#i know i make this post once a month but it keeps bringing me back in and then i remember it sucks
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mtt therapy moment except dust keeps taking breaks to talk to phantom papyrus and horror just wants this to hurry up so it can get to his turn because he couldn't give two shits about dust and killer's trauma and killer physically cannot discuss his issues and just starts zoning out while crying for some reason during it
and i'm the therapist listening to all of this writing down notes fervently because ITS CANON MATERIAL CANON I NEED TO GET THE CANON MATERIAL
#i have to break apart like 34 potential fights with my otherdimensional godly creator powers#i would be an ass therapist i will not lie. infact i would make them worse with my knowledge of their lives. never put me in a room w them#OH MY GOD I JUST REVISTED THIS IDEA AFTER LEAVING IT TO COLLECT DUST (hehehe) IN MY DRAFYS FOR A MONTH#ANS TJIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY HELP 😭😭😭😭😭 HELP😭😭😭😭😭😭#still real tho highkey i havent changed 1 bit. ITS CANON OMG WRITE THSY DOWN WHAY WERE THE EXACT REACTIONS#ive got these guys wearing microphones i got cameras in the room i got advanced psychologists watching to explain every detail#is it a therapy session or just a badly disguised interview#nooo nooo its therapy......DONT LEAVS!!!! (activates the chains (that coincidentally all are connected to eachother) (heheheheh))#now youCANT leave😈😈😈😈😈 not until im done asking my questions ASSHOLES. dont question the handcuffs that keep you guys together please#actually id probably get like nothing out of them because theyre all repressed and defensive and whatever. BUT im simply more determined so#tricule rant#killer sans#horror sans#dust sans#murder time trio#utmv#sans au#fandom event if the mtt ever became real. we're all lining up to the facility to ask one question#world's hardest challenge: if you could ask the murder time trio one thing what would it be#FUCK idk...... id simply hav too many questions!!!! UGH!!!!!!!!!#triglycercule do your homework SHUT UO RESPONSIBLE VOICE IN MY HEAD!!!! I WONT!!!!! NOT UNTIL THIS IS DONE#fall headcanons for the trio when. i'll think of them once i'm done with homework#see a reward system! now i have a thought that i dont wanna say in tags this will be going to the side blog#anyways! i think that's enough drafts undrafted and posted i REALLY need to do my homework#i dont even have that much it's literally 2 assignments but i know damn well doing 1 of them is gonna bring me to dream and nightmare's age#sigh......... i hate school bring me back to summer break i wasSO productive. SMH
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splatoon is so boring now....
#i know i make this post once a month but it keeps bringing me back in and then i remember it sucks#and then the cycle continues
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so magical that yakuza 1 and shadow the hedgehog came out the same year........ 2005 the best year for sega honestly.....
#snap chats#AND DAYS APART TOO IN JAPAN (rgg1 dec. 8 while shadow was dec. 15)#the gap is significantly wider for US releases but thats not important.....#japanese kids were winning on christmas i swear#'snap why are you bringing this up' isnt it obvious. i am playing shadow the hedgedhog#and i keep thinking about daigo playing shadow and then later down the line just talking to mine bout it cause he can be a lil sillay#i hope he had dreams where he and shadow got to be besties. and by Him And Shadow i mean he dreams himself as sonic#because obligatory Same VA Joke Is Obligatory IF WE CAN GET ONE (1) W FROM RCS VOICING DAIGO. LET IT BE THAT AT LEAST.#for me..... let it slide for me..... yes ik it was jason griffith voicing sonic (and shadow) back then but let it slide this once..#i refuse to acknowledge modern shadow. unless it's from that one uhhh fuck what was the cartoon called#its on netflix Point Is the one time shadow was actually like his old self girl i sobbed. too bad sonic was a dipshit though#a soul for a soul ig.... i think its ok just this once....#im getting so off topic but this is how i inflict my other interests upon you lot#i trap you into reading a post vaguely about rgg and then i make it about something else :)#look at my pfp you fool. i legally have to talk about shadow the hedgehog like once a month ok let me have this#while im here. like /i/ know this game is nine years long but sometimes i forget HOW long#326 endings and for what. because they love me thats why.#fym 'revenge at last' is only ending 11 that seems like the third route or so you'd take (only black doom missions)#ok ive talked long enough. anyway bye im gonna uhhhh god idk.... i keep getting distracted#i started watching kagerou while my sister was playing mysims the other day but i got too engrossed by her playing to continue#mysims was like. A White Whale of sorts in my house for a while since it was one of like five games my sis actually played#and it was her fave but one day 1.) we lost it 2.) our wii stopped working. since that day she's blamed me for losing it#WELL then i found it and i got the wii u working SO all that can stop now 👁️👁️ ok ive fr gone on too long#unfortunately i cant talk about EVERYTHING i want to lest i just turn this into a general games blog. but i wont i prommy#for now. bye fr i think my sis just got home actually LMAO
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Starting off by saying I hate “mom Danny” bc it tends to be p transphobic and misgendering, so if anyone adds it to my post I’m blocking them.
Tim making his Kon clone baby, but the cloning chamber isn’t stable enough for the fetus. He’s desperately trying anything that he think might work, when he comes across Phantom. Phantom who has experience with stabilizing clones.
Danny had heard whispers through the grapevine (Ellie who’d joined the Teen Titans as Phantasm) that there was someone attempting to make clones. He’d only meant to snoop and see if it was a Vlad situation. If any clones had been made and needed liberating. What he found was a newly minted Red Robin crying over a red blinking message on a cloning chamber. He warbled a quiet “please, Kon, I don’t want to live without you.”
Danny quickly realizing this wasn’t an attempt to replace and destroy, but actually someone grieving, in probably an unhealthy way, but who was Danny to judge, he’d once replaced Sam and Tucker with robots for less. So he decided to help Red Robin out. Sure, he hadn’t dealt with kryptonian dna before, but he was at least 89% sure halfa dna was way more complicated. And Red Robin had already figured out ways around the dna shenanigans, it was just the stability that wasn’t going well. Honestly, he didn’t think it would be as easy as an ecto dejecto like it had been for Ellie. But his parents had a lot of inventions that they’d started making to help out ghosts, once they’d realized Danny was Phantom. Maybe telling Red Robin about ghost IVF wasn’t his most thought through plan.
“I think what might help is an incubator.” Phantom had suggested.
Tim could only gesture at the cloning chambers that had failed him thus far. They were essentially huge incubators.
Phantom awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I meant, like, a living incubator. Like a surrogate.”
“Where am I going to find someone that I not only trust to carry the baby, but also would volunteer?” Tim raised an eyebrow at him. Hell, had Tim had the equipment to do so, he would have carried the baby, everything else be damned. He just didn’t want to be alone anymore.
Phantom blushed green and looked away. “It might take a little tinkering with the embryos to work with the physiology, but…. I could carry the baby for you. I mean, I’m trans, and even if I wasn’t, ghosts are kind of malleable in a reproductive sense. And there are options for IVF in ghost science. And like, my own clone is like my little sister. I’m also a protection spirit, so I would protect the baby with my entire afterlife. And I’m kind of rambling so you should say something before I embarrass myself.”
“You would be willing to carry a baby for me?” Tim was shell shocked by the offer.
“I mean, yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not cloning him for a malicious reason. You’re just trying to bring back a piece of your friend because you love and miss him. Dedication that strong for someone who has left the living plain, is admirable. You realized early on that you wouldn’t be able to increase the speed in which the clone grew. You’ve been trying despite knowing that this clone will be a baby that’s going to be your child, and not just the friend you lost. And I wouldn’t mind giving up my body for a little bit so you can make your family.”
Tim certainly hadn’t meant to surge forward and kiss Phantom. “Thank you.” Tim pulled Phantom into a fierce hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
It took about a month for them to work out the kinks of making the baby safe for Danny’s body. In this time, Danny showing Red Robin his human form, and Tim revealing his own identity. It felt kind of wrong to keep his name from someone he intended to get pregnant with his child. Tim and Danny got close as they worked together on the baby. And there may have been a few more kisses shared between them. In the end, the baby ended up spliced with mostly Kon’s dna, some of Tim’s (to stabilize the kryptonian dna), and some of Danny’s (to keep the baby safe in the womb).
Once Danny was well and truly pregnant, he encouraged Tim to find Bruce. “I’ll keep the baby safe. You find your dad. If you need me for anything, I’m only a call away.” Tim hadn’t forgotten about Bruce, he’d just never thought it would take so long to set up cloning Kon. So much of his hurt and loneliness had fallen away in Danny’s presence, and Danny had let him hyper focus on making their baby.
“Probably terrible timing, but I’ve got to ask,” Tim swallowed nervously. “Be my boyfriend?”
Danny’s lopsided smile, thawed Tim’s nerves. “I think I could work with that. I hope you don’t mind kids though, I’m kind of pregnant.”
Tim huffed a laugh. “I’ll keep in touch while I’m away. Please keep me updated on the baby.”
Danny pulled him into a proper kiss, “I will.”
I’m mostly imagining Tim getting bump update photos and falling in love with his increasingly pregnant boyfriend, while he finds Bruce.
I’m also imagining after Bruce is back, Tim being like, “anyways gtg, my boyfriend is in his third trimester and I don’t want to miss the birth of our baby.” And peacing out before any bats could react, let alone stop him.
And also maybe when Kon comes back, there’s maybe a poly relationship started.
Also thinking about Tim getting Danny pregnant without the science.
Danny gets Dad, Tim gets Papa, and if Kon joins, he gets Poppy.
#dead tired#tim x danny#danny x tim#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#tim drake#Danny phantom#dani phantom#red Robin#kon el kent#conner kent#pregnant Danny#clone baby#Kon el#superboy#robin#dc#dc comics#batman#dc characters#chatonfils writing#I don’t really know where Tim’s cloning attempts fit into the timeline#I need to read the comics and not just fanfic#but I think Danny is probably the best person to go to in the case of destabilized clones#TimKon#timkondanny#superdeadtired
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i care for you still
ex bf!jj maybank x fem!reader
cw — talks of a breakup, both cry, fluff, kissing, angst, implied sex
summary — after a few months, you finally decide to talk with jj one on one.
a/n — idk why jj just popped back up into my mind but i wrote this in like 20 minutes so excuse me if its garbage. please request though!!!
do not copy or post my work anywhere else.
it’d been months of tense hangouts with the pogues, months of jj moping around, and months of your friends begging you to just talk to him. you’d tried multiple times but he was stubborn. every conversation somehow ended with you two back to the same topic of your past relationship.
it wasn’t that you didn’t love jj anymore, you were sure part of you always would. he was your first boyfriend, first love, first kiss, first time, first everything. he’d always have part of your heart. he was the one who taught you real love.
but there was that saying that went “you can’t love someone else if you don’t love yourself,” which couldn’t be more true. you couldn’t pin why or when it started, but you slowly started to lose yourself. your mental health began slipping, you hated looking in the mirror, and you wanted to do nothing else but rot in bed.
in turn, you started pulling away from jj which only hurt him more than you knew. it broke your heart, and it broke even more to have to break up with him. but you couldn’t just string him along when you knew you weren’t in the right state to be in a relationship.
after you’d done it, the two of you took a break from the pogues in fear you’d have to see the other. in the early months, it felt like you’d never get over him and the thought of having to see him only made your heart ache more. thankfully, you still had sarah and kiara to keep you company while he had pope and john b.
after a while, you both began hanging with the group as a whole. it was always tense and awkward but you still tried to enjoy it and not make it weird for your friends. on the odd chance that you were alone with him, he’d always bring up your relationship and ask where it went wrong.
once he’d received no real answer the last ten times, he just stopped asking. he had realized maybe it was better that he didn’t know. he’d heard rumors of you messing with other guys and he wasn’t sure he could take it if he found out you were truly with someone else.
this all brought you here at the chateau with your friends. you all were sat on the porch, besides jj who was sat in the hammock with a can of beer in his hand. you were completely zoned out and definitely not listening to the argument between john b and kiara about micro plastics.
you sighed and took a sip out of your bottle of water before getting up to use the bathroom. “be right back,” you told the others as you stood and opened the front door to go inside. you toed past the small piles of clothes on the floor and picked up some empty cans on the way to throw out.
you headed into the bathroom and turned on the sink, pressing some cold water on your skin to cool off before washing your hands and looking at yourself in the mirror. you chewed your lip anxiously as you just stared.
you had to have been in there for a few minutes, maybe five if you had to guess. then there was a knock and the sound of kiaras voice. “we’re heading out to get some more beer. you want anything?” she asked, slightly muffled through the thick wood.
“no, i’m okay,” you replied quickly knowing you definitely didn’t need to be drinking heavily tonight. you heard her mumble a quick goodbye before her footsteps got louder and the sound of the front door echoed through the empty space. you dried your hands on the towel behind you then made your way back through the house.
you stepped outside onto the porch, freezing when you were met with jj. “thought you went with them,” he said awkwardly after clearing his throat. his body stiffened and his hands fidgeted with one another.
“uh, no,” you stammered just as awkwardly. “i was in the bathroom.” you didn’t even know why you said that. he didn’t need to know that and he probably didn’t care either.
he shook his empty can in his right hand. “we’re out of beer,” he explained almost as if he were letting you know why he was up on the porch in front of you. the last thing he needed you thinking was that he was some weird stalker.
you nodded. “i heard,” you said and stepped aside to allow him to walk past you and into the house. he quickly walked inside and to the fridge in search of something. “are you okay?” you blurted out as you followed him in even though you most likely knew the answer.
“fine. you?” he replied bluntly. he knew you weren’t stupid and he knew you were definitely onto him. he closed the fridge door and leaned against the kitchen counter to look at you.
you frowned slightly at his cold attitude. “i’m sorry, jj,” you said softly. “i’m sorry about the way i treated you.”
he bit the inside of his cheek and crossed his arms over his chest, looking off to the side for a second to gather his thoughts. “why’d you do it?”
you almost chose to play stupid for a second and ask what he meant but you’d had this conversation one too many times to not know what he meant. only this time, you intended to finish it. “i was scared,” you began timidly. “i wasn’t doing good and i was scared to hurt you.”
“but you did,” he replied just above a whisper. the air was thick with tension and the house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop and every floorboard creak.
you pursed your lips into a thin line and nodded sadly. “i know. i thought breaking up would make it easier instead of dragging you down with me,” you said with the same softness in your voice as his. “but it didn’t and i hurt you. and i’m sorry for that.”
his eyes bored into yours, his once energetic, bright blue eyes now a more dull, tired shade. “why couldn’t you just talk to me about it? i coulda helped you.”
you could hear the shake in his voice. the conversations never really went this far, usually stopping the moment they started because you just couldn’t handle it. and here you were, beginning to choke up. “because i didn’t wanna bother you,” you stated.
“it wouldn’t have bothered me, you know that,” he said, uncrossing his arms and instead placing them behind him on the counter. “i woulda wanted you to talk to me if somethin’ was up. i coulda been there to help you or at least support you.”
you bit your lip nervously and looked down at your hands, now beginning to pick at your cuticles. “its hard to talk about,” you muttered. “i jus’ didn’t feel good about myself and i couldn’t put that on you.”
he let out a shaky breath. “i woulda done anything for you,” he whispered. “i jus’ wanted to be there for you.”
you heard the soft sob that slipped past his lips. the two of you were reopening old, unhealed wounds now and the unshed tears that had been pushed down for months were beginning to finally surface. you finally looked back up to his face, him already looking at you with tears in his eyes. “do you want a hug?” you asked gently.
when he didn’t reply, you took cautious steps toward him to give him an opportunity to back out before wrapping your arms around his neck. you immediately felt his arms lock around your waist tight and him crane down to bury his face into the space between your shoulder and neck.
his body shook with sobs as he cried into your t-shirt. it only made your heart break more and in turn, you felt tears finally fall down your cheeks. “i’m really fucking sorry jj,” you mumbled through your wobbling voice.
“it’s okay,” he sobbed, squeezing you a little tighter against him. “i forgive you. i forgave you months ago.”
you frowned and closed your eyes, just savoring the moment between you two. it felt like the world went silent for a moment. like it was just you two again. you missed this feeling and by the way he was clinging onto you, you assumed he did too.
you two stayed like that for another minute before he finally began to pull away slowly, still keeping his hands firmly holding your hips. your arms stayed linked around his neck with how close the two of you remained. “gimme one more chance,” he mumbled, his intense gaze staring right into you.
you closed your eyes and sighed. “jj—“
he cut you off. “please, sweetheart. i don’t want you to be alone. whatever you need, ’m here. i jus’ wanna be here for you.”
“you can’t fix me,” you replied honestly. “this is something i need to do on my own.”
he thought for a moment before nodding. “thats okay. you can do it alone. i’ll jus’ be here to support you.”
you felt your bottom lip wobble and your eyes burn with tears. you’d never really had someone like jj who stuck with you through your stubbornness, someone who continued offering help even when you consistently denied and subconsciously began to self sabotage. “i don’t wanna dump all my problems on you.”
he wiped the drop of liquid that ran down your cheek with his thumb before taking both your hands in his own. “don’t worry about that. just worry about you, ok? i got the rest.”
you shook your head. “that’s not fair to you, jj.” you leaned your forehead against his chest to hide your face when you felt more thick tears fall silently.
he brought one hand up to cradle the back of your head while the other intertwined your fingers. “if it means you’ll feel better, then i don’t care. i just wanna help you. trust me, ‘m gonna be fine.”
you immediately began to melt when you felt his hand play with your hair softly. you couldn’t say no to him, you never could. this was the man you were completely and utterly in love with and even after putting him through so much, he was still this soft with you. how could you just move on?
pulling away from his chest, his hand moved from the back of your head to your cheek, cradling it in his large palm. his thumb lightly traced your cheekbone as he searched your eyes for any negative signs, anything to tell him what he was about to do was wrong.
when he found absolutely nothing, he surged forward and pressed him lips to yours. you sighed into the kiss, months of longing and passion poured into one simple movement. his other hand moved from yours to your hip inside, squeezing lightly at it and pulling you closer so your body was pressed to his.
“fuck, i missed you,” he mumbled against your lips before kissing you again, slipping his tongue inside and moving his hand that was once on your cheek to your neck to gently press at the sides. you felt a little lightheaded at the action in the best ways possible.
the kiss was slow and passionate, something you’d missed so desperately about being with jj. he didn’t often rush things like this. he preferred to take his time and make you feel all woozy and worked up.
you could feel him begin to get slightly antsy, unsure of what to do with his hands. you chose to grab the one on your hip and slide it down lower. he instinctively brought the other one down as well and cupped your ass before laughing against your lips when you whimpered.
once the two of your finally needed to catch your breath, panting and mingling your breaths, he smiled cheekily. “how ‘bout we make up for lost time?”
you couldn’t help but return the same smile. “i think i like that idea.”
he wasted no time in grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting you up, heading straight for the guest room he claimed as his own.
#gracie writes jj maybank 🌸#jj maybank#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x you#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank imagines#jj maybank x reader#obx jj#jj obx#jj outer banks#jj maybank angst#jj maybank blurb#jj#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank obx#jj maybank one shot
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6/2 Update: Security deposit has been paid!! Thank you so much to everyone for the help 💚 I still have to pull together all of June rent for my current place which is $675. Thank you everyone for all of the help so far 💚
I’m asking for help with June rent, which is $675 and needs to be paid ASAP.
Cashapp https://cash.app/clawshot
venmo https://venmo.com/rmck89
ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/roebeanstalk
Any help at all is super appreciated. Every dollar adds up, and shares are so helpful too. I know that I’ve received so much help from people in the past and I can’t thank you all enough. I hope that this is the last of these that I have to do.
Needs:
June rent: $23/$675
Security Deposit: $495/495 Paid 💚
Bonus:
July rent (First month at new place): $495
Movers + Uhaul: $300-350
More info on my situation under the cut!
Thank you so, so so much.
I have a history of mental health issues, and as a result I have a very difficult time getting and maintaining employment. My mental health also impacts my ability to keep up with and complete freelance/commission work in a timely manner. While I have made some incredible steps forward lately thanks to the right combo of therapy, medication, and a support system, I am still not at a point where I am self-sufficient yet. I am getting there – and I am committed to keep trying no matter what.
Original post blurb, taken out of main post since deposit has been paid:
My landlord has decided not to move forward with me as a tenant due to my history with payment/mental health. While this is frustrating as heck, it’s allowed me to find a better, more affordable housing situation. I have signed a lease at a new place and move in July 1st!Once the deposit is paid, my space on the lease is officially secured and I am good to go. This is the main thing that I am looking for help with.
Why I need help:
This new housing situation is incredible for me – it’s a room in a quiet house with two other queer folk, and the rent is very affordable compared to my current situation. The new place is $485/month, the current place is $675/month. Even with utilities, my total overhead for shelter will cost less than rent at my current place. If I can secure my spot in this house and move forward, I see such a clear path forward for me in terms of self-improvement and self-sufficiency.
For the first time in 15 years, I feel like I can tackle the things ahead of me. If you’re able to help out I would really, really appreciate it.
What I’m doing:
I am job hunting for something that works well for my situation. With the cost of rent, I think that a part time job will be able to cover it. The process of getting a job is difficult for me, but I am committed to continuing to work at it.
On the art front, I have occasional comic coloring jobs that help me out. I also have commissions – I have finally been moving forward at a good rate and have been really happy with my work. In time, this will be able to be a more standard income route. I also have a Patreon that brings in about $65/month.
Cashapp https://cash.app/clawshot / venmo https://venmo.com/rmck89 / ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/roebeanstalk
Thank you so much for reading over all of this. Thank you to everyone who has helped with donations or kind words or reblogs. Thank you so much to every commissioner and customer who has been patient as hell with me on artwork, communication, and stickers. Thank you thank you thank you. Thanks to every single one of you I have been able to keep pushing myself forward, and I'm so happy to keep doing it and make good on everything. And eventually, give back to my community. I love you all so much, even though i don't know any of you that well. Thank youuuu. <3
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Look for the Light ── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ
Canon Abby! x reader; apocalypse au!
Synopsis: You and Abby used to be best friends back in the Fireflies, but after her trip to Jackson, she makes it clear she no longer wants to be friends. If anything, she doesn't seem to even like you anymore. However, her actions keep stating otherwise...
Warnings for; Smut, switch Abby! Follows timeline of TLOU2
Word count: 3.9k
✦ ───────────────────── ✦
You didn't know Abby Anderson.
At least, not anymore.
Now she was just Issac's top Scar killer, another soldier in the WLF, another person like any other.
You arrived at Soundview Stadium a few months ago with a few other WLF soldiers, your patrol unit finally moving in after guarding a post near the Seraphites Island.
You still remembered the day you first ran into Abby again, surprised to see her returning from the lodge up in Jackson.
You didn't know how high she had climbed in the ranks with Issac then, all you knew then was that your old best friend was standing in front of you, walking with Owen and Mel- and you nearly knocked her over when you ran to give her a hug, burying your face in the crook of her neck, never so glad to smell the familiar scent of pine and vanilla. Abby had been strangely stiff, patting you awkwardly on the back like you hadn't spent nearly two years with her in the Fireflies.
Seeing her gave you hope, hope that you two could talk and make up for lost time, finally have some companionship- but that hope was quickly dashed when Abby made it clear to you that she didn't want that at all.
She had said it later on when you two were alone, your things finally unpacked in the tiny room. You had tried to ask her how she was doing, how Jackson went, if she was alright, but it all fell on deaf ears.
"Listen y/n..."
Abby had said, pausing for a moment, rubbing the back of her neck. It was as if she knew this wasn't a good idea, that the next words were words she couldn't take back.
"I don't think we should be friends, I know we used to be but that was a long time ago- I'm just not the person you used to know."
You had been hurt then, hoping she'd give you more of a reason, but Abby was silent, her once bright blue eyes cold and dim.
If Abby Anderson no longer wanted to be friends, if she wanted to pass by you in the hall like you didn't once know every detail about each other - fine.
Fine by you.
-
"Y/n?"
You opened your eyes groggily and opened the door to see Nora standing in the threshold.
"Hey, Issac wants you to report to him- says he's got the details for your latest mission"
You smiled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.
"Thanks, Nora, I'll be there in a sec"
You threw on some clothes before heading out, making your way up to Issac's office.
"Hey-"
You pushed open the door and saw Abby, Manny, and Issac already waiting for you, and felt your heart drop into your stomach at the sight of her.
"Ahhh, y/n there you are, now we can get started. A rogue group of Seraphites attacked a patrol yesterday down by the Eastbrook area- I want you guys to go in and sweep to make sure they're all gone. Bring any supplies you find back." Issac pointed to the map on the table for emphasis.
"Y/n, I know you haven't been on a mission with these two before but trust me, they're good. I can get your old crew for a different mission another time"
"No problem Issac, I can work with anyone"
"Great," Issac said before continuing, "When you return, we'll start drafting our plans to invade the Seraphites' Island, we can take the boats and see if we can defeat them on home territory."
Your gaze immediately darted to Abby, wondering what she thought of the news, but she only stared stubbornly ahead.
"Grab something to eat and then head out, take the truck, Manny."
"Alright, let's go guys"
Manny left, and you watched Abby leave as well, trailing behind them, sighing inwardly at the day ahead of you. Today's mission was gonna be a long one.
-
"The Seraphites have been growing bold lately"
Manny broke the silence, seemingly oblivious to the tension that lay between you and Abby.
The back of the truck was snug, Manny and Abby on one side, you on the other. Abby was looking anywhere but your face it seemed, and you sat there quietly, pretending like you weren't sneaking glances whenever you got the chance. After all, this was the closest you had been to her in years.
To be fair, you both equally avoided each other at base- she didn't want anything to do with you, so why would you bother with her?
"Yeah well they broke the treaty, if any of them are at Eastbrook we wipe the site and leave"
The air is chilly when you step out, you adjust your jacket and flip the safety off your gun.
"School looks deserted, but best if we just do a patrol of the site just to be sure. Abby, go with her, patrol the inside, I'll do a grounds check first"
Manny walks off, gun in hand, already entering an old school bus parked in front of the school.
"Come on" Abby says, and you follow her as she prys open the front door.
The interior of the school is a mess, the wallpaper of the walls peeling, desks pushed half hazardly into the hall. Sad shreds of streamers hang from the ceiling, every window smashed, the shards glistening on the floor.
You enter a classroom, pushing the door open with your gun.
Your eyes light up at the greenery inside, the schooldesks covered in a bed of moss, ivy hanging from holes in the ceiling.
"It's beautiful-" You say to yourself, bending down to pick up the remainders of the kids' drawings on the ground. You examine one, it's a picture of a house with what looks to be a horse-
"Can you stay focused? We're supposed to be looking for supplies"
Abby's voice cuts sharply through the silence, the only sound the rifling she's causing by searching through the desks.
You sigh and help her, retrieving a roll of bandages and a few packs of old batteries before moving onto the next room.
Abby finds the cafeteria at the end of the hall, and the old shelves of the cafeteria pantry prove to be quite sparse, with nothing but some old bean cans that Abby takes anyway. She's still acting like you don't exist, so you've got a whole lot of time to examine your surroundings.
You hear a creak while searching through the cupboards and pause, listening for footsteps.
"Do you mind moving a little quicker? Maybe your old patrol did things slower, but I'd like to get back to base sometime soo-"
"Shut up!" You whisper harshly, cutting her off.
Abby looks offended, finally training her gaze on yours, but your eyes dart away to the doors of the cafeteria.
"What?"
Abby asks, watching you.
You hear it again, a second creak. You push Abby up against the wall by the lapels of her jacket, her blue eyes wide with surprise. Her gaze darts down to your lips for a second before her arms come up to pull yours off.
"Woah y/n- what are you-"
A loud bang interrupts Abby's next words, the double wooden doors of the cafeteria slamming open as five Seraphites rush in.
"Seraphites!" You yell, dragging Abby down with you to avoid the gunfire.
Abby breaks out of your hold, punching the nearest Seraphite in the face as you shoot the second. The third Seraphite comes running at you, tackling you to the ground, slamming your wrist against the concrete floor. A sharp pain runs through your arm, and you watch as he kicks your gun out of reach. You grapple on the floor together, kicking as he attempts to strangle you, worried about Abby- before a loud gunshot rings out and the Seraphite's body slumps over you.
Abby stands over you, one hand extended. You take it.
The other two Seraphites lay dead on the ground, bodies riddled with bullets. You brush yourself off, but the ache in your arm is making itself more evident.
"Thanks"
Abby hands you your gun but her brows furrow at the way you cradle your left arm gingerly.
"Are you okay?" She asks.
You feign nonchalance as best you can.
"Yeah.. but my arm might not be"
Abby hesitates for a moment, but reaches out and examines your arm. Her touch is soft, a strange contrast to the stoic way she's been acting this whole mission.
"I think medical should check you out" Abby says, clearing her throat. "Come on we should head back to the truck."
Abby steps back and pushes open the doors. You follow her out.
-
Medical let you go with a brace for the minor fraction on your left arm. You felt miserable, first mission back in the field and injured- you wouldn't be cleared to go on another for at least another few weeks.
You sat slumped against a bookshelf in the library, half hazardly reading "City of Thieves" by David Benioff, ignoring the dull ache in your arm. You'd been doing this for at least a week now, hiding out from prying eyes.
"Y/n?"
Your eyebrows raised at the sound of Abby's voice, and even further when she came over, standing awkwardly in front of you.
"How's your arm?"
Abby asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
"It's fine, I guess," You replied. "Just reading to pass the time. Medical ordered I "take it easy" for the next two weeks." You rolled your eyes at the last part. The corners of Abby's mouth twitched, as if she was holding back a smile, but you were sure it was a trick of the light.
"That sucks.. what are you reading?"
Much to your surprise, Abby sat down next to you, one muscular arm reaching over your lap to grab your book.
"Hey, City of the Thieves? I'm reading this one right now- no spoilers"
She held up a finger in warning, and you smiled at her attempt to joke.
"Yeah, yeah" You waved her away.
A beat of silence stretches between you, and you work up the courage to break it.
"So.. what did you come here for? We both know it wasn't just to talk about books"
"I.." Abby looked at the floor, picking at the fabric below. "I wanted to apologize for what I said a few months ago.. and how I've been treating you ever since. I'm sorry"
Abby stops to look up at you, and you take the opportunity to study her. Her cheekbones are a little sharper. There's a healing cut across her cheek that hadn't been there before. Her rosy cheeks, full lips, and clear blue eyes- they're the same.
She's still your Abby, somewhere.
But the hurt you felt then, the lack of company you've had, the loneliness you've felt? It's also there, somewhere.
"Why'd you do it then?"
You ask, and Abby's eyes drop back to the floor. She's silent for so long you're sure she's going to just leave, but she answers.
"I thought I'd feel better after I found the guy who killed my dad in Jackson... but, I don't."
You inhale at her admission, eyes searching for hers as she meets your gaze. The softness she finds in yours prompt her to press on,
"I feel like nothing makes me happy anymore, I still wake up every night from reoccuring nightmares about him- and I've pushed a lot of people away because of how angry I feel. Angry that he's left me, angry that killing the one guy I trained for 4 years to fight to avenge him didn't make me feel better, angry that I've fucked up in every relationship with anyone I care about because of it-"
Abby runs her hands through her hair, smoothing down the stray strands of hair in her braid.
"Y/n, I pushed you away because I care about you. I was being fucking stupid back then- and every time after. I wanted to be near you so much but I felt like I didn't deserve it. I'm not a good person. You deserve someone better than me"
Abby hung her head and stood up, ready to accept whatever you had to say.
"That's up to me to decide Abs."
You said softly, and Abby looked up in surprise. She felt both shock and happiness when you hugged her, and for a second she stood still. Was she allowed to have this? To have you, even for a moment?
Abby hesitated for a moment, before burying her face in your hair, pressing you closer to her.
She never wanted to lose you again.
-
The next few weeks passed by in a blur, your arm healing up just fine. You and Abby spent a lot of time together- eating together in mess hall, going for walks around the crop fields- she helped keep your mind off the itch you felt to get back out.
Lately though, Abby had been acting a little strange, spending more time in the gym, off walking Alice or talking to Manny more than she usually did. You assumed it was nothing though, after all, what else could it be?
"Did you hear? Issac's gonna do a large-scale attack on the Seraphites Island, Manny and Abby got instructed to lead the assault with their chosen squads."
You overhear Nora talking to Mel on your way to mess hall, and your eyebrows furrow. You remember Issac talking about invading the Seraphites back when, but Abby hasn't mentioned it to you at all. Before you have more time to think about it further, Abby arrives and hands you a still warm burrito.
"Hey y/n, brought you breakfast"
Abby smiles at you, and you smile back despite the worry at the back of your mind. She would tell you, wouldn't she?
"Wanna go for a walk?" Abby asks, but you shake your head. You're due for a visit to Medical- you hadn't been needing your arm brace and was sure that with a medical note Issac would dispatch you to assignments again.
The Medical Bay turned out to be quite empty, so you're out with the note clutched in your hand in no time.
You head up to Issac's, past the cells holding Seraphites, and knocked politely on the interrogation door. Issac emerged a dew seconds later.
"Y/n? Oh, a medical note"
While Issac read, you inquired about the rumor you'd heard at breakfast, trying your best to seem casual.
"Abby and Manny are leading the squads in the assault on Seraphites Island right? Would I be able to join them?"
Issac looked surprised,
"You'd have to ask them, they get first pick of who they'd like, then I'll form the rest of the squadrons. Why don't you talk to Abby? I'm surprised she didn't ask you already, I told her about it weeks ago."
Issac's words ring in your ears as you make your way down to Abby's room. You knock on her door for a second before you burst in.
Abby's shirt is off, her dark grey tank laid out on the bed. She's in the middle of drying her wet hair when she sees you come in. You can't help but stare- at her abs, at her white bra, at her unbuttoned dark green cargo pants- and ignore the flutter in your stomach.
You wrench your gaze away.
"Y/n?! What's wrong?"
Abby moves towards you, but you put a hand out. Her cheeks flush when she realizes what she's wearing, or the lack thereof, and bends down to grab her shirt.
"I got cleared from Medical! And uh.. Issac told me you and Manny are leading squads for the invasion against the Seraphites?"
You say, addressing the ceiling.
"Oh.." Abby says, trailing off. She slips on her tank top, stalling.
"I.. I only just found out," Abby lies, "I haven't decided who I want for the squadron yet-"
"You just found out?" You say, angry at her blatant lie. "Don't lie, I know Issac asked you weeks ago"
Abby's tone is defensive,
"Did you ask him behind my back?"
"When were you planning to tell me?" You shoot back, "Were you planning to tell me?"
Abby backtracks at your words, rambling. Her hands raise, like she's guilty of a crime.
"I was- I swear I was, I would have asked you to be on the squadron but your arm was still healing and-"
"Why didn't you just tell me? Forget picking me to be on your squadron, I don't care about that- were you just gonna leave and not tell me? Let me wonder if you fucking died or not?"
Abby's eyebrows raise in alarm, realizing her misstep at identifying what was making you so upset. She sits down, wiping her sweaty hands on her cargos.
"No- y/n, I promise I would have told you, I just didn't want to ruin the peace we were building- and honestly I'm sure I'll be fine, I've done tons of patrols-"
You shake your head-
"Be honest. This is just another way of pushing me away, isn't it? Have you been having nightmares again? Why can't you just be honest with me, what's going on?"
Abby's face breaks, the flicker of conflicting emotions clear to you for a moment. She warrs against touching you, but loses the internal battle. She pulls you closer to her position sitting on the edge of the bed, hands caressing the back of your thighs, unsure of if it's reassuring you or her.
"The nightmares... they never stopped." Abby takes a breath before continuing, "And.. Owen's missing, his patrol partner Danny was found dead," Abby explains, "I keep pushing you away because it hurts that I might lose you. What if Owen's dead? What if that was you next? I don't want to lose you."
Your eyes soften at her words,
"Abs, I'm sure Issac's got people out looking for Owen... and you won't lose me. I may not be as seasoned as you are, but I held my own just fine at the Seraphite outpost for months. Besides, if I go with you, you'll be there to watch my back."
You reach out and cradle her face, stepping a little closer, now stood directly between her legs.
Abby hugged you around the waist, hiding her face in your sweater, voice a little muffled.
"Issac said Owen is a traitor- that he killed Danny to protect.. a Seraphite. I told him it wasn't true, that there was no way he'd do that, that if I could just look for him I'd bring him back- but Issac refused. He wouldn't let me look for him."
Abby looks up at you, a mixture of grief and worry plain on her face. A stray tear rolls down her cheek and you brush it away.
"You're all I have left y/n." Abby whispers.
You crumble like putty in her hands, biting your plush lip as you look at her. Abby felt like she was going to explode.
This whole time, Abby's thought the way she felt about you was one-sided. Even when she was busy pretending to no longer care about you, even when she was staring straight head walking past you in the halls, even that damn school during your first mission together- a bit of her always longed for you.
She had tried to chalk it up to the fact she missed her best friend over the years, that she had a stupid girl crush in her teens, but these past few weeks only served to prove her wrong.
So, when you lean into her, Abby can't resist. She feels like she's lost everything- her dad, Owen- and you're all she has left. Can anyone blame her for acting on what she wants, just once?
Abby pulls you into her lap just as your lips crash into hers, both of you reaching for the other.
Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you kiss Abby, her large hands gently pressing you closer at the small of your back, and your hands tangle in her hair.
You can't get enough of her, hands pulling up her shirt, running your fingertips over her midriff as she shivers at your touch.
"Y/n? We don't have to do anything if you don't want to-"
You cut Abby off with a firm kiss as you push her over.
"Abs, I want to. I want you"
Abby grins at your words, and pulls you down into her for another kiss. Her hands guide your hips as you grind down on her, moaning into her mouth.
Abby thinks this is the closest she'll get to heaven, and flips you both over, her body pressed up against yours.
"I'm glad- I've wanted you for so long" Abby says, kissing down your neck, moving your shirt aside for easier access. You moan as she leaves hickies on your chest, her hands already undoing your pants, fingers dipping down into you.
"Oh baby, you're so wet for me"
Abby's voice is huskier than you've ever heard it, and you feel yourself get even wetter at her words. She rubs your clit with her thumb as she slips two fingers in, fucking you at a quick pace.
"Abs-" You choke out, hands reaching for her.
Abby smiles, love clear on her face.
"You sound so pretty y/n"
You pull at Abby's hair and she sucks at your nipples as she fucks you. You're sure there will be hickies all your neck come tomorrow.
"Fuck, Abs I'm gonna-"
"Come for me"
You come, shaking in her arms. Abby sucks her fingers clean, grinning at the brilliant shade of red you turn in response. You pull her in for another kiss before murmuring,
"Your turn"
Abby sheds her cargos, climbing back onto the bed. You slide your fingers through her wet folds, eliciting a sigh from her as you sink two fingers in, curling them to hit her gspot. You're maintaining a regular pace when Abby speaks up,
"That feels so good- but can you add another?"
You blink, but smirk as you obey her request. You speed up your pace, three fingers disappearing in her dripping cunt quickly, Abby's whimpers growing louder with every thrust.
"Fuck- y/n, I'm gonna come-"
Abby whimpers as she comes, growing tight around your fingers as she grips the headboard above your head.
You smile at her, sucking your fingers as payback for her earlier stunt, and she just laughs, rich and warm.
"I'm glad we both feel the same way about each other" Abby says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I think we always have" You admit, hands cradling her face before drawing her in for another kiss. Abby's eyes are relaxed, her grin wide. You continue, smiling softly-
"You won't lose me, Abs. You never have, and you never will."
✦ ─────────────────────────── ✦
#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson tlou2#tlou2#abby anderson the last of us 2#the last of us 2#Abby Anderson switch!#abby x reader#canonAbby!#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson angst#the last of us#the fireflies
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My Home : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz
summary: the journey of how your long distance relationship is reunited once again 🛬
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liked by charles_leclerc, ynusername and 892,742 others
carlossainz55: day 50 of missing my best friend and all the little ordinary things that she somehow made feel extraordinary ✨⛅️
42,068 comments
username1: it’s so impressive how these two make long distance work so well 🥹
ynusername: can’t wait to come home and be back with you again 💞
carlossainz55: @/ynusername just a few more days to go amor 🥺
username2: is it bad that I’m also counting down the days until they’re reunited again??
danielricciardo: you two are incredible managing to keep things going even though you’re so far apart 👏🏻
username3: carlos always knows how to break our hearts with a soft caption 💔
charles_leclerc: you’ve managed to do a really subtle job of letting us all know how much you miss her 😂
username4: the fact that he trusts her enough to cook with her too…
alexandrasaintmleux: if it makes you feel any better I also can’t wait for yn to be home 🥳
username5: can’t wait for these two to be back together again and blessing us with content!
landonorris: I keep telling you that we can go for coffee together but you don’t listen!
carlossainz55: @/landonorris there are certain things that just aren’t the same with you 🫢
username6: 50 whole damn days since we last saw the dream team side by side 😭
georgerussell63: and here I am thinking a week is a long time to be without my girl…
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liked by carlossainz55, lilyzneimer and 113,048 others
ynusername: day 64 of being away from your handsome face. can’t wait for beach days like these once again soon 🩵
15,897 comments
username7: sorry yn but do you expect me to be okay after posting that middle photo!?
charles_leclerc: btw he’s had a countdown going down on his phone everyday since you left 😂
ynusername: @/charles_leclerc embarrassed to say I’ve got one too, on my home screen as well 😊
username8: please someone just end their suffering already and reunite them 💕
maxverstappen1: pls come and get your man soon, fed up of dealing with his lovesick whining 😝
username9: how anyone could survive being away from that handsome face is beyond me 😂
landonorris: just to clarify, you’re talking about carlos’ handsome face…you never know, it could be mine 😇
ynusername: @/landonorris as happy as I am to see you soon, it’s definitely carlos’ 😂
username10: he really is the definition of a soft boyfriend isn’t he…
alexandrasaintmleux: cannot wait to see your beautiful face opposite me at a coffee table soon ☕️
username11: over two months they’ve been apart and now in a matter of days they’ll be together again, like a fairytale ✨
carlossainz55: home is ready and waiting for you, as are my open arms 🫂🥰
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 I can’t wait to be back in your hold again 😍
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 128,069 others
ynusername: race day -1, settling down for my last race away from home, you got this darling ❤️🏎️
17,492 comments
carlossainz55: sorry that I couldn’t bring home the win love, maybe next time when you’re back there with me 💞
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 ik you were secretly holding on so I got to be there in person ����❤️
username12: I can’t begin to tell you how happy this post makes me knowing you’ll be home soon 🥺
username13: now this is the kinda setup I need for race day!!
carmenmmundt: wish I was there to snuggle under that blanket with you
lilymhe: @/carmenmmundt I’ve already bagsied the blanket for movie night when yn’s home 😘
username14: notice how it’s carlos in the lead with yn watching too ☺️
charles_leclerc: thank god I don’t have to deal with his moping around without you for anymore races 🙌🏻
georgerussell63: petition for you to make hot chocolate for all of us when you’re back in the paddock too 😏
ynusername: @/georgerussell63 not a chance with how needy you guys are 😂
username15: it’s adorable how yn has always made sure to be watching the races even though she’s away with work
landonorris: I’ve lost count of how many times he’s told me that you’ll be at the next race, he’s so excited yn!!
username16: their interactions somehow melt my heart every single time they update 🫠
danielricciardo: on behalf of every driver, please save us from carlos telling us how much he misses you constantly asap
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and 1,583,293 others
charles_leclerc: my last few days of filling the large yn shaped hole that has been in my sweetie’s life ❤️🥹
104,587 comments
username17: I’m not ready to say goodbye to this pairing soon 😭
ynusername: thank you for taking such great care of my best friend leclerc ❤️
username18: charles has somehow become carlos’ emotional support system over the past couple of months lmao
danielricciardo: I also don’t think I’m stable enough for this bromance to end just yet…
username19: I’m sure yn is beyond grateful for the fact that carlos has had you by his side charles
carlossainz55: what would I do without my honey right by my side!?
username20: I’ve got high expectations for alex next time yn has to go on a work trip 😂
landonorris: guessing that carlando means nothing to you anymore then @/carlossainz55
carlossainz55: @/landonorris every time I came to you you just laughed in my face remember?? 🙄
username21: why do I get the feeling yn is coming home just to be a third wheel…
alexandrasaintmleux: can you boys just get a room and have done with it please 🤦🏻♀️
charles_leclerc: @/alexandrasaintmleux just tell us you’re jealous without telling us you’re jealous
username22: the way he just calls him sweetie as if that’s the norm 🥹
alex_albon: please come and meet me to pass on all your tips and advice for next year 😂
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liked by charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial and 129,573 others
ynusername: day 1 of being back in my favourite place on earth…home 🏡❤️
21,958 comments
carlossainz55: the house finally feels like a home again with you back inside 💕
username23: I can’t believe they’re finally back together again, this is so exciting!!
charles_leclerc: welcome home yn!! can’t wait to catch up with you this weekend!!
username24: apparently carlos was front of the line at arrivals making sure he got to her as quick as he could 😭
scuderiaferrari: we’re looking forward to welcoming you back into the garage this weekend ❤️
ynusername: @/scuderiaferrari can’t wait to catch up with the whole team and watch a race again!!
landonorris: I’m happy you’re reunited but I’m more happy that he’s finally gonna have a smile on his face again
username25: the way he carries her suitcase so effortlessly has me all kinds of giddy
georgerussell63: welcome back to monaco, we’ve all missed you so much!
username26: I’ve never been more excited for two people that I don’t even know…
maxverstappen1: he cancelled our game of padel today for this…I’ll let him off just this once 😂
ynusername: @/maxversrappen1 if you ask carlos he’ll say it’s definitely worth it 😂
username27: this means we finally get to see yn back at race weekend again 🎉
alexandrasaintmleux: I need to see you asap, missed you so much 💞
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liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55 and 124,068 others
ynusername: reunited with my second home, I forgot how good red looked on me. good luck to the best team on the grid this weekend, so happy to be back and cheer you on in person 🫶🏻☺️
22,604 comments
username28: damn we really did miss seeing you at a race weekend yn 🏎️
carlossainz55: you have no idea how happy I am to have you back with me again 💞
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 I bet it’s just as happy as I am to be back with you and the team again ✨
username29: hoping for a great result this weekend now that carlos has you back again
landonorris: patiently waiting for you to come and visit me, or do you plan on betraying me like carlos did??
ynusername: @/landonorris I promise I will come and see you at some point this week 🫂
username30: what are we supposed to do when red no longer is your colour next year??
danielricciardo: you must be pretty close to trying on every colour of the grid now 😂
carmenmmundt: um excuse me there better be a carmen plan somewhere in your schedule for this weekend 👀
username31: the camera somehow focused on you more than the cars in quali today 😂
oscarpiastri: it was lovely to finally meet you after hearing SO SO many stories about you!
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri I can only apologise for how much he talks about me ☺️
username32: the moment we’ve all been waiting for for so long 🤩
username33: please never leave us for a race weekend without you ever again!!
charles_leclerc: this has by far already been my most peaceful race weekend in a very long time all thanks to you!!
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liked by landonorris, ynusername and 1,048,271 others
carlossainz55: turns out my lucky charm really was the missing piece all along. thank you my love for coming back home and bringing me the luck I needed to be top of the podium again 🏆😍
89,473 comments
username34: does this mean that yn is never allowed to leave for a race ever again???
charles_leclerc: couldn’t be prouder of the race you put together this weekend, good job sweetie!!
username35: we’re all so proud of you carlos and your lucky charm 🫶🏻
scuderiaferrari: congratulations on such an amazing result carlos, the whole team is so proud of you ❤️🏎️
username36: he really was waiting for the moment for when yn could be there to celebrate too 😭
georgerussell63: that was incredible, saving your best for your girlfriend I see 😉
alex_albon: smashed it my friend, there was no catching you today 🚀
username37: this weekend has just reminded me just how much I adore these two humans!!
landonorris: buzzing to see you back where you belong on that top step mi amigo
username38: yn has to stick around forever now if she’s a lucky charm!
danielricciardo: it’s funny the effect a loved one can have isn’t it!? we all knew you were racing just to impress yn anyway 😂
username39: this weekend really couldn’t have gone more perfectly 😭
ynusername: I didn’t think you were being serious when you said you were waiting for me 😂
carlossainz55: @/ynusername a race win isn’t a win without you by my side ���
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one#f1 reaction#formula one imagine#carlos sainz smau#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz#formula x reader#formula 1 social media#formula one x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 smau#formula one smau#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 x you
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We had the most egregiously evil little pony horse when I was growing up. I know everyone says that. Ponies are one of the animals that truly understand how to commit crimes but she was really deeply atrocious. One time she tried to murder me. Her name was Fancy.
I feel I should slightly explain here. See, my parents bought two acres with a house and a barn and pasturage and went “We’re farmers now!” They had absolutely no idea what they were doing. And at a certain point along that journey my mom got her hands on a horse. Technically she was half pony half horse so she was this weird middle size.
Fancy belonged to a friend of hers and he showed her how to saddle Fancy. And that was it. That was all we knew about this horse. So my mom brings her home and saddles her and we decide to go for a ride on this new creature in our lives. But Fancy, being the savvy bitch she was, was far too canny for our dumb asses.
Her maiden ride went to my older brother and ended rather abruptly when the saddle slid completely sideways and my brother toppled off her, miraculously unharmed but unwilling to ever try again. This made me like Fancy somewhat, because I hated my brother.
Those familiar with horse trickery would have caught her ruse but Fancy had deliberately held her breath to make the saddle seem tight enough. But in stride she let the breath out, the saddle loosened, and my brother came toppling down. She planned that fuckup.
I was a bit more game, being a dedicated horse girl. I wanted to succeed where my loathsome brother had failed. Keep in mind: none of us had ever ridden. We had no idea what we were doing, and in the only defense I’ll ever make of that hoofed demon it was probably not pleasant to have a human flopping on her back like a sack of potatoes. But I paraded around in a circle until she scraped my leg against a fence post. I lasted longer than my brother but had to admit riding an animal radiating malice at you is not comfortable.
We didn’t really ride Fancy much after that. She was a decorative aspect to the fields. Sometimes I’d sit on her bare back while she was eating. Every so often she’d buck me off for assuming familiarity with her.
But Fany's coup de grâce took several months. Most of the pasturage had electric fence running along it to keep the livestock from testing the fences or getting a taste for freedom. My parents were constantly moving fence posts and reallocating land to different purposes which is how one of the major gates ended up with electric fence running over top. During a move the wire got left up from the last border and now it was strung over what should have been an open passage.
I was taking a ride on Fancy, living in a fantasy that I had any idea what I was doing. My mom was out working in the yard, and as she passed through she left the gate open, forgetting the wire hazard. You know who didn't forget?
Fancy.
She beelined for the open gate and I realized a second too late what her plan was. I hauled back on the reins with all my strength but she powered through, charging at the wire. If I'd caught on sooner I could have tipped forward and probably cleared it.
It was roughly chest height. But she was too savvy, keeping a slow pace right up until the passage, and I didn't have time to react. The thought of getting electrocuted sent me down into a terrified backward limbo, desperately trying to flatten myself along her back.
Her assassination almost worked. But instead of beheading me the wire caught under my chin, pressing back into my neck like a garrote. The only good news was that the wire wasn't live, but I was still in terrible danger. I squealed and wiggled and managed to twist my neck enough that the wire scraped over my face instead of pressing deeper. Once we were through Fancy stopped and turned to regard me, disappointed that her murder had failed. My neck was bleeding but my head remained attached.
My mother was absolutely terrified and I was pretty shaken myself. We unsaddled Fancy for the last time, as full on attempts on my life were a bit more than I was willing to bear for the sake of pretending to be a fantasy hero on an epic journey. My neck still has a faint scar from her homicidal tendencies.
Fancy got to remain a decorative horse for many years after that, free of our attempts to ride her. Her last torment was when my mother decided to try to breed her to achieve an animal that was less interested in murder.
But Fancy, true to form, brutally attacked the stallion sent to service her, even when hopped up on horny hormones. There would be no foals from Fancy, and her saga ended when we sold her to another unlucky soul.
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chemical override (8)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
a/n : I had to cut some scenes, explained in the notes below, to be saved for a bonus chap or drabble. Also, I altered the outline, and this story isn't ending with 9 as originally intended. Happy Chem Ov release day! Enjoy 🖤
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
The reader is left confused by Ewan's online stunt. If he really is content with keeping things casual, then why is he acting otherwise? Tensions reach their peak and Ewan is forced to face the consequences of the arrangement.
Day or night, Ewan will answer your call.
Even when you seem overly irate at him, greeting him with, “Ewan, what the fuck was that picture?”
He exhales haughtily, your tone almost bringing him some twisted sense of pleasure. Like a ‘this is what you get’ type of reaction. Was he 7 or 27? He’s been labeled sensitive before, but right now, he can’t muster the energy to care.
“Hello to you too, darling,” he says, smoke billowing out of his lips as he lounges on his apartment balcony in London. He had convinced himself that his worries about you and Matt vanished the moment he reaffirmed you as his to the world. In this day and age, in your profession, that can easily be accomplished by something called a hard launch. The first image he posted was supposed to do just that, but the internet has a fickle memory.
Several months had passed with nothing concrete circulating about you and Ewan, leading fans to readily accept the possibility that you were now dating Matt, prompted by the recent Deuxmoi feature. Granted, Ewan was spotted sneaking out of your building once, but what does that really prove?
Unfortunately, some others spun the story beyond recognition, protected by the anonymity afforded by their black mirrors. Aided with nothing but conjecture, they took it upon themselves to accuse you of infidelity.
All in all, it had been an eventful 24 hours. His impulsive act of possessiveness quickly turned into a mutable gossip headline.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” you reply immediately. “Why would you post that? I didn’t even know you took it in the first place.”
“I was doing you a favour. Don’t you see? People are under the impression that we’re still together.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Darling, you know it matters. It’s not a good look that you were spotted with someone else, you know what people are like,” he said.
“Oh, thank you so much for saving me from public ridicule, Ewan,” you say, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Since when do you care about what people say? You stay offline for this exact reason.”
“I know some mean things were being said about you.”
“I don’t care about any of that,” you insist, but you no longer sound sure.
“I’m doing you a favour,” he says. “If that picture remains, then it’s basically a ‘fuck you’ to all the people who accuse you cheating on me.”
“How can I cheat on you, Ewan? We’re not together.”
He bristles at that statement, the truth that sits unpleasant in the back of his mind. It hurts that you’re right. “You know what I mean,” he musters.
He hears nothing for a while, save for some shuffling in the background. Are you screaming your frustrations into your pillow? Is your fist raised at the skies, cursing his name? Tell him you hate him, and he will crumble. The three words will come out of him unrestrained. I love you, followed by, please don’t leave me.
But they already have spilled out of him, lost among his tearful pleas in the car. That night in September, he crumbled and he lost you anyway. What good would it do now? What difference would it make?
You finally speak, and he hears the frustration in your voice, even as it softens, “You’re so fucking infuriating.”
He can’t help but chuckle, the sound low and easy, “Hey, baby, you’re the one who called me.”
But your next words wipe the smile right off his face. “Ewan… this isn’t going to be the last of it. Sooner or later, we’ll have to make it known that we’re not as in love as everyone thinks.”
He frowns, not accepting that you’re pressing on the topic. “Why?”
“Your memory must be so twisted, Ewan,” you sigh, and he can picture you shaking your head, “Don’t you have that ironclad PR arrangement for your new film?”
His chest tightens. Leave it to you to be the bearer of harsh truths. “That… That might not happen.”
“Might not? Oh, for fuck’s sake, you didn’t quit, did you?”
“No, I didn’t quit,” he answers quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. “But can we not talk about the film? It’s not what matters right now.”
“But it does, Ewan,” you insist, the concern in your voice gnawing at him, “you’ve got this important thing, and I… what if I want out? What if I want something real?”
“Something… real.” It's like a punch to his gut, nightmare fuel, and he scrambles for a response. “Like what?”
“I don’t know… I just – ”
“This isn’t real enough for you?” There is no hiding the vulnerability in his voice now. It wouldn’t even work if he tried. “I… I’m not…”
“Ewan.”
You refuse to answer his question, and he thinks it’s for the best. He responds with his usual, “Darling.”
“What are you going to do about that picture?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” he finally decides.
“What?”
“I’ll get rid of it.”
“Okay. Good.” He can hear the relief in your voice, but he’s not done yet.
“But you can’t get rid of us,” he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. “I won’t let you.”
You groan, “Ewan… ”
His reply is curt, daring you to disagree, “Darling.”
He’s met with a long and uncomfortable silence, the air thick with everything left unsaid. He needs to break it. He needs a diversion. “Are you home?” he asks.
“Why?”
Even over the line, he can feel you pulling away, like your tether to him is loosening. He can’t let that happen again. “Are you still angry with me?”
“Why?”
“Why don’t I come over and we can hash it out?” His voice drops into that rhythm, the one he knows you couldn’t resist.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Maybe so,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips, “but I want you.”
He waits with bated breath, ready to run out the door at your word.
“I can’t believe you, Mitchell,” you sigh, your amusement at him bleeding through. It’s all he needs.
“See you soon, darling.”
All throughout the night, he doesn’t let you go. The moment he steps through your door, the tension from the call dissolves into something more primal, something neither of you can resist. Every touch feels like a desperate attempt to hold onto a love that might slip away, even if just for a moment.
Deep down, he knows, just as you do, that this can’t last. But as the night stretches on and he holds you close, he pushes that thought away, burying it in the recesses of his mind.
This is enough, even for now.
And so the song remains the same.
Clad in full costume, you tread the halls of the set, your posture noticeably straighter. Alyna’s attire has a way of transforming you, making each step purposeful, each glance sharp. The familiar weight of the prop weapons at your side makes you feel like a true fighter.
The Watford studio is buzzing with energy as the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot unfolds, the set alive with activity. It is one of the actual sets used for the show, so you feel right at home - Alyna Rivers in her natural habitat.
You weave through the crowd, careful to avoid Ewan, whose presence you can never shake off. You’ve never actually been together, in a big group setting such as this, since the beginning of the arrangement. The cast definitely knows something is going on, especially after Ewan’s last daring post on Instagram. Ewan hadn’t deleted the post – he simply deactivated his profile instead. You noticed it the next day when you tried to check, only to find his account gone.
The realisation left you conflicted. On one hand, it meant the picture wasn’t out there anymore. But on the other, it felt like a temporary fix, a way of avoiding the real issue rather than confronting it head-on. It was a pause, not an ending. The post still existed technically, suspended in some middle realm.
Since the cast is not privy to the sordid details of your arrangement, you think it best to keep interactions with him at a minimum. It had been constantly nagging at you, the thought of being with him but not really. Are you even allowed to hold his hand in front of your friends? Won’t that be crossing the line, breaking the rules that he set when he promised that, you won’t be his and he won’t be yours?
Alyna would never, not in a hundred years, allow herself to be put in this position. Especially not by Aemond Targaryen, of all people.
Just as you start to relax, Matt materialises by your side, a wide grin plastered on his face.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the fiercest bastard in the realm,” Matt says, looking every bit as Daemon with his Targaryen blacks and silver-blonde wig, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “Looking for your next conquest?”
“Careful, Matthew,” you shoot back, smirking. “Alyna’s got a list, and you’re edging pretty close to the top.”
“Good to know I’m on your mind, and as a top priority, nonetheless,” he teases, nudging you playfully. “But let’s be real, you’d miss me too much.”
You laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “Miss your terrible jokes, maybe.”
“You love my humour,” he insists. “I’m just saying, when you get tired of shooting arrows and swinging swords, let me know. I would like to take you out into the real world.”
You raise an eyebrow, cheeks heating up. He caught you off guard, so thank the gods for the sheer boldness that Alyna wears like skin, rubbing off on you as you stand in her shoes. “Is Daemon asking Alyna on a date, Smithy?”
“Depends,” he quips, a sly grin on his face. “Is it working?”
Before you can respond, Tom saunters over, clearly not one to miss out on the fun. “What’s this I hear? Matt finally working up the nerve to ask his on-screen sidekick out? Either I’m going mad or my five espresso shots are working.”
“Watch it, you,” you warn him playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Alyna’s still got some arrows left. And I’m not his sidekick.”
Tom smirks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re all talk.”
“Want to test that theory?” you challenge, raising an imaginary bow. Matt lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest as if struck.
“See? Deadly,” Matt says, winking at you. “So, what do you say? Coffee, next week? Somewhere far from dragons and politicking?”
You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “You know, that doesn’t sound half bad. As long as you promise not to reenact your last attempt at flirting.”
“Ouch,” Matt laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll do my best.”
As the photographer calls for everyone to take their places, you catch a glimpse of Ewan watching from a distance, his jaw clenched. The amusement in Matt’s eyes tells you he’s noticed too.
“You’re playing with fire, you know,” you whisper to Matt as you walk toward the set.
He grins, lowering his voice. “I wasn’t called the Rogue Prince for no reason. Besides, I am the blood of the dragon.”
“Sure you are,” you reply, but you are unable to ignore the thrill of Ewan’s intense focus.
The set buzzes with activity, cast members instructed to maintain their character’s demeanour for the photographs. The Greens go first, with their designated groupings, with Ewan and Gayle sharing a close-up shot. From where you stand behind the cameras, you can feel Ewan’s gaze locked on you, his presence heavy and distracting. After a while, you feel the need to step away, walking further to the side.
He remains silent, his focus clearly split between you and Matt, who keeps up a steady stream of clever remarks that make you laugh. Each one seems to darken Ewan’s mood further. The tension becomes so palpable that the director finally calls out, “Ewan, can we get your attention over here, please? You’re off your mark.”
Liv and Phia, still awaiting their cues, scurry over to where you stand. Liv leans in with a knowing smirk on her face, whispering in your ear. “Trouble in paradise?” Of course they’ve noticed Ewan’s odd behaviour.
“More like purgatory,” Phia quips, scrunching her nose.
“Something like that,” you murmur, eyes flicking over to Ewan, who’s now talking with Gayle and the director, looking over the shots taken, though his attention doesn’t stray far from you.
“Well, if you need an escape route, just say the word,” Liv offers, her voice full of concern.
“Do you want me to stare back at Ewan?” Matt cheekily offers, making you punch him on the shoulder. He only laughs openly, the sound free and uninhibited and just Matt.
“Thanks, guys,” you say, grateful for their friendship. But you know there’s no easy way out of this tangled mess. Not with the way Ewan is watching you and Matt like he’s one step away from bringing The Battle Above The Gods Eye to fruition.
Not long after, it’s time for the Blacks to step onto the set. As you move into position, you can feel Ewan’s gaze practically searing into your back. You fight the urge to laugh. Or grimace. Or shoot him a questioning look. The idea of Ewan in his full Aemond costume brooding over you is something indeed. The fangirl in you would have been sent reeling, if only he wasn’t so fucking infuriating.
You spot Liv, Tom, and Phia swooping in like a rescue squad with a mission to derail Ewan’s brooding. Phia, ever the animated theater kid, practically throws herself in front of Ewan, waving her hands like she’s recounting the world’s most thrilling tale.
“Ewan, did you catch that last shot of Helaena? Absolute perfection,” she says, grinning.
Tom saunters up, “Care to explain why you are standing here lurking like some stalker? You’re scaring the crew, mate.”
Phia gently nudges Ewan away from your line of sight. “Come on, Ewan. Let’s go for a smoke, it’s stuffy in here.”
Ewan’s clearly torn, but he’s powerless against his friends’ instigation. You bite back a laugh as you see him getting pulled in every direction. Your makeshift rescue team really needs to get their act together, but you love them anyway. The camera snaps away, and you focus on your poses. Knowing that Phia and the gang are running interference, you’re free to enjoy the moment and be Alyna as the photoshoot demands. You can save the enjoyment from watching him squirm later.
The photoshoot wraps up in the evening and everyone begins to gather their things, preparing to leave. Cast members chat, stretch, and discuss plans for the week.
“So, coffee next week?” Matt asks again, this time with a bit more seriousness.
“Yeah,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll see what I have scheduled then I’ll give you a call.”
“Great. I’ll even let you pick the place. Well, I’ll be off, love, I’m meeting my sister.” he says. Then, as if sensing something, he leans in closer. “But I’d better give you something to remember me by.”
Before you can react, Matt pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you warmly. The embrace lingers just a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he plants a soft, teasing kiss on your cheek. You catch the mischievous glint in his eyes. What is he up to?
As Matt releases you and heads out of the studio, you spot Ewan coming toward you, his presence all too familiar. He doesn’t say anything at first, and just stands there, his silence more charged than anything he could have spoken. His expression is stoic, but with the way his lips are pursed and his nostrils are flared, you would say that he’s bothered. He’s jealous.
“You seemed to be having fun,” he finally says, his tone casual, though the tension is unmistakable.
“Mmm, maybe I was,” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “Is there a problem?”
Ewan’s eyes narrow slightly, but he shakes his head. “Not at all. Just… nevermind. I’m sure you know, we’ve been booked for a magazine feature coming up in a few days.”
You freeze. “Yeah, I heard. What about it?”
“I’m just making sure that you’re okay with it, darling.”
“It’s work, Ewan,” you reply tersely. “We’ll deal with it.”
The tension breaks when Fabien swoops in, his flawless smile in place. “So, you’re stealing Matt away from me now?” he teases, and there’s an edge to his question. He’s still on the fence about you and Ewan, as he feels protective of his friend. But he’s aware that there’s no simple right or wrong here. You both hurt each other; that much is clear.
“Maybe,” you quip back, shrugging with feigned innocence. “He seems to like my company.”
Fabien laughs, though there’s a hint of something serious beneath it. “I’ll allow it – this time. But don’t forget, I’ve got dibs on him for the next round of drinks.”
As Fabien’s laughter fades, Ewan’s voice cuts through the lightheartedness. “I don’t think she needs your protection, Fabien.”
You can’t help but laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “I don’t need looking after, Ewan.”
“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice dropping to something darker. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop.”
There’s a challenge in his words, one that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, even as you know it’s a dangerous game you’re all playing. The fire between you smoulders, waiting for the next spark to ignite it. Is Matt that spark? No, you realise, both your actions will be enough to bring everything crashing down.
For now, you step away, leaving Ewan to stew in his misguided jealousy.
“See you around, Fabs,” you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you for our shoot, yeah?” you tell Ewan, making it clear that you’re not up for another dalliance in between.
He gets the hint, nodding tersely. But he doesn’t just let you go, not without making his mark, the thing he ached so badly to do in front of Matt, but couldn’t.
He briefly casts a glance around the room to make sure no one else is hovering, then presses a soft against your lips, leaving you no time to protest.
You’re exhausted. You’re frustrated. You shouldn’t give in to this, but you do. He feels right; he feels like home.
If home is a Motel 6 along the highway, ready to kick you out at a moment’s notice. Isn’t that just a knife in the gut?
You pull away after a second, and he smiles, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek.
Fabien shakes his head, a feeling of warmth rising within him at the sight of his two friends who clearly belong together. If only they would get their heads out of their asses.
You seem to remember his presence, pushing away from Ewan’s hold.
Fabien can only roll his eyes.
Only two days later, and you’re back to work once more. The British Vogue photoshoot has its focus on high fashion, set against the backdrop of an American West-inspired ranch. It doesn’t dwell on you and Ewan as celebrity figures, which is why you agreed to the shoot in the first place.
Walking onto set, you’re struck with awe at the dramatic tableau of worn wooden fences, hay bales, and lasso props. But your amazement reaches its absolute peak when Ewan emerges, in full cowboy attire.
Fuck. You bite your lip, and you can almost hear your heart pounding. Unbeknownst to you, the crew notices your flustered state, but they think it’s just you admiring your boyfriend as expected.
He meets your eyes from across the room, then saunters over to you, that characteristic smirk set on his lips. Your breath catches in your throat, when he tips his hat and greets, “Howdy, darling.”
“Why, hello, good sir,” you try to match his tone, giving a playful curtsy.
“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, and you’re sure if he’s referring to the photoshoot or the possibility that the two of you might have to play at being a couple as these people expect. You opt to believe the former.
As the shoot progresses, the tension between you and Ewan becomes almost unbearable. You’re clad in an elaborate, haute couture cowgirl outfit. A sculptural corset made of brown leather, with a tailored vest on top. A floor-length skirt with a high slit reaching your upper thigh, dyed to a rich gradient of burnt sienna. Knee-high heeled boots. A leather choker with a central silver pendant rests on your neck, dangling provocatively.
For the first set of shots, both of you casually lean against the fence. Ewan poses beside you, watching you with an intensity that is both electrifying and maddening. His gaze is hungry, almost predatory, and you almost forget about the elaborate set around you. Thankfully, each blinding flash of the camera pulls you back into the real world. Keeping you from riding a cowboy right down on the hay bales. How does the saying go? Save a horse…
The photographer snaps you out of it, as he shouts a direction for you to pose solo with a lasso draped over your shoulder. Ewan steps out of the frame, leaning against a wooden post, his eyes locked on you as if he’s trying to memorise every detail of this look.
“Alright, let’s try a more dramatic pose,” the photographer instructs. “Maybe something with a bit more attitude.��
You adjust your stance, twisting slightly to emphasise the curve of your waist. As you do, you momentarily meet Ewan’s gaze. His eyes are dark with something like desire, and his lips are set in a grim line.
“I can’t even articulate what you’re doing to me, darling,” Ewan murmurs in your ear, when the photographer calls for a 5-minute break. Set assistants run onto the scene, adding and rearranging props for the next round of shots.
You smirk, “Speak for yourself, Mitchell.”
“Mmm,” he hums, satisfied.
The next shot calls for Ewan to stand behind you, his arms wrapped around your figure, the position as intimate as can be. Each click of the camera seems to heighten the tension.
His breath is warm against your neck, the sheer proximity electrifying, causing your entire body to heat up underneath the layers of leather and cotton. His heartbeat matches yours, quick and erratic. His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible over the camera clicks. “You’re making this incredibly difficult, you know.”
You tilt your head slightly, “Difficult how, exactly?”
“Keeping my hands off you is the hardest part of my day,” he replies, his voice husky with restrained desire. “It’s like you’re daring me to break every rule we’ve set.”
That you’ve set, you want to correct him, but you bite your tongue. A bitter chuckle escapes you, the sound a mix of frustration and amusement. “So what if I am,” you tease, bending back slightly into his embrace, feeling his body heat against yours. He welcomes your closeness, leaning into you.
For the next few minutes, it’s a game of seduction and denial, every movement aimed at tormenting the other. The crew, blissfully unaware of the full extent of the tension, is generally pleased about the atmosphere of the shoot. In their minds, you and Ewan are simply leaning into your real-life chemistry and romance.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Little do they know.
In the brightly lit break room, the hum of distant chatter from the set fills the silence between you and Ewan. He’s seated across from you, his gaze unyielding as you check your phone.
His voice breaks the quiet, his tone deceptively casual but laced with curiosity. “Doing anything tomorrow?”
You look up, meeting his eyes, before tentatively answering. “Actually, yes.”
His brows lift, his curiosity piqued. “Care to elaborate, darling?”
You shift in your seat, trying to mask the tension in your voice. “I’m supposed to grab coffee with Matt.”
“Matt.” Ewan’s voice is low as he repeats the familiar name. “Just the two of you?”
“Yes.”
There’s a pause, his expression morphing from curiosity to something more intense. “Is it… is it a date?”
“I think that was implied,” you reply, your tone deliberately nonchalant as you try to maintain control of the conversation.
“Really.” His voice tightens, his response loaded with a mix of disbelief and frustration.
You notice the obvious shift in his demeanour, the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. “Why the long face?”
Ewan’s hands ball into fists on the table, his composure breaking. “Fuck, I—”
Before he can finish, you cut him off, your own frustration simmering. “Forget it. Don’t answer that.”
“No, just…” His voice falters, his emotions raw. “I don’t want you to go.”
You blink, taken aback by his admission. “Are you being serious right now, Mitchell?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Ewan’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of hurt and possessiveness. A concoction borne out of circumstances of his own making. Or had it been you, last September? You can no longer keep track of whose fault reigns over everything. The truth of the matter is, you love him. Of course you do.
But nothing feels right anymore.
“I don’t know,” you retort, your voice rising slightly, “I hope you are. Because you can’t just say that to me.”
“But I am.” His tone is resigned but unwavering. “I don’t want to watch you with someone else.”
The words hit you like a cold splash of water, freezing you in place. “Then I’m ignoring what you just said. This isn’t fair to me.”
His face falls. “You can’t just ignore it. It’s not that simple.”
You stand up abruptly, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Well, I don’t see how this conversation is going to help anything.”
He stands as well, his expression pained and conflicted. “I just – damn it. Wait a minute, darling – ”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Look, if you’re going to act like this, then maybe we need to rethink – ”
“No,” he interrupts, his voice desperate. “I don’t want to rethink anything. I just… I need you to understand that this isn’t easy for me.”
The room falls silent, both of you breathing heavily. The unresolved problem lingers, the weight of it all hanging heavily between you.
You take a final look at him, feeling a mixture of anger and longing. “I’m gonna go get some air.”
Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk out of the break room, the doors closing sharply behind you. Ewan is left alone, frustration clear on his face as he stares at the empty space where you once stood.
Ewan is sprawled on his couch, a half-empty bottle of beer resting on the coffee table. The warm light of a lamp casts a muted glow over his apartment, which is littered with the remnants of his evening alone. He has seen the latest headlines about you and Matt, enjoying a date in Hyde Park.
Hyde Park Outing: Is it Love in the Air for these HBO Actors?
He tries to ignore them all, but the nagging bitterness won’t let him be. The images and headlines keep flashing in his mind. Unable to shake the frustration, he sends a quick message to Tom and Phia, inviting them over for a casual distraction.
A short while later, they arrive, carrying a six-pack and a box of takeout. Ewan greets them with a tired smile, which barely masks his despondence.
“Evening,” he says, opening the door wider to let them in. “Glad you could make it.”
Phia gives him a sympathetic look as she steps inside, setting down the food. “We came prepared. Looks like you could use a break.”
Tom follows, his eyes scanning the cluttered room. “And some beers. We figured you might need them.”
Ewan leads them to the living room, where they settle onto the couch. As they crack open the beers and start munching away, the initial wariness fades, replaced by casual conversation. His two guests are careful not to broach the topic of you, but they know it’s inevitable. Soon enough, it will be time to get down to business, which is essentially what they came for. They’re the rescue squad after all.
“So… we have a feeling we know what’s been eating at you,” Tom says, taking a swig of his beer. “We saw the headlines, mate. Don’t even deny it. It’s gotta be rough.”
Ewan grimaces, his hand gripping the bottle a little tighter. “Yeah, the headlines. they’re , uhhhh … oh, what does it even matter?”
Phia raises an eyebrow, glancing at him. “Come on, kid. It matters. You can talk to us. We weren’t cast as siblings for no reason.”
Ewan lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “We have this thing, this casual thing. But seeing her with someone else... it’s like a punch to the gut.”
Tom nods sympathetically. “I get it. I’m sure it was fun at first, but – ”
Phia’s concern wins over her, leading her to interject, “Ewan, maybe you need to bloody talk to her. Figure out where you both stand.”
Ewan shakes his head, though his expression softens, and his unmistakable vulnerability shines through. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to see where that leads.”
Phia reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Ask her why she ended things last year.”
“I know why – ”
“Just… ask her again? You might find out more than you expect.”
Tom waits a beat before butting in with a light-hearted chuckle, “It’s better than letting it fester. At least you’ll know where you stand. You owe her that much.”
Ewan huffs out a laugh, the bitterness in his voice giving way to reluctant amusement. “Maybe. I just don’t want to make things worse.”
“Mate,” Tom shakes his shoulder, “look at the state of things. How in the bloody hell can you make it even worse? I don’t think it’s possible.”
Phia just smirks at his boldness, but she agrees, nodding to Ewan, “He’s right, you know.”
Tom raises his beer in a mock toast. “To Aemond and Alyna.”
“Oh, you absolute rascal,” Phia laughs in disbelief.
But they all clink their bottles together, the gesture a small comfort amidst the confusion. The evening winds down after an hour, and after they depart, Ewan’s mind is still consumed with thought.
Day or night, you will answer Ewan’s call.
“Hello?” your voice patches through after a few rings.
“Darling,” he says, “I think we need to talk.”
💌 next chapter
Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )
Some notes in the margins...
I did have Matt and the reader's date written out, but I thought it seemed superfluous for this one. Maybe in a bonus chapter?
In the next one: 'THE talk', Ewan dealing with stuff for his film, whippets, interviews, MORE headlines... will they finally resolve everything?
Also, if yous want, I can give a glimpse on what would have happened if Matt got the BV shoot instead :)
The end isn't even within reach. More angst to follow. How can there be more, you ask? Let's hash it out below 😉💙
#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell imagine#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#hotd#chemical override#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen imagine
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ticci toby nsfw headcanons 😭🤲 can’t express how much i love your hc’s bro its so good 🥹💗 pls keep cooking
☆Ticci Toby Relationship HCs☆
CW: NSFW, f!reader
THANK YOU SO MUCH! This ask single-handedly brought me out of my writing slump. I went ahead and added SFW dating HCs as well, a little bonus 🙌 Also I’m in a leg brace from soccer so I’m stuck in bed.
•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•
★SFW★
- This guy has got a LOT on his mental plate, be prepared for that.
- He is 100% a friends to lovers type of guy. He’s not easily trusting, so that relationship really has to be built up.
- When he does have a crush on someone he beats himself up about it because he feels so stupid for thinking you’d ever like him back.
- Moving onto actually dating him, he is so so so insecure. Lots of reassurance is needed, but if you’re able to get through to him he eventually realizes you actually like him.
- Crazy touch starved. In the first few months of dating he’s super unsure of if he can kiss you or even put his arm around you, he’s HORRIFIED of crossing any boundaries and you leaving. You’ll probably have to make the first move.
- He most likely won’t be the one to ask you out. If you’ve known eachother for a while and he’s feeling a little confident there’s a possibility, but in his mind he’d rather stay friends and get to see you rather than get rejected and you not talk to him anymore.
- LOVES going on dates with you, but he’s a ball of anxiety. It should be easy to cool him down and let him know you’re enjoying it, he’s just so worried about if you’re happy or not.
- Usually thinks going on walks or sitting on a curb together is like the perfect date, ESPECIALLY in the fall. He keeps an old camera on him that he got from Brian so he can make little home videos and capture the moments you spend together.
- Picks up cool leaves, glass shards, or other things left in the forest and makes sure to show you.
- He’s actually not an awful cook. He’s a fast learner in pretty much every aspect and he already knows the basics. His mom taught him when he was young how to make some baseline German dishes, and this man can WHIP that shit up.
- Once you two are to the point in your relationship where you can cuddle, he is ALL OVER YOU. Especially when it’s raining/ thundering out and you two can lay in bed together. Since he overheats easily due to his CIPA, in the colder seasons you’ll have to leave the window open so he can stay cool.
- After seeing how his dad treated his mom, he has a pretty good grasp on how to treat a partner. At times he can fly off the handle, especially with his bipolar disorder, but afterwards he breaks down and apologizes. If at any point you even SEEM like you don’t like him anymore he gets defensive, it makes him very standoffish or snappy.
- Won’t shut up about you after you start dating. Not in a rambling way, but he finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. He doesn’t meant to, but how could he go without telling someone you’d like the flower he just walked by?
•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•
✩NSFW✩
- VIRRRRGINNNNNNNN.
- I mean VIRGIN virgin, like this guy has had NO activity. No first kiss either. All the knowledge he has is from porn, so he’s completely clueless. If you’re both inexperienced you’ll just have to persevere.
- He’s the kind of person to get turned on looking at a picture of you fully clothed, he’s just so in love with you.
- Before you two start dating he’s 100% taking candid pictures of you or finding your instagram posts and jacking off to them.
- Massive bottom. He puts out a front for a WHILE before you’ll be able to realize he’s not a top, he doesn’t want to look like a sissy. If you suggest being on top he’s BLOWN AWAY. Acts like he’s just doing whatever you want, but afterwards you definitely realize he’s been waiting for it.
- Sensitive as hell. He’s a loud one, but again he doesn’t want to look weak or not masculine enough. He tries to hold his moans and whimpers back and grunt instead, but if you do it just right he’s a whimpering, whining, PANTING, mess. Kiss his neck? He’s rock hard. Even if you’re just giving him a hickey he’s whimpering and bucking his hips into you.
- Tits man 100%. Doesn’t matter what size, the fact that they’re there is enough. When you’re on top of him he prefers for you to face him so he can watch them bounce. When he’s on top he’s usually in missionary so he can still see them.
- Hair pulling kink, specifically his. He can’t feel the pain, but the yank drives him CRAZY.
- Big on oral. Giving or receiving, he doesn’t care. If he’s giving he prefers for you to sit on his face, but he’d never admit that.
- His favorite place to do it is tight spaces. Closets, cars, narrow alleyways. Especially if it adds to the thrill of getting caught.
- STAMINA. He cums crazy fast, but he’s definitely able to make up for it with how many rounds he can go. Even if he came a few minutes ago, it’s already up and ready to go again.
- Likes to have music playing in the back while you do it. He probably already made a playlist the second you started dating, but if you ever want to choose the music he doesn’t mind.
- At first he’s self conscious about his abilities, but after some time and seeing how good you feel he’s a cocky motherfucker. Slyly grinning and looking at you all worn out after a few rounds boosts his ego to the moon.
- Dim lighting all the way. He wants to be able to see you, but he feels too exposed when it’s too bright.
- Not completely opposed to a threesome, it depends on who it is. He’s more protective than possessive, so if he trusts the person enough he’d be okay with it. If it had to be anyone in the mansion it would probably be Cody or Liu, but he’d make sure you’re okay with it.
- Rabid horny teenager.
•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•
#creepypasta#headcanon#hcs#headcanons#slender mansion#slenderverse#ticci toby#hoodie marble hornets#masky marble hornets#slender proxy#ticci toby hc#ticci toby headcanons#ticci toby x reader#toby rogers#toby rogers x reader#ticci toby smut#jeff the killer x reader#jeff the killer headcanons#jeffery woods#jeff the killer#kate the chaser headcanons#natalie creepypasta#ej creepypasta#creepypasta jtk#clockwork creepypasta#masky creepypasta#creepypasta au#clockwork#slenderman#helen otis
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A very big thank you
I posted this on Patreon, but really wanted to share it here as well:
Post-show life begins
For a long while now I’ve been getting up at 4.30 or 5am, grabbing myself the first coffee of four, and then coming to sit at my desk.
I open up the assembly cut of the newest TSV episode.
I listen to it, I try and pin down which scenes I need to be going back over today. I try and push through the entire morning without a break because when the momentum stalls, that’s what kills your release schedule. (I also worry endlessly about just how much of my hair is falling out, and how spending 12 hours a day wearing headphones could be contributing to that.)
Today was different. I still woke up early - it’s a hard habit to shake off, and probably a useful one going forward. But I didn’t go to my desk, and I didn’t put my headphones on.
I went to the rocking chair we bought for our son when he comes, and I sat there - gently swaying and trying not to spill my coffee all over it, because for some reason it’s fucking beige - and looked out over the city skyline.
I slugged back my coffee surrounded by all the stuff we’ve panic-bought for the baby, and I got to take all of it in - washcloths and the changing table and romper suits - with a sudden focus and a clarity and a rising excitement that I really hadn’t allowed myself to feel until today, because until today the work was still unfinished and there was still much left to be done.
All at once I felt very free, and fully sated, and happy and proud for everything that’s coming next.
There’s so much to feel grateful for from the past three years of working on this show. But what’s probably going to sit with me the most is being able to arrive at that moment and those feelings today, - and we have all of you incredible people to thank for that.
Not just in terms of listenership or financial support, although that’s been truly invaluable and a lifeline for us that’s enabled us to actually make the show - but also your enthusiasm, your passion, your jokes and comments and everything that’s helped to keep us motivated and working on it.
So - with as much feeling as words can convey, thank you so, so much for everything.
What’s coming next, in rough order
#1: Parentdom is going to take over our lives for a while! I also want to write the final Patreon episode commentaries in the next few days, while I have the time and the clear memories. #2: The next thing we’ll organise will be the post-season Q&A (we’d also like to do some kind of off-camera cast party if we can make schedules work, just to say thank you to our amazing VAs and celebrate with them). Please do ask us questions! #3: We have long-unfinished commitments to the Patreon which I need to complete: the last two episodes of So Long, Good Luck, and rounding off Sid Wright’s story. As ever, huge thank-yous for your patience with these; they’ve just been impossible to polish off while also working on the main show so much. #4: Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time is the possibility of going back to Season 1 and redesigning it from scratch to try and bring it closer in style to S2 and S3. We have the raw audio files - some of the mic quality will just be rough no matter what, but we can certainly try. This is something I want to be conscientious and careful about; I very much want to respect the sound design work that’s already taken place, and ensure we’re not overriding anything. But I do know that the initial quality still sometimes puts new listeners off; we were learning a lot about direction and mastering from scratch, and our designers were working with limited budget and a total lack of plugins, so there’s simply a lot more we can achieve now. (This would also be a good opportunity for me to finally rework the transcripts, another fallen hurdle). #5: A few months back, we were contacted by a literary agent in NYC who was interested in us adapting the show into a series of novels. There’s a long road ahead to actually get published, but I'm thrilled to say that I have signed with them and I’m really excited to hopefully start work on the first book once I’ve settled into dad-dom. I’ll need to check what’s possible, but if it doesn’t interfere with any contract condition I’d obviously love to share excerpts on here as it’s written. #6: Then there’ll also be another larger audiodrama project - we’ve spoken about the different possibilities before! Excited to get started on our final choice.
Just one last word about endings
God, endings are scary. Because endings are impossible.
How many serialised stories actually end in a way that’s received unequivocally well? People yelled at The Sopranos for its ambiguity and open-endedness. People criticised Breaking Bad for treating Walt too sympathetically at the end and relying on a generic mob of snarling Nazis to act as his final foe.
Endings are either too pat and neat, or too inconclusive to be satisfying, or too surreal and dreamlike, or they simply make what feels like the wrong choices for the characters we care about. We’re all caught in that barbed wire, creators and audience alike, weighed down by the baggage of what’s come before and we've already spent so much time anticipating the infinite possibilities of how it could all turn out - it’s like we can’t get free of the story that’s trying to end.
And the beautiful thing about these longform, iterative works is that they insist upon becoming completely ungovernable. No matter how much of a planner the creator claims to be, how much prepwork they carry out - they were never really in control. There’s spontaneity and surprises and dead ends and beautiful distractions that come spilling out along the way (I was baffled and delighted to learn that people really - at the end of the show, with such limited time to spare - wanted to find out what had happened to Eddie*).
So they can’t end. Not really. There’s too much wonderful mess in them to ever be reasonably disentangled.
And, of course, for every ending people remember with frustration or dissatisfaction, there’s another hundred endings that nobody remembers at all, because we lost our enthusiasm along the way and it feels better to keep going back to the start and avoiding the slow decline. (Who the fuck remembers how the umpteenth X-Files reboot ended? What increasingly tired post-modern antics was Alan Moore getting up to in the final League of Extraordinary Gentlemen books?). I really just didn’t want the show to end up in that latter category.
All of that probably sounds like I’m warding off criticism about the show's ending, but for me it’s actually been the opposite.
For an ending which is all about narrative dissatisfaction, and failed potential and missed opportunities, and how we need to come to terms with the lack of existential fairness and certainty and narrative control in our lives and keep ploughing forward all the same for as long as we possibly can, I’m massively stunned at just how positive the reception has been on here and elsewhere, and that’s something I’m actively having to process, because I think I was fearfully anticipating much more pushback.
But, look - the Eskew finale was originally quite poorly-received and then people came back around to it over time. So I’m not going to pat myself on the back too hard, because maybe it’ll ultimately be the opposite with this show, and that’s OK. For 200 years everyone was convinced King Lear was improved by having everyone survive at the end and get married. Endings take time to settle into their final condition.
For now, I am incredibly relieved that the ending we chose seems to have landed for most people, and I’m incredibly grateful for the lovely messages we’ve got about it and for the trust in us that you’ve all shown throughout the story.
So, yeah, let’s end with another thank you, because that’s what I feel so deeply and so forcefully at this point.
Thank you so much again, and speak soon.
Jon
*My take? We’ve established that the guy is in some kind of blue-collar job and has been pushed into constant overtime due to the reduced workforce. We’ve seen that the so-called ‘national holiday’ doesn’t actually rescue workers from their commitments. So I personally imagine that Eddie was working during the parade somewhere on the city outskirts, and is alive and well.
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Celebration Baby, Literally! (CL16) [Blind Items AU]
(Part 6 in the Blind Items AU [can be read separately])
Summary: 8 months after Charles Monaco win, the fans get to see just how hard he celebrated
“Ohhhhhhh mate, you have been outed!” Pierre laughes as he shoves his phone into Charles’ face.
“Pierre, I cannot read when you put the screen in my eyes like that, back up” Charles responds as he shoves his longtime friend. Like many of the other victims of the ‘F1 Blind Items’ account, Charles’ face drains of color as he sees what they are saying. While there is some truth to the rumor, it still is far from correct. “Ah! Merde, they got so much wrong, mate!”
“What's wrong, honey?” Charles’ girlfriend calls from the other room where she is sitting with Pierre’s girlfriend. The couple decided to join the Gasly house for a nice dinner, although reading the post surely made Charles lose his appetite.
Charles and Pierre look at each other as they realize she heard them. The one thing the post got right was that his girlfriend was very pregnant with what is most likely a post-win conceived baby. There was no reason to stress her out when she was so offline it would take a while for her to learn about the rumor, giving Charles enough time to convince her to go public and try to make this into the smallest problem possible.
“Nothing, baby. I love you” He responded as he made a ‘stay silent’ motion at Pierre.
“Um okay, love you too?” was all she replied, not believing in the slightest that this was nothing.
It didn’t help that for the rest of the night, Charles was off in his own world, thinking of how he was going to execute his terribly thought out plan. But she wasn’t going to interrogate him on it, at least not again, she had already asked him multiple times if he was okay and if he wanted to talk but he would always answer with a “I am fine, beautiful. How can I not be when the woman I love most is pregnant with our child.” While it was charming, she still wasn’t convinced he was okay after all.
After hours of deliberation, as he sat outside the bathtub while his girlfriend relaxed in it, he finally spoke his mind.
“We should tell people” is the best he came up with after hours of thinking.
“Tell people what?”
“About the baby”
“We told people about the baby”
“I mean like everyone, we should go public.”
She turned her neck to fully face him at that.
“Where is this coming from? Why now?” She asked.
“No reason”
“You are a shit liar, Leclerc, tell me why.”
“People know”
“What people know?” She asked. God, he was awful at explaining things.
“Everyone.”
“Then why would we need to tell them?”
Right when he was about to reply, he closed his mouth. Why would he need to tell people? While the Blind Items account had become a reliable source as they had yet to be wrong, there wasn’t any reason to actually address the issue, at least not till the baby was born, which would happen during winter break.
“...I guess we don’t need to. It's just- there is this account that posts rumors about the drivers that so far have always been true, but one came out about us and it isn’t really that correct, I just thought we should squash it.”
“What did they say that wasn’t correct?” She questioned.
“They implied we only got together because of the baby, and that we weren’t dating before I uh, knocked you up.” The ‘very public breakup’ the post referred to, was an actual breakup that happened a year prior to the world knowing. It was another very private relationship, as Charles became more famous and ‘sought after’ he liked to keep relationships from the limelight till they got serious in order to protect his girlfriends. But when his ex had found out just how serious things were with his current girlfriend, she wanted to bring it to light in order to get her 15 minutes of fame, which ended up being more like 2 minutes. As terrible as it was, once the public knew she had no connection to Charles anymore, they lost interest in her.
After requesting he pull up the post, Charles handed his phone to his girlfriend so she could read.
“Is this what you are worried about? The part about me getting a ring for a ‘push present’? Don’t want me getting any ideas?” She joked. They had been together long enough and were about to have a baby, so the idea of getting engaged took up about 65% of the monégasque’s thoughts, the rest being about her and the baby, maybe 5% in total was devoted to F1.
“Ah no, my love, you know that is not it. Although an engagement ring would already happen even without our baby, so I will get you something else as well as a present” He said as he kissed her shoulder, then her neck, then her cheek, finally landing on her lips.
“We don’t need to say anything, let us enjoy the privacy for a while longer. Wouldn’t it be better to go into the upcoming season with a baby and a financée?” She asked.
She was right, why not make an even bigger entrance by saying nothing and letting the rumor die down, in order to enjoy the bliss of privacy for a little while longer.
“That sounds wonderful, mon amour. Absolutely perfect.”
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video calls & sick days ― s. kiyoomi
tags manager!reader, gn!reader, fluff, sickfic, post-timeskip
notes wc is 1.5k, thanks for 2 hunnid enjoy :p
over the few months you’ve been sakusa’s manager, you’ve ingrained daily video calls into your schedule.
it wasn’t hard to tell that sakusa thought calls were inconvenient, to say the very least. the slight tick of his eye and the clench of his jaw were difficult to miss, even if he bit his tongue in the name of professionalism. you understood, really. no one would want to be disrupted early in the morning, especially when they’re someone who has a carefully crafted routine like sakusa — which is why you insisted on aligning these calls with his schedule, instead of deciding for him. it seemed to satisfy the spiker enough, seeing that he appeared much less tense almost immediately after.
however, you’re starting to regret not bringing it upon yourself to dictate a time — especially when the back of your eyes are burning and it’s hard to breathe because it’s six in the morning and you’re sick.
“good morning, sakusa,” you groggily greet. you internally cringe at your voice, scratchy and making your throat hurt. you’ve opted to have your camera off just this once — you prefer to keep it on, as it makes these exchanges a little more humane, but you think your appearance is far too unfortunate for someone else to see right now. your hand runs through your hair, and you wince when your fingers get caught in a knot.
sakusa’s camera is on, however, and the sound of pots clinking against one another fills the air around you. when he re-enters the frame, he’s focused on the meal he’s making, only mumbling a short greeting back.
you take a swig of water and clear your throat, hoping that it helps with the ache, before beginning with sakusa’s schedule for today.
“let’s begin,” you start, “you’re free until 1 this afternoon, where you have a promotional shoot with hinata, bokuto, and miya. it should last until 3 or 4, depending on how long they take to prepare the four of you.” your words are curt and straightforward, and you hope that sakusa doesn’t notice. typically, you’d attempt small talk with him, but you’re currently trying to savor the last of your voice.
“knowing miya, he’ll probably manage to drag it until 6 in the evening,” the spiker grumbles, and you can’t help the raspy (and tired) laugh that leaves you. a cough follows soon after, and if sakusa wasn’t able to tell that you were sick before, he definitely can now.
you watch as his eyes flit to his phone, a questioning look on his face. they roam around the screen for a moment, and you nervously wait for his reaction.
“are you sick?” sakusa bluntly asks. his eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s stopped stirring whatever he’s preparing on the stove. despite the fact he can’t even see you, you abashedly look away from your screen.
you’re tempted to deny it, but you know it’d be a futile attempt anyway. so, you relent, sighing out an affirmation. “yes, i am. i won’t be present at the shoot today, but you can expect the other three managers to be there. if you need anything, you can call me.”
“no, i’ll be fine, but you shouldn’t be doing anything if you’re sick.” sakusa replies, turning away from his phone to move his food onto a plate. selfishly, you allow your eyes to rack down the wide expanse of his back, appreciating the way his compression shirt hugs his figure. it becomes clear that you were staring for too long, though, when sakusa turns back around, plate in hand and waiting for your response.
you have it in you to feel the slightest bit embarrassed, even if he can’t see you.
“sorry,” you sheepishly murmur, “i can assure you that i’ll be okay, sakusa. i’ll be working from home today.”
“again,” he says, voice a tad harder than it was before, “you shouldn’t be doing anything if you’re sick. even if you’re working from home. is that everything i have on my schedule for today?”
you’re not sure if sakusa’s being so insistent out of genuine worry for your health, or if he’s concerned that you’ll get him sick if you come to work in your state. “sakusa, i promise you that i’ll be okay in a day or two. and even then, i’ll make sure to wear a mask,” you say, assuming sakusa’s worried for his health. “moving on, though, i believe that’s all on your schedule for today. tomorrow you have your shoot with calvin klein, but i’ll remind you tomorrow morning. you have some pr, too. i believe a brand sent you pickled plums, which are your favorite, if i remember correctly?”
you watch as sakusa shakes his head, sighing through his nose. “i’m not worried about me. i know that you wouldn’t get me sick. but if you keep on working instead of resting, you’re going to get worse, and you’ll be out for longer.”
you’re beginning to become slightly irritated — a mix of tiredness, sickness, and sakusa’s nagging (even if it comes from a good place) beginning to annoy you. regardless, you try to pay no attention to it. once you’re done with this phone call, you’ll rest for another hour or two before doing whatever work you can from home.
“i’m glad that you’re not worried about yourself, but as i said earlier, i’m sure i’ll be fine. i can take care of myself, sakusa,” you curtly reply, hoping that the spiker leaves the topic alone.
thankfully, it seems like he does, because he relents and asks you to give him the pickled plums later on in the week. a few minutes later you’re greeting sakusa goodbye and hanging up, slouching into your mattress and performing a futile attempt at staving off the ache in your temples.
you wake once again hours later to the incessant sound of your doorbell ringing. it’s certainly at least mid-morning, considering the way sunlight is filtering into your room, making your eyes ache.
you stumble over to the door, paying no mind to your appearance and throwing the door open. to your surprise, sakusa is standing in your doorway, impatiently waiting for you to let him in, a plastic bag in hand.
“sakusa?” you gape. if you were being completely honest, he was the person you were least expecting to see right now — especially because you’re sick. he’s staring at you incredulously, like it’s not insane for him, out of all people, to willingly be around someone else while they’re ill.
“you’re sick, right? i have soup and medicine,” he grumbles, “are you going to let me in or not?”
you blink, before barely coming to your senses enough to open the door for him to step through. he does so immediately, taking long strides towards your dinner table to set the food down. then, he turns to you, and you have to resist the urge to curl into yourself. your head is pounding, you can hardly breathe through your nose, and you’re sure you look absolutely terrible right now. fuck professionalism, i guess, you sarcastically think. you’re not sure if you’ll ever allow yourself to live this moment down, even if you spend hours trying to forget about it.
“you didn’t…have to do this, sakusa,” you murmur, still somewhat in shock. and it seems that he’s just full of surprises today, because sakusa laughs, and you’re as surprised as you are annoyed because he’s laughing at you.
“you’re my manager, i can’t have you dying on me,” he nonchalantly replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “now get back to bed. i’ll prepare the soup for you and get you some medicine.”
you’re tempted to cuss at him, but decide that your entire body is far too weak to stay standing anymore, so you listen and make your way towards your room. sakusa doesn’t take very long, coming back with the items he promised and a damp towel — where’d he even find that?
and you think you’ve never seen sakusa so gentle before, placing the towel onto your forehead and handing you the warm soup. you eat it all in one go, not having realized how hungry you truly are, and graciously take the medicine sakusa offers you once you’re done.
“...thank you, sakusa, you didn’t have to do this,” you say, feeling rather guilty that he took it upon himself to take care of you.
sakusa only scoffs in reply. “you basically decide my entire life. everything would be thrown off-course if you weren’t able to work for even a week.”
his response makes you laugh weakly, and you promise him that you’ll be back and better soon.
“i have to go now,” sakusa says, glancing at his phone. you nod, remembering about the photoshoot you reminded him of earlier.
he awkwardly stands still, before his hand comes to rest on top of your head in a strange head-pat. sakusa’s face is slightly flushed pink, an obvious show that he’s flustered.
“feel better soon,” he mumbles, and you thank him with a smile.
(sakusa was ten minutes late to his photoshoot. when asked why by his teammates, they gave him teasing looks when he said he dropped a few items off by his sick manager’s house.)
(he thinks he may hate his team.)
#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa fluff#sakusa x reader
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Resting Time
Eris x reader
For Day 1 of @acotar-omegaverse-week — Nesting: Surely there’s a perfectly normal, completely unsuspicious reason they’re feeling an irresistible urge to arrange and rearrange the blankets and pillows…. right?
word count: 1,233
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“Are you done?” Eris asks, shoulder pressing to one of the four thick, dark-wooden posts that make up your grand-sized bed.
You take a few steps back, looking over the covers: the sheets are a dark red; the duvet and pillowcases are in a lighter shade, edged with maroon coloured inch-thick hems; the thin blanket that goes atop the duvet has a floral pattern on its underside, with burnished gold stitching embroidering vines onto its topside; the five pillows are stacked symmetrically, two on each side with one in the middle. The pillows at the bottom of the pile are square, each case matching the colour of the duvet, while the two atop the square ones are rectangular and have the matching floral pattern of the blanket, and the smallest pillow propped atop the other four is a flattened cylinder, with golden tassels hanging off its circumferences.
Teeth chew your lower lip. You shake your head, starting forward. “No, the rectangular cushions should be below the square ones, so they’re propped up at a diagonal.”
“Honey, we’re going to take them off anyway to sleep.”
“You most certainly will not—wait!”
A pair of broad palms have slid around your waist, turning you half a circle before lifting you effortlessly to the air and tossing you into the plush centre of the bed, your body sinking into the plush duvet and mattress. “Eris, you’ve ruined it,” you whine, looking at the wrinkles that are now pressed into the freshly ironed sheets. But your mate follows, hovering over you, his two powerful arms settling either side of your head, muscles shifting beneath the crisp, pale linen of his shirt as he dips down, nosing at your throat.
Heat warms your cheeks, lips curving at the ticklish lick of breath fanning across your neck, his tongue tentatively licking once, twice, over your skin. His hair falls forward from his shoulders, brushing your collarbones, bringing a wave of his scent to your attention. He smells good. Fresh, and crisp, and clean. Like an autumn day but perhaps without the dampness of morning dew. Just that fresh, hazelnut scent. Golden sugar dusted over fire-roasted chestnuts. Pecans and marzipan. Warm spices and woodsmoke.
“You smell good,” you mumble, arms lethargically pulling themselves up over his back, wanting to bring him down to your level to better feel him.
“Fawn,” Eris begins, pulling up from your body, making you whine. “Are you nesting?”
Your brows furrow. “I can be particular about how things should be displayed without it meaning I’m nesting, Eris. Don’t you want things to look nice?”
“You spent ten minutes rearranging your breakfast this morning…”
“I just wanted it to look appetising. And I wasn’t that hungry then.”
“And changing all the covers on the cushions in our living chambers? And the parlour?”
“They hadn’t been changed in months. Don’t you think they look good?”
“They look lovely. But what about the painting yesterday? And now the bedsheets?”
You glance sideways at the bedsheets, worrying your lower lip. “I thought so too. I should have chosen the maroon ones instead… Wait, we have pale duvet covers don’t we? The ones with the black and rouge trimmings? Those would look much better.” You make to scramble out from beneath him, but he lays one palm firmly over your hip, keeping you still. “Honey…”
“I’m not nesting.” You grumble, glaring at him playfully. Eris’ expression is a portrait of skeptical doubt. Your brows furrow. “I’m not.”
“Mhmm.”
Your tongue clicks, half rolling your eyes. “I think I would know, Eris,” you remind, folding your arms across your chest. “But if it’s bothering you…”
“It’s not bothering me. What’s bothering me is that it’s half eleven at night and you’re wanting to change the covers again. They look perfect.” He adds on swiftly when you make to glance at the sheets again. “You’ve done a lovely job. Now let’s go to sleep.”
Lips pressing together, you avert your gaze. “You really think they’re perfect?”
“Yes. They look wonderful—so good I want nothing more than to sleep in them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Believe me, I’m sure.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “They’re perfect. Now please can we sleep?”
Reluctantly you give a nod of your head. “Alright…sorry for keeping you awake so long…” Eris’ lips curve faintly, a soft twinkle in his eyes. “I’m sure I’ve kept you up for much longer in the past, for different reasons.” Heat flutters in your lower tummy, eyes flicking down to the collar of his shirt, the pale skin it’s showing off with the slight V-neck. Your eyes do feel pretty heavy…
Eris chuckles. “See? You’re tired too. You need to rest.”
“Okay…”
You clamp down on a complaint when he pulls the duvet back, disrupting the smoothness you’d so carefully aimed for. “Come over here,” Eris instructs, a note of affection in his fatigued voice. You grumble, but roll to your allocated side of the bed, allowing him to tuck you in properly before he slides in beside you.
Without a second’s delay you’ve squashed yourself up to his front, pressing your face into his chest, dragging his scent down in lungfuls. He really smells good.
Eris pauses, before he’s shifting his arms to be around you, a palm pulling hair out from under you. “Sweet little omega.” You hear him murmur to the crown of your head, stroking your skin soothingly. You eagerly squeeze closer, so you’re pressed together from your feet to your head, your legs having twined with his. Fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, pulling it to your nose to take a full inhale.
“I’m wearing this tomorrow,” you mumble, crawling a few inches further up his body so you can take his scent from his skin, wanting to lick up his flavour; wrap yourself in him. His reply is muffled. “It’ll be going in the wash tomorrow. This is the third night I’ve worn it.”
“I’ll take it out before it can be washed.”
“I’m telling you,” he sighs, exasperation underlying his voice, “you’re—”
“I’m not,” you huff, lips curved in a smile. “I would know. Besides, it shouldn’t be happening for another month.”
“Maybe it’s coming early.”
“It’s not,” you mumble, mouth slurring your words together. “You’re just seeing what your alpha mind wants you to.”
“Mhmm. Because it’s happening right before my keen alpha eyes.”
You shoot him a withering glare, able to hear his deadpan drawl. He offers a sleepy smirk, and your temper is mellowed almost instantly, clutching tighter to him. “I’m just saying I know my omega well. The Mother knows I’d have no quarrel with you starting to nest earlier than we expected.”
“That’s lovely, but I assure you I’m not.”
“We’ll see,” he laughs softly, tucking the crown of your head beneath his chin, large palm stroking across your back.
A beat of silence passes, and you’re on the verge of falling asleep when he speaks again. “I’d be happy to give you my shirt tomorrow if you were nesting, though.”
“You won’t be leaving the bed if I am,” you mumble back. “I’ll be burying us together beneath all your clothes.”
Eris groans, but beneath your palm you can feel as his pulse quickens, his heart betraying his true emotion.
Maybe you are starting earlier than you thought…
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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna
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I made a little bucktommy fic based off of this post from yesterday (read here or on ao3)
Husbands
There had been a big fire, taking out the top eight floors of a high rise. There were multiple stations involved, including the 118 and Harbor, ground and air support, to get the fire under control and everyone out safely.
It took more than a few hours, but eventually the fire was out and everyone was getting their gear in order to head back to their respective stations.
As Buck organized the tools in the truck, a small group of friends, two guys and two girls, in their mid-twenties Buck assumed, gathered around him.
It had started with little comments; a guy asked what the axe was used for, a girl batted her eyelashes as she touched his turnouts because she “always wondered what the material felt like”, another girl asked how much water could be stored in the truck.
Buck liked talking. He liked answering questions and telling people what he did. He leaned against the firetruck as they chatted, until about five minutes in one of the guys sighed and got to the point. “We're honestly just wondering if one of us could get your number? Or all of us. Doesn't really matter.”
Buck paused. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy getting hit on. He enjoyed it quite a bit, actually. It was always nice to know when someone found you attractive.
Getting hit on was fun. Getting people's numbers was fun. But, there was something else that was even funner now. He'd been able to do it for exactly three months, to the day. Not that he wasn't flashing his ring beforehand, but something about being married sounded even better than being engaged.
“Sorry, guys,” Buck said, smiling as he lifted his left hand into view, “Im flattered, but I'm married.”
As some disappointed, and some still interested, looks broke out over the group, a familiar voice sounded behind Buck. “Damn, I was just about to shoot my shot.”
A blush rose on Buck's face as Tommy passed by. He was working ground ops today, and Buck knew he was around, but this was the first he'd seen of him. “Yeah, you wish, Kinard,” he called back, causing Tommy to turn back around to him.
He shrugged, smirking. “A guy can dream, can't he?” he asked with a wink, continuing backwards toward his truck.
It was only once Tommy was out of view that Buck realized the group was still there, staring between Buck and the direction Tommy went with confusion on their faces.
“Oh, uh, that- that's my husband.”
His smile grew as he watched the realization hit the group. They didn't stand a chance.
“Forget it,” one girl mumbled as they all started to disperse.
“They're both so hot, what the hell?” one guy whispered, albeit loudly, to his friend.
“And unbelievably corny,” the friend said back, not even trying to be quiet. “Makes me wanna gag.”
Buck rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he pushed himself up from where he was leaning on the firetruck. He began walking in the direction Tommy had gone, needing to see him before his station left.
“Get any numbers, hot stuff?” Tommy's voice made Buck jump. He was situated between two trucks and, from the looks of it, had just finished pouring a bottle of water over his head to clean himself off.
Buck's shoulders relaxed as he walked over to Tommy. “No, I did not,” he said cheekily. “You wanna know why?”
“Hmm?”
“Because my husband interrupted. He didn't say it, but I got the feeling he wants to keep me to himself.”
“The nerve of that guy.” Tommy moved closer to Buck, his hands coming up to grip onto the sides of Buck's turnouts. “Can't say I blame him though.” He spoke quietly, staring between Buck's eyes and lips, “He does have a really hot husband.”
Buck put his hand at the nape of Tommy's neck, closing the space between them as he pulled him in for a kiss. He had no concern for the fact he was getting soot right back on Tommy's clean face. Payback.
“Can you bring your turnouts home?” Buck asked, leaning back just enough to speak.
Tommy laughed, his face scrunching up into that deep smile that made Buck melt. “This really does something for you, doesn't it?”
“Every damn time.”
Another kiss, this one slower and softer. A promise of what's to come when they're both off shift in a few hours. “I'll figure out a way.”
#bucktommy#911#tommy kinard#evan buckley#tevan#kinley#i didn't read over this thoroughly so if theres errors oops
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