revelation.

“He’s your client?” One of them echoed in disbelief. “How did you not tell us it was him?”

You gave a half-shrug, trying to play it cool. “I mean, I couldn’t exactly name-drop him. It’s a work thing, you know? Confidentiality and all that.”

“Oh, please,” one of them said with a wave of her hand. “You’re too modest. Glen Powell is out there starring in movies, and you’ve been working with him to get him in shape? That’s insane.”

“It’s really not that crazy,” you insisted, feeling your cheeks warm under their eager stares. “He’s just another client.”

“Just another client?” Another one repeated incredulously. “I’m sorry, but you can’t tell me that conversation at the bar wasn’t flirty. He was totally into you.”

You laughed, shaking your head again. “It wasn’t flirting. We were just joking around. If anything, I was warning him about his workout on Monday after all that tequila he’s probably going to drink tonight.”

One of your friends leaned back with a knowing smile. “Oh, come on. He totally offered to buy your drink, didn’t he?”

You hesitated for a moment, then gave a sheepish nod. “Yeah… he did. But it wasn’t a big deal! He was just being nice.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Nice? Or maybe a little flirty?”

You sighed, trying to downplay it. “It wasn’t like that. He was just joking around. Honestly, we talked more about his workout plan than anything else.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, her tone teasing. “I’m sure it was all about the workout plan.”

You could feel their eyes on you, the playful smiles they exchanged as they leaned in with the kind of curiosity only good friends could get away with.

“Seriously,” you insisted, though your grin betrayed you. “He’s a client. It’s not like that.”

Your friends weren’t convinced. “Well, it sure looked like something to me. The way he was talking to you at the bar? He didn’t look like he was thinking about squats and deadlifts, that’s for sure.”

Another one chimed in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yeah, and that whole ‘watch your tequila intake’ thing? That was prime trainer-to-client flirting material.”

You laughed again, leaning back in your seat as the teasing continued. “It wasn’t flirting,” you repeated, though their playful accusations were starting to wear down your defenses.

“Right,” one of the girls said with a wink. “Well, even if it wasn’t, he clearly likes talking to you. So maybe that’s a sign of something.”

One of the others nodded, her expression turning a bit more serious. “Hey, we’re just saying—if something does happen, you have our full support.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship settle around you. “Thanks, but really, it’s all professional. I’m not looking for anything more.”

One of the girls raised her glass in a toast. “To keeping it professional… but maybe hoping for a little fun along the way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you clinked glasses with her. “I’ll drink to that.”

As you took a sip, though, your thoughts wandered back to the easy conversation you’d had with Glen at the bar. Sure, it was just work—just a client interaction—but there had been something undeniably lighthearted, something that had left you smiling long after he’d walked away.

As the night went on, you found yourself stealing glances at Glen from your spot at the booth, the laughter of your friends fading into the background. You couldn’t help but notice the easy charm he exuded, even as he joked with his friends at the bar. It was hard not to smile every time you thought about your previous conversations. The playful banter between you two had definitely sparked something beyond a simple trainer-client dynamic.

After a while, you decided to venture back to the bar for another drink, this time determined to keep the mood light. As you approached, Glen noticed you immediately, his face breaking into a grin.

“Hey! Look who it is,” he called out, leaning against the bar with a casual confidence. “Back for another?”

You chuckled, leaning against the bar beside him. “What can I say? You have to stay hydrated, right?”

He laughed a warm sound that made you feel more at ease. “True. So, what’s your game plan for the weekend?”

“Honestly? Just a girls' night tonight. You know, drinks, gossip—typical stuff,” you said, your gaze lingering on him as you took a sip of your drink.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds fun. Any exciting plans with the girls?”

You shrugged. “Nothing too crazy. Just catching up. What about you? Any plans for the weekend?”

Glen leaned closer, lowering his voice slightly. “I was thinking of having a quiet night, maybe get some takeout on the way home. But who knows? My plans could change.”

You smirked, noticing the suggestive undertone in his words. “Oh? What kind of changes do you have in mind?”

He met your gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Well, I could be convinced to do something more… interesting if the right company showed up.”

You felt a warmth spread through you, caught off guard by the implication behind his words. “Interesting? Like what?”

“Maybe a movie night? You know, two people just relaxing and enjoying some downtime,” he suggested, his tone playful yet serious.

“Sounds tempting,” you replied, your heart racing a little faster at the thought. “What kind of movies do you like?”

“Rom-coms, obviously,” he said with a wink. “I’m an actor, after all. Gotta stay on brand.”

You laughed, but then the conversation shifted. “So… any significant others I should know about?” you asked, genuinely curious.

He shook his head, his expression turning thoughtful. “Nope, just me. I’ve been focusing on work mostly.”

“Same here,” you admitted. “I’m single, too. Just haven’t had the time to meet anyone.”

“Funny how that works,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you. “Two busy people, both single.”

There was a charged silence between you as you both processed the moment, the playful tension hanging in the air. Glen shifted slightly closer, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “You know, it’s refreshing to meet someone who gets it. Not many people can understand the kind of schedule I keep.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “Yeah, I'm sure it can be tough.”

“Maybe we should change that,” he suggested, his voice lower now. “Have some more ‘interesting’ nights.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart racing at the unspoken invitation. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Just then, as the night began to wind down, you glanced at your phone to check the time. “Wow, it’s getting late. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

“Yeah, it sneaks up on you,” he said, glancing around. “Are you getting an Uber home?”

You nodded, a hint of reluctance creeping in. “Yeah, I should probably call one.”

Glen frowned slightly, then offered, “Let me give you a ride home. I don’t want you waiting out here for an Uber.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. It was tempting, but you couldn’t shake the professional boundaries. “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”

“Not at all,” he insisted, his smile warm and inviting. “I insist. Plus, it’ll give us more time to chat. And, you know, I can promise not to make you do any burpees in the car.”

You laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating. “Okay, if you insist.”

As you both walked outside, the warm spring air wrapped around you. Glen kept the conversation light as you walked to his car, and you found yourself enjoying his company even more. Once you were inside, he turned to you, the playful atmosphere returning.

“So, how bad my pis my punishment going to be on Monday for the drinks I had tonight?” He asked, his gaze locking onto yours.

You smirked, leaning in a little closer. “I might just add some extra reps to your routine.”

His smile widened, and suddenly the air felt charged again. You could feel the intensity building between you, the chemistry undeniable.

“Bring it on,” he replied, his voice dropping lower. “I can handle it.”

And before you knew it, the space between you disappeared. Glen leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet electrifying kiss.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you realized you’d crossed a line, but it felt exhilarating. You were no longer just trainer and client; you were something else entirely.

“Wow,” you breathed, your heart racing.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Wow, indeed.”

As Glen pulled out of the bar's parking lot, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in your stomach. The city lights blurred past the windows, and you glanced over at him, catching his eyes focused on the road, a slight smile playing on his lips.

When you arrived at your apartment, you hesitated for just a moment before inviting him in. “Do you want to come in? I mean, if you’re still up for that movie?”

“I’d love to,” he replied, stepping out of the car and following you inside.

Once inside, you hung up your coats and motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. You headed to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of drinks before settling next to him. Glen watched you with that familiar warmth in his gaze, and it made your heart flutter.

“Okay, I’ll let you pick the movie,” you said, scrolling through your options.

“Let’s go classic,” he suggested, pointing at How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. “This one is always a good time.”

You chuckled. “Good choice. It’s one of my favorites.”

As the movie started, you both settled into the couch, the initial awkwardness fading into the cozy atmosphere. Glen’s arm rested casually on the back of the couch, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, enjoying the easy banter that flowed between you.

About halfway through the film, you felt his arm move, sliding down to your shoulder as he gently pulled you into his side. A warmth spread through you at the gesture, and you smiled, leaning into him comfortably.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking down at you with those charming eyes.

You nodded, unable to suppress your grin. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

“Good,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. “I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I am,” you replied softly, feeling the connection between you deepening. You could feel his heartbeat against you, steady and reassuring, and the atmosphere felt charged with a sweet kind of intimacy.

As the movie continued, you caught yourself glancing up at him, noticing how he focused intently on the screen, yet you could sense he was aware of you too. Every so often, your shoulders brushed, sending little sparks of electricity between you.

“Have you seen this before?” he asked, his gaze still on the movie.

“A million times,” you laughed. “It’s one of those movies I can watch on repeat and never get tired of.”

He smiled, looking down at you. “It’s one of my favorites too…Kind of like the person watching it.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment, a light flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach. “You’re smooth, aren’t you?”

“Only when the situation calls for it,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

The film played on, but the focus began to shift more towards each other. You felt the tension build in the small moments, the lingering touches, and the way his gaze lingered on you. It was as if the lines between work and pleasure had blurred completely, and you were both caught up in something new and thrilling.

With the credits rolling, Glen turned to you, the air between you electric. “So, what do you think? Think I can pull off this upcoming Rom-Com role after watching one?”

You laughed, your heart racing. “I think you’ve got the charm down already. Just maybe don’t take any advice from this movie for your actual dating life.”

“Noted,” he replied, his voice dropping slightly. “You know maybe I need a few more rom-com movie nights to fully prepare for this role.”

“I might know someone who could help you with that,” you said, your pulse quickening as you realized how much you wanted to spend more time with him.

He leaned in slightly, his expression softening. “You know, I really enjoy spending time with you outside the gym.”

“Me too,” you admitted, the vulnerability of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Before you could think it through, you leaned in closer, feeling the magnetic pull between you. And just like that, he was closing the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tentative kiss.

It felt like the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the moment. When you pulled away, breathless, you realized this was more than just a client relationship; it was the start of something new, something exciting.

[risuola]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 ⋯ heaven lost its most beautful angel.

contents ✤ archangel!satoru x demon!reader, smut (nipple play, oral, maybe a tad bit borderline dubcon-ish?, corruption, some dirty talk), a lot of religious topics mentioned (not always in the best light), wc. 4639 ⋯ reader discretion is advised series masterlist

Born from pure nothing, Satoru has only got to know happiness. An illusion of it, a sort of safety that comes with stability in life. And it is good. He is, after all, the honored one, an archangel, the highest prince of Heaven, standing by the side of the king — God, a father of every creation, his father. Blessed by His favor, throughout centuries of existence, Satoru has only ever experienced bliss. Despite him being the last one created, the youngest of a bunch of archangels, he is the most perfect display of what God is capable of. A favorite, the purest and most innocent, a pristine mirror of excellence that could have only been made by a hand of his beloved father.

It’s beautiful, it really is. People worship divinities, the faith is blind and the angel has never had to do much to enforce the proper beliefs whenever there was a doubt born. With his role to serve God’s purpose and fulfill His will, Satoru traveled and shown up in many places in the world, making sure the evolvement of humanity goes along the lines of the greater plan. Of something a simple human isn’t capable of comprehending. But it’s endearing, he thinks.

He watches it from above, his eyes able to engulf all of the crowd — he has always had good eyes. Throughout the hundreds of years since his creation, he’s got to witness the ups and downs of people’s development and with ease on his mind he just knows that no matter what times bring and take, the faith will stay rooted into the simple mortal minds. Or so he thought before the balance of the world shifted again.

Demons and devils have never been a foreign topic in the spectrum of religion — they’re a part of what makes the good feel good, they’re what’s bad and ugly. Popping here and there from time to time they usually made for a short entertainment for Mikael’s army and Satoru remembers just few of severe conflicts that took place on earth and one that happened at the gates of Heaven. Great losses were suffered at the times, his brothers and sisters that had lost the fights will always stay in his memory, but with the progression of time, the rate of haunts and possessions didn’t go much higher. Satoru actively makes sure to eradicate every doubt that blooms in poor little hearts of the gullible and vulnerable.

“Filthy creatures,” Azrael grumbles, his voice dry and harsh as he watches alongside Satoru yet another crowd of humans that carelessly stray from the right path and into the world of sin. “Their pathetic souls are yet to cry at the gates and plead for mercy when it’s their own choices that bring them down to hells. It should be easier for them to resist such primitive urges.”

“Father has made them the way they are for a reason, brother,” the white-haired one lightens up but the angel of death beside shows no change of attitude. “Faith is a choice and not a given but even if it’s only in the face of demise, every soul that has found God at some point deserves to be blessed.”

“Sometimes it seems as if watching them for so many centuries has rubbed their naivety across your feathers, Satoru,” Azrael lets out a sigh and spreads out his wings. Large and rich in dark feathers cast a shadow looming over his brother’s stature but the younger one only smiles at the sight. There’s an exchange of appreciative nods and their ways part.

Satoru isn’t naïve. He has always been more than capable of cold-thinking and calculating his actions, despite being known for a tender heart and gentle soul. The ways in which he acts are contained in the frames of necessity, he doesn’t go for the flashy displays of power and divinity. He likes to gently encourage people, hint the right paths so that they can realize where to go and how to live the rest of the time they’re given. Most of them find what’s there to discover, an enlightenment. Lord is merciful, benevolent. There are no ends to His love.

Then why people toss it away? Silly, silly creatures.

But then, times change again and as the world evolves and church begins to lose its influence, Satoru looks around with troubled mind. It seems as if people have lost direction again, finding themselves at the crossroads with unknown ends. Wrong people are taking highest spots in the hierarchy, preaching wrong words to the wrong crowds. And it crumbles, falls like a house of cards, trapping some inside and pushing away others. It’s terrible, he thinks, as his bright blue eyes meet the cloudy surface of doubt and uncertainty. And demons, them again, thrive like they never did before.

Now more than ever, little devils crawl out of the gates of Hell and poison humanity with their heinous games. Some morph themselves into forms akin to humans, blend in and start cults in the name of Lucifer and some stay true to themselves, haunting people here and there, testing their resolves, putting their faith to trials. More and more people are leaving God’s side. It’s bad, it’s unacceptable. Those demons—

“An angel?” —demons like you; devil with a face of an angel. “Even better,” you smile, but there’s nothing but malice in the gesture, “an archangel,” you inhale the divine scent that surrounds a man in front. That’s what brought you here, to a house that seemed to be stained in his divine energy. You tend to haunt the biggest believers, it’s fun to see them crumble, but you didn’t expect an actual saint. “It must be my lucky day,” you purr. Lovely.

Satoru has been warned about you before he moved onto his quest to rid the world of the dark powers that spread its tendrils among humans and it only took a short glimpse before he knew that it’s you who his brothers have been telling him about. It’s you who is told to bring angels down to Hell, to cause their banishment from Heaven. He’s lost one of his siblings because of your wrongdoings. You’re nothing but bad news, a demon so beautiful you’d easily convert even the most devoted believer into a sinner. You’ve been spreading nothing but doubt and fear, savoring the fruit of your doings with pleasure. You’re having fun on earth, it’s much more entertaining than all hells combined. You love to hear how people blame gods for every inconvenience when you can clearly see what led them down the path of bad luck. You whisper little hints into their non-expecting ears, encourage them and watch the dread wash over their faces. It's a cruel game you play but it's rooted deeply into your nature.

“It’s an odd excitement in your voice, demon,” Satoru retorts firmly and his eyes follow you as you circle him. It’s predatory, he feels like a pray underneath your curious, taunting gaze and he nags himself for it — he’s above you, you’re just a demon. There’s nothing you can do to break his spirit, he’s above all your tricks.

“Oh, forgive me,” you lower your head, but nothing in the gesture spells disrespect more than a smirk that dances on your mouth. Slowly you make your way back in front of him and then, you plop onto the bed to your right. You bounce few times on the soft mattress and dart your head up, looking at him, challenging him. He refuses.

“You’re in no search of forgiveness.”

“What gave it away?” You’re cocky, huffing an air out of your lungs in a voiceless chuckle and tilting your head more to the side. There’s a danger to your silhouette, you’re confident. You are a sin.

Satoru lets out a sigh and his eyes narrow. “What could have not given it away?” He questions and yet another laugh cuts through the otherwise silent atmosphere of the room. It’s melodic, it’s… pretty?

“Smart boy… Your name?”

“Satoru.”

“Not truly a name I expected,” you bare your teeth in a smile and Satoru notices the sharpness of your fangs. They are not quite animalistic but much sharper than his own. It fits.

“I travel through people a lot, I have taken a name akin to their own,” he explains, keeping his tone somewhat dry as he studies you. You’re not demonic per se. In fact, you’re barely even scary if he compares you to the thousands of demons he’s encountered in his existence. They are usually tainted with darkness, often bearing features of animals or mystical creatures. Scales and horns seemed to be usual on their bodies and eyes that shown nothing but abyss, but you — you’re nothing of it. You seem too inviting. There’s attractiveness to the way you look; your eyes are a little lidded and engulfed by rows of eyelashes, your lips seem as if they were created specifically to tempt, to kiss. Your frame doesn’t stray from what Satoru would see among humans and your skin doesn’t bear any signs of disfigure or scales. If not for the aura that surrounds you and the way mischief glints in your eyes, one could easily mistake you with an actual angel. No wonder why it is so easy for you to spread doubt.

“That’s fair,” you shrug and push yourself up. As you pass Satoru, a chill runs down his back as the darkness stretches behind you. He watches as you look around the place, running your fingertips across the surface of the desk and few shelves. You touch the spines of books that decorate them, tenderly rub the top of the ceramic figure in a shape of a little cherub. There’s something cat-like in a way you curiously explore the area, seemingly oblivious to the watchful gaze that follows you.

“If turning into nothing isn’t on your list of wishes, I’d advise you to go back where you came from,” the angel speaks after a little while, taking a step into your direction and you chuckle, sparing him a short glance from the corner of your eye. It’s brief, but it makes him stop.

“Good advice,” you muse, taunting him with the intonation of the syllables and he hates how easily you throw him off balance. “I’m not the best in following instructions though.”

“You seem to struggle with more than just that.” It’s a jab and you raise your eyebrow before you fully turn towards him. It’s only an accident that you knock the little figurine off the shelf and it breaks against the hardwood floor. “Your playtime on earth is over, demon.”

“Oh, my playtime on earth has just begun, angel.”

“If you refuse to comply, I’ll be forced to take you to Heaven where you’ll be trialed and punished for every deplorable crime you have committed against the greater plan of God.”

“There’s no need for me to go up to Heaven when I see Heaven came down to me,” you chuckle, resting your eyes on his face for few seconds before you allow them to run down his figure and you admire. He is a sight to behold, a stature of toned flesh and muscles balanced into something truly divine. “I need to admit, you’re very nice on the eyes. Such a beautiful angel.”

Oh, you’re dangerous. Your voice just like honey warms Satoru from the inside out. He feels his heart rate increasing and his breathing becoming shallower as you admire him so openly. He should be used to it, he is used to being worshipped by mortals, but not by a creature of your kind. He watches you approach him, your steps confident between the ceramic pieces of a broken cherub and he feels his resolve begin to falter as you playfully prod his chest with your long, pointy nail. Then you drag it down his pectoral, run it across his stomach and he grabs your wrist before you reach his waistline.

“I will not play your games, demon,” he states, looking you in the eyes with forced calm and firm voice.

“No? You seem to be a little… troubled.”

“Do not mistake my confusion for submission. I am an archangel, I will not allow myself to be corrupted by your alluring presence,” he states a little too harshly and he hates it. There’s something so utterly irresistible about you that makes him think of giving in. It makes him want to taste the temptation and deep down he knows that he had already lost. His thoughts are consumed by the pictures of you, it’s against everything he knows, it’s against everything he is.

And it’s all that you are. A play of taunt and seduction. A wild, untamed soul entangled in dark shades of evil, a temptress with one objective rooted deeply into your core. Chaos.

“I am sure you can resist me,” you tease, getting even closer and you lean in, running the tip of your nose along the side of his neck. “Oh, you smell so good. So pure and innocent.”

“Enough.” He groans and it’s final. You laugh, but he doesn’t find it funny. Your hot breath lingers on his skin long after you distance yourself from him. Your hands raise in a mock surrender but it’s only a moment before you resume your game.

“You know what I find interesting?” A question leaves your mouth as you twirl in the dim light of the nightstand lamp and sit on top of the window edge. The night wind gently messes your hair and your eyes twinkle with the spark of playful evil. “You, angels, are always so strict and set that you don’t need any pleasure and all… why would it be?” Your tone is a derision of curiosity, you carefully pick and choose your words to form sentences obscure, unclear.

“My body has been crafted with a purpose much greater than to experience carnal needs and craves,” he says, firm on his beliefs despite the warmth coursing through his veins. “Human pleasures stand below my existence; the essence of an archangel is much more monumental. I was designed, both in mind and body, to focus solely on my duties and responsibilities, leaving no room for personal desires.” The answer is practiced, it flows in a way he’s used to tell it, however this time he knows that he’s lying to himself and everyone else. He’s lying in front of a demon, and oh, you know so well that he does. It’s amusing. It’s delicious. You want more. You want to break him.

“If that would be the case, why did your beloved god create you with a dick, huh?” You’re blunt, too blunt for Satoru’s liking but he has to let that slide, otherwise he’d flush bright red.

“My creator did not intend me to experience sexual pleasure. Instead, He believes I should focus solely on my sacred duties without being distracted by carnal desires.” He tries again, internally feeling all of his defenses crumbling and you laugh, as if you can tell the words mean nothing.

“I bet I could make you cum by as much as flicking my tongue over your nipple.”

There goes the blush. Satoru feels it creep up his chest and neck, his face and to the tips of his ears. The deep shade of crimson contrasts starkly against his pale complexion and pristine white hair and he closes his eyes, tries to compose himself but your giggles make it so difficult. You’re content, he knows it, you’re a demon, for god’s sake. It’s your tactic to break humans, a form of pulling at the most primal strings, but he’s not a human, he’s above all of them, he shouldn’t break just like that. It’s a turmoil. Satoru hates the feeling, he hates the way his body, the perfect creation designed by his father, reacts to the picture you planted into his mind. It shouldn’t be happening, why is this happening?

“Breathe, angel,” your voice is a whisper, it’s right against Satoru’s mouth. He feels your breath on his skin, the tip of your nose running down his cheek, your tongue tracing his jawline. His heart struggles to keep up, it’s too much, it’s too close, you’re too much. Inhale. Exhale. He forces himself to breathe, a little too shallow, a little too fast. His body is tense, you’re too close.

He won’t do this.

All defense mechanisms flare up in Satoru’s body, he stills, his eyes stay squeezed shut. Your hands dance atop of his shoulders, trace the shapes of his form and he feels you. You toy with him, your claws run down his chest, your fingertips tease the edges of his neckline, the white collar of his shirt. Calm down. It’s wrong, it’s so wrong, he shouldn’t feel it. Why does it feel right? It’s not right. It’s not angelic, you’re a demon, you want to corrupt him, to destroy him.

He cannot do this.

His fists clench up to his sides and you hum the softest melodies under your breath, as you lean in more and more. You exhale, but it’s different than his ragged breaths. You’re relaxed, he doesn’t have to see you to know you’re smiling. You take a step and he takes one back. It’s paralyzing. Satoru’s thoughts are overtaken by pictures of you, by pictures he has never allowed himself to project. It’s one of your tricks, isn’t it?

He can’t—

It feels warm. His whole body feels warm and it coils, somewhere below his bellybutton, a knot of tension he has yet to experience. It puts a haze to his thoughts, blurs the persistent image of your sinful tongue and he doesn’t understand it fully. A sequence of twitches and trembles send his mind into panic and he falls. His knees buckle, the edge of the mattress causes them to bend and he grabs onto the closest thing, onto you, when his body drops onto the mattress. The soft bounce ripples through him and he feels you above him. You giggle, it’s quiet and playful and it vibrates through the skin over his collarbone the moment you press your lips there.

“S-stop,” he mutters. It’s a weak plea concurring with a feeble squeeze on your hips. His eyes flare open, he feels feverish. You’re right on top of him but not quite touching him enough. Your hips are in the air, you’re taking it slow, you like to play with your prey.

“Yeah? You want me to stop?” You coo. Patronizing tone of your voice envelop him in a veil of mockery and he heats up again. Your dainty, swift fingers deal with the buttons before he has a chance to notice, his fogged-up mind struggling to keep up. “You’re gonna have to be more convincing than this, angel.”

He—

Your tongue circle around his nipple and Satoru moans. It’s a cry, a sound of an angel falling into a trap of a demon. An angel losing itself in something unholy, tasting the fruit that’s forbidden. And you smile against his skin, teasing the hardening bud with your teeth. They’re sharp against his sensitive skin and he hisses shortly before you soothe the ache with the warmth of your muscle. It’s wet and hot against his skin and Satoru’s brain short-circuit.

Your hand explores his stomach, tracing the stretched-out muscles that twitch every time you touch them. He arches off the bed, his body leaning into the sin while his mind tries to fight it — a losing battle of everything that’s divine in him against the carnal desires that weren’t supposed to be there.

Lust is a foreign concept to Satoru. He’s seen it in humans, he’s seen souls losing their purity to the wicked pleasures. He’s seen those shameless people giving into lascivious lifestyles, searching for stimulus so depraved and vulgar that each time he witnessed them, he wondered how could one’s faith loose to something so salacious. How could God create such weakness, but he believed that even the souls that lost their path in the indecency could find a way back into the Father’s grace. Would he be able to get back?

“P—haah—please,” he whimpers, pathetic against all of his instincts and his hand finds the back of your head. Your hair feels soft against his palm, like silk and honey and he shivers at the contact. You’re unbothered by his attempts, licking and sucking his delicate skin as if he’s one of those desserts people like so much.

Satoru’s nipples are swollen, the skin around them red from your frisky abuse. More and more sounds escape his mouth, it’s pathetic, how he whines underneath you, how you rendered him completely helpless. And he panics again. It feels odd, his body tenses and he doesn’t know why. Hot blood floods down his body, it feels torturously tight in his pants. He twitches, his fingers curl against your head, tugging at the beautiful threads of your hair and his eyes flutter shut.

Suddenly, it’s too hot. It’s wet, it feels sticky against his sensitive skin. A wave of relief washes over him, it tickles something inside his brain just the right way. It’s feels gratifying, addicting. Is that what pleasure feels like? Are those stars dancing in front of his eyes a sign of fulfillment? Satoru’s mind is hazy, everything feels blurry, but he relaxes into the feeling. His thigh still trembles, the lower parts of his stomach muscles contract a little less now, a little slower and he feels it in his pants. It’s satisfying, it’s foreign. It’s a bliss.

“Did my beautiful, beautiful angel made a mess?” You coo once more and it sounds a little less mocking than all of your previous sentences. Or maybe it’s Satoru’s mind playing tricks on him.

“Y-yeah… I think I did,” he pants out. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling, on the heavens above and he wonders if He saw that? Father sees everything. Have Satoru’s brothers also witnessed that? Were they enjoying the front row seats to his demise?

You’re already on your way down, pressing sinful kisses to his sacred body as your fingers undo the button of his pants and pull down the zipper. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll clean you up,” you purr, inhaling the intoxicating scent of him. You pull the fabric down. His boxers are wet as you peel them off his body. Hot strings of cum stretch between his skin and underwear, it coats his cock and the flesh around it, trickling down to his balls.

You gasp at the sight, it’s truly a vision of pure angelic glory. He’s hard, still, the veins pulsate ever so slightly around the thick girth, leading your eyes to the pink, glistening tip. “You surely are his favorite,” you muse before your tongue darts out, eager to taste him.

Satoru’s breath hitches in his chest and he hesitates to look down. Maybe if he doesn’t see it, it won’t be as bad of a sin, maybe it’s not his end. But it sure does feel good. Is he allowed to feel good? He moves his head, eyes dropping lower until they meet the sight of you. You shot him a smile, a grin worthy of a devil as you lap at the white seed sticking to his flesh. It’s lewd, the way your tongue works around his curves and edges. He hears your soft purr; he feels it every time your lips close around the sensitive tip of his cock. It’s messy, your chin is slick from his spent, there’s some on the tip of your nose, it coats your reddened mouth and greedy fingers. “You taste divine,” you murmur, tracing the underside of his member with the flat of your tongue and then, your hand wraps around him. The gentle pressure squeezes a moan out of Satoru’s mouth. He can’t look away. Not when your eyes are fixed on him. He sees the glint of mischief in the color of your eyes, it’s almost reddish as it glows in the dim lights.

You play with him, eliciting moan after moan from his troubled body, feeding of the internal turmoil that seeps through his skin making him that much more delectable. Your mouth works in tandem with the steady pumps of your hand and you feel him twitching already. He’s so innocent, so inexperienced that you just know he’s gonna come too soon, but it excites you. You want more from him, he’s sweet on your tongue, addicting. And oh, isn’t he beautiful? With his face contorting in pleasure, his cheeks flushed in an adorable shade of deep red and eyebrows drawn together. His lips red and bitten, parted just slightly to let all those sweet whimpers escape. His eyes are blissfully glazed, the blue oceans wet with tears and shaky. What a sight.

And then he moans again, those cerulean orbs disappear from your vision as his lids drop down. His back lifts off the bedsheets, hands clenching against the soft cotton and you see his head tilting back as orgasm overwhelms him. His hips buck upwards, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as he sprouts his seed, painting the inside of your mouth white. You pump him through it, prolonging the pleasure.

“What a sight,” you purr, licking away any traces of sin from his skin. “All clean. It’s as if nothing happened,” and here is your usual taunt. “Well, I guess your boxers do give it away, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t respond. Heart trashes in Satoru’s chest as he slowly comes down from the intense high he’s experienced, he gasps on air desperately and releases all the tensed muscles. A smile stretches his lips, he huffs at first, and then laughs helplessly, as tears run down his cheekbones.

“You’re gonna leave me here, broken and useless,” he says, as you climb upwards and lean to kiss the salty drops off his face. “Are you happy? I bet you are, demon.”

His tone is odd, it’s both colder than before and softer at the same time. It’s accusing, it’s hopeless. “I can’t say I’m not satisfied,” you tell him and he scoffs, turning his head towards you and you drop onto the bed next to his defeated body. There’s a sin now engraved down to the very morrow of his bones, his chastity stained irrevocably and his soul threatening to shatter. “But I don’t wish to leave you here to your demise.”

“Oh no? What do you wish for then?”

“Besides the obvious desire to fuck you, I’d be content if you stayed with me here, on earth.”

“So vulgar,” he exhales, his body both cringing at the sound and getting excited all over again. “I was not created to fuck.”

“I think I proved my point that you’re perfectly capable of those primitive carnal desires you declined so much.”

Satoru closes his eyes. How did that happen, how could that happen? It must’ve been a cruel joke. He’s an archangel, God’s favorite, he’s the honored one. He was supposed to be above all demonic tricks and seductions, those devilish powers have never reached him for hundreds of years. And now, what is he supposed to do?

“I suppose heaven won’t take me back now,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Maybe if he seeks penance, maybe if he atones for his sins.

“What a shame,” you muse, cupping his cheek in your palm. Your finger trace idle circles into the skin over his cheekbone; it’s a delicate touch and you feel how hot his face is, damp from the tears and flushed. “Heaven lost its most beautiful angel.”

taglist: @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @li7wakwnsekzebby @vanshoe @myahfig4 @suguruscousin @ressyshi @dcvilxswish @erenjvegerrr @crywolfix @wildheart03-blog @elliotsbeigeguitar @mi-mosaa

[yourmomsawh0r3]

First of all i want to THANK YOU for writing for Marcello Hernandez!😩😍

I would like to request a smut for him!! Maybe one where him and reader are co stars or they have been friends for a while (you can decide!) and there has always been alot of sexual tension, constant flirting, ect. And one night they are hanging out and they can’t contain themselves any longer and they fully go at it and admit their feelings!!?? You can make it as dirty as you want (plz) 😜

i love this!! your wish is my command 🫶🏼✨

More than friends

pairing: marcello hernandez x f! reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+

You and Marcello had been friends for what felt like forever. Ever since those early days of struggling to break into the industry, auditioning at every opportunity, and scraping by on whatever you could afford, you’d had each other’s backs. He’d been your partner in crime for late-night rehearsals and spontaneous adventures, laughing his way through awkward moments and celebrating every win, big or small. There was something undeniably special between you, an ease and chemistry that everyone seemed to notice even if you both stubbornly ignored it. Every time he looked at you with that smirk, brushed your hand a bit too long, or made a joke that danced on the line between teasing and flirtation, you’d pretend it didn’t make your heart race.

When the two of you finally landed roles on the same show, it felt like fate had pushed you even closer. Your friendship quickly evolved into constant on-set banter, inside jokes, and long evenings spent running lines over takeout dinners. But lately, things had shifted. Marcello’s looks lingered, his touches felt heavier, and the tension that had always been there was now impossible to ignore. He’d laugh about it, make a playful comment when he caught you staring, but you could tell there was something deeper behind his words.

Tonight, the two of you were decompressing at your place after a long week. Marcello had brought over a bottle of wine, and you’d picked up a pile of wings from your favorite local spot. It was like every other night—yet completely different. From the moment you poured the wine, the unspoken attraction between you simmered under the surface, adding weight to every glance and touch.

After a few glasses, you were both feeling tipsy and a bit bolder, laughing at each other’s jokes louder, leaning a little closer. Marcello’s arm rested along the back of the couch, his fingers lightly grazing your shoulder. You leaned back into him, letting yourself enjoy the warmth of his arm around you, wondering if tonight might finally be the night that all that tension boiled over.

Marcello grinned at you, his eyes dark with something playful, something dangerous. “You know,” he said, voice low, “I think we’re probably the most convincing fake couple on TV. Don’t you think?”

You laughed, brushing off the heat that rose to your cheeks. “Well, maybe it’s because I’m such a good actress.”

“Maybe,” he replied, leaning in until his face was inches from yours, “or maybe it’s because you make it so easy to pretend.” His voice softened, and his gaze lingered on your lips, his words hanging in the air.

The laughter faded as you locked eyes, the space between you shrinking. “Marcello… I think we’ve been pretending for way too long,” you whispered, the truth slipping out before you could stop it.

His hand slid up to cup your face, thumb grazing over your cheek, his touch warm and electric. “What if we stop pretending?” he murmured, his voice rough.

Without waiting for an answer, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and intense, like he’d been holding himself back for years. His other hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him, and you felt every inch of his body pressed against yours. The wine and the years of unspoken feelings blurred everything else as the kiss deepened, turning urgent and needy.

Between breaths, you whispered, “Marcello… we’ve waited long enough.”

That was all it took. He scooped you up, guiding you back toward the couch, his hands exploring as if he were afraid to waste another moment. The heat between you was intoxicating, fueled by the wine and the feeling of finally letting go. His lips traced a path down your neck, his touch igniting every part of you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he pressed you into the couch, both of you lost in the moment you’d been waiting for.

In the early hours of the morning, as you lay tangled in each other’s arms, Marcello ran his fingers through your hair, his face softening with a look you’d never seen before. “I don’t want this to be just tonight,” he whispered, voice still thick with emotion. “I want us… for real.”

A smile spread across your lips, and you reached up, brushing a hand along his jaw. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

As the wine settled warmly between you, the banter that had once felt light-hearted became increasingly intense. You and Marcello were leaning into each other on the couch, laughter giving way to long, heated glances and lingering touches. Your hand rested on his thigh, your fingers tracing small circles there, and his gaze flickered down, darkening.

Without another word, he closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was instantly deep, heated, and overwhelming. His hands were everywhere, moving from your waist to your hips, pulling you into him as you let yourself melt against his body, years of tension breaking free in a moment. His fingers brushed up your back, sending shivers through you as he pulled you onto his lap, his mouth never leaving yours.

Your legs straddled his hips as his hands slipped under your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin with a touch that was both rough and tender. “God, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and filled with need. His mouth moved to your neck, kissing and biting gently, making you gasp as he left a trail of heat along your skin.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head, your hands roaming over the warm skin of his shoulders and chest. You could feel his heartbeat under your fingers, fast and steady as his hands slipped under your own shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion. He paused, taking you in, his eyes filled with admiration and desire that made your cheeks flush.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he murmured, his hands cupping your face before trailing down, fingers grazing your skin, igniting every inch they touched.

You leaned in, capturing his mouth with yours, your kisses growing more feverish as your bodies pressed together. Marcello’s hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly as he leaned you back against the couch, his body settling above you. His hands slid down, hooking into the waistband of your pants, and he looked up, seeking permission in his eyes.

Breathless, you nodded, your heart racing as he slowly tugged them down, his hands exploring every inch of bare skin as he went. The intensity of his gaze made you feel like you were the only person in the world, his touch leaving a trail of heat that made you shiver.

He paused, his eyes raking over you with a hunger that made your pulse quicken. “I don’t think I can hold back anymore,” he admitted, his voice rough.

“Then don’t,” you whispered, your hands pulling him closer, desperate to feel him, to be closer to him than ever before. Marcello’s lips were on you again, moving down your body in a series of slow, lingering kisses. Every brush of his mouth felt deliberate, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

Marcello's touch was electric as his hands glided down your body, fingertips tracing every curve. You trembled with anticipation, aching to feel his mouth on you. Slowly, deliberately, he sank to his knees, his eyes locked with yours, dark with desire.

Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against the delicate skin of your inner thighs, his tongue darting out to taste you. A low groan escaped him, vibrating against your flesh. "You taste so sweet," he murmured, the words sending a shiver through you.

Without warning, his mouth closed over your most sensitive spot, his tongue swirling and lapping, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to you as he worked relentlessly, every stroke of his tongue pulling you closer to the edge.

The noises you made only spurred him on, his enthusiasm matching your own growing need. He hummed against you, the vibrations making your hips buck, chasing the sensation. Marcello's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he licked and sucked, lapping up every drop of your arousal.

"Marcello, please," you gasped, your voice ragged with want. "I need you."

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and hooded. "Not yet," he growled, diving back in, his tongue delving deep, his fingers joining the onslaught of sensation.

You cried out, your body tightening with the approaching wave of ecstasy. Marcello kept up his relentless pace, his touch firm and unyielding, until finally, you shattered, your orgasm washing over you in crashing waves.

Marcello kept his mouth on you, gentling his movements as you came down from your high. Slowly, he pulled away, his lips glistening with your arousal. He gazed up at you, eyes hooded and dark with desire.

"Magnificent," he murmured, his voice low and ragged. He rose to his feet, crowding into your space, his large frame towering over you. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your swollen lips. "I want to savor every inch of you."

His mouth crashed down on yours, the kiss fierce and possessive. You melted into him, clutching at his shoulders as his tongue swept into your mouth. A needy whimper escaped you, and Marcello growled in response, pulling you flush against him.

His hands skimmed down your sides, grip bruising as he palmed your backside, grinding his hips against yours. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your belly, and the knowledge that he wanted you so desperately sent a thrill through you.

Panting, he tore his mouth from yours, dragging his lips along your jaw to nip at your earlobe he moans in your ear.

Marcello's eyes darkened with barely restrained desire as he gazed down at you. With agonizing slowness, he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his throbbing length teasing your slick folds.

"You feel so good, y/n," he breathed, his voice thick with want. Inch by agonizing inch, he pushed forward, stretching and filling you until he was buried to the hilt. A shuddering gasp escaped you at the delicious sensation of being so completely joined.

But just as quickly, he began to withdraw, eliciting a desperate whine from you. "Marc,please..." you begged, hips canting upwards, seeking to keep him inside.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Patience, my love," he purred, the words barely audible as he surged forward again, hilting himself with a sharp snap of his hips.

You cried out, nails digging into his back as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. Marcello set a maddening pace, pulling out until just the tip remained, then driving back in with bruising force.

The bed creaked beneath you, the only sound besides your ragged gasps and his guttural groans. He possessed you completely, claiming every inch of your body as his own. And you welcomed it, reveling in the intoxicating feel of him moving inside you.

"Marcello!" you keened, the coil of pleasure tightening with every thrust. He swallowed your cries with a hungry kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth in time with the snap of his hips marcello cums inside you.

Afterward, as you lay tangled together, breathing in sync, Marcello brushed a strand of hair from your face, his gaze soft and vulnerable. He kissed you gently, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your cheek as he whispered, “I don’t want this to ever end.”

You smiled, pulling him close again, knowing that after all these years, you’d finally found what you’d both been searching for.

[tiannasfanfic]

Conviction

Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)

| Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: Life takes an unexpected turn when a one time fling with your best friend leads to an unplanned pregnancy. Will years of friendship be enough to build a solid marriage off of...or are you destined for heartbreak due to a wandering eye like the town rumor mill predicts?

Rating: Explicit 18+

Author Note: Afab Reader, no pronouns used. Angst with a happy ending.

CW: Town gossip; bullying; unplanned pregnancy (no details); marriage; mentions of cheating; mentions of alcohol use; smut (p in v, fingering, kissing, dirty talk); consensual role play of a non-con situation.

Word Count: 8,332

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore

con·vic·tion - noun: a firmly held belief or opinion.

If you were to ask the people in Hawkins, life for you and Eddie Munson turned out exactly how they expected.

Eddie was branded an outcast while he was a child thanks to his dad. Edward Munson Sr had long been known in Hawkins as a hard-working criminal. Your car was stolen? The cops always checked out Munson’s place first. While no one blamed Eddie for his father’s mistakes, no one really wanted their kids to be around the son of a no-good common criminal either. It honestly surprised no one when Ed was finally put away for a long time due to car theft, which led to his parental rights being transferred to Wayne.

But despite Eddie going into his uncle’s care, the unfair reputation he’d gained during childhood followed along after him. He wasn’t a bad kid, by any means, nor did he get in much trouble. But once the town thinks of someone a certain way, it’s hard for them to break free of that. And, by this point, he’d taken a liking to heavy metal and playing the guitar, which further cemented his outcast status in their minds. Then his interest in fantasy led him to D&D, which led to the rumors of Satan worshiping. He evolved from being seen as just a mere outcast into a full-blown freak by the time he hit high school.

You, on the other hand, managed to fly under the towns radar for quite some time. While the two of you met the year before middle school and became fast friends, people only began to notice how your close friendship was during sophomore year. That’s when a spotlight finally found its way over to you. The rumor mill went absolutely crazy. Even though you weren’t dating Eddie, and this was a known fact, that didn’t really matter to anyone. You got labeled as his and the bullying began almost immediately.

After a while, Eddie tried to save you by severing the friendship, and made a big production of it in the cafeteria, much to your horror. But the damage had already been done. The teasing only got worse when people thought he’d grown tired of you. You weren’t even good enough for the freak, they said. It ended up being a miserable two months for both of you before you finally reconciled your friendship. Fortunately, the whole thing brought you two even closer together afterwards.

After that, the town knew exactly what was going to happen to you two. They predicted Eddie would have you knocked up before senior year and that you’d drop out of school. They seemed split on what would happen after that though. Some said Eddie would run off right away and leave you a single mom. Others said he would stay but would cheat and run off on you later, leaving you a single mom. They were quite surprised when you graduated high school without a baby in tow.

Since people in town didn’t expect Eddie to amount to anything, it surprised no one when he had to repeat his senior year twice. They felt vindicated in their beliefs when it was rumored Eddie was dealing drugs. The murder charges were a bit of a surprise, but nothing actually changed in the way the town thought of him once he was absolved of those. Eddie was still an outcast and a freak, just not one that was wanted for murder.

But that Spring Break led to everything changing between the two of you.

Once his name was in the clear and he had graduated, Eddie’s new group of friends combined with his old ones to throw him a party to celebrate. Everyone was able to cut loose and relax at Steve Harrington’s huge house, so a fun time was had by all. Sometime during the night, feeling both happy and a bit on the horny side, you made a drunken pass at Eddie. His response was favorable, which led to a romp in the back of his van.

It was an impulsive thing, nothing that had been planned or talked about or even thought about beforehand. Neither of you had really spoke about it afterwards, which you took as an unspoken agreement. It was a onetime thing, a moment of physical connection fueled by alcohol and a much-needed reminder that you both made it out of everything alive.

Three weeks later, a little white stick turned blue.

Once the shock wore off after a few days, Eddie became determined to do the right thing. He asked you to marry him. Not knowing what else to do, but knowing he was a good man and you could do much worse, you said yes.

That first eight months of your relationship was a whirlwind. Between planning and executing a small courthouse wedding, getting ready for the baby, and the pregnancy itself, you two didn’t get the opportunity to breathe much less get to enjoy each other’s company and feel each other out as a couple.

Once the baby was born, a baby boy you two named Eddie Wayne, life only got crazier.

Now that the expenses for a baby were added into the budget, money got tight with there only being one income in the house. Childcare was too expensive to justify you working, so Eddie picked up as much extra work as he could, working even longer hours at the garage where he was a mechanic. It was the only way to keep up with bills, but this meant he was away from home even more, sometimes not getting home until well after you and Eddie Wayne were already asleep.

And that was how it quietly went for almost two years. You kept up with everything in the house and the baby, and Eddie brought home the paycheck. It was a routine you both fell into, barely seeing and talking to each other except in passing, even on his rare days off. While you missed your best friend and the friendship you had before, you thought this was just how life went for new parents.

But then the people in town started to notice how often Eddie wasn’t at the house. People saw his van parked up at the garage until all hours. People noticed how you two were rarely seen together anymore.

And so, the rumor mill started up again.

Your relationship was on the rocks, they said. You two had grown apart, they said. You both were too young, they said. It was only a matter of time before this happened, they said.

You did your best to ignore it, like you always did.

But as the months went on though, you noticed the random looks you normally got from strangers became increasingly sympathetic looking. You noticed people whispering around you more. Then, oddly, people actually began approaching you to speak with you. It wasn’t idle chitchat, like you do when you bump into someone, but instead were asking you specific questions about how you were and how life was going. They seemed to be checking in on you with genuine concern, though that was a bit baffling since no one had bothered to care about you before now. You kept the interactions polite but couldn’t help wonder what their ulterior motive was.

It wasn’t long before you finally heard the big rumor that was prompting such a response from people.

Eddie was cheating on you.

They said that’s really why he was up at the garage so late, said it was the only place he could get away with it since you were always home. They said he actually had several girlfriends on the side, and never had to be with the same one twice in one week. And his poor wife, they said. Stuck at home with her head in the sand, blissfully ignorant to her husband’s nightly activities.

It angered you at first. Not what they were saying, but why they were saying it. It struck you as petty and juvenile. You couldn’t help but wonder if they had anything better to do, if their lives were really so dull that they had to focus on yours instead. Despite the way you two ended up together, you doubted Eddie would actually cheat on you. Eddie Munson was many things, but a cheat in any capacity had never been among them. The town was always wrong about him before, and they were definitely wrong about this.

But as the weeks went on, the rumors persisted and you heard them more, it began to gnaw at you. And, once the shred of doubt was planted in your mind, it steadily grew into suspicion and paranoia. You really didn’t want to believe it, but now you had a little voice in your head asking you, what if? It’s not like you were up at the garage to really know what was going on. And why would they be saying it so much if it wasn’t true, if someone hadn’t seen something for sure? The more time that passed, the more it drove you crazy and the more the very idea began to hurt.

You began to really pay attention and notice things after that. Whenever you tried to engage Eddie in conversation, his responses were always short and to the point. He didn’t talk about his day and didn’t really ask about yours except for things relating to Eddie Wayne. While there may have been distance between you two, Eddie never stopped doting on his son.

And the distance was clear now that you really thought about it. There wasn’t even that much affection between you two. He barely touched you and sex was a rarity. Often weeks would pass before one of you would initiate it, and, even then, it seemed halfhearted and tired. It felt more like a routine rather than something either of you really wanted to do. Even the kiss he gave you before leaving every morning was brief and chaste, given without hardly a glance as he did it.

One thing piled up on top of the other in your brain until one afternoon when the gnawing paranoia finally bit down and made you snap to attention. It wasn’t anything big or out of the ordinary that caused it. It was a Saturday afternoon and Eddie called you to let you know he’d be staying at work well past closing. He didn’t give specifics, just that he needed to get some things finished and that you shouldn’t wait up for him.

This kind of thing happened all the time, but you decided you couldn’t take the suspicion any longer. It felt more like you were more roommates than spouses by this point, and it was eating away at you. You had to find out if the rumors were true.

You knew getting into the garage to surprise him wouldn’t be hard. A long time ago, Eddie had proven himself trustworthy enough for the owner to give him his own key to the place, as well as a spare to keep at home. While Eddie always had his key with him, you knew where the spare was since you’ve had to take it up there to Eddie a couple times when he accidentally locked his keys inside the building. With that in hand, you’d have no problem getting in after closing without having to give Eddie a heads up.

But, at the same time, your gut was telling you to be cautious and think this through carefully. A large part of you was still convinced your husband wouldn’t betray you like that. He had been your best friend for years and had never tried to deliberately hurt you before. You didn’t want to just barge in and interrupt your husband at his job with accusations flying when all you had to go on was the town gossip. You wanted to have an actual excuse for going up there if this all turned out to be nothing.

Since Eddie Wayne was a little over 18 months old at this point, Uncle Wayne had been offering to keep him overnight sometime so you and Eddie could have an evening alone together. He was overjoyed when you called to finally take him up on that offer and he picked up his grandson for a sleepover shortly afterwards.

Once your son was off with his grandpa, you got a quick dinner made. It wasn’t anything fancy, just spaghetti with a small splurge of meatballs, but it was something cheap and easy that you and Eddie both loved. You made two lunch containers of it, then stored the rest of the leftovers away in the fridge. You packed up both lunch containers, some silverware, and napkins into a paper sack, and then headed up to the garage where Eddie worked.

On your way there, the nerves started building. You were nauseous with them by the time you pulled into the parking lot. You identified Eddie’s van right away, but as you got out of your car, you realized there was no way to tell if he was alone before you went inside. The parking lot was half full of vehicles, and you had no way of knowing which ones were there to be worked on, or if any of them belonged to a late-night visitor.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to prepare yourself for anything as best you could and let yourself into the front door.

There was no bell overhead to announce your presence as you walked inside, so your arrival was thankfully quiet. It wouldn’t have really mattered had there been a bell though, you could hear music drifting into the reception area from an open door behind the counter that led to the garage area proper. You could hear a song from Megadeth’s latest album drifting into the room.

Following the sound of the music, you stepped through the door out into the garage. You couldn’t see much since most of the bays had a vehicle in it and it was dark The only light you could see was coming from the far end of the building, near the back wall by the office.

You carefully made your way through the semi dark garage, being careful not to trip on any stray hoses or tools. As you got closer to the light and music, you still couldn’t see anything thanks to a few stacks of tires and a large, upright toolbox. But once you stepped around those though, you got a full, unobstructed view of the very last vehicle bay.

And what you saw made you stop in your tracks.

There was a Jeep was parked in that last bay, with its hood up and a light clamped onto it. Eddie was bent over under the hood at an awkward angle, trying not to get in his own light and stretched out as if trying to reach something at the very back. It was really hot here at the back of the garage, so Eddie had the top half of his coveralls down around his waist. He’d also shed the wife beater he normally wore under the coveralls, leaving him completely shirtless. His skin had a heavy sheen of sweat on it, and he was flushed from being under the hot work light. He’d gotten grease and dirt on his back from being under the Jeep, but rather than make him look dirty, the grime seemed to contour and enhance the lean muscle lines of his back.

Your jaw dropped a little, eyes widening.

Eddie stood up then and turned towards a wheeled cart he had next to him at the front of the Jeep, scowling at the wrench he was holding. Oblivious to the fact he was being watched, he started rooting through the various sized sockets on the cart, his brow furrowed slightly as he compared the sizes to the one he had on the wrench originally. The tip of his tongue was slightly poking out from one corner of his mouth, which is how you could tell when Eddie was really concentrating.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took him in from the front.

His hair was pulled back in a chaotic mess of a bun, his black bandana rolled up and wrapped around his forehead to keep sweat out of his eyes. Drops of sweat trailed down Eddie’s chest and stomach and your eyes couldn’t help but follow one as it rolled down the center of his abdomen. The top half of his coveralls were weighing down the bottom half, making them sag a bit in the front. This pulled them down just enough to display the front of his hips, the trim V cut of his lower abdomen on full display and perfectly framing the start of a dark happy trail that disappeared down into his front of pants.

In all of the chaos and stress of life, the turmoil of being new parents and newlyweds simultaneously, and all of the major change’s life had thrown at you two in such a short amount of time…

You had forgotten exactly how fucking gorgeous your husband is.

All you could do was stand there and gawk at him. The reason for your visit not entirely forgotten, but, for the moment, at the very back of your mind. It wouldn’t hurt to keep letting him work so you could admire the view for a little longer.

Eddie finally gave up trying to find the socket he was looking for on the cart and turned towards the upright toolbox. Halfway to it, he finally looked up to see you standing next to it. He screamed in surprise, dropping the wrench and socket he was holding as he jumped backwards. This in turn scared the hell out of you, making you scream and jump in surprise yourself.

Thankfully, you did not drop the food.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, wide eyed and breathing heavy after the jump scare you just gave each other.

And then, quite suddenly and unexpected, the distance you had been feeling between you two disappeared.

You both burst into laughing fits at exactly the same moment. It was that deep, soul cleansing laughter that’s sometimes needed just as much as a good cry. Eddie nearly doubled over, body shaking as he tried to get control of it. You felt your stress and anxiety melt away as tears sprang from your eyes.

As your tension and worry eased, a forgotten memory flashed through your mind from your senior year, which had been Eddie’s first. It was right after Hellfire let out and, since you didn’t have a car at the time, you had hurried to get home before it started raining. Unfortunately, after a brief trip to the restroom, you got outside only to discover it was pouring and everyone, but Eddie had already left. When you went back inside to ask him for a ride, you scared the hell out of each other then laughed about it, much like this.

Presently, Eddie scooped up the wrench he dropped, then went back to the cart to turn off his music. Then he turned to you.

“Jesus Christ, Princess!” he said, his voice filled with humor, and then he dramatically started clutching at his chest. “You could’ve given me a heart attack!”

“I’m so sorry, babe,” you said, giggling at his theatrics as you wiped tears from your eyes. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, I swear.”

His eyes looked down near your feet, then behind you, brow slightly furrowing in confusion.

“Where’s our little man?” he asked, and you realized he was looking for Eddie Wayne’s car seat or stroller.

“With his grandpa for the night,” you smiled at Eddie, then danced a little in place. “I’ve got the whole evening to myself.”

“Yeah?” he smiled at you softly as he finally made his way over to the toolbox, resuming his search for the correct sized socket. “Then what’s a beautiful girl like you doing messing around in a filthy place like this?”

Even now after all these years of knowing Eddie, whenever he was relaxed enough to fall into his old flirtatious demeanor with you, it still made your heart race just as much as it did back in school.

You briefly held up the paper bag you were holding and gave it just enough of a shake to make the silverware inside rattle around.

“I was just stopping by with some food for my amazing husband so we could have dinner together,” you explained, then a playful smile came to your face. “But then when I saw you, I couldn’t help but get distracted and forget my manners.”

You don’t know why you chose that wording in particular. It just popped into your head and seemed like a fun thing to say in light of how he just caught you staring at him like some love-struck teenager.

The irony of it wasn’t lost on you though. Here you were, down at your husband’s work for the sole purpose of seeing if he was cheating on you, but now here you were flirting with him as if he were just some random hot guy you were thirsting after rather than your actual husband.

While this wasn’t like any of the scenarios you had pictured in your head while on the drive over, you weren’t complaining. Scaring each other and the laughter that followed had put you in a relaxed, easygoing state. It was the perfect mood to put you in the mindset to flirt a little heavy handedly with Eddie.

His head lifted a little so he could look up at you, one brow raised in curiosity. He took you in for a moment, as if trying to figure out what your game here was. But then a playful glimmer came to his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a while.

He stood up straight, dropping the wrench he was holding into the open drawer of the toolbox with a clatter.

“Can’t say I was expecting anyone to come by tonight,” he said, dusting his hands off as he looked you over with an intense gaze that made your cheeks flush. “But you’re more than welcome to wait around in the office, see if he turns up. I’ll get washed up, then come keep you company.”

With a wink, Eddie began to head for the sink at in the corner of the garage.

You couldn’t help but blush slightly, then made your way into the office.

The small room was cramped and served as the office and break room. It contained a ratty couch against one wall with a coffee table in front of it, a table against the opposite wall that held a microwave and coffee maker, a desk near the window at the back of the room, and a full-sized refrigerator in the corner. There wasn’t much on the desk aside from extra office supplies but considering what Eddie has said about the owner rarely coming in, that wasn’t surprising.

Forgetting about the flirty banter since you thought that was over with for the night, you started to get dinner laid out for the two of you. You knew it would take Eddie awhile to get his hands and arms scrubbed clean like it always did, and that would give you plenty of time to get everything ready. After warming up the food and finding two sodas in the fridge, you arranged everything on the coffee table so that you two could sit on the couch together while you ate.

Right as you finished setting out the silverware, you heard the office door click shut and the lock twist into place. Smiling, you stood up and turned, your mouth opening in preparation to tease him about how long it always takes him to clean up. Before any words could leave your mouth though, Eddie’s lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

It felt like he was trying to devour you whole, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you before you had the chance to react. You gasped in surprise as his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you tightly to him. Once the surprise wore off though, your response was just as eager, lips moving with his to make the kiss even more intense. Your arms went around his neck, and you pulled him in closer. You softly bit his tongue and Eddie groaned into your mouth, his hips pushing forward against yours. Already you could feel him getting hard in his coveralls.

Since he responded to your choice of words so well, you decided to keep the little game going. You slid your hand up from the back of his neck into his hair and grasped a handful of it. Gently tugging, you used it to pull his head back away from you. He groaned as his lips left yours, letting his head move easily along with the pull.

“I told you I’m a married woman,” you said softly, lips inches from his. “What would my husband think if he were to walk through that door right now?”

It seemed like Eddie was enjoying the game now as much as you were. A tremble went through his body, and one hand slid down from your back to your ass, taking it in a firm hold. He pulled your hips even more firmly against his. Your grip loosened in his hair, and he tilted his head down to look into your eyes.

“Door’s locked up tight, Princess,” he said, his voice low and husky, with a slightly threatening tone woven in. “And no one’s getting through. It’s just you and me now.”

Holding onto you so you wouldn’t trip, Eddie started to walk you backwards. You gave no resistance, letting him lead you until you came to a stop against the edge of the desk. Your bodies were jostled a bit at the impact, your legs inadvertently opening into a wider stance. Eddie claimed the newly empty space by quickly stepping forward to stand between your legs. The firm press of his body against yours made you start to teeter backwards, but his arms squeezed your body tightly to his own, keeping you upright so didn’t fall back onto the desk quite yet.

“Please,” you whimpered, playing up the role of a helpless damsel by letting your head fall back, which only made Eddie bury his face in your neck. “My heart belongs only to him!”

The way you two were standing against the desk put him just at the right angle to grind himself against your entrance. Even through your jeans and his bulky coveralls, you could now feel exactly how much Eddie was liking this little role play with you. His cock was close to rock hard. The feeling of him pressed against you made you bite your lip, and you found yourself suddenly have to swallow a moan as he rolled his hips into yours with purpose. He had caused the seam of your jeans to bear down on your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Your legs jerked a little on either side of Eddie as he did it again, knees quivering as little bursts of electricity traveled through your body from the contact. He was quick to respond, stooping down quickly to pick you up by the backs of your thighs and set you up on the very edge of the desk.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice rumbly and low as the tip of his tongue flicked out over the skin on the side of your neck as if he were tasting you. “If it’s only your heart that belongs to him, then your body is all mine for the taking.”

Eddie grazed his teeth on your neck, making you gasp and grip your fingers into his hair again. Falling further into the role, you slipped your other hand between your bodies to rest your palm flat against his chest in a playful attempt to push him away. At this point, Eddie had a firm grip on you and was steadily rocking his hips into yours, grinding his hardness into you over your clothes.

You tried again to push him away again, this time adding just a little bit more force into it. As you did that, your fingers tightened down again in his hair, attempting to pull his head away from you like before.

This time, Eddie wasn’t having it.

He pulled away from you of his own accord, but only just enough that he could grab ahold of your wrists, one in each hand. Keeping a tight hold on you, he then threw you backwards onto the desk, holding your hands above your head as he leaned down over you. You cried out in surprise as you landed. With your ass now hanging halfway off the edge of the desk, the sudden movement of your body caused your legs to lift as your body rocked backwards. You took advantage of this by hooking them around Eddie’s hips, trapping him against you as much as you were trapped against him. He grinned down at you, and you bit your lip to keep from grinning back.

After shifting your wrists so he could hold them in one hand, Eddie ran the tips of fingers all the way down your arm until he reached your chest. He softly squeezed one of your tits, playing with it for a moment, before continuing further down between your bodies, not stopping until he reached the front of your pants. Keeping eye contact with you, he slowly started working the buttons of your jeans open one handed.

“That’s it now, be a good girl and just lay back for me,” he cooed down at you, the tone of his voice almost sinful the way it turned you on. “Lay back and I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.”

As the last button on your jeans came open, you felt his hand slide into the opening of the denim, fingers caressing the fabric of your underwear.

You let your eyes drift open more, looking up at him and finally taking in his full expression. Eddie’s face was a mask of lust, his dilated eyes intent as he gazed down at you.

You could tell he was close to letting go. That fact alone was enough to make you even more excited. Your sex life with Eddie had never really been that wild, if you were being honest. There hadn’t been too many times that he had really let go of himself while being intimate with you. The first time in his van, the first time after giving birth once you’d healed, and a couple of random times after Eddie had gone out for a few drinks with the guys. You enjoyed the hell out of it every single time and only wished it happened more often.

This was definitely an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.

Jutting your chin out, you lifted your head up in a prideful way as you playfully glared into his eyes.

“Do what you will to me,” you said with a defiant tone. “But the only name I’ll be screaming tonight is Eddie’s.”

The grin that spread across Eddie’s face at that made your heart nearly stop.

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, then leaned down so his lips were just an inch from yours. “I’m fully counting on that.”

You weren’t given the chance to reply.

Eddie brought his lips down on yours, the kiss every bit as deep and intense as before. There was no pause this time before you were returning it, your mouth eagerly opening for his. You captured his bottom lip in your teeth, not biting hard enough to draw blood but more to make sure you had his full attention.

But you didn’t have to worry about that. As your teeth were sinking into Eddie’s lip, two of his fingers were slipping past your underwear to pull them aside. His grunt at the feeling of your bite was met by a soft moan from you as he ran his fingers through your folds and began teasing your entrance.

“Always so wet for me,” he muttered against your lips, sounding more like he was talking to himself.

Any reply to you could have given would’ve been lost on your tongue as Eddie slid his middle finger into you. It met no resistance, your wetness easily letting him slide in up to the third knuckle. Since you were already so worked up, he didn’t have to build up to it before starting to finger you at a steady pace. Your eyes closed as you moaned, head tilting back to give him access once again to your neck. He eagerly took advantage of this, his lips coming down to start kissing and sucking on the exposed skin. You could tell just from the pressure that he was deliberately marking you up.

Then, as he licked across the front of your throat to start making his way to the other side of your neck, he stopped the motions of his hand for just a second in order to sink a second finger into you.

You gasped, moaning loudly as your legs tightened around him to hold yourself in that position. He moved his fingers at the same steady pace, his lips sucking at this side of your neck now to leave marks that would match the ones now on the other side.

Being with Eddie as infrequently as you were made it was easy to forget just how good in bed he was. Even the halfhearted and tired sex that was the normal with him was far better than anyone else you’d been with. It wasn’t until this very moment as he curled his fingers inside you that you realized just how pent up you’d been. Getting yourself off for the last few weeks hadn’t cut it as much as you’d thought.

Thanks to the slow pace he had to keep due to the confines of your jeans, the heel of his hand was rubbing against your clit with every inward thrust of his fingers. It didn’t take long before your orgasm built, and you were about to crest its edge.

Right when your inner walls started to tighten around his fingers, Eddie ripped his hand out of your jeans and pulled himself completely away from you. You gasped, clenching around nothing, and aching from the denied orgasm.

“E-Eddie, please,” you gasped, near tears as your body lay trembling on the desk.

“M’sorry, I need you,” he panted, taking ahold of the waist band of your jeans. “Need to feel you clenching around me. Been way too long.”

Eddie quickly pulled your pants and underwear down your legs at the same time. Your shoes slipped off easily when he pulled them off, and the entire bundle was quickly discarded to the office floor. He stepped forward to stand between your legs again, his warm hands caressing your now bare thighs.

A soft sigh left your lips as he touched you, then you watched as he took one hand away to start working himself free of the coveralls. Eddie ended up struggling with them for a moment, having to really work to get one more button undone before he was finally able to push them down past his ass. You leaned up a bit on your forearms, watching as his boxers went next and his hard cock sprang free to lay along your slit.

You couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling, still sensitive from being so close to orgasm. He gave two slow rolls of his hips, dragging the length of his cock across your clit and electing a high-pitched cry from you. Eddie grasped the base of his cock then and tapped the leaking tip on your clit, making you jump slightly, before he slowly began dragging the head through your wet folds. You whimpered, your hips arching up off the desk towards him. He pushed you back down with one hand while he lined himself up with the other. With a slow, firm movement of his hips, Eddie’s hard length began to slide into your cunt.

A loud cry of pleasure left you as your head thumped back on the desk. Since he took his time, you could feel every inch of him. He paused halfway, shifting his stance, and lifting one of your legs higher around his torso before pushing in the rest of the way. You both groaned deeply at the feeling of him bottoming out. It had indeed been too long, your body had to adjust to him again. Luckily, it only took a moment, and as soon as Eddie felt you begin to relax, he began to move.

He started out with slow, but deep, thrusts, dragging his cock through your throbbing heat. You moaned, panting as you clutched at the opposite edge of the desk just above your head. Forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, you watched him as he stared open mouthed at where your bodies met, transfixed by the sight of his cock disappearing into your cunt.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he moaned suddenly, a shudder going through his body as he spoke. “S-so fucking hot. H-How’d I get so lucky?”

Eddie paused briefly to shift his stance and to move your leg up higher, over his shoulder even. Gripping your hips with both hands, he began thrusting with renewed purpose. This new angle had his cock hitting even deeper than before. You gasped as the head rubbed against your most sensitive places, including that one rough, spongy area that always made your toes curl.

“Fuck, God, Eddie, right there!” you screamed, already at the edge again. “I-I’m gonna cum!”

Not stopping this time, Eddie’s thrusting became faster, more frantic. One hand moved from your hip to slide between you, and he started rubbing circles around your clit with his thumb. You moaned a string of curses, feeling yourself starting to clench around his cock.

“J-Jesus, that’s it,” Eddie panted, leaning over so he had one hand resting flat on the desk next to your head, the other rubbing your clit faster. “Fuck! Cum for me, squeeze my cock with that tight cunt of yours.”

That was all it took to send you careening over the edge. You threw your head back and screamed as your orgasm washed over you, your cunt clamping down around him just as he wanted. Eddie wasn’t far behind, his thrusting growing erratic before he was cussing and groaning your name. With how sensitive you were, you swore you could feel his cock pulsing, then spurting as he came, painting your insides with his full load.

Eddie tried to fuck you both through your orgasms, but he had gotten too sensitive. It really had been too long. After a soft gasp that sounded close to a yelp, his motions stilled. Still buried deep inside you, his body trembled just as much as yours did as you both came down from your highs.

Once he had caught his breath, he moved to gently lower your leg from his shoulder to around his waist but stayed inside you. Leaning over, he bent down to you, one hand softly cupping the side of your face as he kissed you. The kiss was warm, tender; a loving contrast to the primal fucking that just occurred. He kissed you a few more times before sliding out of you and helping you up.

You both were giggling as you got dressed, grinning like idiots at each other and blushing. It was as if you were kids again and had just gotten away with doing something very bad. Which, technically, you did, you supposed. After all, having sex on the boss’s desk probably wasn’t looked highly upon, no matter the circumstances.

With appetites worked up, you both finally dug into dinner, with Eddie dramatically moaning in pleasure at the first few bites before you fell into an easy conversation. Eddie asked what you and Eddie Wayne got up to that day. You told him all about everything your son did, then he surprised you by asking specifically how your day was. He surprised you again when you asked Eddie about his day, and he actually started talking about it. That was a first. You had to ask a few questions here and there when he used a term you didn’t understand, but it was all pretty interesting.

Suddenly, in the middle of a story, Eddie broke himself off and smiled sheepishly at you.

“Sorry, Princess,” he said, looking like he was afraid you might be annoyed. “I know you don’t understand most of this. That’s why I try not to talk much about work.”

You blinked a few times in surprise, then shook your head.

“No, Eddie,” you said, looking at him warmly. “I love hearing about your day. If I don’t get something, I’ll ask about it if I’m curious enough.”

Relief came over Eddie’s features and he leaned over to give you a soft kiss.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence then as you ate. But that gave your brain the opportunity to go back to the original reason for your visit. Once it was back at the forefront of your mind, it began to gnaw at you once again, even in your post sex bliss.

Knowing this wouldn’t go away on its own, you decided it was time to just address it directly. The town could say what they wanted and didn’t need to know your business, but the air needed to be clear between the two of you, at least.

“So, I’ve been hearing a new rumor about you around town,” you said, keeping the tone of your voice playful, just like any other time you’ve filled him in on the latest gossip about yourselves. “And it’s a really juicy one this time, too.”

“Yeah?” he said, quirking a brow at you as he chewed a bite of food. “Do tell.”

You felt your nerves come up but didn’t let it show. Instead, you looked around conspiratorially and leaned closer to Eddie. Playing along, Eddie leaned closer to you too, tilting his ear towards you to listen. You cupped his ear with one hand, as if trying to keep a secret

“Word around the campfire,” you whispered, pausing for dramatic effect. “Is that you’re fucking around on me.”

Eddie snort laughed so hard he ended up choking on his own spit. As he lapsed into a coughing fit and you pounded him on the back, you couldn’t help but feel relieved already just based on his reaction.

“Those old bats, I swear,” he finally said, gasping for air as he wiped the tears from coughing off his cheeks. “I don’t have the energy to see you nearly as much as I’d like, much less the time to work in a side piece.” He paused to take a bite and continued on as he chewed. “When do they think I have the time? When I’m able to sleep? No thanks. I like what little sleep I do get.”

It was so casual the way Eddie spoke, not even thinking about what he was saying. There was no filter behind those words, nothing but the straight, stream of conscious Thoughts by Eddie. And so, it hit you straight in the heart, making it skip around a few times.

“That’s a very good point,” you said, unable to stop yourself from chuckling at yourself for even entertaining the idea seriously.

Eddie chuckled, then looked over at you with a grin.

“They say the same thing about you, you know,” he said, then took another bite as he watched for your reaction.

Now it was your turn to choke, though you choked on your food, and Eddie pounded you on the back until you got through it.

“For real?” you asked once the coughing fit was over. “When did those start?”

“Not too long after the wedding,” he replied, grabbing your soda to hand it to you. “Apparently, you’ve been fucking anyone they see come around the house, including the mailman, since day one.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. That was a new one on you. It certainly explained some of the flat glares and head shakes you’d occasionally gotten since you two got married. You never paid much attention to them when it happened, thinking it was about something stupid.

As it turns out, you were right.

“As if I’d really cheat on the guy I’ve been crushing on since the sixth grade,” you scoffed, then took a drink of your soda. “There would be no sense in it. Besides that, pretty much like you said, when would I have the ti-“

“Wait, what?”

You looked over at Eddie to find him staring at you with a shocked expression and his fork halfway to his mouth.

“What?” you asked, not sure what he was asking about.

Eddie tossed the fork into his bowl, set it on the table and turned to you.

“We’ve been married for,” he said, then stopped to think for a moment. “Just over two years now and this is the first I’m hearing about you having a crush on me?”

You blinked at him in surprise, your eyebrows going up.

“I didn’t figure it mattered once we were married,” you said, shrugging. “We’re together now, so I didn’t think it needed to be said.”

The expression of shock on Eddie’s face would’ve been funny had you not known it was completely genuine.

“Princess, that would’ve been really helpful to know a long time ago,” he said, the tone of his voice incredulous and slightly shaky. “I’ve spent these past two years worried about if I really made you happy. I honestly keep wondering if you really want to be with me, or if you only agreed to marrying me because you didn’t want the stigma of being a single mom on top of being the town freak’s whore.”

There was no trace of cruelty in his voice since Eddie wasn’t calling you that name to be mean. That was something people started calling you near the end of junior year. By senior year, it had stuck, and you got called it every day until graduation. Some of the old bullies still liked to shout it at you when they saw you out. It was part of the reason why you didn’t like to leave the house most days unless you absolutely had to for errands.

“Admittedly, that thought did cross my mind,” you said, then sat your own bowl on the table to turn to him. “But I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t really want to marry you, baby or no. If you were the type of man that would’ve made me miserable, I’d still be at my parents’ house.”

The smile that came to Eddie’s face then could’ve lit up the entire garage. One of his hands came up to softly stroke the side of your face as he gazed at you fondly.

“And I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t truly want to,” he said. “Baby or no.”

You moved one hand to rest it on his leg, giving it a soft squeeze, as he leaned in to kiss you.

As the kiss gradually started to ramp up from loving to more intense, Eddie pulled away slightly, looking at you with a worried expression.

“Does this mean I can touch you more?” he asked, sounding unsure of himself suddenly as he started to ramble. “I thought you didn’t really want me to, so I never do, but, god, it’s all I’ve wanted to do since ninth grade, and I want to so much it drives me fucking crazy sometimes.”

Your cheeks blushed a bright pink at Eddie’s admission. It was a good feeling knowing he desired you as much as you did him, and your heart soared knowing he felt as deeply for you too. This hadn’t been a marriage of convenience for either of you, after all.

Taking his face in both of your hands, you pulled him in for a soft kiss, pulling back at the end to gaze into his eyes.

“Baby, you’ve always been able touch me,” you said softly. “Whenever you want and in whatever way you want.”

A grin spread across Eddie’s face, the glint you saw out in the garage coming back to his eyes. His hands found their way up to your shoulders and he pushed you onto your back on the couch. Climbing on top of you less than a second later, he laid himself between your legs, his lips finding their way to yours once again.

Like always, the town rumors about Eddie had turned out to be nothing more than falsehoods thanks to bored rumor mongering. There was absolutely nothing wrong with your marriage apart from the fact neither of you had properly communicating your needs and desires. And that was something both of you recognized now. The two of you made a vow to each other that very night, right there on his boss’s couch, promising to be more open with your feelings and thoughts.

And, as it turns out, you were given the opportunity to put those newfound communication skills to the test soon enough. When you left the garage that night, you left with more than just hearts in your eyes and very sore legs.

Just over three weeks later, another little white stick turned blue.

Oh, how the rumor mill had a field day with that one.

[redheadspark]

can I get Druig with "how can you be this cheery already? we haven't even had breakfast." and "you won't stop this until i say 'yes', will you?" 🥺

A/N - YAS FOR THIS! I would love to write this, thanks for the request, dear friend!

Ray

Summary - Who knew the mind-controlling Eternal was a ball of sunshine in the morning

Warnings - just some fluff :)

Humming was the first thing you heard when you were slowly waking up, much to your dismay.

Grumbling, you threw the thin sheet over your head to try and block out some of the sun that was about to pour into your little shack.  The softer sounds of the trees high above rustling in the morning wind was the next thing you heard, a shiver going through your body as the humming was continuing.  You huffed, knowing now that there was no way you were going to be sleeping again as the bed was now shifting.  A pair of gentle yet calloused hands touched the top of your head and massaging your scalp as you wiggled under the sheet.

“Mornin’, my love,”

His deep tremor of a voice was enough to have you open your eyes, seeing through the thing sheet a silhouette of a body.

“How are you already awake this early?” You said in a mumble under the sheets as the fingers in your hair never stopped moving slowly, “It’s the weekend.  We don’t have chores today.”

“Still a good day to wake early and enjoy,” he replied as you huffed, pushing the sheets down and scowling up at your husband of 400 years.  Druig, perched over you on the bed with his tossed hair shining in the sun and his piercing blue eyes looking like sapphires orbs looking down at you.  He was sporting a thin shirt and running pants, a thin sheet of sweat already evident on his face as he grinned widely at you.

“You went running?” You asked as a yawn as he nodded.

“Earlier this morning, since I know you’d rather sleep all day than enjoy the first rays of the morning,” He teased, you rolling your eyes.

“How can you be this cheery already?  We haven’t even had breakfast yet,” You stated as he shrugged.

“It’s a nice day, and I find it a blessin’.” He replied, then leaning down a bit to graze his nose with yours with affection.  You could breathe in the soil that was under his nails from working out in your little vegetable garden the night before, the sweat he got from his rain, and something that was simply Druig, “The blessin’ of our village, the blessin’ of breathing in the fresh air of the jungle, and the greatest blessin’ of bein’ married to ya,”

500 years together in the Amazon was nothing short of heavenly for you and Druig.  Getting there was such a harsh and difficult decision, simply because you two left your Eternals family behind.  Druig went through so much turmoil and pain that night, knowing he was not able to help stop the genocide that was unfolding in front of all of you.  As his wife, you stood by him and never swayed in that choice when he decided to go off on his own and branch out away from all you two knew.  You too were heartbroken, not knowing when you were going to see the others again.  It’s been 500 years of raising a village and being away from the rest of the world that seemed to evolve and grow.  

Ajak told you one last thing before you followed behind Druig.  You looked up to her as a mother, seeing the sense of comfort in her eyes as she gave you one last time.

“Take care of him and his heart,”

So you did.

Being married to the mind controller was nothing short of adventurous.  You two knew each other far too well, from the mannerisms to routine.  He loved sweets and you loved spice. You preferred simple affection in public whereas Druig saved his affection for the bedroom.  You loved to sleep in and take your time in the morning, whereas Druig loved to rise early with chores on his mind and take care of the village before the sun would even rise.  

It was a role reversal, you being the grumpy ball of sleep and Druig being the early-rising ray of sunshine.

“Druig…it’s too early,” You said as he was peppering you with kisses and laughing as he was.  It was one of the tactics that he would use to get you out of bed.

“Will you join me for breakfast?” He asked against your cheek.  You said nothing, attempting to ignore him as he then went for the next tactic on his list.  His fingers moved to go to your sides, tickling you and making you shriek in laughter as you writhed and wiggled in bed.  Druig never stopped, keeping his fingers along your skin as you were laughing and crying at the same time.  Druig never thought of anything more beautiful than you laughing on the bed, hair flying everywhere along your face and skin, the sun shining down on your dark hair to have it almost shimmer.  To him, you were everything and more that he would ever want and cherish in this life.  

“You won’t stop this until I say ‘yes’, will you?” You asked in a breath as he shook his head.  Finally, knowing that this was a battle you weren’t going to win, relent and sighed, “Fine.  Fine, I said!  Let me get dressed first!”

“Good!” He replied, his fingers retreating as you finally caught your breath again and he leaned back to have you sit up in the bed, “Although next time we can eat breakfast in bed since you covet this bed more than me,”

“..you’re not wrong,” You teased, then being silenced with Druig’s lips on yours.  You could take his sunshine attitude every day if you could, knowing that it would lift you up and push away the grumpiness that was deep inside of you.  No matter how much you hated mornings, you would take Druig waking you up with kisses and sunshine every day if you could.  His affection was shown in his smile, in his words, and in all he did around him and for you.  

You’d happily take 500 more years of Druig’s happiness over anything on this planet.  

The End

Grumpy Vs. Sunshine Prompt Session

[meanbossart]

Hi!! I don't know if this has been asked before, but I was curious about the DU Drow's relationship with our dear little wretch Sceleritas Fel! What's their dynamic like? Btw love love love your Drow. You made him so freaky and fun, I should not but by god I want to chew on that man

THANK YOU SO MUCH! Oh boy, I love Sceleritas Fel a lot and I feel like they had a pretty in depth relationship.

The way I wrote DU drow's backstory involves him being almost solely in Sceleritas company for a couple of years. I really took the line "You always needed a lot of assistance" that you get from him to heart - Sceleritas didn't just serve idly, he was a grim cheerleader and sponsor who, for whatever reason (I guess just inherit nature - this is his whole life's purpose after all) would have always been eager to see DU drow succeed. After He killed his matron and Sceleritas finally appeared, he became a near-constant companion in leading him out of the Underdark and through the surface, save for seldom times where he was just gone for a little while, but never for longer than a couple of days.

As a pre-adolescent and through young adulthood (And eventual bhaal...hood) I picture their relationship evolving pretty drastically. child/pre-teen DU drow was a badly socialized feral child with very little grasp on reality, I think he assumed Sceleritas was some sort of figment of his imagination for a very long time - but followed his instructions nonetheless as he had no other direction in life. He was near-mute and seemingly lacking cognitive capabilities/self preservation instincts, so when Sceleritas said go, he'd go. When the butler would point at something he could kill and eat, he would try (and at the start, usually fail) when Sceleritas told him to seek shelter from the elements or danger, he would do it. When he came into contact with people who seemed to have his best interest in mind (concerned travelers and the odd kindly city person whenever he happened to be passing through a town) and Sceleritas told him not to trust them, to take whatever advantage he could from the situation and, often, kill them, he'd do just that. It was almost as if Sceleritas was the master and he was the thrall.

As he grew a little older (15 and on) and his skills in survival and cunning had been honed, as well as him growing a little more talkative, the dynamic would begin to flip; not only that, but DU drow would slowly grow more and more frustrated and skeptical of Sceleritas promises that he was leading him to his supposed destiny, and would try to press him for what that even entailed - Sceleritas would never fold or tell him anything (he didn't want to ruin the suprise!) and instead just reassured DU drow that if he could just outlast his circumstances for a little longer, that he would eventually be greatly rewarded - that he just needed to prove himself first.

This is also around the time where DU Drow first killed him in what was probably a fit of anger and frustration; a decision he immediately regretted and panicked about, since he was so reliant on his guidance and Sceleritas was essentially the only reason he had to keep on living - but when the butler just popped back up after a few days later (he figured it would be good to scare him a little bit!) and DU drow realized he was immortal, it became a habit to take his frustrations out on him.

After a while of finally joining the temple and learning of his status as Bhaal's progeny, DU Drow would completely grow into the role of Sceleritas superior and master. He was tyrannous and demeaning and Sceleritas loved it, of course. He was still very attached to his assistance, but now it mostly applied to trivial things and everyday necessities; fetching and sending off mail, arranging his meals and meetings, keeping track of his schedule, cleaning and organizing his space, every so often playing little pranks on the other bhaalists and Orin, and, of course, aiding with DU drow's constant bouts of violence and cruelty, as well as every so often listening as he vented his frustrations at him. He took Sceleritas everywhere - DU drow most definitely didn't need him anymore, he simply wanted him around (to the despair of most people).

Sceleritas would also... Gently criticize him for some of his choices, specially DU drow's masochistic penchant and his obsession with Orin - which was usually met with a swift demise at DU drow's hands for daring to question him. Simultaneously, he would enable the same habits by complying with DU drow's orders of arranging for his wounds to be cared for or keeping close track of Orin's schedule, conversations and habits for him when requested.

If we're talking main campaign, tadpoled DU drow was understandably surprised by the visits he received from this tiny dapper gremlin LOL but he very quickly fell into his flattery like second-nature. It was only around Act 2 where he began to turn on Sceleritas for trying to order him around (telling him he should kill Isobel) and obviously for setting him up to kill Astarion, seeing the butler as an enemy and traitor from that point forward even though he would remain inexplicably fond of the little guy throughout.

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. self ship coded. wc 1.1k. cw: reader is referred to as "little snow angel" and is wearing high heeled boots. divider thanks to @/cafekitsune!

You are sixteen years old the first time Gojo uses your warmth for his own comfort.

He presses his cold fingertips against your sun warmed cheek on an early spring day and you squeak, furrowing your brows and pouting while the two of you walk down an empty Tokyo street. It’s midday and you were paired up for a mission that was completed as quickly as it started, now walking side by side and enjoying a light lunch of whatever you wanted to grab from the convenience store while returning to the train station.

“Why did you do that?” You lament, chewing the mouthful of onigiri you managed to bite off before he cruelly interrupted you with the icicles he calls fingers. You shiver exaggeratedly and he sticks his tongue out and laughs, shrugging. 

“Dunno. You looked like the warmest thing around.”

The compliment makes your cheeks further warm and he feels it. He’s seventeen and awkward, as inexperienced in matters of the heart as you are but he understands that despite his tendency to touch and need for physical affection, he wouldn’t be able to do this with anybody else. Your patience with his antics is a very small part of why he finds himself so drawn to you and it’s only a tiny piece of the puzzle of his feelings.

Years later, and after many additional pieces have been added to said puzzle of his feelings, he’s still seeking out your warmth. 

Namely today when the air is so cold each of your puffs of breath leave you with dramatic wisps, curling through the air like hot tea you wish were in your hand warming your bones. Instead your hands are buried deep in your pockets, your legs carrying you as quickly as they can into the warmth of the apartment you moved into around a year ago - Satoru’s. Well, yours too, technically, considering you receive mail addressed to both of you but you still call it his apartment. Maybe someday you’ll get used to the fact that you two share a life together and not just pieces of a puzzle still in progress.

You are 26 years old, a virtual lifetime removed from the girl you were a decade ago, a dedicated teacher at the school you attended through your teenage years. In fact, you’re headed home from there now, the chunky stacked heel of your winter boots clacking against the cold sidewalk below them with every step you take toward the building your high rise is situated in. It’s so close yet so far away and you whine quietly, hoping he remembered to turn on the kotatsu like you asked.

Out of the pair of you, you’ve always been the hot one.

In the early days of your relationship, you realized that you and Satoru both worked better when each of you maintained defined roles. You are the serious one (sometimes), he is the joker (always). He’s the cool light of the winter moon, you’re the warm first day of spring sun. He’s the protector, you’re the protected despite your protests against this status and his insistence upon its importance. These roles have evolved over time as you’ve come into your own and he has done the same, your relationship as fluid as each of you are, but there is one thing that is always true. You run warm and he runs ice cold.

Already beneath the kotatsu upstairs, he’s in the apartment impatiently awaiting your arrival, shoving his hands and feet beneath the most ingenious invention mankind has ever dreamed up. It isn’t as hot as it should be, he forgot to turn it on when you asked and managed to remember about ten minutes ago, but it’s warming up enough that he can get the slightest bit of relief. 

Off on a mission without you, he spent the whole day freezing inside of his oversized black jacket. Even three layers beneath it couldn’t keep the chill from seeping through and luckily he made it home hours before you, the danger eradicated as quickly as he could manage. Since returning home he has taken a shower with water so hot it bordered on scalding, thrown his softest and warmest sweater over his head, and moped around knowing he is missing out on the thing that keeps him the coziest.

“I’m home!”

His ears perk up as soon as he hears your voice, withdrawing himself from beneath the warmth of the kotatsu. 

“Oh thank god!” 

Shouting his response and scrambling to stand up, he makes it there finally and jogs across the apartment in socked feet. You grin seeing him, grateful he made it home in one piece even if it was hours before you, and you pull your boots off with an unenthusiastic grunt. He rushes to scoop you up and hold your body against his. He’s shocked when he feels how cold you are and he coos sadly, pressing his warm fingers against your cold face.

“Poor thing,” he mutters and you giggle with a shake of your head. Gojo helps you out of your coat and you sigh contentedly, letting him work each of the sleeves off of you and then go to work unraveling the scarf tied around your neck and throat. “If you’re cold it must be very cold.”

Another nod. You struggle to speak, your smile frozen on your face, because you’ve realized yet again that the roles in your relationship have evolved. He’s the warmth you’ve come home to, hands and arms and chest thawing out the frost that has developed over you throughout the day. 

“I’m just glad to be home.”

Patting your face gently, warm fingers replacing the cold ones of that decade old memory, you lean into his touch and he pinches the round of your cheek between his index and forefinger as he often does. You giggle and grin and without any additional thought, dive face first into his chest and the smell of your laundry detergent and the beating heart beneath it all. Whatever winter chill remains is slowly melting away with each breath you take and each of his you listen to. 

“Come on.”  Satoru wraps you up and holds you against him, letting you walk on top of his feet back to the main living area. This is also something the two of you do often because he cannot physically handle being away from you long enough for you to guide yourself. “Let’s go warm you up, my little snow angel.”

Rolling your eyes at the brand new nickname he’s come up with (something else that is a daily occurrence you’ve learned to love over the last ten years), you smile to show him the gesture is nothing short of joking. He lets his hands fall around the waistband of your pants and slips one of them beneath your shirt, a yelp leaving you when the cold appendages wrap around your hip.

“Satoru!” You squeak and he chuckles, humming a little song to himself as he does every time he hears you say his name in that tone of voice. “What did you do that for?”

“I wanted to.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead with exaggerated smacks of his lips against your still cool skin.

You’ve heard it a million times - to be loved is to be changed - and you never considered that a change as small as hot and cold would fill your heart as full as it is right now. Even the cold fingers resting beneath your blouse can be forgiven when he leans down to envelop your lips in a kiss, chasing the winter blues so far away they’re all but long gone.

[amerricanartwork]

Hi! I just wondered if you've played Hollow Knight based off how much you like Rain World. I'd be interested in any thoughts you had on it. :)

Thanks for the ask! No, I have not yet played Hollow Knight, BUT my interest in the game has been piqued! However I still have to see if the gameplay itself seems up my alley, or get invested enough in the characters that I want to discover more than I've already found out (and I have spoiled quite a lot for myself) before I actually decide to buy the game.

Regardless, from what I do know it does seem like an interesting story, albeit one far more tragic than Rain World's in my opinion. The characters I've seen are also pretty cool, both in design and personality. In fact, it was some ship fanart I found a few weeks ago that got me interested in diving deeper into the game once I realized it was where the featured characters were from, especially since one of the characters I had remembered hearing about before.

Here's a little sketch of some characters I was thinking about and whom I've been meaning to draw for a bit! Hornet because she's very Shaped™, Quirrel because from what I've seen he's quite wholesome, and Tiso because he was the first character I heard about and I think he's kinda silly!

Also, some more comparing/contrasting thoughts about the game below:

Firstly, I like how the premise of Kollow Knight involves anthropomorphic insects! It's something I never realized until recently despite being aware of HK for at least a few years, but I usually tend to take interest in stories starring non-humanoid creatures, so it's a plus! I also enjoy the more gothic/Victorian-looking magical high fantasy aesthetic, though it's pretty different from Rain World, which I'd consider far more sci-fi and specbio-esque in its aesthetic.

Now to get into themes, so far Hollow Knight seems to share Rain World's theme of lost/dead civilizations, which is also a very interesting premise to me! However, HK seems to have a greater focus on interacting with the people of its dying civilization and as such you get far more definitive knowledge about what happened to cause it to collapse. The player character seems to take on more of a classic epic hero role, because from what I've heard about the lore and endings, they end up directly influencing the fate of Hallownest, even potentially destroying or defeating the force that caused its ruin. The visuals have this very dark, cool tint overall to sell that gloomy, mournful vibe, and the structures, while presumably old, are still mostly smooth, ornate, and not super deteriorated, with these castle or manor-like appearances more similar to real-life buildings or things in other high fantasy works. Then, the orchestral music I've heard alongside all of these elements really creates this impression in me that it's aesthetic and overall concept is more akin to a high fantasy epic tale, albeit a rather tragic one.

Meanwhile, Rain World seem to have the player take more of an anthropologist role, observing and trying to piece together the story of vast remnants of its dead civilization, which seem alien and impossibly complex because so much of the history they're from has been lost to time. One of the core themes is being very small compared to these long abandoned structures, to really sell the idea that this history is so much older and more intricate than you'll ever know. The colors of Rain World are often warmer, which can be associated with old things, and the structures are far more weathered and broken down, with the only living survivors of the people who made them being the iterators, whom we only get to hear directly from two of. Combined with the focus on simulating an ecosystem, the more directly religious ideas within, the themes of natural cycles and an entire civilization evolving, changing, and ultimately disappearing over deep time, and the overall alien, sci-fi industrial designs of the architexture and strange creature designs that look like things out of "Of Rust and Humus" or some other alien speculative biology worldbuilding project make RW fit well in with that genre of fiction in my opinion.

Sorry if I seem like I kinda took a sudden shift there, but I wanted to talk about this contrast in artistic aesthetics and story genres for a moment because the "lasting impression" an art piece creates something I've recently concluded is pretty important overall in works of art, at least for mine!

But anyway, I hope these thoughts were satisfying for now! Thanks again for the ask!

[erisweekofficial]

SURPRISE! 🔥❤️‍🔥

We are SO excited to have chatted with Matthew Bassett, the voice actor for Eris Vanserra in the Graphic Audio Production of the ACOTAR series.

Read below for an Exclusive Q&A with Matt ❤️

How long have you been voice acting? How did you get started in the voice acting industry?

I’ve only really worked with Graphic Audio for voice acting, and I’ve been in their roster of actors since 2012. I’ve been a stage actor (with a tiny bit of film) since 2003, and I’ve taught acting in the Washington, DC, area since 2012. When I moved to the DC area after graduate school and started working around here, a number of actors I liked and admired kept mentioning this company that provided steady work on fun material - westerns, fantasy, sci-fi. The comic book adaptations sold me, I’m a huge comics fan. Since 2012, I’ve played countless varmints, monsters, cads, aliens, superheroes/villains, and the occasional good guy. Along with Eris, my larger roles have included voicing The Homelander in all six volumes of GA’s adaption of The Boys graphic novels and Cullen in the World of Lupi series.

Can you describe the process for being selected for the role of Eris (or any other character)? Were there auditions, callbacks, or specific criteria that led to your casting?

Graphic Audio works like a repertory acting company, in that after your initial audition, they maintain your contact information for project directors to pull from when needed. I’ve done a lot of work with Colleen Delaney, director of the ACOTAR adaptations, including several longer character arcs in multiple series, so she thought I would be a good fit for Eris based on similar characters (rogueish, but with hidden depth that is explored over time) I’ve played elsewhere. I’m glad she did! Eris has been really fun.

How did you prepare for the role of Eris in terms of understanding the character's backstory, motivations, and relationships with other characters?

Graphic Audio does a fantastic job of preparing actors and directing us through performances. Colleen sent each actor a brief but rich character description, often quoting directly from the novels, as well as providing a plot description for each specific novel (necessary since the turnaround from offer to recording is very short). During our sessions, Colleen tells me everything I need to know about where Eris has been since the last scene/book and how his relationships have evolved. GA directors also read in as “scene partners,” which, considering they are all performers themselves, makes it very easy to react as I imagine Eris would.

Eris is a complex and morally ambiguous character. What aspects of his personality did you find most challenging to convey in your performance, and how did you approach tackling those challenges?

His vulnerability is very challenging. Eris has had a hard life, despite growing up with every privilege, which is difficult to convey. He hates everyone to some extent, but it all comes from how much he hates his family and himself. The scenes with Morrigan in particular take a while to record - he has all the feelings when talking to her, but he can’t show any of them.

Did you have any creative input into how Eris's voice would sound, or was it a collaborative effort with the production team and director? Were there any specific discussions about the character's vocal tone or style?

Definitely collaborative! His basic vocal character is very close to mine, with the musicality dialed up a bit so he can taunt everyone so well. Where my director really helps is pushing me to find the different levels to his interactions - when he’s teasing (often), when he’s antagonizing (mostly with Cassian), and when he’s speaking from his heart (VERY rarely, usually to or involving Morrigan).

What actors (voice, stage, film, etc) have inspired you? And did any actors or other characters help inspire your performance for Eris?

Hoo boy. Too many to list! For something like Eris, a lot of inspiration from Tom HIddleston’s Loki, Tom Cruise’s Lestat de Lioncourt, and anything Jeremy Irons has ever done. Characters that you can’t take your eyes off of, even as you want to beat the crap out of them.

Were there any specific challenges or unique aspects to voicing Eris compared to other characters you've portrayed in the past? How did you adapt your voice to capture his essence?

Y’know, for all the dirtbags, murderers, literal monsters, aliens, and villains I’ve voiced, Eris is the one with the biggest heart. The biggest challenge is allowing him to have a deep want, hidden from even himself, for some tenderness, the one thing he has been denied his entire life. A character like Eris is easy to just have fun with and play as a smug prick (which he is), but he has moments of aching loneliness that make him much richer. SPOILER: One of my most recent favorite moments was playing Eris’ surprise and gratitude when receiving a “made” dagger for safekeeping. Eris can’t fathom trusting anyone else with something so powerful and important, because he simply wasn’t shown that level of trust or respect. The moment took him by such surprise. It was great to let myself feel that in the playing.

Do you have any advice for aspiring voice actors who are considering pursuing a career in Voice Acting? Any tips for breaking into the business and honing their craft?

Train your voice! I received excellent vocal training as part of my MFA (Master of Fine Arts) in Acting at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville. I learned how to care for my vocal health, how to support with my breath, and how to modulate the dynamics of my voice for character differentiation as well as basic performance beats. You may not have the inclination for that level of training, but a regular voice lesson with a singing coach will give you similar techniques. In terms of breaking in: like anything of this nature, it’s relationships. Build a strong resume, but also build strong relationships with your collaborators and a reputation for reliability. Directors know that I’ll prepare so that I can make strong initial choices, but that I am more than happy to adjust my choices as needed to make the overall production its best.

[tarjapearce]

How can you describe miguel mentally and emotionally ?

Oh man... This is a tough one. I'll start by saying that, even though we saw a glimpse of his mindset on ATSV, we still have sooo much to learn and know about him. (We just had it for 15 mins. jsksk)

I did this thing a while ago, focusing mostly on his grieving that addressed the rest just superficially.

I won't say I know him better than anyone cause

1. No. Characters evolve and I feel it'd be disrespectful af to just reduce him to a couple of traits or claim that I know him better than I know my nipple jsksk.

2. He's a complex character that is so well written that makes us all go psychoanalysing his behavior 🤭. (And love me a man that puts me to think)

But jokes aside.

He's emotionally unavailable. Simple as that. And though it might sound obvious to some, (And our savior complex kicks in and tell us to fix him 👀 yeah, I'm talking to us jsksk) there's no way we can do that, cause that's up to him ~. (And you can't help someone that doesn't wants to be helped.)

Healing takes time. And guess who overworks himself to the point of having his cortisol running 24/7 through his body? Miguel. He doesn't have time for therapy. His fear of watching it all go to hell once more is a too fresh wound. Some traumas last decades, and naturally people find ways around it without interacting with it directly to avoid reliving such impairment.

(I do appreciate the fact that in the new comic book, we see him trying to make amends with Conchata though. He's trying!!! :D.)

2. He's a patient man. I mean, he recruited after all versions of Spiderman that have this trait in common: They're perceived as friendly. And they're mostly young adults and teens. (Both are a handful btw. And most stories and comics Peter Parker is depicted as a 18-23 year old)

But they like pushing his buttons, (cracking a joke every 5 minutes, doing whatever they want even when specific orders were given) however. He doesn't strike me as someone that is mean on purpose, he's just wary but not totally closed off towards people. Wich is kinda contradictory on its own since:

You don't go around trusting people first hand upon just knowing them, right? 👀. But at the same time he showed Miles his own canon event, trying to empathise with him before dropping the bomb. (He was mentally preparing him, something he wasn't able to get but to experience the worst way)

A hypocrite truly. And not in the bad bad way (He calls a nerd the NWH Peter yet he is one) , cynic to an extent (Since he keeps repeating he's been the only one trying to keep it all together, meaning he still doesn't fully trusts the people around him.) A showoff (Did you see the way he turns towards Gwen when he first appears? Or the way he says "I was gonna do that") , arrogant to also an extent. ("It's much more cooler than a watch").

He took the job as a leader cause he knew none else was gonna, and if there was another one willing to assume the role, I'm sure he'd be dissatisfied with it's development cause our man likes to feel safe in when he's in control. (A trait often met in people with generalized anxiety)

And when he's not, his brain immediately goes into threat mode, but even so is able to adapt. (I have a theory he learned this the bad way. We've still got to see the origins of his Rapture intake though 🤔)

Now, we know this man is emotionally unavailable, through and through. His love is work. And married to it.

Now, I might get a bit controversial after this and some might not like it, but I don't think he wants another family after that. (We don't know much about this Miguel's background or family except that he was looking for things, and he found Gabi's universe. And for you to look into another universe in need to be happy says enough to imagine his family or is non existent or is really messed up.)

I know we want him to be happy, (And the producers better give him some healing and closure or else.) Cause he deserves everything. But grieving doesn't work like that. A loss like that is unmeasurable, it changes literally your brain chemistry forever. The least appropriate thing you'd do is have another kid or someone after such event.

(I've seen what that is an it's not nice. Specially for the involved kid)

But we're all ill here so Thank goodness fanfics exist ❤️

He allowed himself to be selfish enough to be happy, had his fun but consequences caught up to him. Consequences that he didn't know and now has him perpetuating his guilt and mind berating.

Hence the workaholic attitude, the coldness. He's done with establishing something with people in general, not just someone special. He's done of getting trampled by life, so he sticks with something he knows he can do very well and pours into it. The Multiverse is his hyperfixation.

Keeps him busy, keeps him on control but curiously and contradictory again, it keeps him needed and useful.

He's a walking contradiction. He doesn't need people to watch over him, not cause he doesn't deserves it. He knows that people worry about him, that's why he just minds his own thing to not be a burden.

Self-Sufficient, over achiever (Alchemax CEO & Spiderman, a genius, bilingual, probably more languages on his list cause he leads a multicultural and multidimensional task force babes ~)

He's not bad, he just doesn't know how to direct his anger or allows himself to feel properly and often rationalises his feelings. (Another coping mechanism where you're tired of feeling stuff and justify difficult or negative with logical thoughts)

But again, curiously knows how to communicate. I know it's fucked to say when he threw a trash bin to Miles before that. But! Hear me out.

Retaking the previous point, he was preparing Miles to give him the talk. After he throws the trash bin, he knows that anger won't solve things (Even though he wanted to give some chancla spanks to Miles for being an anomaly) So he chills, and you can see the transition between being completely furious to a more emotional approach. (Parenting surge there.)

He starts explaining everything from scratch, (literally with drawings and stuff) so Miles wouldn't be lost on what he was on about. Then they moved to the canon events, and shows his major trauma to him as a sign of empathy and an invitation to honest talk.

He admits he doesn't like what he does, and if you look closer his face is so damn distressed when locking Miles in the trap. It pains him, but again, someone has to do it, yet none is scarred enough to bear the burden.

I just want to hug him and send him to therapy. Cause he needs it. (Pretty sure he gave up on that too cause it was too time consuming.)

I'd be satisfied if the writers gave him that ❤️. But yeah. That's one of my many takes on him. Hope it helps c: