#a tag for my very long posts about taylor swift | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pencil-n-pen · 4 months ago

Text

I’M STILL TRYING EVERYTHING

⋆° 𐙚 ₊🧦☕🧸₊°⋆ ೀ₊°⋆

previous | kofi | masterlist

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

₊ ⊹

I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.

-mirrorball, taylor swift

₊ ⊹

summary: you’ve never had a date or a relationship that either didn’t work out or end in disaster. now that you have spencer, you’re determined not to let it happen again

cw: referenced bad past relationships, very very vaguely referenced past domestic abuse that honestly could be taken a different way, referenced child abuse (readers parents are STILL not it) again this is a criminal minds fic so references to graphic violence

tags/tropes: hurt/comfort (do i even need to say this? you all know who i am) insecurity, like one line of misogyny and it’s in the past and not brought up again, spencer being soft n worried, HEALTHY COMMUNICATION, spencer is just as gone for reader as she is for him honestly he's just a sap

a/n: back by popular demand !! seriously guys, you have no idea how much the support and comments and reblogs and asks means to me 🥹 the overwhelming amount of love for the first fic made me so happy when people started asking about a sequel i knew i had to !!

read the crossword on the collage for a surprise :)

this one goes out to all my girlies who’ve ever felt like they needed to be less in order to get a boyfriend or keep one. we’ll have our soft love just the way it was meant to be

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Spencer is a really good boyfriend.

Like… a really good boyfriend. You’re not sure if this is how having a real boyfriend is or if Spencer is just like this.

He’s so good to you. He’s just so- so him. You can’t explain it. Can’t put it into words.

He’s very patient with you. You’ve never explicitly stated it, but he’s picked up on your previous relationship experience- or more accurately, your lack thereof. The morning after you’d gone home with him, night consisting of nothing but easy sleep and warmth, he’d asked you out for real. Asked you if you’d go on a date with him, and you’d agreed, a giddy smile fixed firmly on your face.

But you still worry.

All it takes it one conversation with your parents to push things over the edge.

“Yes, dad. He’s very good to me.”

A laugh crackles over the line. “I tell you, your mother and I never thought we’d see the day.”

The words twinge uncomfortably in your chest. “Hey, I’m not that bad. I’ve just been focused.”

“More like uptight.”

“Dad—“

“You know, you still haven’t come out to visit your poor old parents since getting this so-called cushy job. And now you’ve got this boyfriend. You’re too young to settle down. Don’t you think we should meet him?”

Sometimes conversations turn so quickly they leave you stranded— scrambling to pick up pieces of what you thought was going to happen and piece them together to make something new. Something for the new route the conversation has taken.

You couldn’t hold back your sigh if you tried. “We haven’t been dating for that long dad, I don’t want to spring this on him—“

“Sweetie, if we don’t meet him now, why might never meet him. Who knows how long he’s gonna stick around?”

(Sometimes, in moments like these, for just a split second, you wonder how a father could say something like that, to his daughter. You wonder why, wonder what you did wrong. And then, you imagine Hotch saying those same things, and you can’t, and it almost makes you feel a little better.)

Your blood runs cold. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“Well, you know how things have ended in the past. I’m just saying I’d like to meet him before he’s gone."

You don't dignify his words with a response.

"Come on, honey. I'm just joking with you."

"It's not funny."

"Don't be like that--"

"Goodbye."

You hang up, snapping the phone shut with a sigh.

The older you've gotten, the more conversations with your parents end up like this. You suppose it's the way you 'wasted your potential' or 'never made something of yourself.' They've always held resentment ever since you decided to become an agent. So you know not to take what they say to heart, because their words only come from a place of disappointment and displeasure. It's not a reflection of who you really are or what you've really accomplished.

Or at least, that's what Hotch told you when he'd overheard one of your phone calls. It meant more than you'd let on.

But your Dad's words linger in your head. They're irritating and sharp where they claw around in your head because they're true.

You can count on one hand the amount of romantic endeavors you've had. And from those, they all ended horribly. Your parents lost sympathy towards the end of your attempts, muttered words of needing to try harder to keep them, that you should be satisfied that somebody wanted you at all, that you should try to be less... you.

Try to be less... you, dear. The books and the facts- nobody wants those. Put some more effort into your appearance. Otherwise you'll end up all alone.

You'd tried to take their advice, of course. But the relationships that were fathered your parents direction were not loving. There was nothing soft or gentle or warm about them. You'd never felt more unlovable.

So when the incident with the shooter happened and you were lying on the lecture hall floor, blood coloring the carpet deep scarlet, you'd vowed to never let it happen again. That you were going to use your intellect and wit and passion for what you wanted to do- you'd promised yourself that if you survived, you would try to make your life your own, one step at a time.

This, of course, is easier said than done.

It's easy enough to refuse to let yourself get involved with men who are clearly only interested in your for your badge or your body --though the latter happens so rarely you really don't have to worry about it-- because you don't care about them. They're blips on your radar.

But Spencer? Sweet, sweet Spencer who makes you hot-cocoa and binge watches Doctor Who with you, even the later seasons, which you know he doesn't like as much but you love. Spencer who always has a grounding touch to offer, or a quiet command when you need him. Spencer who puts you first.

But there's a limit to these things, right? As far as you've seen, romantic relationship's are transactional, or conditional. Sometimes both. He can't just... keep doing this forever. It's too kind. Too sweet. It'll come to an end soon. Like, like the honeymoon era in early relationships. That's all it is. Plus, he's older than you, and you have no illusions about your unavoidable impulsiveness and naivety.

You've been told that your standards are too high before. "Struck by the hopeless romantic's arrow," your brother had said once, back when you were still in school, crying over a boy who'd told you that he didn't want to date you because you were too smart for a girl.

"That's not being hopeless romantic. There's no such thing as being too smart for a girl."

"There isn't," He'd amended, "But you're not going to have an easy time finding a guy. You of all people can't really afford to be picky."

He'd been right, in the end. So you're just... having a hard time figuring out how genuine Spencer's actions are. Guy's don't really act all romantic in the context of you. You've been told your whole life to be happy with what you get, and what you've had in the past is decidedly not lining up with how Spencer treats you.

It's a nasty little thing in your ear. Is it real? Does it matter as much to him?

When is it all going to end?

Rossi make's an offhand comment during a mission that you talk a lot when you're excited about the subject at hand.

JJ agrees. "It's a little unnerving when the subject is the bruising patterns of strangulation."

That little voice comes back.

Too much too much too much too much too much--

"It's useful," You protest, mouth dry.

JJ snorts, "I'm not sure about that. We need to know that the victim was strangled, not what happens to the body during blunt-force asphyxiation."

You'd grown quiet then, let the chatter and musings of the rest of the team wash over you.

Is that something Spencer finds annoying? You have always found things other's view morbid and disturbing fascinating. But JJ is right. No one wants to hear about that.

You brush the comment off, square your shoulders, get back on with the case.

Be better. Try harder.

You don't seen the furrow of Spencer's brows from where he's been watching you, or the quick look he shares with Hotch.

You'd never really thought about how clingy you can be before Emily makes an offhand comment about it while the two of you wait in line at a coffee shop. There's a couple in front of you, the girl all over her partner, kissing and giggling and hugging them close.

"Ugh," Emily groans once the two get their coffee and move on. "I could never understand the appeal of all that. I mean doesn't it feel stifling?"

A little stab of ice in your stomach.

"I don't know. I think it's nice."

"No, thank you. If I were her partner, I'd feel smothered."

You think about that conversation every time you take Spencer's hand or lean into his simple touches. They're invasive little things, the thoughts. It's not hard to pull back on all the touching. You never really ask for them in the first place- always too nervous to come off clingy. But you suppose just taking, taking, taking is just the same.

A quick shake of your head, not leaning in, a quiet "I'm fine." and that little nagging fear of smothering begins to quiet. It doesn't leave, but it does get quieter. For a little while, at least.

The hard part is trying to be less without noticeably being less. Spencer's smart- and he's a profiler. If you pull back too much too quickly, he'll notice, and you don't want to talk about this yet. You just need to make sure he'll stay. That things won't—

That you won't find out too late that you don't mean as much to him as he does to you.

That's the kind of thing that can't happen again. But ascertaining his true feelings and desires is difficult, because this is all kind's of new territory for you. You want to believe it's real. You really, really want to believe it's real.

But it's never been real before, so why would it be real now?

You've asked around (subtly and carefully, of course) about the type of girl Spencer's dated or drifted towards in the past. You know he said he wanted something soft and sweet, but you can't help but think that you're not really either, nor are you in line with his type. All things considered, you're a mess. Something tired-eyed and hollow is how you feel most days. Some sort of creature perhaps? You're honestly not sure what you are. You've spent your entire life being singled out or otherwise othered- always too smart or too different or too weird or too much or too loud or too quiet or too shy or too, too, too. Always too something. You have never been called soft or sweet. In a demeaning way, sure, but never with the quiet reverence that Spencer said it with that night.

It feels like a balancing act, a bit. Holding all those too much parts so close to your chest with one hand and shoving the ones you think Spencer wants with the other hand.

You could probably drop the one hand. The one holding the bad parts. But you're just not convinced he'll stay. You're not sure that he won't look at them with some form of disgust or pity or something else terrible.

You know the balancing act isn't sustainable— you'll fall eventually, and everything will come crashing down, but until then, you just keep trying. Trying to see if he'll stay, trying to see what to do if he won't. How to ensure he will, if that's something that's possible.

The act does not hold up for as long as you hoped it would. It comes crashing down with a glass. Literally.

You and Spencer are in the kitchen on a rare weekend off, cooking and drinking wine and swaying to some little old love song.

It should be perfect, except you're worrying that you look ugly while you're dancing, and you're probably singing off-key, and he maybe wants you to shut up so he can hear the song or dance in peace.

He reaches towards you and you just— your brain shrieks for a moment, all senses going into overdrive and you jerk backward, and your elbow knocks into your wine glass, and it falls, shattering behind you with a deafening crash.

Your entire body tenses, waiting for yelling or sighing or something, because you broke the glass, there's crystalline shards everywhere, the wine red and it looks like blood, maybe it is, maybe you're bleeding because the glass was really close to your foot when it fell but you're not sure because you can't really feel your feet or your fingers or—

"Don't move," Spencer says, voice serious, and tears well in your eyes, because this is when it all ends isn't it? "I don't want you to— honey?"

"Yes?" You croak.

His eyes are swimming with concern as he takes in your hunched shoulders, shallow breaths, and scared expression.

Understanding flickers in his features, and you resist the urge to hold your breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to you because of the glass, okay? Everything is fine. We're fine. I'm not mad. See? I'm not mad. I just don't want you to cut your feet on the glass. I'm going to clean this up and get your slippers, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe, voice hoarse. You wring your hands nervously as he leaves to retrieve the necessary supplies to clean the mess, heart beating so fast and so hard you're shocked you can't see it through your shirt.

He's not mad. He's not mad. You're not in trouble. Your parents aren't here. You're not grounded. You're not in trouble. He's not mad.

You're silent while he cleans, focused on getting your breathing under control while he babbles quietly about the history of glass making and the significance of types of wine glasses. The facts and history wash over you in steady waves, easing the tension in your shoulders bit by bit.

"I didn't think you were going to hit me, Spencer."

He continues cleaning. "It's okay if you did. I would never blame you for that."

"But I don't," You say, suddenly desperate, "I know you wouldn't, I've never been hit, not like that."

He's quiet for a few minutes. "Does this have something to do with how you've been acting recently?"

You freeze. "What do you mean?"

He looks up, leaning back on his knees. Making himself smaller, you realize. He's trying not to scare you again.

"You're dating a profiler. Also, I speak fluent you, and you've been chewing all your hangnails again. You only do that when you're stressed and pretending like you're not."

Your finger's twitch at your sides.

His hands come up slowly, and he rubs the length of your waist and hips. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but I think we should soon. I don't want you hurting all by yourself. You've had enough of that. That's what I'm here for."

He finishes cleaning up the glass, and finishes cooking dinner- he'd assured you he'd turned off all burners when the glass hit the floor, so nothing's burnt.

Once you've both eaten, he steers you towards the couch and wordlessly puts on Doctor Who.

The Pandorica is just about to open when you finally decide that if you don't start talking, you never will.

"My parents think you're going to leave me."

Spencer makes a wounded noise in his throat. "Why do they think that?"

"Because it's happened before. I'm, um. I'm not very good at getting into relationships. Or keeping them."

"But that's not your fault."

You sniff hard, rubbing your face with your sleeve. "It is though, isn't it? At least a little. I know I can be a lot. I know I'm not easy to—"

You cut yourself off, but the words hang in the air anyway; unsaid.

I'm not easy to love.

"Anyway," You say, pushing through the lump in your throat. "I just thought. I don't know. I was worried that you'd get fed up with me."

"No," He whispers, voice raw and full of something a lot heavier than fond. "No, no baby. I like that you're clingy and you ramble when you get excited, because it means that we get to talk about something together."

He shifts on the couch, sitting criss-crossed, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. "You know what else I like?"

You scoot over, mirroring his position. "What?"

"I like that you always know when I need you. Even when I don't think I do, you're there. Because I do need you. This isn't a one-way street."

His words hit you straight in your chest. "Oh."

He smiles, brows a little scrunched, brown eyes a deep pool of fondness and a splash of concern. "Yeah. And I'm thinking you need me a little more than you want to let on."

The seam of your pajama pants suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. Amazing, the wonders of a sewing machine.

"Maybe."

"Mmm," He hums, "So if I need you, don't you think that you're allowed to need me?"

Your fingers pick and twirl a loose thread around. "...Yes?"

A large, firm hand covers your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. "Yes. Not only are you allowed to need me, I want you to need me. Cause you know how you're always worried about being the best girlfriend? Well, I'm always worried about being the best boyfriend."

That makes you look up. "Really?"

He chuckles again, a little puff of air fanning your face. "Yes, really. I assure you, contrary to your past experiences, this is one of those bare minimum things in a relationship."

"That does not," He continues, immediately catching the brief flicker of doubt and shame on your face, "Mean that it is your fault at all for how you were treated in the past. You wouldn't expect me to suddenly become an expert in veterinary medicine just because I've been to the vet's office a few times, right?"

"When did you go to the vet's—"

"Shh, I'm being a good boyfriend," He holds up a hand, lips quirking up when you can't suppress a tiny giggle, "But seriously. You had no frame of reference, right? And you were being told it was your fault. But it wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

He lets his words hang in the air for a little while and allows you time to process this new information.

"What do I do now?"

"Well," He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, curls tickling your forehead, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here. Just three things. You have to keep letting me need you, let yourself need me, and one last little thing."

"What?"

You're so close your breaths are mingling.

"Let me show you what this is supposed to look like. How a man is supposed to treat a pretty girl. His pretty girl."

"Oh, well," Heat rushes to your cheeks, your stomach doing flip-flops, "That sounds pretty hard. I don't know how I'll hold up."

His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, his thumb sweeping strokes under your eye.

"You say that now, but I know what happens to you when I get romantic. You swoon."

You laugh. "I do not swoon."

"You will."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It isn't a kiss-kiss. He's kissing you just to kiss you; just to let you know that he's here, that you have him.

It's sweet and perfect and exactly what you need.

Letting yourself need Spencer is marginally easier now that you know he needs you. Now that you know you're not going all in for someone who isn't.

He also starts needing you a bit... louder.

It's late evening, and most people have gone home except you and a couple other members of the team, all still working on paperwork.

Except Spencer, who's decided to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat, his chin resting on your head.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Either finished it or it can be done later."

You shift your shoulders, smiling at how his grumbles vibrate against your back.

He moves his head, pressing his cheek to your head instead of his chin, heaving a deep sigh.

"Your hair smells good."

"Like what?"

"You're shampoo. Yours always smell better than mine."

You continue to work through your paperwork, Spencer a continuous and solid weight against your back.

"Is this even comfortable for your back at all?"

"Doesn't matter. Need girlfriend time."

He can't see it, but you're sure he knows how hard you blush.

Spencer's cooking the two of you a late breakfast in the kitchen of his apartment, hair still all mussed from sleep. He's quite the sight. You can't stop staring.

You're sitting on the counter, still dressed in your pajamas, legs swinging.

"You wanna know something cool?"

"You know it,"

"Butterflies and moths can drink blood and tears. There's nutrients in them. Purple Emperor butterflies are especially known for this. It's called mud-puddling."

"So you're telling me I should make sure I bandage any open wounds before I go to a butterfly house?"

"I guess. I can't imagine they'd be able to drink enough blood to actually cause any damage."

"Maybe we'll have to go to a butterfly house. For research."

"Should we get dinner afterwards?"

"We'll deserve it, you know, for all the hard research we'll have done."

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."

Spencer's bed is infinitely more comfortable than your bed. You're pretty sure it's a combination of the fact that it's the only thing in the entire world that smells so much like him and the fact that he spent part of his large FBI paycheck on a fancy mattress. Back support is very important to him.

You're doing a little reading before bed, shamelessly sprawled all over him while he does his own reading. You've got a leg hooked over his hips, the other tangled with his legs, and your arms and head pillowed on his chest. You move a little every time he takes a breath, and more than once you've paused in your reading, mesmerized by the feeling.

He shifts under you, setting his book down on his night stand and making himself more comfortable.

"Should I move?"

"No," he says, voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him, face pressed to the crook of your neck. He breathes deep, scruffy stubble scratching against your skin. "Like you close. Good for sleep."

Even with the lamp on, and your book in your hand, you fall asleep soon after him.

It's an ordinary evening for the two of you. Discarded dishes sit on the coffee table in front of the t.v, neither of you paying them any attention, wrapped up in each other and eyes glued to the screen.

You look up at Spencer who's watching Doctor Who with the focus of a man who's never seen it, even though you know for a fact he's seen it before, several times in fact.

"I want to know the things you like," He'd said simply, the one time you'd asked why he takes your nightly Doctor Who watching so seriously.

And tonight's no different. Tonight, he looks... well, he looks like Spencer. His face illuminated by the TV screen, his hair all mussed from you running your hands through it earlier.

And it just kind of all hits you at once. You know.

"I love you."

He looks down at you, his expression soft and surprised. When your words register, his expression is so sickeningly fond and happy you can't help but lean in, burying your face in his chest. He rubs your back consolingly, then presses a little kiss to the crown of your head.

"I love you too."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

taglist: @topsecret101 @slowdownpal @leeknowpegger @sunbl3achedfly @hiireadstuff @paige0103 @private190104 @beautyb1ade @coraline-jones353 @pleasenter-sandman @sttvrdustt @gluchie @thomasintheshadows @dessamira1001 @bbleeeeh @hufflely-puffly @bippityboppityboob1tch @buggys-space @redxfangirl @liauchiha147 @dreaming-potato @meandyoulollz @jobrosimp

#girlblogging #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #ao3 #bau team #criminal minds fanfiction #x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #soft spencer reid #almost forgot that one teehee #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader

2K notes · View notes

checkeredflagggs · 3 months ago

Text

The Story of Us: Chapter 4

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: logan and you have been keeping a secret from everyone but it might be time for it to come out

a/n: while I do my best on most of my works to be race neutral, this one is very very very self indulgent 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n2: this is part 4 of 5, which will be released when they’re finished and I’m using pretty much everything from Taylor Swift

a/n3: I still don’t understand instagram so - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also I still hate twitter so I’ve replaced it with Bluesky.

a/n4: Also timelines? Never heard of them. This is set in 2024 but I’ve moved Miami to before Australia and changed some of the results of races.

a/n5: sorry this one took so long! Been dealing with some stuff

Masterlist | Taglist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Valentine’s Day

y/n

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 17,824,192 others

y/n: the vault is open and it’s treasures are yours.

In the process of writing and polishing up my albums, certain songs have been put aside, treasured but not shown the light. Now it’s time that changed — time for the secrets to come out.

view all comments

user1: oh my god yes

↳user2: banger after banger after banger

↳user1: as always!

oscarpiastri: why must I suffer…

↳logansargeant: 🤣🤣

↳landonorris: I don’t like your tone young man

↳oscarpiastri: you are 2 years older than me

↳landonorris: respect your elders!

↳oscarpiastri: whatever you say old man

↳oscarpiastri: as long as you stop squawking about the garage trying to sing

↳user3: so brutal…

↳landonorris: YOU MUPPET

user4: FAVORITE SONG? And if it isn’t All Too Well (10 minute version) you’re wrong

↳user5: Electric Touch!

↳charles_leclerc: timeless!

↳maxverstappen1: say don’t go

↳user6: babe!

↳pierregasly: is it over now?

↳carlossainz55: you all over me

↳lilymhe: Slut!

↳user7: better man obviously

↳alex_albon: Mr. Perfectly Fine

↳alexandrasaintmleux: when Emma falls in love

user8: she still has the grid all up in her comments…

↳logansargeant: they were fighting in the group chat on who’s the biggest fan

↳user8:😂😂 drag them!

↳alex_albon: mate…

↳logansargeant: it was 3:30 in the morning and I couldn’t sleep because of your stupid fight idk anymore

user9: this is the best thing happening so far this year

↳user10: right? Better then some sitcoms

user19: secrets come to light!?!?

↳user53: they’re totally gonna reveal themselves soon right?

↳user19: within the week is my guess!!!

↳user11: you guys are freakishly in sync

Private Messages, Logan and y/n

f1gossip

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, estebanocon and 92,913 others

tagged: georgerussell63, lewishamilton, landonorris, oscarpiastri, estebanocon, pierregasly, maverstappen1, hulkhulkenburg, kevinmagnussen, alex_albon, logansargeant, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc

f1gossip: I Can See You…talking about y/n and her newest album! The fanstage this weekend at Imola was full of people asking the drivers their thoughts on y/n, her newest album, the Eras tour, and even their thoughts on her emerging relationship!

view all comments

user12: one of the best fan stages ever

user13: worth getting up at the ass crack of dawn to watch

user14: I think you mean it was full of them getting asked a tangentially related question and yapping nonstop about her until someone managed to cut in?

↳user15: thank god I wasn’t the only to catch that…

↳user14: you’d have to be blind deaf and dumb to miss is…

↳user16: that’s describing about 50% of the grid when talking or thinking about y/n then…

↳user14: 😂😂😂

user17: poor Oscar, Logan, and Nico looked so done

↳user18: if the past is to be believed, Oscar probably spent the last week listening to Lando try to belt out the entire album…

↳user20: oh dear 🤣

↳user18: and as user19 says…Logan has been dealing with the grid and their girlfriends flirt with his girlfriend for a couple of months now.

↳user19: I vote he just goes bowling this weekend. Knock them all out liked by not_y/n, not_logan, not_oscar

user19

liked by user53, user, user and 18,012 others

user19: I’m guessing the Logan and y/n relationship reveal is happening very very VERY soon. Tonight all of y/n’s outfits were of the blue variety (excluding, of course, the reputation bodysuit and Red combos). I’m guessing she wore blue to publicly support Logan (especially after that shit vowles pulled in Australia). My guess is this weekend — after tonight she has a 5 day break (enough time to jet over to Italy for Sunday’s race and still make it back for the start of the New York shows)

view all comments

user21: I believe it

↳user22: after the last few months of following along with the crazy conspiracy theories…yeah I do too

↳user19: y’all should have just believed me in the first place!

user23: if she shows up at Imola, I’m gonna scream!

↳user24: imagining her as a wag…

↳user25: let’s be real — Logan is still the wag in that relationship 😂😂

↳user24: that’s true!

user26: oh my god I can’t wait! My family has been Williams Racing fans for years — even more fans to join the family

↳user27: oh I can’t wait for her fans to drag vowles through the mud…

↳user26: …yes that’s also a big plus. He desperately needs an attitude adjustment

Bluesky

user28: SHE JUST CHANGED RHE LURICS

↳user29: FOR REAL????

↳user28: FOR REAL!!!

user30: my stream cut!! what happened!!!!

↳user31: SHE CHANGED TBE LYRICS!!!

↳user30: what lyrics???

↳user31: Karma! “Karma is the guy on the tracks coming straight home to me”

↳user30: OH MY GOD

user19: I WAS RIGHT. I KNEW IT. ITS HAPPENING!!

↳user53: congrats baby!!

↳user32: WAIT WHAT

↳user33: BABY??? YOU GUYS ARE DATING NOW??

not_oscar: oh my god this is like throwing fire on gasoline…

↳not_y/n: oh yeah prepare yourself. I’m coming to Imola

↳not_lilyz: really??

↳not_y/n: yes! Want me to stop in England?

↳not_lilyz: please!

↳not_oscar: I’ll set a ticket aside for you lily liked by not_lily

↳not_logan: oh I can’t wait

↳not_y/n: …it’s been a long time coming?

↳not_oscar: ugh

↳not_y/n: come on it was right there!! liked by not_logan, not_lilyz

user34: omg i literally can’t wait for Imola now!!

↳user35: she’s gonna slay it!

y/n

liked by lilyzneimer, oscarpiastri, yoursister, and 19,283,913 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n: I’ve loved you for 14 summers now but I want them all.

view all comments

user36: oh my god

↳user37: 14 YEARS

logansargeant: you’ll have them all

↳y/n: just like I planned

↳user38: because you’re a mastermind?

↳y/n: 😊😊

↳logansargeant: MY mastermind

↳user39: oh you guys are the type to be publicly gross aren’t you

↳oscarpiastri: yes

alex_albon: WHAT

lilymhe: Oh dear…

alexandrasaintmleux: 😳😳

iamrebeccad: Oh!

user40: ok now that this is out of the way…release the baby photos please

↳y/n: 😊😉

↳logansargeant: what??? NO

user19: hem hem??

↳user41: yes yes yes. You’re right, we’re wrong

↳user41: BUT COUPLE OF THE YEAR HERE!!

user42: never thought I’d be involved in something that broke the internet…

user43: ARE YOU GUYS MARRIED &/OR ENGAGED???

↳y/n: No we’re not

↳logansargeant: yet

↳y/n: 😳😳

Private Messages, the Grid (Unserious)

y/n

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 17,284,824 others

tagged: logansargeant, williamsracing

y/n: Imola you are so beautiful — thank you for treating my man right.

Logan, my love, congratulations on the points. It was lovely to see you chase your dream

comments have been restricted on this post

logansargeant: it was one of the best days of my life having you here. thank you for coming out in the middle of your tour

↳y/n: there is nowhere else I’d rather be than right by your side

↳y/n: no matter where that might be

oscarpiastri: it was good to see you again!

↳y/n: you as well Oscar! And congrats on the podium — it was a well deserved 2nd place

lilyzneimer: thanks for the ride! It was good to catch up with you again

↳y/n: it’s always a good day when I get to talk to you Lily!

yoursister: ummm some warning next time! That’s 2 times now — I wanna go to a race too!

↳y/n: next time for sure

↳y/n: I have breaks for Montreal or Silverstone?

↳yoursister: or both?

↳logansargeant: both please!

Private Messages, y/n

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @msimpala-67 @Americanvenom13 @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @theendofthematerialgworl

424 notes · View notes

dear-ao3 · 8 months ago

Text

the 2024 formula 1 silly season and drama master post, part 2 (part 1 here)

Hello and welcome to ah fucking fuck auto caps fuck fuck fuck how do i turn off auto caps AHA there we go okay. take 2

hello and welcome to the great and very insane formula 1 2024 season drama post, part 2. if you are new here or are just looking for part one (which contains the previous 16 (?) races, the off season, pre season testing and everything else, that can be found HERE. (a word to the wise: open it in a browser, not the app, and preferably on a computer to avoid crashing. its fucking long).

what the hell is formula 1? car go fast. fastest cars in the world zoom around tracks at top speeds of over 300kph, piloted by the top 20 drivers in the world. it might not sound dramatic, but oh man. you will Not be disappointed. this post focuses on the drama, the insanity, the sheer what the hell how is this a serious sport. no legitimately. we've just about seen it all this year. grindr, dogs, watersports, ice cream brands, its all here.

the point of this post? to educate, to catalog the insane drama, and to just have a good time. people like to gatekeep this sport, there is also a lot happening. i try to make it easy to understand. again, probably best to start at the beginning of the post because it does a pretty good job of explaining things, which i began way back in january, and can be found HERE (again, shes long, be careful)

and, as usual, if you do not want to see this post EVER AGAIN, block the tag #saph explains silly season 2024

and a second caution, i assume this post will be getting long as well. including this one we have minimum 9 updates left!

anyway, those of you who have been following along the whole time, welcome back! i know we got a little delayed. and i know we’re on a new post, so lets just briefly take a second for me to explain what the fuck happened. first i had an anatomy test, second i work 2 jobs with fuck ass hours, third tumblr decided to stop letting me look at any of my drafts, fourth tumblr support ghosted me about the drafts issue and the post was half saving half not so i just decided fuck it, were going with post 2, electric boogaloo, and fifth, i decided to start typing this instead in a google docs so. many changes. if you're new here i am usually more on top of this.

but here we are. were back on street circuits. we’re in baku, azerbaijan, for the start of the last third of the season. 8 races remain, world championship titles are still within grasp of multiple people. the drama is dramaing. and today is september 22, 2024 and lets fucking go.

first and foremost, on account of the fact that this post is late (again, see above), were going to have to do a bit of a speed run. if you're new here, i promise that this is not representative of my normal dedication to the update post. and for those asking, yeah, ill probably compile it somewhere better than a tumblr post after its all said and done, but we don't have time for that now.

what we do have time for is the Off Week (and like some of the media stuff). and it was filled with silliness:

george russell decided to wear what can only be described as slightly ugly yellow short shorts with his taylor swift shirt that he got at the eras tour. this was baffling for several reasons, the main reason being that i don't think the internet knew that he was capable of wearing a graphic t shirt

fernando alonso got his aston martin valkyrie finally. in case you are unfamiliar, a valkyrie i think is the worlds fastest street legal car. he posted tweets about this that made it seem like he wanted to fuck the car. hilariously, the car broke down an hour later.

we also had the very thrilling conclusion to grill the grid. oscar won and he somehow managed to look more pleased about his grill the grid win than his first race victory.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by FORMULA 1® (@f1)

instagram

nico rosberg went to the green awards and he wore a fantastically insane teal blue suit. yes i know hes not a current driver. but you all like hearing about him so ask and you shall receive. unfornunately i cant find a picture of it though

and also not a current driver is mick schumacher, but my roommate asked me to include that he was seen on his girlfriends instagram being bad at golf. like. exceptionally bad at golf. like he hit a tree 20 feet in front of him.

also playing golf was lando norris. except he managed to look like try bolton from high school musical 2.

he also talked about the world driver championship with his friend max fewtrell while they were playing golf. unfortunately i lost this link in the sea of technical difficulties, but the gist of it was that he was saying that there is still hope for him to beat max in the championship (hes about 60 points behind right now). lando doesnt usually talk about the championship because he doesnt want news outlets to paint him as “desperate” so this was interesting

charles leclerc had an insane off week. first he rear ended someone in monaco. then he spoke at a yacht conference. he was not scheduled to speak at said yacht conference, he was there doing something else and they were like hey you're cool people know you, heres a microphone. he alsp ended up on a weather channel while promoting a karting event he was doing for the jules bianchi foundation (his god father, the one who died during the f1 race in japan 2014). he also changed his instagram pop and re centered it because some random tiktoker told him it matched his aesthetic better.

oscar piastri posted a photo of himself sitting in the cockpit of a plane and then promptly deleted it. because he posted it on 9/11. for anyone who doesnt know what that is, that was when some terrorists hijacked commercial planes and few them into the world trade centers in nyc and the pentagon in washington dc

max verstappen also posted a plane pic with himself and lando norris, but he did not delete it.

we also had the return of daniel ricciardo’s jpg instagram account, which is kinda like a finsta for photos that hes taken. i think lando started this a few years ago.

heading into the race week we certainly got a weird ass batch of pr. including but not limited to:

lewis hamilton was back on top and slaying in the fit game. as was yuki.

lewis hamilton also exposed george russell as listening to katy perry pre race. katy perry and taylor swift (this was after he claimed that he liked listening to old school rap music.) though, lewis then started singing wrecking ball???? confusing vibes all around

george was not off the hook yet tho because some intern definitely make him say skidibidi toilet or whatever the thing is idk, i might be gen z but im not insufferable, okay? actually george in baku was just all kinds of unhinged

george and alex also got up to something, what it is no one knows but it is clearly something

max pulled up to the paddock de aged about 10 years. picture one is of him in baku in 2015 (i believe he was 17) and picture 2 is this year. no i am not kidding.

and franco walked into the paddock telling everyone about argentinian mate (which is a drink, not a friend)

and max shoved a microphone out of the way so everyone could gossip

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Scuderia Ferrari HP (@scuderiaferrari)

instagram

then of course, we had some slightly more relevant drama

haas announced that ollie would be replacing kevin at baku. in case you forgot, kevin magnussen received a total of 12 penalty points over the season so far, which means he gets one race ban. how did he get the points? well he was mostly wreaking havoc on everyone else so that his teammate, nico hulkenberg, could drag his car into the points. lets all remember the time in saudi arabia where he managed to get 20 seconds of penalties by basically driving like a mad man just to make sure that nico could keep his position after he pit stopped. anyway, nico was kind of pissed about the race ban situation and said “maybe the guidelines for F1 penalties need to be reviewed as the stewards ‘want to get involved’ no matter the contact.”

in any case though, k mags was out. and ollie was in. we’ve seen ollie before. notably he subbed in for carlos sainz at the saudi arabia gp when carlos had appendicitis. he managed to get points as well. since then, he has been announced as a haas driver for 2025 and is now subbing in for k mags (haas, later in the week called him a super sub. clearly no gen z person read that over.) he can do this because ferrari has a haas engine so they share reserve drivers.

adrian newey finally got employed. i know! i can hardly believe it either! but he did! and youll never guess where!

ferrari? no that would be too obvious.

mercedes? nah

williams? no too much of a shit show

aston martin? ding ding ding! just the right amount of shit show!

that is right. newey is going to aston for 2025.

apparently he was offered a “good package” according to himself, which i assume means pay and also the fact that lawrence stroll made him a shareholder? stakeholder? whatever its called. in the team itself. basically he has a lot of power.

he said that he always wanted to work with fernando and lewis. and he couldn't do both. and aston had a better package than ferrari.

fernando looked positively evil during all the announcement pictures. and called the team "definitely the team of the future" and for those of you who don't know, fernando is positively evil. hes just been stuck in a shit box and we havent seen very much of him, but man does he know how to evilly slut it up. so that will be fun to see.

by contrast, people said that lance was not excited enough. and well. lance 1. has resting bitch face and 2. never really looks excited about anything. also he lives in a world where take your child to work day somehow became his job. (his dad owns the team).

lewis hamilton was asked what he thought about adrian not going to ferrari, and here's what he had to say:

"i feel like, while I have mentioned before that it would be an honor to work with adrian, i have been privileged to work with two championship winning teams that didnt have adrian."

mclaren announced pato o ward would do FP1 in mexico. who is pato o ward? hes one of mclaren’s indycar drivers and one of the f1 reserve drivers. he is incredibly charming and definitely runs his own social media as seen here:

mclaren Also claim they figured out who their number 2 driver is and they claim its oscar. i say they claim because the statements were a lot more complex than that. essentially, according to andrea stella, the priority is to the team first, then lando and then oscar. so they didn't outright say that oscar is the number 2 driver and i am willing to bet real money that this is because mr mark webber, oscars manager, has something in oscars contract that prevents him from being a number 2 driver. this is of course because mark webber was one of the most infamous number 2 drivers in f1 history to none other than menace war criminal sebastian vettel, who in their time as teammates, managed to win 4 back to back world champions. or, top to bottom if you're mrs darbus from high school musical.

lando was asked about this and he said that yes, the team does support him. though he would not expect oscar to give up a win for him and that it is more complex behind the scenes. i suppose we will see if there are any papaya rules coming out this weekend….

and oscar said "i think the main point is its not purely just going to be me pulling over for lando every single race, because thats how none of us, including lando, wont want to go racing, if we feel that someone has done a much better job on a weekend, whichever way it is, we want that person to be rewarded."

max verstappen commented on the mclaren situation as well. which was funny mostly because red bull has one of the most defined number 1 and number 2 drivers of any team. he said "you look at it form oscar's perspective, he is closer to lando than lando to me. they have to deal with that."

and allow me to put on a tin foil hat as we are about to talk about the future of the red bull seat. because all i have to offer here is a baseball hat and a red bull can.

a long time ago we talked about the red bull cans. the ones that red bull makes to promote f1. at the end of last season red bull put max and checo on the red bull can. this season at the start it was just max on the red bull can. well. now checo has reappeared on the cans too. and i will tell you what i think this means. it means that checo is not getting swapped this season, which was a possibility for awhile.

but! there is more!

daniel ricciardo made an instagram post this week. and it was very interesting. but most interestingly he was wearing a red bull hat.

which he does occasionally, no big deal really. he did race for the for several years, he technically does currently. BUT then he showed up TO THE PADDOCK wearing the red bull hat.

which is Big Interesting. usually you show up in a statement outfit or wearing the team kit. and daniel is not a red bull racing driver. he is a visa cashapp racing bulls driver. they might be owned by red bull but they are Not the same team. so why the red bull hat. in the paddock. well, the rumor is that hes taking checos seat for 2025. and the rumor is that this will be announced before mexico. so checo can have a proper send off.

and with that. the baku lore.

theres a lot that has happened at baku. as i said its a street circuit. and i think its the fastest street circuit. but over the years theres been some notable events.

such as the great kimi raikkonen radio for gloves and steering wheel:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by FORMULA 1® (@f1)

instagram

they gave mini kimi this week gloves and steering wheel in honor of that

the max and daniel crash in 2018 when they were running p1 and p2 respectfully

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by FORMULA 1® (@f1)

instagram

and of course. how could we forget. charles’s infamous “i am stupid” radio.

youtube

speaking of charles, he crashed again in fp1. not quite in the same spot, but nearly. he took a picture with the marshalls.

then in fp2 he rage quit, basically saying that the car sucks.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by FORMULA 1® (@f1)

instagram

but he was back and better than ever in practice three because he managed to top the time charts. welcome back fuck ass ferrari.

some other teams definitely experienced the lows but not really the highs of baku during practice. like lance stroll who came on the radio to say “this is not a car” (good thing they have adrian newey now, right?

franco colapinto also cut his ear before practice on the neck strengthener stretcher thing that they all use and the team wanted to give him stitches but he was like no no no i need to be in the car in about 5 minutes im not doing that. so he jammed on his helmet and jumped in the car. he also crashed and when he went to the medical center he took off his helmet and there was blood everywhere and they were like no no no you cannot race! and he was like no! this is not from the crash! and then explained it and they let him do qualifying.

also im pretty sure? ollie bearman crashed? in practice? but frankly i don't have time to google it so whos to say.

but alas. qualifying.

i know i know this is kind of a shitty update. i promise ill go all out in singapore. i PROMISE.

so as i said. its a street circuit. high speed. 90 degree corners. and also windy as hell. we also had the dynamic duo of karun and harry in the commentary box.

max led the first practice, george led the second and i think charles led the third. or some order like that.

slipstream here is almost essential (slipstream: going behind another car to reduce the wind drag so you can go faster)

charles has the last three pole positions (first in qualifying) here in baku, but he has never won. by comparison, red bull have never had pole here but they have won.

and franco has never been to baku before.

i think that's all the exposition that we need here.

q1 started with max complaining about his car. “the car is jumping around like crazy on the rear axle” he said. despite this he was sitting in p3.

the mid field battle though….the mid field battle was heating the hell up. mostly because none other than franco colapinto, who if you will remember, has never been to baku before, had split the two ferraris. he was in third for the moment, .109 seconds behind carlos sainz and .159 seconds ahead of charles leclerc. we still had a lot of qualifying left to go, so this was probably not going to stay, but it was still insane. he was pushing insanely hard, nearly kissing the walls. clearly he had learned from his crash in practice.

the two mclarens waited until the very end of q1 to do their final flying push lap, and oscar made it through, but tragedy struck for lando.

lando was in the middle of his last flying lap, time was ticking down, and there was a Very Brief yellow flag on the track. now, according to rules, you cannot complete your flying lap if there is a yellow flag. so lando pitted and was stuck down in 17th and out of qualifying. this would be the first time that he was out in q1 since vegas last year (which if i remember correctly was also not his fault)

now though, of course nothing is ever that cut and dry. people thought that there had been a mis showing of a flag. yellow flag means that a car is stopped on track, white flag means that a car is going slowly on the track. and people thought that there had been a yellow flag shown when it was actually supposed to be a white flag (if there had been a white flag then lando would have been able to keep doing his flying lap) lando himself said that he had no idea what people were talking about because there is a light on the steering wheel that lights up when flags are called and he had a big yellow light. so it was clearly a yellow flag.

if you're concerned about lando being able to pull it out of the bag, id like to point you in the direction of the mexican gp last year where lando qualified 17th and finished 5th. on a track that was hard to overtake on. he can be absolutely insane when he wants to be. worry not gentle reader.

in any case. also out in q1 was daniel ricciardo, valtteri bottas, zhou guanyu and esteban ocon.

and notably, williams, who was on fucking fire this weekend as we already saw, finished q1 with alex albon in second (ahead of oscar) and franco colapinto in 8th. pierre gasly had somehow managed to also get into 4th. and nico hulkenberg was in 7th with ollie bearman in 13th. i told you the mid field battle was heating the hell up.

q2. everyone zoomed straight out of the gate. they didn't want to get lando norris’d. but, speaking of that, if lando managed to get no points in the race and charles managed to win, charles would overtake lando in the drivers championship. mark webber himself told this to charles, who was absolutely baffled.

in any case, charles was kinda suffering right now and that was because he was not getting slipstream from carlos to make his lap faster. meanwhile, carlos seemed to be actively trying to give charles the slipstream because he came on radio to say “he keeps missing the tow”

and amazingly, franco colapinto was 4 tenths AHEAD of alex albon. alex albon who had not been unqualified by his teammate once since the start of 2023. ex red bull driver alex albon. that alex albon.

max topped the times in q2, followed immediately by charles. insanely, fernando alonso managed to drag the aston martin to fifth. and franco was right behind him in 6th. by comparison alex albon was in 10th.

and from q2 we lost ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda (who has never qualified lower than 8th in baku), pierre gasly, nico hulkenberg and lance stroll. so yes, ollie bearman managed to outqualify nico hulkenberg. this is ollies second ever f1 race.

steaming on forward to q3.

we had, for review, in q3 the following:

both ferraris, both red bulls, both mercedes, both WILLIAMS (has not happened since vegas 2023), plus fernando alonso and oscar piastri.

right out the gate it was wild.

“red bull! theyve re found their mojo! or have they!” karun said. red bull were in 5th and 6th and not entirely sucking for the moment.

everyone did one flyer and then came out at the end for a second flyer.

here were the standings:

charles, carlos, oscar, george, checo, max, lewis, alex, franco, fernando

and everyone was making it to the line and all was going smooth until-

wait a second what is that

could it be! alex albon! with the air box fan still on his car! surely not!!!

oh but it was! and harry and karun were like oh wow so unfortunate for williams tisk tisk

meanwhile ted jumped on the radio to Loudly announce to everyone that this was insane and if i have time here i will put the rant he ranted cause it was Fantastic.

and what do you know i have time

so we had 3 minutes left qualifying and everyone was pulling out of the pits for their last flyer when oscar hopped on the radio to say

"the williams still has the air box fan in"

"oh what an error! disaster for williams!" karun and harry said. they speculated if the marshalls could get it or if the session needed to be red flagged. but alex threw the fan off the car.

and then they asked "ted have you ever seen that before?" and ted did not hold back:

"ITS A MASSIVE YELLOW FAN HOW COULD YOU MISS IT???!!! HOW COULD THE MECHANICS MISS IT???? I CANT BELIVE THEY WOULD MAKE SUCH A MISTAKE DOWN AT WILLIAMS! SUCH AN EXPERIENCED BUNCH OF GUYS AND GIRLS! WHAT IS GOING ON AT WILLIAMS OPERATIONALLY? HOW COULD YOU SEND A CAR OUT LIKE THAT?"

alex, obviously, got fined for an unsafe release 5k euros. he also had to throw the fan off to the side and got slightly covered in dry ice. he did not get to the a second flying lap.

franco did tho!

and here were out qualifying results:

p1: charles p2: oscar p3: carlos p4: checo p5: george p6: max p7: lewis p8: fernando p9: franco p10: alex p11: ollie p12: yuki p13: pierre p14: nico p15: lance p16: daniel p17: lando p18: valtteri p19: zhou p20: esteban

oh ho ho but we werent done yet. because pierre gasly got disqualified from qualifying. for failing fuel flow regulations. and lewis was going to have to start from the pit lane for changing his power unit.

everyone, and by everyone i mean oscar max and checo, pretty much said that charles was going to get pole no matter what, they knew this coming in and the best they were trying for was second

onto the race.

notably, this is considered a checo track. this was one of the three races that max did not win last year. because checo won it. its a track that he does well on, evidenced by the fact that he qualified above max in qualifying. so people were expecting big things from him.

and so, we head into lap 1.

charles managed to hang onto the lead. checo passed carlos straight out of the gate for third and max managed to pass george to take fifth. lando had managed to get ahead of nico and up into 13th. notably, franco held onto 8th and ollie was able to hold onto tenth.

someone who was not doing well was lance stroll, who came on the radio saying that he had a puncture. this was from contact with yuki. lance had to pit for fresh tires and was pretty immediately thrown to the back of the grid.

by lap 2 lando had managed to get past daniel and was in 12th, he was trying to get past yuki next, which he managed by lap 3. yuki also lost a spot to nico.

also slaying in the mclaren was oscar, who took fastest lap. then charles took fastest lap.

and lewis hamilton, who had started from the pit lane, was up to 16th. already. somehow. though he was displeased with the tires, sayig that “this tire is pretty bad” over the radio.

yuki meanwhile was clearly having a problem because he had started going very very slowly. thought the pit wall said that he had no problems. this would later turn out to be false but we will indulge them for the time being.

franco was STILL ahead of alex albon on lap 6. STILL.

lando on lap 8 managed to push his way into points positions, overtaking ollie bearman for 10th. though this was where things were about to slow down for him because in front of him were alex, franco and fernando, who were all very close together and would be hard to get past.

george was back in bad luck hell as a plastic bag entered his airbox. will he ever catch a break.

on lap 11 nico hulkenberg finally caught up with ollie bearman and passed him for 11th.

and max’s car was not working. to potentially no one’s surprise. “i have zero bite in the car” he said. and this was probably true because checo was a whole 6.5 seconds ahead of him. insane gap.

several pit stops later that i will not detail out because we simply do not have the time, alex albon ended up in 4th and lando ended up in fifth. and oscar was about to get undercut by checo.

“mojo seems to be back for checo perez” harry said, correctly.

mojo was back for him indeed. and now he was right behind lando.

and if you will recall, according to mclaren themselves, priority at mclaren is the team first, then oscar, then lando. but oscar was ahead of lando. so what did mclaren do?

they asked lando do hold up perez, but not compromise his own race.

remever a long time ago when i said mclaren wouldn't have any internal drama this season? man how i was wrong.

lando managed to hold up perez for around a lap or two before he got past. this was crucial because this was during when oscar was in the pits.

thanks to lando and the power of the papaya rules teamwork, oscar ended up coming out in 4th, only .706s ahead of checo.

mclaren are working together everyone! mclaren are working together!

meanwhile, turns out that yuki did indeed have problems because he retired on lap 17 with a hole in his sidepod from the contact with lance on lap 1. this was now two races in a row where he had had to retire for reasons out of his control.

several more people pitted. and eventually charles was back out in front, oscar was in p2. until he wasn't. no, he didn't dnf. he overtook charles! he was in p1! he popped out of nowhere! nowhere being 2 car lengths back and just flooring it to spring around charles like a little silly slinky! karun called it a “good, fair and robust defense,” which sounds like its descibing notes in wine. but this was not wine. this was the baku gp. and we were only half done.

ollie bearman was defending against lewis hamilton, holding on tightly to 14th place.

charles was still behind oscar and he could not get past, despite the fact that he was still very much in spitting distance. “they are pushing like crazy or they have more grip than us” he said.

carlos got past both lando and alex albon and was up into 4th

this brought max up behind lando. max was on 11 lap old tires and lando was on 24 lap old tires. but lando still defended like hell and managed to hold onto sixth. max was 0.632 seconds behind lando on lap 25 when he said that “my brakes are not working.” this was hardly a surprise. max has hated the car since china.

also experiencing technical difficulties was sir lewis hamilton. he was stuck down in 14th and was first told to do “everything you can do to get the surface temp down” of the tires. he said “im trying” then several laps later on lap 29 he came on the radio to say “are you seeing how i have to drive this thing?” “yes,” bono, his engineer said. “quite effective though.”

max was still half a second behind lando. mclaren faked a pit stop call over the radio to get max to pit. he did not.

but, george russell did manage to pass him. which was “not good for max’s world champion aspirations.”

this was also when ted very bafflingly said that “if i had a sofa in the pit lane i would be jumping up and down on it” im not sure what that was in response to.

meanwhile, ollie was still holding off sir lewis hamilton. and charles was trying to get oscar to pit again by lying over the radio. it was not working.

lando did a pit stop finally and came out a whole 15 second behind max. he was hoping to catch max by the end of the race. but it might be tight. lets go last lap lando.

“lando, imagine andrea on your shoulder saying ‘zero wheel spin’ in every exit,” lando’s race engineer said. if you're confused, everyone else was too.

10 laps to go and here were the order of affairs:

oscar

+.449s charles +1.865s checo +2.989s carlos +16.530s george +1.909s max +11.535s lando +9.715s fernando +2.589s alex +2.451s nico +4.667s franco +1.590s lewis +1.261s ollie +1.791s pierre +9.205s daniel +23.919s esteban +.789s lance +3.862s valtteri +3.631s guanyu

lando was determined. he took fastest lap on lap 43 and was 8.8s behind max

at this point, the leaders were starting to lap the cars in the back. “the back markers are starting to come up,” checo’s engineer said to him. “its going to get messy.”

“hold onto your hats and if you don't have one go get one and hold onto it” harry said. harry would turn out to be correct.

we had the top 3 all running very close to eachother, that was oscar, charles and checo and “welcome to the party carlos sainz!” who was now 1.2 seconds behind checo in the four way battle for the lead.

definitely not leading was lance stroll, who retired on lap 47 with a brake problem.

oscar managed to pull ahead of charles by 1.5 seconds, finally knocking him out of DRS range. so now it was a three way battle for second. and charles had “no rear tires. no rear tires at all.”

and, just like i said he would, lando managed to pass max on lap 49. he was closing the gap slowly in the championship.

“verstappen’s day goes from bad to worse,” harry said. because lando still had fastest lap, so he would score 3 more points than max. which is important if lando wants to beat max in the championship (though i think hes still like 60 points behind)

meanwhile! franco managed to pass nico hulkenberg for 10th! he was in the points!!!! at his second race!!!

but this was short lived because there was a crash! a big smackeroo! between carlos and checo!! checo was mad, carlos didn't know what happened.

what happened was that carlos was trying to pass checo but checo did not move over. it was deemed an equal fault accident. both of them were utterly confused at what happened and apparently spent 20 minutes in the medical center being utterly lost and aparently saying that sometimes this sport sucks. and! contrary to what several people said! checo did not bang on carlos’s helmet after the crash.

the crash actually caused chef's dad to have a heart attack. he is stable now.

and well. this clip of george from the post qualifying interviews definitely didnt age well:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Mahir (@f1trollguy)

instagram

but! since we were a matter of a few laps from the end, this meant that the rest of the race was finished under a virtual safety car.

which meant

OSCAR PIASTRI WINS THE AZERBAIJAN GP

and george inherited p3!

and on his own merit too! no safety cars, no team orders, no weird shit!

“yes!” he whispered over the radio.

he almost fell getting out of the car, then gave us all the “one moment” hand gesture before properly celebrating.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by FORMULA 1® (@f1)

instagram

he also got driver of the day!

(this was marginally better than george russell, who said over the radio “i cant get any rubber (to pick up on his tires) all im getting is leaves”)

gunther steiner also hosted the post race interviews. which was interesting.

george said that the most difficult part of the race was “driving full gas into a wall of carbon fiber on the penultimate lap…the vsc should have come out sooner”

charles bashed ferrari because they didn't do any high fuel runs in practice.

oscar was entirely pleased. “i managed to overtake and hold onto it for the next 35 laps..one of the better races of my career.” and honestly, oscar winning a race straight after mclaren basically announcing that he was their number 2 driver is nothing short of hilarious.

and! mclaren was now leading the constructors championship by 20 points! for the first time in ten years!!!!

the top three had a moment outside of the car that was filled with baffled:

and oscar's engineer tom got to stand on the podium with him. he usually takes a selfie with oscar after each race he podiums at, but he was too excited to so george took this picture for them

(george also aparently demomished oscar in a game of uno on the plane, immediately humbling him)

george also shielded himself from the champagne on the podium

the cooldown room reacted to the crash in a very straight forward manner:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by FORMULA 1® (@f1)

instagram

and very quickly cause its midnight and the singapore gp starts in 8 hours, the post race, speed ran:

-mark webber told off laura winter for thinking that oscar didn't have good tire management

-alex albon was “super happy, that's a lot of points for us” (williams finished in 7th and 8th). he cut his own interview short when ollie bearman arrived, saying “I can go, im happy to go” and then waving comically.

-williams was so pleased with this result they blasted everyone with champagne. and they overtook alpine in the constructors championship! this was also their best race finish all season

-(and a quick note, if youre going to really blame logan for being that shit of a driver here, please remember that the car he was driving was several rounds of upgrades behind alex's pretty much the entire time he was driving it)

-ollie became the first driver to ever score points in his first two races for two different constructors because the double dnf pushed him up to 10th place. he said that there was not much difference between the haas and the ferrari, the ferrari was just red

-franco continued to charm everyone and flirt with the reporters.

-they interviewed george and lewis and the camera had to be adjusted for george's height. it was comical and resulted in my favorite edit so far of the season (sound on)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 𝖠𝗅�� 𝖦𝗈𝗈𝖽. 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝖶𝖺𝗒𝗌. (@f1foryou1)

instagram

-lando looked pleased and happy for once. he said about holding off checo that “i didn't hold him up i just had to cool my tires a little.” he was delighted to be leading the constructors for the first time in ten years and he defended alex albon saying “i struggled to get past alex for a while, which is common, alex doesnt make mistakes.” he also ratted on max for going to fast during the VSC and said “i didn't complain, facts were stated.” and to sum it all up he said that “im executing things well, i’m very quick…i’m not going to be the happiest guy, but i am never the happiest guy….car is performing well everywhere…some red cars behind us seem to be our biggest competitors right now”

-by comparison george insulted all of pirelli. the tire people. “pretty infuriating that it (the pace) changes this so much….its black magic, people who make the tires don't understand the tires…..for 20 laps we had a car not worthy of points and for 20 laps we had a car fighting for victory and the only difference is the tires.”

-lewis was notably upset after the race and walked through the paddock with his helmet on, not wanting to talk to anyone. but he did talk to franco and ollie and congratulate them on a job well done defending against him and racing against him. franco even fangirled over this on his instagram.

-charles was clearly upset with ferrari. he was so upset he posted a thirst trap.

-and oscar. oscar was very happy this afternoon. and his mom was there! she doesnt usually come cause it scares her, but nicole was there today!

-mclaren celebrated with a hell of a lot of champagne. both oscar’s wina and lando’s insane recovery, and the fact that they were leading the championship. red bull have been dethroned, at least for now.

-there was so much champagne that lando took off his socks to spray it. all seems well at mclaren.

-at least one thing is for sure, oscar had a better time here this weekend than last year when he got food poisoning and only ate four pieces of toast

and with that. we head into singapore. quite literally as it is starting in a few hours. again, i apologixe about this post. its a little sad, but the next one will be better. pinkly promise.

see you all soon!!!

#not a tag #from saph #saph explains silly season 2024 #im so sorry this is so late i am sooooo sorry aaaaaa #i will get my shit together #baku 2024 #Instagram #Youtube

669 notes · View notes

munsonsmixtapes · 10 days ago

Text

The Prophecy

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

After recommending a movie to you, Steve invited you you over to watch it with him and to his surprise, you agree.

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I have no idea why I never posted it.

Based on “The Prophecy” by Taylor Swift because that song is Steve.

Steve would be the first to admit that his sex life is nothing but vanilla. He’s always on top and always so sweet and gentle. But now he’s starting to wonder if that’s the problem. If that’s the reason why women don’t seem to want anything more than a one night stand.

He doesn’t get it. He used to be King Steve and now he can’t even get a call back? What the fuck is that about? He goes on a date almost every night and still somehow the only action he gets is with his hand.

The “you suck” side of Robin’s board is so full that she had to get another one and what started as a harmless joke has now made Steve start to think badly about himself. He used to have so much confidence and now it’s withering away bit by bit with each rejection.

He thinks all hope is lost until you walk in to Family Video. You’re all smiles as you ask him for a suggestion and he’s convinced it’s all a prank. It’s going too well if he’s being honest. You’re laughing at his jokes and genuinely seem interested in what he’s recommending. He’s now wondering if Robin put you up to this so he’d stop complaining to her about being single.

He decides it doesn’t matter and that he’s going to play along because you’re pretty and now he’s following you around the store like a lost puppy, holding a large stack of tapes that you’ve handed to him. Normally, he hates when people treat him like he’s their personal shopper but he’s going to let you do whatever you damn well please. You might as well tell him to jump because he’ll ask how high.

“Is this one any good?” You ask, holding up a tape to him and he audibly gasps. He didn’t think anyone hadn’t seen the movie so the fact that you haven’t is genuinely shocking to him.

“You’ve never seen the Princess Bride?” He’s acting like he just witnessed you commit a crime. Sure, you’ve heard of the movie and listened to people rave about it, but there’s something about it that turns you off.

“No,” you shake your head and Steve plucks the VHS from your hand and heads over to the counter with you following him.

“I can’t allow that. You’ve gotta watch it. It’s one of the best movies of all time. So, I’m renting it to you.”

“Well, maybe we can watch it together.” Are you…flirting? He hasn’t been flirted with in so long that he’s having a hard time telling whether it’s that or you’re just being friendly.

“Y-yeah. I’ve got whole movie theater in my basement. We can watch it there.” That’s become his make out spot when everyone found out about skull rock, but this time, he just wants to watch a movie with you.

“It’s a date,” you glance at his name tag to get his name. “Steve. Can I call you, Stevie?”

“You can call me anything you want.” He internally cringes at his words, but you seem so into it that he can’t possibly take them back.

“Well, I’m y/n, but you can call me anything you want.” The line completely goes over his head as all he can focus on is your name. He’s heard so much about you and now that he can put a face to a name, he finally understands.

You’re new to Hawkins and it’s clear that you’re the talk of the town as everyone seems to want a chance to either be you or under you. And he can see why. You’re sweet and very easy on the eyes. You’re probably the most stunning woman he’s ever seen and you’re flirting with him? He’s wondering if this is some sort of cruel prank.

You set your purse on the counter then pull out a notebook and pen from it before setting them both on the counter in front of him. “Here, write down your address and I’ll write down my number and you can call me whenever you’re available.”

He’s scribbling down his information so quickly that he’s afraid you can’t read it. But you read over the words without a word then scribble down your number before ripping off the piece and handing it to him. You then put your things back into your purse before pulling out some cash to pay for your rental.

“Oh, he’s always available. How does tonight sound?” Robin has inserted herself into the conversation and Steve really wishes she hadn’t. He can get a date all by himself thank you very much.

“Stop helping me,” he whispers to her and he really hopes you can’t hear him.

“Tonight is perfect,” you smile and Steve swears he’s already in love with you. “Call me when you get off?”

“Oh, he’ll be getting off, alright,” Robin says under her breath and Steve is quick to elbow her in the stomach.

“Seriously, stop,” he turns to her to give her a glare and you honestly just find their whole dynamic to be funny, like siblings. Steve slides the VHS across the counter to you along with your change and as soon as you’re gone, he’s going to let Robin have it.

They’re so engrossed in their conversation that they haven’t even noticed that you’ve left your purse. The bright pink thing is sitting there in front of them they’re not even aware, too caught up in their silly conversation.

“I’m helping you get laid and this is how you repay me?” She asks, leaning against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t need your help,” he tells her as he heads over to the cart of returns to put them away and Robin follows.

“Clearly you do. Or else I wouldn’t have had to step in.”

“I was fine. I’ve still got it.” He honestly doesn’t know how he even got a date with you since he almost always flounders now. Maybe this will be the one that finally sticks.

“Good for you, dingus, you scored a date with the hottest woman in town. Maybe this time I’ll actually be able to put a tally in the “you rule” column.”

Robin knows that it’s a cruel joke to make when he’s so sensitive about the whole thing, but she can’t figure out why. Even thought hasn’t been and will never be attracted to him, she totally understands the appeal. He’s sweet and funny and much more intelligent than people give him credit for. She doesn’t know why he can’t seem to find someone to settle down with when that’s really all he wants.

She knows he’s not as happy as he lets on, that he’s much more lonely than he tells people he is. That he always goes out with his friends or is over at her house because his is far too big to be alone in.

That’s why he’s always got a girl in his bed so he won’t be going to sleep alone, but that’s how he always wakes up as they always leave him before he’s awake.

It’s not fair, she thinks. That everyone has seemed to have found his person but not him. He’s such a fucking catch so it just doesn’t make sense. She’s really hoping that maybe you’ll be the one.

“Fuck off,” he shoves her away with a laugh. He’s being a good sport about the whole thing, at least that’s what everyone thinks. No one knows that sometimes he’ll go home and have a good cry in the shower because of how alone he feels. And he feels so fucking pathetic for it, but it's the only way he knows how to cope.

The bell above the door jingles, signaling that a customer has entered the store. Steve and Robin turn to see Dustin carrying a stack of VHS tapes he's going to return. He's got a bright smile on his face as usual as he makes his way over to the counter where Steve meets him.

“Everyone’s coming over tonight to watch Star Wars if you guys wanna join,” Dustin says as Steve returns the movies to the system.

“I’ll be there, but Steve has a date,” Robin replies, patting Steve on the shoulder in a congratulatory manner.

“Right, with your hand, a sock, and a bottle of lotion, just like every night?” Dustin is wearing a knowing look and Robin is grimacing in disgust while Steve’s cheeks turn bright pink.

“No,” Steve glares. “With a girl. We’re going to watch the Princess Bride.”

“What’s her name?” He’s asking in a way that makes it seem like he doesn’t believe Steve, but he does. Dustin just likes to give him shit any chance he gets.

“Y/n.” Steve’s tone is smug and Dustin scoffs in response because now he really doesn’t believe him. There’s no fucking way that he scored a date with you of all people. Maybe back in his “King Steve” days, but definitely not now.

“Y/n as in y/n l/n? No way dude. She’s way out of your league.” Dustin is laughing now as if he’s just heard the most funny joke.

“Gee, thanks, Henderson.” Steve grabs the tapes now that he’s put them back in the system, then turns his back, heading for the break room because it’s time for his thirty. He doesn’t have time for this.

He can hear the two of them still yapping as he closes the door. He reaches for his punch card, punching that he’s on his break then grabs his lunchbox from the fridge before sitting down at the table with a sigh.

“She gave him her number and everything. And let me tell you, she’s even hotter than they say.” Robin had never seen you in person until tonight and she totally understands why everyone is head over heels for you.

“Don’t believe me?” She asks, eyeing the purse on the counter that you had apparently left.

“This could be anybody’s,” Dustin glares at her just as you enter the store again. All of the air is sucked out of his lungs as he’s come to the realization that you are in fact real.

“Totally forgot my purse,” you tell Robin with a little laugh as you grab the thing from the counter, slinging it over your shoulder. You then turn in Dustin’s direction, staring at him with your signature bright smile. “And who might you be?” You ask, and Dustin’s mouth goes bone dry as he looks up at you. You really are hotter than they say.

“D-“ he clears his throat before trying to introduce himself again. “Dustin.”

“Dustin,” you repeat and his name sounds so angelic coming from your mouth. “That’s cute. Well, it was nice to meet you Dustin and I'll see you, Rob,” you wave at her from over your shoulder like you’re old friends and yeah, she’s going to be thinking about that for a very long time.

You flee the store yet again and Dustin’s eyes are following you as Robin opens a magazine, staring down at the page to hide her blushing cheeks. He’s trying to figure out how he can become four years older while Robin is crossing her fingers that you’re also into girls.

They both know it’s pathetic, especially since you’re going out with Steve tonight, but they can’t help it. There’s just something about you that draws people to you, like they’re all sailors being lured to their deaths and damn if that isn’t a good way to go.

It’s the way you carry yourself, as if you don’t have a care in the world. And you don’t. You just go around with all of that confidence and maybe that’s why everyone either envies or wants you. You never pay attention to that, though.

None of them truly know you and they don’t care to either. You’re just something pretty to look at, someone who will look good on their arm, but the second they get you into bed or even hang out with you with everyone watching, they’ll leave you in the drop of a hat. Because really, all they want is for you to make them look good.

But Steve? He actually treated you like a person. He wasn’t falling all over you, just genuinely trying to help you find a movie. You’re not usually one to randomly ask someone out, in fact, the whole thing made you super nervous. But he was so eager to agree and that made you feel like your usual self again.

You've heard a lot about Steve. You know his reputation and how he's very popular with the ladies, so you're surprised that he's available on a Saturday night. You figured that someone else would have already snatched him up and put a ring on it. You're both about that age now so it's honestly surprising that he's single. How has no woman in Hawkins come to their senses and married this man? You suppose you should be grateful since you're the lucky woman he's invited over tonight.

Steve exits the break room as soon as his break is over still thinking about you and how he still can't believe how you actually asked him out. The prettiest girl in Hawkins. Maybe he really does still have game.

He makes his way over to Robin feeling more confident than he has a long time. She's scribbling something down in a notebook and he lets out a deep sigh. He was really hoping that she would have gotten bored of that stupid game by now. But apparently not.

As always, his love life has just become a joke to everyone. Because it's just so funny that poor Stevie can't get a date. He'll die alone while everyone else will end up with someone. That's just his fate, he thinks.

The rest of the night goes by so slowly. It's almost painful for Steve to look at the clock, watching the minutes tick by at a glacial pace. He has never been so eager to go home, actually wanting to be there for the first time in a long time.

He's so close to asking Robin to close up for him because he just realized he doesn't have anything to eat or drink besides shitty beer and a pizza that's been in his freezer since he was a kid. But he decides that he'll just hurry to the store on his way home because he's already had her close for him more times than he can count.

"Would it offend you if I picked out your outfit for tonight? Because no offense, Steve, but this,” Robin refers to his outfit. "Is just not going to cut it.”

“Gee, thanks, Rob.” He's already nervous enough and doesn't need Robin making him second guess what he's going to wear even though he was already going to anyway.

“I'm just saying, would it kill you to switch it up every once in a while?”

“Are you of all people seriously trying to give me fashion advice right now?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she leans against the counter, fixing Steve with a glare. He doesn't actually mean it, he just suddenly feels a lot of pressure about tonight and he's taking it out on her.

"Nothing, I'm just nervous, alright?" He runs a hand through his hair and just by the look on his face, she can see that he's telling the truth.

"Thought you didn't get nervous." She's smiling smugly now and Steve really doesn't appreciate it.

He ignores her and rounds the counter, making his way over to the door, turning the sign to signify that the store is now closed. He's now counting the minutes until he's able to go home, actively watching the hands on his watch tick, tick, tick by.

"I haven't done this in a while, alright?" He asks as he locks the door. "I'm a little rusty."

"A little?” She scoffs and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Alright a lot.”

“You need to relax. It’s just a date.” But it’s not, not to Steve. He thinks this could actually be something and he hopes he doesn’t blow it this time.

“So are you getting out of here or what?”

“What?” The question genuinely catches him off guard. He didn’t think she’d actually want to close for him since she’s done it so many times in the past.

“I can hold down the fort. Go get the girl, Steve.” He smiles widely, before pressing a kiss to Robin's cheek before hurrying out the door to his car. For once, he actually thinks he has a chance and he’s totally going to take it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n

289 notes · View notes

godmadeaterribleerror · 10 days ago

Text

You Can Feel It - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Main Masterlist - Series Masterlist

Author's Note: They are in 2026 because I am bad at math. Enjoy!

Chapter Title from You Are In Love by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 8.6k

Summary/Warnings: Ben has a birthday. Takes place on May 19th, post-series.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, pre-established relationship, so much horniness, smut (breeding kink, oral, fingering, p in v)

Read on A03!

She was planning something.

And She was always planning something, but this time, it was different.

This time, Ben had asked Her not to plan anything, and She was fucking doing it anyway.

“Ben.” She’d hummed a few months ago, straddling him in bed and holding his face between Her hands. “Your birthday is next month.”

He’d scowled. “How the fuck do you know that-“

“Because you’re my husband, and I love you very much, and,” She’d smiled at him, all Her love infinite and humming in Ben’s body. “You told me.”

“I didn’t fucking tell you so it could be celebrated, Sunshine.” He’d grunted, rubbing small circles on Her thighs, and She’d frowned at him.

“You don’t want us to celebrate your birthday?”

“No. I fucking don’t.”

“Why?” She’d leaned forward, pressing Her brow to Ben’s. “Most people never get to be a hundred and seven, and have a party where they can like, fucking walk around-“

Ben had snorted, and cut Her off with a long, deep kiss. Smartass. You like that I’m fucking old-

I know. She’d mumbled between their heads, Her fingers curling against Ben’s chest. But I think my point still stands-

I am not having a fucking birthday party.

Why? She’d pulled back, Her face wide and open and so fucking beautiful, and Ben had sighed.

Because I’m not some fucking pussy child who needs cake to know I aged a year.

What if I need cake to know you’ve aged a year? She’d raised Her brows. Can we do it then?

No.

But you did cake for Ryan’s birthday-

Ryan’s a literal fucking child. And he’d needed it. Ben had frowned at the air. Kid kept goddamn apologizing for being born.

She’d sighed, and leaned fully forward to bury Her face in Ben’s chest. I know. And you were so good to him, Ben, but maybe I, She’d grinded down on him, and Ben had grunted as his cock twitched in his sweats. Fucking Christ, She was too perfect. It was going to goddamn kill him. Want to be good to you.

You are good to me, Sunshine. Ben had thrusted up in a pretty fucking genius move of retaliation, and She’d whined as he squeezed Her ass. You’re fucking perfect, and I goddamn love you, and that’s it. I don’t fucking need anything else-

What if I want to give you other things?

Then you can let me fuck you stupid, darling.

She’d mumbled something that sounded like fucking cunt, and Ben had laughed, leaning down to press a kiss on the top of Her head.

“Fucking brat.” He’d murmur in Her ear, and She’d let out a long breath, leaning back with a soft smile.

“I’m not going to push it,” She’d whispered. “But can you please tell me why you don’t want to celebrate your birthday? I- I know it’s painful, Ben.” Her hand had glided up to rest of his chest, and he’d tensed. “I can feel it here. Please.”

He’d taken a heavy, slow breath, and there was nothing in the fucking world he wouldn’t give Her or do in Her name. It was why after this, he had to get up and let the damn cat out, and later he’d be picking their son up from school, and then he’d make Her a good fucking dinner and fuck Her until she was a writhing, happy mess below him.

Bu that also meant he had to give Her the damn truth.

And Ben didn’t lie to his wife anyway.

But he’d really been hoping to not talk about this one.

“Last year.” He’d muttered, holding Her sharp, pretty gaze as he spoke, and running a hand under Her shirt—his shirt, looking fucking perfect on Her body—to hold Her by the waist. “My birthday was fucking shit. And I don’t want to celebrate it again.”

“Last-“ Her eyes had widened slightly, and Ben had felt Her still. Almost felt Her own cold, deep fear creep into his own blood, Her heartbeat picking up in his ears. “Oh.”

He’d nodded, pulling Her a little tighter into his chest. “Spent the whole fucking day missing you, and wishing you were home. Didn’t feel like there was fucking shit to celebrate without you, and I’m too damn old for birthdays. Won’t be enough candles in the fucking world.”

“I could find them.” She’d mumbled. “Or just be the candle myself. And I’m here now, Ben.”

“I know you are, Sunshine.” He’d sighed, pressing kiss to the top of Her head. “And that’s all I fucking need. No party.”

She’d hummed, and they’d stayed just like for a while longer before the day had started. Ben had even gotten to haul Her up on the dresser, and fucked Her until he was marking Her legs and abdomen with his release, and Her eyes were glazed with something other than pain.

He’d hoped She’d forget. Or just let it the fuck go.

He should have known better.

Because Ben knew She was planning something. Whenever he asked what the fuck are you up to, Sunshine, She’d just smile at him and shrug.

Which meant She couldn’t answer. Because whatever She said would be a goddamn lie.

So She was fucking planning something.

Ben cornered Annie at a team meeting night—Hughie would have been easier, but the pussy had stayed home with their stupid damn baby, so Ben was stuck with Annie—and tried for just one fucking answer.

It didn’t work.

“I’m not saying anything, Ben.” Annie didn’t even look up from her cooking, when he approached. “So don’t bother trying.”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “So there is fucking something.”

Annie just shrugged, and didn’t say another goddamn word.

Butcher wasn’t any better.

“Didn’t even know you had a birthday, Gov.” He drawled, and Ben scowled.

“I wasn’t made in a fucking lab, you asscuck-“

“Shit, that’s right, ain’t it.” Butcher grinned at him, spinning around in his chair. “Nothin’ but pure natural genetics in your pretty face, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart-“

“Shame, though. I’d shoot my shot with ya, Mate, if your lady wouldn’t fuckin’ burn my eyeballs out.” Butcher whistled, and just kept goddamn spinning. “America’s first cunt family-“

“Butcher.” Frenchie had wheeled into view from the backroom, where all the drugs Ben wasn’t allowed to touch were kept. “I will not save you if he shoots you. I will laugh.”

“Not my fault the cunt’s so bloody fun to push.” Butcher had rolled his eyes, and started wheeling to the room, taking a million goddamn years. “How’s the new gun comin’?”

Ben had fucking known wheelie chairs would be a horrible fucking idea. But nobody goddamn listened to him but Her.

Maybe not Her.

He was going out of his fucking mind about it. She wouldn’t just ignore him like that, but She was also fucking hiding something. And She didn’t have a golden fucking record on the things She hid from Ben. The last thing She’d hidden was that she’d been taking fucking drugs that made Her think he didn’t love Her. Bad shit happened when She goddamn hid things from him.

And it was good that they were all so fucking loyal to Her. Nobody deserved it more than She did, and nobody had earned it more either.

But nobody would fucking tell Ben shit. Kimiko just ignored him. Hughie got all fucking red-faced and ran away like a goddamn coward, and MM just muttered trust your wife, man.

Ben did fucking trust Her.

Just not Her brilliant, stupid fucking plans.

“Ryan.” He grunted in the kitchen, and Ryan looked up with the same open, wide-eyed look that crossed Her face so often.

The kid had been picking up a lot of Her habits. He was even tapping his pencil on the papers as he waited for Ben to continue.

She was such a good fucking mother. And if Ben had any damn say in it, Ryan would have a sibling by the end of the year. They fucked too often for it not to happen.

Not the fucking point right now. Picturing Her with a soft smile and baby in Her arms, talking to Ryan about some smart shit while Ben took care of everything else wasn’t going to help him figure out what the fuck She was planning.

“My birthday is next weekend.” Ben watched Ryan carefully as he spoke. “You know anything about that shit?”

Ryan frowned at him. “About your birthday?”

Ben gave a short nod, and Ryan shrugged.

“I know that it’s next week. May 19th. And you’re going to be a hundred and seven, which means you were born in 1919. Huh, there’s a lot of nineteens in your birthday-“

“Ryan.” Ben grunted, and—just fucking like Her—the kid’s mouth snapped shut. “I know when my own damn birthday is. What the fucking is happening.”

“You’re getting older?”

Christ on a fucking cross, She’d trained the kid well. “Well, what the fuck is happening on the day.”

“Um, it’s a Tuesday, so I think I have a math test-“

Ben grunted Her name, bracing his arms on the counter and leaning forward. “What the fuck is she planning?”

Ryan swallowed, his heartbeat picking up slightly. Not enough for fear.

The exact, frantic pace of a fucking lie.

“I- I think she told me she’s got a meeting about some new lawsuits against Vought-“

“For my birthday. I know she’s up to something, Ryan. Tell me.”

Ryan blinked at him, his mouth opening slowly, and Ben fucking had it-

“Don’t answer that, Ryan.” She fucking materialized in the kitchen, and Ben scowled.

You were supposed to be in the fucking bathroom, Sunshine-

I finished. She moved to Ryan’s side, glaring at Ben over his head. “Stop bullying my son, Benjamin.”

Ben managed to roll his eyes, although She could probably feel the warmth building in his chest from how Ryan sat a little taller at Her words.

Her son.

God fucking dammit.

“I’m not bullying him-“

“Yes, you were.”

Ryan looked up at Her with wide, nervous eyes. “He- he wasn’t-“

“I know, Ry.” She gave him a soft smile, and Ben couldn’t even hold his scowl. “I’m giving him shit because he’s a cunt.”

Brat.

Shut up. “You want to go get ready for bed?”

Ryan nodded, shuffling away with an almost worried look in Ben’s direction, and he gave a small nod in return. He was a grown fucking man. He’d be fine.

She was just as fucking terrifying as She was beautiful, when Her glare turned back in his direction, but Ben would be fine.

She loved him.

She still looked fucking pissed.

“Hi, Sunshine-“

“Don’t hi, Sunshine, me, you old fuckhat.”

Shit.

“Don’t, push him like that, Ben-“

“I wasn’t fucking pushing him-“

“Yes, you were. And I- He worships the fucking ground you walk on Ben, and he would have told you-“

“Why don’t you want him to tell me?” Ben snapped, forcing his voice to stay firm, but even. He wouldn’t yell at Her. Ever. Even when She was being an infuriating, perfect pain in his ass. “No secrets, Sunshine-“

“It’s not a secret-“

“You just won’t fucking tell me-“

“Because I- I’m saving it, Ben-“

“For my birthday.” His jaw clenched, his words pushed through his teeth. “I told you I didn’t want to fucking celebrate it-“

“I- I know-“ She shook Her head, Her voice growing soft. “I do, I promise, and I’m going to listen to you. No party, no big deal, there’s just something else and I can’t tell you yet, but I want to, and I- I love you, I’m sorry.”

She’d fucking apologized. And pressed herself back against the counter.

Away from Ben.

Fucking- That wasn’t supposed to fucking happen. Ever. Ben couldn’t even goddamn really remember why he’d been that made, he just wanted Her to come back and stop looking so fucking sad. It was making him feel heavy and a little choked, his fists clenching to grab for Her, pull Her into his chest and make Her feel better, do whatever he had to for Her to smile again, and stop moving away from him.

Ben muttered Her name, taking a careful step forward, relief crashing through his chest like a goddamn wave when She didn’t flinch away. It was just one fucking fight. Couples fought.

And he’d fix it. For Her, he’d fucking apologize on his goddamn knees like some pussy.

Ben could fix it.

“I- I’m sorry-“

“Don’t.” He grunted, taking another step, and She leaned into him immediately. Pressing Her face into Ben’s chest and wrapping Her arms around his torso, clinging to him even though he was the fucking shitfuck asshole who made the most perfect woman in the world cry. There was a weak sound that left Her throat, ripping through Ben’s body and strangling his chest, but he kept himself upright and held Her against his body.

He kept Her there for a few minutes until Her heart and breathing were steady, then tugged lightly on Her hair until her head tipped back, Her eyes glossy as they met his.

Listen. He let out a slow breath, dropping his brow to Her’s. I fucking love you-

I- I know, Ben, but-

No. I love you, and I trust you, and I was wrong. Shouldn’t have pushed Ryan, when I trust you. I just- He took another heavy breath, and shook his head against Her’s. Fucking Christ, Sunshine, that was the worst goddamn month of my life. Spent the whole fucking day just missing you and thinking about how I couldn’t help you.

You did help me-

Didn’t fucking feel like it in the moment. Ben grunted between their heads, his grip on Her tightening slightly. And I’m a hundred and fucking seven. Goddamn stupid to celebrate that.

She hummed, offering him a small smile. I don’t think it’s stupid.

Of course you don’t. He chuckled, moving to press a kiss to Her brow. I’m sorry, Sunshine. Fucking love you. Won’t do that to Ryan again, either-

She let out a soft giggle, shaking Her head. I think Ryan’s more worried about you.

Then I’ll fucking apologize for that. Ben frowned into the air. Kid shouldn’t have to take on our shit too.

She nodded, pressing Her head back into Ben’s chest with a soft hum. Thank you, my love.

Ben scowled. I made you fucking cry-

And you apologized. And I’m still pissed at you. She leaned back, Her eyes sharp on Ben’s, and he couldn’t stop his grin. But I feel better. And if you really want to know now-

No. Ben cut Her off between their heads with a long, deep kiss. Trust you. Fucking meant it. And that was a stupid fucking thing to fight about.

We’ve fought about stupider. She smiled against his lips. And I won, for the record.

Ben just laughed, drawing back to grin at Her. I think I fucking won, darling. Because the best part of fighting is now that it’s done, I get to fuck you stupid.

She wrinkled Her nose at him, even as a slightly flush covered Her perfect features. We were going to fuck anyway, you horny old cunt-

Don’t fucking care. Ben hauled Her fully into his arms, kissing Her neck and marching for the stairs. Still so fucking perfect, Sunshine. Going to make you feel so fucking good, show you how fucking sorry I am until you’re cumming all over my goddamn cock-

God fucking- She moaned, dropping Her face into his neck. Ben-

I know, darling. You want to feel good? Want me to fuck you full of me, fuck you pregnant-

Ben, please-

Never going to make you fucking cry again. His words were more for himself.

She still needed to hear them.

Fucking swear it, Ben grunted Her name, leaning back to meet Her gaze. You’re fucking perfect, and I trust you with my goddamn life-

I know, Benjamin, my love. She gave him a soft smile, and nothing his Ben’s body hurt at all. You think you can fuck me pregnant?

His cock twitched in his pants. She knew exactly what the fuck She was doing, looking so fucking smug and beautiful and smart in Ben’s arms.

All goddamn his.

Such a fucking brat, he muttered between their heads, biting slightly on Her neck and smirking at Her squeak. Are you fucking doubting me, darling?

No-

Sounds like you’re fucking doubting me. Like you think I’m not going to fuck you until you can’t goddamn walk.

She whined, Her nails pressing against his neck. Ben, please-

Going to take good care of you. He muttered, leaving an open mouth kiss over Her throat. Fucking love you, Sunshine. You’re my goddamn world-

I know. She smiled against his skin, and for a second, Ben could feel it.

All Her love, burning and vast and unending, all for him, alive in his chest.

She knew. Ben had dedicated his whole fucking life to Her and Ryan, so She knew.

And he did apologize to Ryan later. Mostly because the kid deserved it—and She’d been right, because She always was right, and Ryan had been more worried about Ben than himself—but a little to show Her. He could be a good father. He could take accountability and apologize to his kids, like a real goddamn man. Apologize and mean it. Never fucking do it again, and keep proving that he was trying.

He was always fucking trying.

But She still wasn’t pregnant. And She’d said She wanted this, but it wasn’t happening. And if She didn’t, Frenchie said Her body would stop it.

They didn’t lie to each other. They never fucking lied to each other, and Ben trusted Her, but fucking Christ he couldn’t stop the tension over his shoulders about it. That She didn’t want this, and She was just doing it for him. She should never have to do shit for anyone, let alone Ben. He was supposed to do shit for Her. That was the whole goddamn point, was that She fixed everything for everyone and then came back to Ben. And he’d love Her and worship her however She fucking needed.

Ben trusted Her. He wasn’t going to push it.

But he was still goddamn worried.

And the week passed, and half of him forgot about the stupid birthday. He cared more about Her anyway. About climbing over Her in bed and kissing Her until she sighed his name into his mouth. And Ben had other shit to do, as well. Ryan needed help with homework, and Her goddamn cat kept sitting on Ben’s paperwork, and no matter how much he grunted that Maeve needed to fucking move, nothing worked. He picked the thing up and set it on the floor, and it just jumped into his goddamn lap.

She adored this stupid thing. Ryan did too. And Ben didn’t… hate it. Anymore.

Still occupied him, though. Having to explain to Butcher why goddamn cat hair was all over the files. And it didn’t help that he’d been feeling strange all week. Not sick—Ben didn’t fucking get sick—but strange.

So he forgot.

And then he woke up, and it was his stupid goddamn birthday.

Nothing was fucking happening. Ben had gotten confirmation She’d been planning something, but he couldn’t goddamn figure out what. The day was identical to every other fucking Tuesday. Ben rolled Her onto her stomach and fucked Her until she was cumming all over his cock and the room was dancing with warm lights and mist, then fucked Her in shower with her pretty tits in his hands and his mouth attached to Her neck.

He made sure Ryan was good for school, drove Her to work—fingering Her in the car, the air waving from heat as She grabbed his arm and orgasmed with a moan—and went in for a few hours to pretend to work.

There were no jobs to do, so they mostly just sat around and did jack fucking shit. Frenchie and Kimiko were watching something called a drag race that had nothing to do with cars, and Butcher was spinning in his stupid fucking chair while Ben tried to get Her attention.

Sunshine-

I’m working, Ben.

You could be fucking talk to me instead.

Or I could finish this meeting and come home early.

Just come home right fucking now, and we can watch that stupid fucking Zombie show-

That stupid Zombie show made you cry, Pretty Boy.

No, it fucking didn’t. Ben scowled at the air. It was just a sad fucking story, and I’m not a fucking heartless dickass-

I know. Ben could hear the smile in Her voice. I’d live with you in a bunker until we both died, Benjamin.

Good. But I’d kill all the stupid pussy zombies.

Of course you would, my love.

Shut up. Ben paused, then added. Let’s go home.

Nope. Need to work.

But it’s my fucking birthday.

I thought you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday-

I want my fucking wife, Sunshine, is that goddamn crime. You didn’t even wish me happy birthday-

Happy birthday, Benjamin, my love, you dramatic fucking cunt.

Ben didn’t bother to hide his grin. Brat.

You love it. I’ll be home in three hours.

She turned back into only a presence—happy and calm—over Ben’s head, and he could do three hours.

Three hours had fucking nothing on him. Ben would fucking destroy three hours.

Before he left for the day, though, he couldn’t manage to escape gifts. At least they weren’t total fucking shit. Kimiko and Frenchie got him some weed—thank fucking Christ—and Butcher got him a Hawaiian shirt because he was a fucking dickhead.

“You’ll look better in it anyway,” She hummed when Ben showed Her, his arm thrown around Her shoulders to keep her pressed against him.

The only thing he wanted for his birthday was Her fucking there. And the moment he’d felt Her getting close—Annie dropping Her off with only a smile and nod at Ben—he’d felt an iron weight over his chest lift.

He hadn’t even registered it until She was there. And it wasn’t there most days, because She could take care of her fucking self.

But Ben had just kept thinking about their old, empty apartment, and Her blank expression on the TV.

He just fucking wanted Her here. In comparison, other gifts were all fucking dogshit. Ben liked them just fine—a future surprise gift from Annie, Phillies tickets from Hughie, and a card that just said fucking congrats from MM, along with more weed—but none of them were fucking Her.

Her and Ryan were really all that Ben goddamn wanted. Needed. Could ever fucking need.

And that made this birthday, in the end, better than any of the fucking others. Ben had gotten parties before, and they’d been big fucking shitshows. Full of drinks with some of the most annoying fucking pussies on the planet, a million compliments and gifts from people he didn’t care about, and sex with faceless women.

There were no drinks tonight, but Ryan had made Ben burgers, and beamed with an unmistakable pride when Ben called them good fucking food. She’d gotten him a malt vanilla ice cream cake, and stuck seven candles in it with a teasing smile and kiss over his beard.

Ben wasn’t fucking having that. He tangled a hand in Her hair and turned to capture Her into a full, long, open-mouthed kiss, going and going until She was leaning over him and gasping softly into his mouth.

Happy seventh birthday, Ben. She mumbled when he pulled back, and he chuckled and nipped on Her lower lip.

Smartass.

She just hummed and wrapped Her arms around Ben’s neck as he turned back to Ryan, and asked him about school.

There were no empty compliment or gifts, either. Ryan got Ben a shit looking mug that the kid had made in his art class, and Ben was never going to use another fucking mug again.

“It, um,” Ryan had cleared his throat, pointing to odd painting job. “It says number one dad. I think. I tried to make it say number one dad, but painting is hard, and I-“

“Ryan.” Ben grunted, holding the kid’s nervous gaze. “It’s good. Don’t lose your damn mind.”

Ryan nodded, shifting like he wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next, and Ben rolled his eyes and pulled him into a hug.

“You did well, kid.” He muttered, low enough for only Ryan to hear. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Ryan whispered. “I- Thank you for- You know-“

Ben squeezed Ryan. “I do.”

She was smiling at Ben when he pulled away.

And that was the best goddamn part.

Ben got to pull Her into another kiss, feel Her melt into his body, and know that She was here. With him. Safe and fucking happy.

So Ben wouldn’t be having sex with any faceless women on his birthday.

It would just be Her, for the rest of his fucking life.

——————

It’s a miracle Ben hasn’t noticed. That he hasn’t walked you backwards against a wall or pinned you down in bed with a frown, kissing you until you were dizzy then demanding to know what was wrong.

And nothing is wrong.

It isn’t.

Everything is good. Ben is good, Ryan is good, and you’re really good.

There’s something eating at your gut, and you feel a little light-headed and wired, but it will be better soon. You’ll tell Ben, and the tension will leave your head and slow in your hands, and everything will be good.

It will be.

You have a plan.

Ryan goes to Butcher’s, after you finish dinner. Ben scowls at the sight of the man on your doorstep, but before their usual grunting, puffed chest stand-off can start, you place your hand on Ben’s arm and give him a soft smile.

Stand down, Pretty Boy. I asked him to take Ryan for the night.

He frowns at you. Why the fuck would you do that.

I don’t think you’re going to be able to keep quiet.

That’s all you have to say.

Ben lets Butcher take Ryan—although not before giving him a tight hug and muttering that he’ll to pick him up in the morning—and Butcher doesn’t in a single have fun rimmin’ each other before the door is slammed in his face and Ben’s attention turns to you.

And you can feel his hunger all the time. You’d planned on making some sort of joke about how for a man on his age, Ben’s sex drive only seems to be building, but it’s hard to remember the details of it now. Because Ben’s on you in half a second, sweeping you up into his arms with a smirk, and you’re gone.

It’s more consuming than a tidal wave, the sheer fucking starvation in Ben’s body. For you. It’s all aimed into your body, and it’s lined with love—it always is—but it’s still fucking hunger.

“You’ve got something for me,” he drawls, already walking you up the stairs. “Don’t you, Sunshine.”

“Maybe.” You mumble, letting your fingers glide up to play with the hair of his beard. “It is your birthday. And you did get very dramatic about your surprise.”

Ben just grunts, and the sore, prickling feeling grows hot over your skin. It’s part of why you weren’t that mad about him about the fight. You could feel how it was going to hurt him more than you, feel how it had been tight in his lungs and known that he wouldn’t do it again.

Ben, the huge, handsome dumbass, has one of the lowest emotional pain tolerances you’ve ever seen. You’ve felt how he holds you tighter during sad parts of movies, as if he’s worried the tragedy on the screen is going to jump out and take you as well.

So there was no doubt in your mind, that Ben would shoot himself before he repeated that fight. And you had been a little dramatic about it as well, but it was Ryan. He hadn’t even really known what was going on, only that you had to tell Ben something, and it was better for everyone if he stayed at Butcher’s after Ben’s birthday dinner. And Ryan would’ve beat himself up for betraying your trust, then Ben would’ve gotten pissed at himself about making Ryan upset, so it was easier to cut out the middleman and just take the bullet yourself.

He’s more than made up for it. There were flowers on your dresser when you got home the next night, he brought you ice cream at work the day after that, and he’s been letting you chose what to watch every single evening since.

And you hadn’t wanted to keep things from him. You fucking hated hiding anything at all from Ben. There have been so many moments over the past few weeks where you’ve wanted to grab his face between your hands and tell him, but this was a perfect gift. And he wouldn’t be pissed when he found out. Hopefully it would drown and wash away all that hot shame, and you’d really be proven right.

You just had to tell him first.

“I did get you something.” You hum, leaning back to give him a wide, unrestrained smile. “That’s the surprise.”

Ben snorts. “Fucking worked that one out, Sunshine. You going to actually damn tell me, or do I have to fuck it out of you.”

It’s hard to fight down the breathiness of your voice, and you don’t really try to anyway.

Ben can hear your heartbeat anyway.

“I’ll tell you no matter what.” You press your face in his neck, mumbling against his skin. “But I- Fucking would be nice.”

He laughs, the sound vibrating through your whole body. “You giving me birthday sex, darling? You going to let me do whatever the fuck I want to your perfect fucking pussy? Let me play with it until you’re just whining like a goddamn brat?”

He might be trying to get you to burst into flames.

It’s going to work.

“I always let you do what you want.” Your protest is weak, and Ben’s hunger only flares.

“Goddamn right you do.” His lips brush over the shell of your ear, and something slams behind you. “You how why, beautiful?”

You shake your head, and Ben’s chuckle is low and dark, moving right between your thighs.

“I think you do know.” He drawls, and suddenly you’re on the bed, Ben towering over you and brushing hair away from your face.

There’s a softness to his touch that you can feel in his chest. Molten and glowing over his ribs as he watches you, gentle in a way his deep voice isn’t.

But it’s still all Ben. And his thumb brushed over your lip and presses slightly, you can’t do anything but part for him without thought.

A low, rumbling sound leaves Ben’s chest, and the hunger is turning to starvation. As if you’ve been separated for years, rather than barely at all through the whole day. But to be fair, Ben always touches you like he thinks he’s never going to see you again. And you always grind against the sheets like it’s the first time he’s ever even spared you a glance.

And when Ben presses his thumb into your mouth, you let your tongue flick against it and suck slightly. Going and going until you’re a little dizzy with need, and all you can see if Ben looking down at you with a smirk.

“There you go.” He mutters, pulling his thumb away with a slight pop. “Good girl. You going to use some smart words, and answer my question?”

You blink at him, still a little lost in the haze of lust. “What question?”

Ben’s grin grows, and before you know what’s happening he’s tossing you back on the mattress and prowling over you, his shirt already tossed into a corner of the room.

It’s good you didn’t wear your fireproof clothing today.

All it takes is one firm, consuming kiss into the mattress, Ben’s hand trailing up your thighs to rest between your legs, and you’re burning.

“So fucking beautiful.” Ben mutters, watching you grind shameless down onto his palm, your mouth hanging open and hands scratching hopelessly at his chest. “Still need to fucking hear it, darling. Why do I get to play with this pussy,” he slaps your cunt once, and your back arches off the mattress with a small gasp. “As much as I want?”

You just blink at him, words a little far away as the feeling of Ben—big and warm and strong above you—makes you feel high, and he chuckles.

“You need some help, Sunshine?”

You nod a little stupidly, and Ben crashes down, all but eating you alive with his teeth scraping your lips and tongue down your throat before muttering against your mouth.

“Because I take good fucking care of you. Because you’re my wife, and I fucking love you and fuck you so good you only know one word, don’t you.”

You moan as one finger slides into you, and Ben fucking shining with pride in his chest.

He’s earned it.

Because when he hums, “What the word, beautiful?” You scream the only thing that’s in your head.

Ben, Ben- Fuck- Ben-

“Good girl.” He grins as his fingers pull out and you whine, only laughing when he pinches and rolls your clit and you let out a weak noise of desperation.

Ben-

“You know what I want for my birthday,” Ben drawls your name, wrapping his arm slowly around your waist. “More than fucking anything?”

You shake your head, looking up at him with wide eyes, and his grin somehow grows.

“I want you to sit on my fucking face.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“I want,” Ben leans down, holding your gaze, and your fingers shoot up to hold his face on instinct. “For my beautiful fucking wife to sit on my goddamn face.”

“I- Ben-“ You shake your head, even as you start to roll your hips against him once more. “I could suffocate you-“

He snorts. “You can get a better excuse than that fucking bullshit, Sunshine.”

“I- I can’t. But, Ben-“

“Don’t ask if I’m sure.” He grunts, the hunger suddenly wrapped entirely with stone-like, powerful care. “Do you want to-“

“Yes.” You whisper, and the hunger rushes back with almost twice the straight.

“Good.” He mutters, and before you down what’s happening, Ben’s rolling you over and pulling you upright on his chest, setting into the pillows with a cocky smirk. “Come here.”

“I am here.” You shift slightly, tracing your fingers over the muscles of his chest, and he gives you a slightly tug by your hips.

“I want you here.” He raised his brows, and the fire might have gone out, but there’s a dizzying rush of light already dancing around the room at the sheer desire in Ben’s body and gaze.

He’s going to eat you alive.

And your knees already feel weak from it. You’re not sure you remember how to move.

“Ben,” you lean forward, letting your nose bump slightly with his. “Do you want your birthday present now, or-“

“This is my birthday present.”

You can’t stop your smile, because there’s almost a pout on his face, and he’s the strongest man in the world, but right now he’s all but grumbling and pout at you, and the idea that you could possibly ever be worried about sitting on his face.

“Benjamin.”

He grunts, squeezing the skin of your hips as a hand trails up your side, and your smile widens.

“If this is your present, I guess you don’t want the sex doll I got you.”

“I have my sex doll right fucking here,” he squeezes your waist, nipping at your lower lip. “And she’s goddamn perfect.”

“Gross and sweet. What if I tape my face to this one?”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up and come here.”

“What about the surprise? Is this replacing that- Shit-“ You squeak as he starts to drag you up his chest, until you’re almost straddling his neck.

“Hi, Sunshine.” He rubs firm circles on your thighs, and you smile down at him, your finger drifting into his hair as you hold his gaze.

“Hi, Ben. I- Um-“ You swallow, grinding slightly against him as his hunger feeds your own need.

Handsome and strong and grinning up at you, and you do want to do this, but-

“How does this work?” You ask, and Ben face turns into something feral, his voice somehow dropping deeper.

“Have you never fucking sat on a face before, darling?” Ben’s grip tightens when you nod, and you almost fall over from the sheer power of his hunger. It’s throbbing between your legs and warm in your core, but then Ben kneads at your thighs, and little electronic shocks wrap over your skin until you’re all but putty in his hands.

He knows it. There’s a blooming, shining pride through his whole chest, and the asshole is smug as he lets your grind down on his body, his voice a loving, teasing hum as he says your name.

“You want me to take care of you? Need me to show you how to ride my fucking face, let me fuck you like you deserve while you just sit here and look beautiful like a good girl?”

You nod, your hand trailing down your stomach to find your clit, and Ben fucking growls as he swats your fingers away.

“I do that.” He grunts, running his hands up to hold your hips, turning his head to kiss on your knee. “Hold on.”

He doesn’t give you time to react to his order before you’re being pulled forward and Ben slams you down onto his face.

You almost scream at the first movement. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt as he rolls your hips against him. Big hands drag and down up your body, holding you over him, and when he angles his face to bite at your clit, your fingers fly to yank at his hair.

Ben’s chuckle vibrates against your pussy, and the moan that escapes you is loud and shameless and almost pathetic. You can’t find it in your to care, though. Because then Ben’s tongue starts to plunge in and out of your cunt, and the high whine of Ben that leaves you is desperate and needy and only spurs him on.

You like it, darling? Ben picks up his pace, shifting you above him just enough to let his tongue flick at your clit until you’re in almost a frenzy—pulling at his hair and burning a handprint into the headboard—before returning to your pussy. Taste like fucking heaven, doing so fucking good for me, screaming my name-

You let out a high sound that was maybe supposed to be Ben, and he only laughs again.

Good girl.

You let out another loud moan, Ben somehow doubles his efforts, and you’ve been wrecked before.

But this is bigger.

This is destroyed.

Ben’s beard tickles and rubs your thighs in the best way possible, and his nose keeps bumping on your clit, and you’re lost to any world that isn’t Ben. His tongue fucking and licking and twisting deep into your cunt, one hand reaching up to palm and flick at your breasts, the other squeezing your ass, low grunts and growls rumbling through him whenever your thighs clench around him or you squirm above him.

You let out a loud, lewd moan as Ben’s tongue presses flat against your clit as broad fingers pinch and roll your nipple, and Ben laughs against your cunt.

Think you can cum on my fucking face, Sunshine? He moves back to pushing his tongue in and out of your pussy, and you lose all sense of control. Grinding down shameless and making loud, pleading sounds of his name, arching your back and bracing a hand on Ben’s thigh.

You can feel his cock, hard and standing at attention, bumping on your forearm as the coil in your gut starts to become almost painful.

And when you grope blindly to grab it, your fingers brush the base of his shaft and Ben groans your name right into your cunt.

You want to touch him. But his grip is like iron above you, keeping you pinned against his face as he pulls you apart, and he’s stronger than you are.

But you can feel that strength in him. Radiant and atomic and deep in his body, calling for you to borrow just a little bit.

You try not to use the mimicry. It too powerful, feels a little like an invasion, and you don’t fight anymore, so there’s really no point.

But when you whine Ben, he only squeezes you by your hips and sucks your clit between his lips.

He’s fucking impossible and everything in the world, and you’re going to go insane if he doesn’t let you touch him.

So you grab that little bit of his strength, let it flow so naturally into your own body, and move before Ben can figure out what’s happening. Pushing away from him with a high whine, twisting around so your clit is brushing perfectly against his beard, and leaning down to take him into your mouth.

Fucking- Christ on a cross. Ben’s grip tightens, his growl open-mouthed against you cunt, and you moan around his dick without shame. You’re fucking- so fucking perfect, Sunshine, fucking-

You take him until he bumps against the back of your throat, your hands playing with his balls as you squeeze his inner thigh, and the hunger in Ben’s body feels feral.

He’s squeezing your ass and groaning your name as you choke and swallow around him, and every sound he pulls from your throat makes him twitch in your hands, until you’re no sure if you’re dangling over the edge, or he is.

Fuck you’re perfect, sucking my cock like a good girl, making all those goddamn pretty sounds for me. Ben groans as another one of those sounds leaves you, his dick twitching in the back of your throat. Need you to fucking cum for me, beautiful, soak my fucking face and scream my name-

Ben’s tongue to flick over your clit, working you right up until you’re writhing above him and moaning around him, and he bites you. Right on your clit before pressing a mockingly soft kiss, and you fly over the edge.

You might be screaming his name. You’re not sure. Ben won’t stop eating your cunt, even as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you right off his cock. You whine, squirming against him, but all it gets you is flat on your back with Ben still buried between your thighs. Your thighs are squeezing him so tight you’re a little worried you’re going to burst his skull, but all you’re getting from him is love and reverence and pleasure. Ben just keeps devouring you as smaller, softer and melting orgasms roll through your body, and you’re weakly tugging at his hair as stars begin to line your vision.

Ben. You moan as he pushes his tongue back into your cunt, your hips jerking off the mattress. Ben, please, fuck me-

He groans, a finger sneaking up to rub over your pussy lips, teasing your entrance as he moves to lips to sucking your clit. You need me to fill you up, Sunshine? Want to squeeze this fucking cock in your perfect pussy?

You nod, a high whine leaving you as Ben hums against you.

Say please-

Please. You let out a breathless noise, dignity long gone as you writhe below him. Benjamin, please, please fuck me, I need it so bad-

Fucking Christ. He laughs, pressing a sloppy kiss over your spasming pussy, rising back up to grin down at you with an unmistakable devotion. That fucking desperate for me, Sunshine? Begging like a perfect fucking brat for me-

Yes. You force your arms up to wrap around his neck. Yours, Ben, all yours, just- please. You press a kiss to his beard as he pulls you into his lap, your body burning and boneless against him. Need you, Ben.

His face flashes with a love that’s mirrored in his body, a hand tracing over the line of your cheekbones. You need me?

You nod, and there’s enough strength of Ben’s left in your body for you to grind against him and dig your nails into his shoulders, leaving a rare mark on his body that makes him hiss in your ear.

“Need you to do that more.” He grunts, his cock jumping against your ass. “Fucking- Wish I could mark you. Show everyone who fucks you so damn pretty and dumb,” he pulls you up slightly, groaning your name into your ear as he guides you down onto his cock. “Think everyone will know when my goddamn cum is dripping out of your perfect cunt?”

You moan and clench around him, throwing your head back in a numbing bliss, and Ben grabs the opportunity. His lips latch onto that spot on your neck, and he starts to fuck up into you with a brutal, skip slapping pace.

And you lose track of how many orgasms you have. You just know it feels good. Like you’re being washed in a glowing light every second, Ben’s cock bumping against that already aching and needy spot inside of you and his low, growled praise in your head or ear only turning you into a whining mess against his body. But big hands are rubbing over your back and keeping you bouncing onto him, and you can’t think anything but Ben.

You squeeze around him and scratch over his back, and Ben grunts your name between your head. Good girl, Sunshine, taking my cock so fucking well, going to- Fuck, I’m going to fuck your full of me until everyone can goddamn smell it-

You lean forward and nod against Ben’s shoulder, grinding down when he bruises impossible deep inside of you, and the last orgasm might just be Ben’s, rolling through you as he cums with a roar of your name. Slamming home and capturing your mouth in a deep, sloppy kiss, rutting against you until he’s dripping down your thighs and the high is only lingering in your bodies.

There’s a long while before either of you bother to move. Ben keeps you firmly down on his cock with hands on your waist, muttering low praise and kissing over your collarbone as you sit in his warmth, and drift back down. But eventually, he presses a firm kiss to the top your head before rolling over and pulling out, slapping his cock against your aching pussy once, and pulling you into another deep, long kiss when a moan escapes your throat.

Stay here. His thumb traces over your cheekbone as he pulls away, and you shake your head, grabbing his wrist. “Sunshine-“

“I- I need to give you your present.” You whisper, and the love in Ben’s chest flares like a fucking bomb, even as he frowns.

“Have to clean you up-“

“Ben.” You squeeze him, tugging him pointlessly back down. The strength is gone. You just need him here. “Please.”

He sighs, but nods, and falls right back over you, pinning you between his warmth and the bed.

Your hands shoot into his hair, your face burying in the crook of his neck, and an easy, gentle calm washes over your body as your breath in pine and vanilla and Ben.

You can do this.

“Are you ready for the surprise?”

Ben grunts, shifting you slightly so your legs tangled together and his arm can snake around your waist, and it’s helping. The feeling of him everywhere, the way he’s already holding you like you’re the most important thing into the world.

The words are almost easy to say.

“I’m pregnant.”

Ben stills completely around you. And you couldn’t feel his love all but roaring through his body, you’d be worried.

But Ben’s a part of you. And every bit of furious, wrathful care and love in him is wrapping around you, like he’s already trying to protect you more. You should maybe be worried about that. How he’s going to be hovering over you the entire time, and going to drive Butcher up the wall by refusing to go on mission because he’s not leaving his pregnant fucking wife, you pussycuck, and Hughie’s going to have to stop tossing you pens in the office, or Ben might cut off his arm.

You should be worried.

But you’re not.

It’s Ben. And if you tell him to back the fuck up before he’s stuck sleeping on the couch, he’ll listen. He’ll know it’s an empty threat—you’d end up crawling over him on the couch or calling him back up to bed—but he’ll still listen. He’ll grumble and scowl, but listen.

And he’s already such a good fucking dad. This is just going to be a little more—diapers and crying and screaming and tantrums—but Ben doesn’t give up. And if even an eighth of the love in him right now is for the baby, they're going to be the most adored child in the world.

“How-“ Ben coughs, and when you lean back, his jaw is almost slack. “How the fuck-“

You giggle. “I think you’re how, my love. You and your breeding kink-“

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, his voice still slightly hoarse. “You’re sure. That you’ve done it.”

“Yeah, Ben.” You smile at him, your lips brushing over his. “I took the test a week after we got back from our honeymoon, and it was positive, so I was probably already several weeks along-“

He tenses around you. “That was almost goddamn month ago-“

“I know.” You sigh, propping your chin against his chest. “And I was going to tell you, but then I remembered your birthday was coming up, and I thought it would make a good gift.”

Your words trail off towards the end, Ben stares at you for a long moment, and then shakes his head. “Fucking Christ, Sunshine-“

“I’m sorry-“

“You’re fucking perfect.” Ben rolls fully back over you, his mouth slamming into yours for a bruising kiss, and there is it.

He’s happy. There’s nothing stronger and more focused than the sheer fucking love and joy in Ben’s body. And soon you’ll have to start working things out and planning, telling people and arranging how a supe-pregnancy will work. Annie and MM already know, but only because they were there when you took the test. You’ll have to tell Ryan, and he’ll probably be expecting something in the morning. The government will be hell to deal with, and if you want to do a real wedding, you’ll either have to do it soon or after the baby arrives.

But those are problems for later.

Right now it’s all Ben, kissing you deep and holding you against him, so full of love you’d might need to be worried it’s going to split him in half.

“I fucking love you.” He mutters, his hand already gliding to rest on your lower abdomen. “You’re- Christ on a Cross, you’re fucking-“

He seems to be short-circuiting, but it doesn’t stop him from diving back down and muttering more praise against your lips.

Love you, Sunshine. Going to take good care of you, you perfect fucking menace. Both of you.

Love you too, You mumble between your heads, combing your fingers through his hair once more. Happy birthday, Benjamin.

End Note: Butcher's going to make Ben watch one of those sex ed birthing videos, and he's gonna be on his knees (he feels all the pain she feels. he's gonna need that weed)

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Buy me a coffee!☕️

If you want to be tagged, just ask! (Separate from main taglist)

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd @sthefferrete

@lyarr24 @deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @Ambiguous-avery

@elle14-blog1 @impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @heyimolive @alwaystiredandconfused

@kamisobsessed @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007 @jackles010378 @ilovedeanwinchester4 @immastealurkneecaps

@star-yawnznn @chi-raz @Lori19 @wynnthewynnder @fultiana-kh

@woaheasytig3r @lovelywebber @salemslostwitch @winchester-whiskey @and-i-wish

@jsudsgf @deans-yn @jofinka @allthetroubleiveseen @dyhsversion

@pillowjj @megara0224 @funkenniffler @disappearintofanfiction @kr804573

@bejeweledinterludes @solsborg @sheneedsjesus @bonkydarnes @whimsicalcherry

@maydayfigment @forzalando @roseblue373 @fxckingjo @angrydragon90

174 notes · View notes

straylightdream · 2 months ago

Text

𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨 masterlist

feedback and reblog with tags are greatly appreciate when you read one of my fics!

if you want to join my taglist for every or specific boys, please fill out this form.

contains smut: ♡

ｃｏｎｎｅｃｔｉｎｇｓｅｒｉｅｓ

all for you - ⭐️

seasons of time - college au 📝

ｗｒｉｔｉｎｇｓｅｒｉｅｓ

look what you made me do - series if reputation inspired songs

short n’ sweet (sns)- a series inspired by sabrina carpenter songs from the album of the same name

1989 - a series inspired by taylor swift songs of the same name

love & money - ceo and or sugar daddy stories - 💵

my only one - stories about the boys as husbands and fathers - 🌸

• three simple words - You were his first serious girlfriend and his first for many things, and he was the first boy you had ever actually loved. For some reason saying those three simple words terrified you. ♡

• king of my heart - I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own. I made up my mind, I'm better off being alone. We met a few weeks ago. Now you try on callin' me "baby" like tryin' on clothes. ♡ ⭐️(rep)

• meet me in the hallway (feat: wonwoo x reader x ‘mingyu) - They been best friends their whole life. They’ve shared everything but they have never shared a girl. What happens when no one can keep their emotions out of this? ♡

• body and soul - after a rough day the only thing he wants to do is go on a motorcycle ride with you. (can be read as a connecting story to king of my heart) ♡⭐️

• never leave this bed - once your husband returns from a long trip you want nothing more then to stay in bed together. ♡ 🌸

• across the room - caught your eye across the room. No one can feel the tension between me and you. There’s no need to mention all the things I wanna do. You wanna do ‘em too. We both know we’d be over if they knew. ♡

• 15 minutes - “Or you could do both. Go suck the life out of him and then tell him you like him. You’re really good with your mouth. Your head game definitely made me emotional more than once.” He pats your back. ♡ (sns)

• heaven knows (wonwoo x reader x mingyu) - who knew being roommates could turn into so much more. ♡

• intentions - Butterflies swirl around your stomach at his words. It’s become very obvious that Wonwoo has also wanted this for a while. Turns out your crush wasn’t so one sided. Maybe you were both just too blind to see what was in front of you. ♡

• craving humanity (vampire au) - you are the first person who has truly made him feel normal. 🩸♡

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo #wonwoo masterlist #dreamie masterlist #wonwoo x reader

263 notes · View notes

keithyp00 · 21 days ago

Text

The Very First Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: longing, nostalgia, reconnection, second chances, bittersweet joy, soft reunion, emotional intimacy, kissing, implications of sex

Song Inspiration: The Very First Night by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 824

Author Note: Hi again! Hopefully I'll be able to keep a schedule going with posting but I have my APUSH exam for school tomorrow so this is my good luck post to myself to make me feel better. Hope you enjoy and thanks for the continued support!

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

You hadn't seen Bucky Barnes in two years.

Not since the mission that split everything apart. Not since you chose separate paths- different coasts, different causes, different people- because neither of you were ready to stay still. Or maybe, because you were both too afraid to try.

But here you were now, standing in a hallway that buzzed with bad overhead lighting and too many memories, waiting for a man you tried desperately to forget.

Until you couldn't anymore.

The door opened.

And just like that- two years collapsed.

He looked the same. A little more tired around the eyes. A little scruffier. Broader, maybe. Still devastatingly handsome.

"Hey," he said softly.

Your throat was too full to answer. So you just smiled.

______________________________________________________________

Two Years Ago- The Very First Night

The hotel room in Belgium was nothing special. Beige walls, humming radiator, one flickering lamp.

But you still remembered everything about that night.

The way Bucky looked at you from across the room- half smile, hair wet from the shower he had taken, feet bare on the worn carpet.

The quiet conversation shared over whiskey and strawberries that were bought from the hotel's little corner store in the lobby.

The way his laugh- low and rare- filled up the space like music. You'd leaned into him, arms brushing, knees touching.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You'd whispered.

"Because I know," he replied.

"Know what?"

"That this'll be the night I'll think about when I miss you."

You'd kissed him then. Soft, slow, and unforgettable.

The rest was a blur of heat and tenderness, hands memorizing each other like it would have to last a lifetime. Because, deep down, maybe you both knew it might.

______________________________________________________________

It wasn't messy when you parted.

No fights. Just two soldiers fighting different wars.

He was rebuilding in New York. You were chasing ghosts in Europe. You promised to stay in touch. But promise like that rarely survive the drastically different time zones and aching hearts that came from late nights alone.

Still, on certain nights, you'd pull out your phone. Reread old texts. Replay voicemails. Watch the grainy video you took of him singing off-key at 2AM when you were both drunk off your minds.

Once, you even dreamed he was beside you- his hand on your hip, whispering stupid jokes into your hair into the late hours of the night.

You woke up crying the following morning.

______________________________________________________________

Now, back in the present, you sat across from him in a quiet cafe.

Everything around you felt too loud.

"I didn't think you'd come," Bucky said, his voice low.

"I almost didn't," you admitted. "Thought maybe it'd hurt too much."

He nodded. "It does. But not seeing you again? That hurts more."

You looked at him then, really looked- at the man who still carried the weight of the world, but now sat with shoulders that were just a bit looser.

"I missed you," you stated. A breath. Then two. "I missed us."

His hand reached across the table, slow and steady. "I still think about that night," he said. "The very first one. The real one. It ruined me, you know."

You laughed, soft and fond. "Why?"

"Because no one else ever felt like that. Like home."

______________________________________________________________

You walked the city together after that.

Passed the old record shop you once ducked into during a thunderstorm. The bookstore where he read you poetry in a gruff whisper. The street corner where he kissed you like the world was ending.

He turned to you once you both reached the park, stopping in your tracks collectively.

"I thought maybe, if I saw you again, I could be just... your friend. But I can't."

"Bucky-"

"I don't want to forget. I don't want something new. I want you."

And despite everything- the time, the pain, the years apart- your heart whispered the same truth it had screamed in silence every night. I want you too.

You kissed him under the streetlight.

Slow. Hopeful. Like you'd been waiting two years just to remember how it felt.

And he held you like he'd never let go again. And this time- he didn't.

______________________________________________________________

Months later, you were in a new apartment. Shared. Full of photos and plants you kept forgetting to water. Bucky was sprawled on the couch, reading a book that you didn't recognize, most likely from a period you didn't really know.

"You know," he murmured, catching you staring, "we never really got another 'first night.'"

You smiled. "Maybe not. But we got a second chance."

He grinned. "And I'm not going to waste it."

You joined him on the couch, curled into his side, heart full with love for the boy you really got to know in a hotel room in Belgium and the man he grew into.

And this time, there was no leaving. Because now- you had a love worth staying for.

234 notes · View notes

solifloris · 14 days ago

Text

≡;-꒰ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | 18+ only

tags : long fic, porn with plot, prince!xavier x knight!reader, separate from the lightseeker era we know and more of a different royal au, slight angst, hurt/comfort, slowburn ish, mutual yearning, slight miscommunication (well it's xavier…), still has soft fluffy moments though, use of "my prince" "my liege" "your highness" from reader, kisses, first time, oral (f. receiving), heavy petting, vaginal sex, overall soft sex and very vanilla moments, slight use of pet names "angel" and "my queen" towards the end from xavier.

IMPORTANT - this is part 2 because apparently tumblr has a 1000-block limit that won't let me post the entire fic in one whole post...... so please see this link for part 1, or the full fic on AO3 !!

wc : 19.8k total / part 1 - 12.3k / part 2 - 7.5k

an : a tumblr continuation; this is still for @xavmc-week days 1 (knight x royalty), 2 (firsts), and 3 (moon/stars)! note that this is not really a standalone, and does work better with the context from part 1 <3

taglist to be reblogged : SIGN UP HERE

ko-fi jar / commissions

With a single word and a gentle touch, you turned a moment into forever.

Like many things between the two of you, it became routine.

One kiss, and then the second—it happened just the next night. Just as quiet, just as soft, just as gentle.

You hadn’t expected it, not really. You'd wished for it, sure, but you fully believed it to be a one-time-thing—

It wasn't.

Because that next night, he'd invited you in again. Another cup of tea, more idle chatter, something normal—

And then he walked you to the door.

Again.

He stood a moment long, and then you knew, and when his lips brushed yours in another sweet, sweet kiss, you could feel your heart soaring.

Again.

That night, there were still no words exchanged. Just a small, shy, mutual smile, and then the door closing softly behind you.

And after that, it became a rhythm. A routine. He would find you in quiet hallways with an unspoken glance; you would fall into step beside him without hesitation. Sometimes your hands brushed as you walked—accidental at first, then not so accidental. A ghost of a touch. A curl of fingers, before either of you would still remember to pull away.

And some nights, you'd wait by the door, unsure if you'll be invited in again But every time, the door still opened before you could knock.

Some nights, he would still be dressed in formal attire, a little disheveled, a little distracted, a little tired. Other nights, he was comfortable to be in less—a simple linen shirt, maybe even sleep clothes. His sleeves were always rolled to the forearm; gaze was always more relaxed.

Still, always handsome.

And you never really quite talked about the kisses. About the affection, the comfort, the—whatever this was.

They just happened. Folded into the end of each evening, like clockwork—like punctuation.

A kiss by the door. A hand brushing your wrist. A touch on the small of your back as you passed him a folded report.

It took 21 days to form a habit, but sometimes you'd think that this even took less—that was how natural it was. You could breathe, and you would breathe him in. Enough so for you to dream lighter, now. You'd to sleep with the tingle of his lips; wake up with the memory of it.

Naturally, of course, the court remained unaware. In whatever had pulled you close like this, you were still able to keep a straight face around the others. The guards still spoke of it as nothing, and if anyone noticed the way your gazes lingered longer than they should, then they didn't seem to dare touch on the matter in the first place.

It was enough, at least. For you. For him, hopefully.

And then night after night, as the castle settled into quiet and the corridors dimmed to a warm glow, you returned to him.

Always to him.

And you wished, deep in your heart, that it would always last forever.

&—

Of course it didn't.

A bond built in secret—how long, truly, could that last?

You kept your head down when you first heard it.

The palace walls were thin—decidedly so. You'd never cared for it, not before, but now it meant something. Words seeped through the cracks; like vines on a wall, winding, and winding, and—

Choking.

Two noblemen lingered in the corridor. Their voices were low, but not low enough. You could make out, still, what they were saying.

“A match with the House would secure the borderlands for a generation.”

“Well, I believe he’ll fall in line. He has no choice, if it's for the Kingdom.”

“But they say he’s taken to spending time with his knight, that woman. I'd heard she was his personal guard."

"Goodness! Then what would that look like, come delegation day?”

It stung.

You felt the bile build up in your chest, in your throat—

You could throw up.

You almost did.

And you turned, left—your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your limbs tense as you walked. You couldn't bear to hear any more.

It had been weeks.

One, or two—but more than enough for you to live in that pretty little illusion, and now it was time to stop it.

Xavier hadn't told you.

Just last night, you'd shared another soft little kiss—that one was longer than most, you almost stayed.

Almost.

But he hadn't told you.

And how long had there been talks of this? How long had he been betrothed to a noble girl? How long had he known? Could he kiss you, still, despite all of this being said? Could he be with you, nightly, despite the arrangements being made for his hand?

When you entered your room, you went straight for your bed. Sat in it in silence, hung your head down in disdain.

Tears pricked at your eyes. Even in its absence, your armor weighed heavy. Right on your heart.

It was the weight of what you were.

You didn't go to him, that night. Not this, not the next, not the nights even after. And each evening that you'd steeled yourself not to knock on his door, a part of you ached like you'd gone too long holding your breath.

Because you'd never even spoken of what you were.

Never defined those soft, goodnight kisses, the brushing of fingers when no one looked, the stolen moments of laughter, of shared glances—things that warmed you, comforted you, made you feel… safe.

For you, it had been enough.

Just spending time with him like that, it had been enough.

Until it wasn't.

And still, you couldn't quite pretend that you hadn't seen it coming.

Xavier moved differently, now. His shoulders were tense in court, his eyes flicking towards you from across the room more often, as though checking to see if you'd still be there. You noticed it. It was hurting him as much as you, you could see it. You knew him well enough. Still, despite the secrets, you knew him well enough.

But this distance was necessary.

If 15 centimeters had shortened into 5, had dissolved into nothingness—

It had grown, since even longer.

15 centimeters to 20, to 30. To one foot, then two—a meter, then more.

The space between you had grown, even when physically, you were only just a few paces apart at all.

And it just had to be that way.

It had to be that way.

So why were you crying?

Why, then, where you turning down this corridor—were you heading to his chambers—

Why, then, was it so difficult to leave?

It was the fourth night, like this. Habitual movements. Heart thrumming with an ache that pulsed at your throat.

You were there before you could think; in front of the door, closed, that you were so familiar with.

Your hand lifted—

You didn't knock.

"This is stupid," you murmured, a pained whisper beneath your breath.

And then—

"…Is that what you think?"

Your heart stopped.

You didn't need to turn to see who had spoken, but—

You did, anyway.

Slowly, guiltily. You turned, let your eyes fall onto his figure, immediately falling into those blue, blue eyes…

Immediately finding that they weren't, now, as bright as you had known them to be.

"I… I wasn't…"

You tried to speak, but your words fell short. You'd forgotten how, almost. 21 days to form a habit, and it had been even less for it to break.

He stepped forward. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

"I didn't mean to…"

"But you’ve barely looked at me.”

Because I can't.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced away, let out a bitter exhale.

“Because… Because if I do, then I’ll forget what I’m supposed to be. A-and I can't do that."

A knight shouldn't…

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as his brow knit, as something flickered in his eyes like a candlelight caught in the wind.

You knew that look.

Pain.

“So, what are you supposed to be?” he muttered.

Like he didn't know, or— like he couldn't admit it.

You hung your head, then. Refused to answer.

Because what were we, then?

"They said something, didn't they."

His tone was softer this time when he tried again, but it was not a question, not this time.

It was a statement.

Yet, still you couldn't raise your head.

“You think I care what the court says? About what they expect of me?”

"That's not it, I just…"

You shut your eyes tightly.

Well, you had to speak, didn't you?

"I think," you whispered then, slowly, "that you were born with a crown on your head, and I… was born to guard it. And it makes all the difference, Your Highness. Because roles like that… really just don't overlap."

When you say things out loud, it feels a little more real.

Unfortunately for you, that was exactly the case with even this. And maybe, then, it was why things had to fall apart so quickly.

You'd never spoken what you had out loud.

Xavier stepped closer.

Tentative.

The smell of him, then—clean sheets, warm parchment, something grounding—it hit you like a memory.

“You’ve kissed me every night for a week,” he murmured. “You’ve sat beside me in silence, you’ve laughed at my terrible impressions of the court’s musicians, you’ve been more than just duty—more than any of it, long before either of us dared say it.”

You held your breath.

“And now you look at me like you’re afraid to hope.”

"…Because, Your Highness. I am."

In that moment, your voice broke.

“Because this—whatever we are, I— i-it won’t survive a noble’s daughter, with silk hems and land attached to her name, and… and peace."

You still couldn't look at him. You closed your eyes, again, tried not to think about throwing up, tried not to think about how tense you were.

“I'm just a knight, Your Highness, and I serve you. You’ll have to marry. You’ll be expected to bed someone else, kiss someone else, share everything with someone else and pretend like I was nothing but a childish indulgence—”

"Is that… Is that what you think I see you as?"

You shook your head, but you couldn't trust your words to be of any use.

Your throat closed. Your vision blurred; a stray tear fell away.

You could feel yourself trembling.

And then he reached for you, slowly. His hand brushed against your glove, not taking, but—offering.

Hoping.

Without another word, another beat, you felt him lift up your chin, felt him lean in—

He didn't kiss you, not quite. But he pressed your foreheads together, searched your gaze, pleaded you, if only through actions alone.

"I want to choose you," he said quietly. Barely a whisper, barely a breath.

And somehow, you knew that he did.

But wanting something did not always mean that you could.

Now, at least, you knew that.

"But you can't," you whispered.

And you pulled away, took a step back, and bowed.

"Goodnight, my prince."

&—

Another week.

The corridors of the castle always sounded different at night.

Quieter, yes. But emptier, too. Like something had been there, and left, and taken all the warmth with it.

By now, you'd been avoiding his hall entirely. Formed a new habit—walked the longer path to your quarters, kept your head bowed more respectfully during meetings, left before he could catch your eye.

It simply had to be this way.

And, sure— you missed him.

You missed him in ways you didn't have the language for, in ways you wished you could described if only losing a piece of your soul was easy to describe. Because it wasn't just the shared looks, wasn't just the touches, the kisses goodnight—

You missed his voice. His smile. When they weren't meant for anyone else; when he said your name when no one was listening. These things—all of them—that soon, you knew, would belong to someone else.

That he would belong to someone else.

That he would marry someone else, and— and what could a knight do?

What could you do?

You'd heard it now through whispers, then through the official talks. A name had been floated; a political match that made sense.

And you told yourself that it was always going to end like this. That your role in his life was temporary. Just a secret, soft, guarded secret he'd kept while you both waited for the inevitable… soft around the edges, to be kept and folded away without too much pain.

But it did hurt.

Gods, it hurt.

Everytime you laid to sleep, you pressed your fingers to your lips like an idiot, and wondered if he remembered the last kiss like you did.

If he regretted it.

If he thought that things had stepped too far.

And then one evening, you lingered longer in the armory under the guise of inventory.

The space was dim, your hands were idle. You sat in the corner—you had run the inventory, but that was over now. And in this quiet space, your thoughts were louder than they should have been.

Because fuck it all—it hurt, and you missed him.

You wondered—should you have fought for him?

Should you have dared, even?

So little you could do in your position; so much that you could dream.

You groaned, head in your hands as your knees drew to your chest, and you barely even noticed that the door had opened.

A quiet pad of footsteps.

You raised your head, half-expecting a squire or a steward, but—

It was him.

Xavier.

You swallowed thickly, eyes frozen—

Then, quietly:

"There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

You could see his shoulders slump in relief a little, as if the mere sight of you had calmed him, as if he'd waited—desperately—for another moment to share with you. While you could do nothing. You watched, stayed still when he moved to sit beside you, a few paces away, respecting the boundary that he knew you'd put up, letting his words hang in the air a little.

"You… stopped coming to say goodnight," he added after a while. Not looking at you, but looking straight ahead.

As if he could scare you with another glance.

"…I, um. Didn't want to be a burden."

"You aren't, though."

You swallowed. You could feel your heart thudding painfully against your ribs. "…Well, they… They said you were meeting her. Next week, right? The… the noblewoman. Your betrothed."

Out of the corner of your eye, his expression flickered.

"Mn, they've arranged a meeting. But she isn't my betrothed. None of this means that I've agreed to anything."

"But you will."

Silence.

You turned.

"You… will, won't you?"

And then your eyes met, again you held your breath, and he gave you a slow, strained smile.

No.

"Your Highness, please, I don't want you to—"

"Do you know?"

He whispered, but it was enough to cut you off.

Your mouth clamped shut.

"Do you know how many times I've looked at the throne room, full of all these people… and only wanted to find your face?"

Your breath caught.

"I never wanted to stop what we had," he mumbled. "I thought you just needed space, so I gave it to you, I didn't mean…"

"But that's not the point, Your Highness. You're to marry, I can't just—"

"I thought you regretted it."

You exhaled slowly. "…Never."

Never.

And this time he drew closer; reached for you, as if so desperate, now, not to have you leave his side again.

How could you ever have it in you to pull back?

"Please," he whispered, "I— I haven't been sleeping."

His voice felt raw; you heard it strain like the way he was trying to keep it together in front of you.

"You… You're my knight, and you've protected me all this time,but you don't have to protect me from heartbreak. Not like this. I don't want it like this. I need you to believe that I can choose it, even if it hurts, and that I'll…"

You closed your eyes. In that moment, listening, you resigned—allowed yourself a moment of selfishness, allowed yourself to lean in, bury your face into his chest.

You heard it, the way his breath hitched.

Slowly his arms wrapped around your figure, questioning, unsure, but so… hopeful.

"I never thought I could belong in your world," you murmured. Your voice was muffled by his clothing. "I still don't know if I do. You're meant to belong to someone else, and I—"

"I don't want someone else."

"…I don't want you to want someone else, either."

He leaned down to rest his chin on top of the crown of your head then, and then there was silence.

Neither of you moved, neither of you said another word.

Right now, you thought you could enjoy it—just another quiet moment for the two of you, another illusion that everything was fine.

&—

The castle had never been louder.

“Did you hear?” said one.

“He turned her down," said another.

“It's a royal scandal!” "What will the court think?!" "Does this mean something for our Kingdom?!"

Word spread fast, as usual.

You'd borne the brunt of it before, but now you were a spectator—curious, at that.

It was today; earlier. Xavier had journeyed to meet up with his betrothed, and you'd purposely kept away from him, but he'd returned with nothing but silence.

You hadn't seen him.

He hadn't sat through his duties, hadn't offered a word to anyone… Not the King, nor you, nor—anyone. Just ridden straight through the gates and disappeared into his chambers without even an escort.

And you had heard all of this in fragments. Snatches of gossip, pieces and bits, a part of the vine that crawled, and crawled, and crawled…

Even your captain had to look up from his reports to ask, "Did you know anything about this?"

You didn't.

You knew nothing.

You didn't know why he’d done it, or what it meant, but—but you had hope that you did. The kind of hope that had you freezing; foggy. Something lodged in your throat, something unspeakable and trembling, and—

You could tell yourself to leave it alone.

You could.

But you didn't.

And in all manners predictable, by nightfall, you'd found yourself standing right in front of his door again.

It had been so long.

Your fist hovered, uncertain, still—

He'd said no, to a future. A future set out for him, a future that would've made sense, a crown-sanctioned bride that should have been—

He said no to the wishes of his Kingdom.

It was a risk, one unimaginable, even for you.

And you needed to know why .

So you knocked, once.

The door opened almost instantly, as though he’d been waiting, and he looked…

Tired.

Rumpled.

He had no cloak, no gloves, and his shirt remained half-unbuttoned at the collar, like he hadn't even bothered changing since he'd gotten back hours ago. So when your eyes met, for a moment neither of you moved.

Then, quietly, he stepped aside.

“You heard,” he said.

You entered, keeping your gaze on the ground. “The whole castle's heard.”

"… Of course."

He exhaled. A small, tired laugh escaped his lips. And still you wouldn't look at him, but you grasped at his sleeve, and tugged.

"Why?" you whispered.

“Because I couldn’t lie anymore.”

You drew in a breath.

“I thought I could do it,” he muttered. You could hear a dry smile in the way that he spoke. “I thought I could be what they needed, marry who they wanted… But I sat across from her, and all I could think was—she isn’t you.”

He took a slow step towards you; broke that distance in an instant. 15 centimeters? No more.

And every word, every breath, they would still you in your own movements, render you frozen to the spot, but he—

This time, he wouldn't let you.

“I tried to forget. To be noble. To be dutiful.” Another step. “But I’ve been in love with you for so long, and now I know that I wouldn’t know how to stop. I don't know."

You looked up, this time. Slowly, as he drew you in. A hand at your waist, a touch you didn't refuse—a gaze you couldn't look away from.

And, god, you were weak.

"…I like it, when you name things," you whispered back finally. A line that was familiar; memories drawn to that balcony, late at night, but a line you would repeat for yourself to hear. "It makes them feel more real. It makes you feel more real. Not like… Like a star, up in the sky, far too high that I can't dream to reach."

Like, you... have always been too far from me. But, I...

It began with trembling lips.

His hands rose to cup your jaw, and yours fisted gently into the fabric of his shirt—clinging, like you didn’t trust the moment to stay if you let go.

"It is real," Xavier breathed. "It's very, very real. This moment, and us."

And he kissed you.

Your lips met with the soft, inevitable gravity of two people who had always been drifting toward each other; like he had waited for years; like you had only a single remaining language in your heart that existed in the shape of him.

So when his hands began to roam—slow, careful, unhurried—you didn't stop him. You basked in it. The finality of it. It sent a heat heat skimming beneath your skin, and immediately your body responded before you could think, pressing into him as he guided you backwards.

And your name.

God, your name.

You'd never heard it sound so sweet, so loving, not like the way he whispered it between your lips. Every kiss, every movement—your name fell still, like a sigh; a quiet chant, and it made you weak.

The backs of your legs hit his bed, and you let yourself fall.

Into him, and the mattress—into everything and anything that this moment was building up to.

And he kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you—barely spent a second away from you, even as he unfastened your tunic with slow fingers, each button undone like an unspoken confession.

Only when it was off did he pause, sitting back.

You watched his eyes. Saw the awe in them.

Devotion.

Reverence.

"So beautiful," he whispered.

And as you flushed at his response to you, he kissed your jaw, your shoulder, the hollow of your collarbone. Soft, fluttering kisses, down your body, almost enough to have you weeping from the way he did it—like every part of you was worth loving. You'd barely even choked back a sob when he pulled away to undress. Clearly every bit as eager as wanting as you.

And so you froze a moment, drank him in—every golden line of his chest, the way candlelight haloed over the silvery strands of his hair.

You watched, still, as he came down over you. He placed both forearms on either side of your head, and a small smile played at your lips;

He said it again.

"You're so beautiful," he sighed. "Like… an angel."

You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or burrow in embarrassment, but even as your face reddened, that lovesick look on his face rendered you silent.

And this time, he took his time.

He trailed your jaw, your neck, your collarbone—feeling, this time, with the tips of his fingers, as if carefully wanting to leave on you a mark of his own touch.

He moved lower.

His gaze followed where his hands went, dipping down your sides, sliding over to brush beneath your breast. When he stroked over to your belly, you held you breath; when he held your hip and nudged your waistband down, you arched in permission.

And despite how the situation was—despite the way he'd leave you completely bare, despite the inevitable, then that this was leading to—you found that his touches were devoid of any ulterior motive.

His eyes, when he raised them back to yours, were so loving. As if, he wanted to say—even this, now, feels like coming home.

And maybe it was.

Maybe it was, in the way he seeked to explore every little inch of you. The way he traced your skin, meant to memorize every curve. The way every touch, now, built warmth right into you, slow, and steady, and tender, until he knew that you ached for him—possibly, then, in ways you'd never dared to explore before this.

So when he kissed you next, it was gentle.

Intentional, but gentle.

You could feel years of unspoken yearning behind the way his mouth moved against yours, the way he cupped your cheek and dipped the tip of his tongue into your parted lips.

Immediately, naturally—your legs parted, raising to cradle his hips.

Against your bare sex you could feel the friction of his bulge, and you tugged at his hair.

Off, you seemed to plead.

He only looked at you with a smile.

There was a sparkle in his eyes—love, still, and this time a little hint of teasing.

He nuzzled your cheek. "Do you need something?" he murmured.

He'd play the oblivious, innocent rabbit, even now.

"…Xavier," you whispered.

You closed your eyes, brought your lips close to his ear.

"Xavier."

And you had never said his name before. Not without titles, or formal address—

Never just his name.

You heard his breath hitch; felt his grip tighten around your arm.

"You…" He sounded like he was struggling to breathe. You could have sworn you felt him grow, against you.

And perhaps you felt daring, perhaps this was that unabashed, bolder side of you again—

You raised your hips and ground yourself against him, and you nearly trembled at the sound of his moan.

"Xavier," you repeated again, barely even a breath. "Please…"

There was a moment of parting, a moment where he stared, still, before he chuckled and complied. Slowly, articles of clothing bared him to you in turn, and you keened at the way he pressed himself against you once more. Firmer, this time. More sure.

"My angel…" he whispered, running a hand down your cheek before he kissed the place that he'd touched. "You're still here."

"I'll always be here. I don't want… to leave you ever again, Xavier, I…"

"Shhh. You're okay. I have you."

You gasped then, as you felt it.

The head of his cock rubbed deliciously at your entrance—not quite entering, but teasing, so, so, teasing.

Another roll of his hips drew a whimper from you this time, and his eyes glinted with mischief.

"You're enjoying this…" you whined.

He smiled. "Immensely."

And then he raised your hips, slot himself right at your hole, wrapped your legs at his waist—

"Breathe, angel."

The stretch was exquisite.

You felt yourself arching into him, trembling as he took you whole. Inch by inch he slid inside you, rubbing your hips in circles, bringing a hand up to his lips for him to kiss.

You were startled, almost. You could feel every vein, every ridge—every perfection as he filled you, and, all be damned—you wanted him. So, so, incredibly bad.

His hand moved, then, to stroke your side, a gentle, soothing motion as you pulsed and wrapped around him. He leaned in to kiss your temple, your cheek, your lips—as though trying to anchor you there with him.

"Are you okay?" he murmured against your skin. "Still with me?"

You could only nod, your voice too thick with emotion to answer.

His forehead rested against you, fingers threading with yours beside your head.

“You’re shaking,” he nuzzled you.

"I…"

Am I?

You marveled. You hadn't noticed, but you supposed that you were.

"I-I'm just—" You swallowed. “I'm really happy. I didn’t think I’d ever get this… you… us…"

He chuckled, kissed your cheek. "But it feels good, right?"

"Mhm. Real good."

"Can I move?"

You paused, then wrapped your arms around his neck— "Please."

And he did.

He fell against you, braced slightly on his arms, yet when his weight settled—it was grounding.

It was real.

So real, even if you felt you could float, because you felt him.

In, and out. In, and out.

He moved slowly, giving you time, watching your face with every shift of his hips. Every glide sent shivers through you. Every grind of his hips sent a heat sparking your skin.

"Xavier…" you whispered again; moaned. "Oh, god… y-you're so good…"

"Mh? Do you like it?"

He kissed you again, and you breathed him in.

And then you didn't realize you were crying, not until he pulled his lips away, brushed a thumb across your cheek.

"Am I hurting you? Is it too much?" He stilled, a moment, cupped your cheeks to get you to look at him. "You're crying…"

"No, I…"

You sniffled, a little, had to bite your lip a moment before you could continue.

You pulled him close, lifted your hips for him once more.

"D-don't stop, please," you breathed. "I'm just… so… in love with you…"

His eyes, already so tender, seemed to drown in your words, to overflow at the same time with a sense of love that only you could understand in turn.

His hips snapped—jerked, a little, as if spurred to action by the heat of the moment. Deeper, this time, so wonderfully deep. It drew a single, broken gasp from you—half sob, half moan, and he knew.

He did it again.

"…Like that?" he whispered.

Again.

You gripped his shoulders, drew your nails down to his back. "Yes. Yes, please, just like that, Xavier."

And then you had found your rhythm.

Steady, deep, and perfect.

His hands framed your face, kissed your cheeks where the tears had fallen… so much tenderness, and reverence, and devotion, and you believed—

This was how it was supposed to be.

This was how it was meant to be.

And your hands roamed his back, down to his hips, pulling him deeper. "More, please, my prince…"

"Mnnh, but you can't… s-say my title, like I'm not—"

"Xavier."

You moaned his name to placate him, but snuck in a cheeky smile.

"Xavier, my prince, my liege, my—"

You could have squealed at the way he kissed you then.

In a rush to shut you up, perhaps, his kiss had lost much of the gentleness with which he'd been treating you. Deeper, rougher, messier—his tongue found yours, and he wasn't breathing you in, he was drinking you in.

Dizzy.

When he pulled away, you forgot how to breathe, and still his hips continued to move at his rhythm.

"I dare you," he spoke through gritted teeth, panting, "to say that again." A challenge. "Do you wish so badly to be reminded of our differences when I'm inside you?"

And though his words made you flush, you only shook your head.

"It feels… ah… I-it feels more real when I s-say it out loud—" You gasped, trying to take the pleasure he was giving you. "Th-that despite everything— Even if you're the prince, and I'm the knight, we're — oh, god— w-we're both still here… In this moment… Together..."

He gripped your hips, rocked into you in a way that made you breathless.

"…You're right," he murmured. "That isn't going to change what we feel. Not anymore."

The pleasure built further, then. Gradually. Quiet moans became harder to keep in check, especially not when you could feel him pulse the way he did.

"I-I'm…" you choked out, trying to hold back a cry. "C-close… Xavier…"

"Mhm. I am, too. L-let's… cum together…"

He held your hands, gripped them tightly as he stilled.

He throbbed; you felt it. And a warm, sticky sensation filled you, enough for you to tremble, enough for you to still—frozen, captured—

He kissed you, again. Whispered your name onto your lips, a soft gasp, a prayer.

And even afterwards, he didn't dare leave you.

He gathered you into his arms, not minding the mess, not minding the way you'd tangled together in the passion you'd shared just then.

And he kissed you over, and over, and over again—

"Xavier, I love you," you sniffled.

"And I love you, my angel. For you… have always been mine."

And in the quiet that followed, as you drifted into sleep… You felt that you finally believed it.

&—

You woke slowly, the sunlight filtering through the heavy curtains in soft strips of gold. Yet, the warmth that cocooned you wasn’t just the sun—

It was him.

Still, always, him.

Xavier, half-asleep, lay with one arm lazily draped across your waist, his breath steady against the back of your neck.

For a moment you simply lay there, smiling quietly to yourself. The memories of last night came back in waves—his touch, his voice, the way he’d held you like you was everything...

You'd cleaned, before you slept, but you still felt every little sensation so vividly. Even now your body still hummed from it, a quiet, satisfied ache in all the right places. And you thought, foolishly, that you really might just lie here forever, suspended in the hush of a private morning.

Until you felt the press of his lips at your shoulder.

Soft.

Then, again—lower, this time.

You blinked sleepily, shifting under the sheets. “You're awake?” you murmured, a smile at the edge of your lips.

He hummed. "I wouldn't be, but you're distracting."

You huffed a laugh, turning your head slightly to peer at him over your shoulder. “I’m not even doing anything…”

“You exist.” His mouth trailed down the curve of your spine, slow, purposeful. “It’s more than enough.”

And before you could react, really, you felt the last shape of his smile against your back before he moved even lower, slipping under the covers.

“Xavier…” you warned gently, though your voice had little conviction. A thrill had already started curling in your belly—anticipation, excitement. “You’re insatiable.”

“But I’ve shown restraint for years,” he murmured from somewhere near your hips. “I’m just making up for lost time. Besides…"

You squeaked as you felt him lick right above your mound, sending tingles all over your body.

"I didn't taste you last night. Don't I get a taste test of my beloved queen?"

Beloved queen.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Another kiss; inside your thigh, nuzzling into you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"X-Xavier—!"

His tongue was soft at first, teasing. Coaxing you awake in ways that had nothing to do with the sunlight. Your body arched of its own accord, slow and easy, thighs parting to grant him better access— You felt his hands hold you steady, and then he began to devour you with that same kind of reverence that made you feel drunk on him all over again.

You reached down blindly, fingers threading through his hair. “You really don’t have to—ah—Xavier—!"

“But I want to,” he said between kisses, between licks, with his breath still hot against you. “You taste really good, I wish I'd done this sooner.”

A moan spilled from your lips as his own closed right around your clit. It turned into a laugh, almost—you trembled, it was a little high pitched. “You—! Y-you're ridiculous,” you huffed, but still affection pooling in your chest as much as the heat searing between your legs.

This time, he didn't reply, not quite.

Just a groan—either from your words or the way you bucked slightly against his mouth, you couldn't really tell.

But oh, did it feel fucking good .

You felt him part your folds, add in a teasing lick at your entrance. He'd dip the tip of his tongue inside before gliding it achingly close to your clit—a few repetitions of the movement before it swirled over your bud, flicked it to the side.

"Oh, god—!"

Spurred on by your sounds, he only continued. Moaned against your skin, mixed in shamelessly with the lewd, slick sounds of your arousal. When his tongue slipped in, you cried—bucked, writhed, almost. Your fingers dug into his hair, and before you knew it, you were grinding into him, finding your rhythm.

"Xavier!" you whined. "Oh, god… oh, god, fffu—hnng—"

Your legs seized.

You felt him press you open, pushed onto the mattress, never daring to allow you any escape—

"C, c-cummin—ngh—!"

Your orgasm rushed to the surface as your back arched, curling into him with no more control over your movements.

But, greedily, he continued. Lapped you up, flicked at your clit. Enough so that by now you'd kicked at the covers, whined and tugged him up.

"Xavier… Xavier!" you huffed, panted.

When he stopped, finally, you sank weakly into the pillows, already drawing up one of them to cover your flushed face.

Not that he'd let you, of course.

He rose up to meet you with a smug, warm grin, crawling up to pull the pillow away and press a kiss to your cheek.

“Good morning,” he hummed.

Cheeky.

So, incredibly cheeky.

Donning a pout and feigning upset, you tilted your head to look at him, “Good morning, you menace.”

He only chuckled again and pulled you against his chest. “You like it, though.”

"You're lucky I do."

Your body was still warm, skin humming with the afterglow as you gave in and draped your arm across him. He was cozy, still. Despite the way you felt like you were already spent, you wouldn't turn away more cuddles from him. And in turn, he brushed his fingers up and down your bare back, slow and absent, as though touching you had become second nature.

You sighed contentedly.

"You know… most people start their mornings with tea."

"Mmm." A squeeze on your arm. "But this is better."

"You're going to spoil me."

"Good, I want to."

You felt him stir, then, and your breath caught—he ground against your thigh, just enough to earn you that delicious, delicious little groan.

"Your Highness…" you huffed.

"Mn, I know… But you're just so…"

Another grind, and you felt him tremble.

And it was so, so hard to resist, even for you.

"Please?" he murmured, nuzzling your neck.

"…Again? But you just…"

"I need you…"

And he rolled you gently onto your back, settled over you with a practiced ease.

A beat.

You looked at each other.

And now, like this, his eyes were so pleading, that you eventually broke out into a barely-contained smile of your own.

You were so weak.

He made you utterly, completely weak.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes, "last one, and then we get ready."

And it was so natural.

There was no urgency this time, only a warm familiarity as he slid into you. Still you felt the stretch, and still you felt yourself drawn in to take him all. And then you kissed, and gasped softly against his mouth, hands rising up to cradle the back of his neck.

“My prince,” you whispered, breath hitching as he began to move, “you’re impossible.”

He gave another peck to your lips, grinned as your hips lifted to meet his rhythm. This time it wasn't so deep, or hungry, or too much, it was just—

Right.

So right.

And kisses turned to giggles, and somewhere between slow thrusts and quiet moans, a conversation bubbled like the most natural thing in the world.

“I… still have meetings later,” he murmured against your neck. “Dull things. Reports, schedules. Nobles who love the sound of their own voices.”

Laughing softly, you arched into him again with a little hum. “And so I told you we mustn't take too long."

"But I want to spend the morning with you."

"You can't spend the whole morning…"

"Mn…" His hips moved with a slow roll then that made your eyes flutter, grinding against your sweet spot so perfect. “Still, it would be better if you were there.”

You grinned.

“As your knight or as your lover?” you teased, though something in your voice was soft. Wondering.

He looked at you then, his rhythm pausing just long enough for the weight of his gaze to settle. He brushed a strand of hair from your damp forehead.

“Both.”

You pulled him back into you, clung to him as you nuzzled into your neck.

"Ah, hearing you say that… feels almost as good as this…"

"This?"

He nudged your head, nipped at your cheek. You could feel him grin—another particularly angled thrust had the head of his cock kissing at your g-spot, and you shuddered.

"Mhm… just like that."

And he chuckled, timing every movement of his hips to hit that spot just right, just the way you liked it; only one time before and he'd already memorized every spot that made you cave so much.

He voiced it out. Poked his tongue out to make kitten licks at your neck, absolutely cherished the way that you groaned for him. "I already know what you like, angel. You like it here…"

His hand moved down, brushed against your nipple.

"And, here…"

With a grin, he dipped his head to nip at your collarbone.

"And, here…"

His hand moved lower down still, slid between your tangled limbs, and pressed against your clit.

You gasped, eyes wide, and he dared to grind against you, rubbing against your clit so perfectly that you nearly weeped again.

"X-Xavier!" you whimpered. "Y-you're so unfair, that's— ngh—"

Again he moved up your body to nuzzle your cheek affectionately, but his hand stayed at your nub and moved in slow, steady circles to match his hips.

“Today,” he said, breath warm and steady, “I’m going to tell them. The court. The council. Everyone.”

Your eyes widened, lips parted in pleasured puffs.

“I’m going to tell them I want to marry my knight,” he continued, fondly. “That I will.”

And you felt as if your heart could burst.

The world, around you, seemed to sway. Not from the motion of your bodies, even—but from this, this rush of emotion, the disbelief that settled into an overwhelming sense of love.

You didn't think you could love him any more than you did.

But he was very good at proving that notion wrong.

"You… you mean it?" you breathed.

"Mhm."

"You… I… I-I'm going to be your… queen?"

"Mhm."

He leaned in to kiss you again—that same gentle, soft kiss, followed by little fluttering ones all over your face until he reached the corners of your eyes.

Despite yourself, a little giggle fell from your lips, one that easily turned into a squeal as he flipped you over.

Now, with your face into the pillows, you felt his breath tickling your neck, as he gave you more kisses—down your back, along your spine, before he entered again.

Deeper this time. Much deeper than he had before.

"Oh, my god—Xavier, fuck— I—!"

He chuckled, raked his fingers through your hair. "Language," he murmured, "you're not being very classy today."

"Uh, it's your fault that I—!"

You barely got your words out before he slammed back into you, a motion causing your body to rock forward with a gasp. His weight pushed into you, laying like a weighted blanket, allowing you to feel just how deep he could take you.

"It's okay," he breathed, hot against the shell of your ear. "You're being such a good girl for me, my queen."

You could barely process his words, already dizzying at all these delicious sensations.

"You'll be the death of me, my liege."

When he moved again, it didn't take long for the both of you to reach your high. Similarly, still, to just the night before—his hips stilled, moans muffled into the nape of your neck, filling you wholly and completely and perfectly.

He'd turned you over then, pulling out slow, cradling your head in his hands.

"…I mean it," he whispered. "I want to marry you."

"…You're proposing to me after sex?" you laughed softly.

"Well… then do you accept?"

"Of course I do, Xavier."

He smiled. "I'm going to make you my queen. Just you wait."

"If… they don't accept?"

"We can always elope. You'd still be my queen."

You laughed again.

How odd it was, you found, that even in this situation you could still find humor, and comfort. But you supposed that was what it was like—when things felt right, when things felt settled enough.

In your heart, you knew that everything was going to be alright.

The promise lingered, settled in the quiet that followed. Here, in this room, you had everything you needed—you lay with tangled limbs, your hearts so open and tethered, and a world of hope waiting on the other side of the door, but you had each other.

That was the most important part.

You had each other.

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

121 notes · View notes

love-belle · 2 years ago

Text

i'll be loving you for quite some time !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fall-in-love-again era is them pretending as if they aren't back together and having just a little bit fun with everyone.

for when you know it'll be them till the end. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lando norris x fem!reader

prequel - i bet you think about me ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - hiiii!!!! so sorry for being inactive i have midterms :/// posting rn bc i js couldn't wait!!!! i hope u like this <3 i love u thank u so much for reading <3

tagged @marsdreamworld @luvrrish @ccallistata @eviethetheatrefreak @f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, alex_albon and 689,625 others

yourusername seeing him tonight it's a bad idea right

6,728 comments

username PLEASE WHAT IS THIS

username MOTHER????? HELLO??????

username ahahahahahahahaha hey there!!!!!!

username she's actually so ❤️

username HELLO THE CAPTION WHAT

-> yourusername i js love my daughter oliviarodrigo

-> oliviarodrigo mom 🫶🏼

username the absolute lack of petty posts we've had from lando and y/n..........

-> username no bc WHAT ARE THEY COOKING 💯💯💯🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️

username pls get back with lando and put me out of my misery 🙏

username what the fuck is going on

username THE CAPTION??? Y/N WHAT.

username no bc i need them BACK together like asap 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

danielricciardo very bad idea

-> yourusername he's annoying

-> danielricciardo very true

username DANIEL SPILL 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

username ahahahahahahahaha!!!!! what.

username js one chance i will never shade u like lando did

username no bc i need them back together before valentine's bc i CANNOT miss on their posts for each like

-> username "here's to my forever valentine, ur annoying and i'm in love ❤️" IM CRYING

-> username istg i will never get over them ://

username FUCK IT IT'S FINE

*liked by yourusername*

charles_leclerc again, listen to me and don't go

-> alexandrasaintmleux shut up

-> yourusername fr

-> charles_leclerc WHY AM I BEING BULLIED

username all the grid is plotting against lando and im here for every second of it

username may god bless the dinosaur that died in order to create the fossil that was processed to fuel that took the car to bring her mom to the hospital to give birth to her

-> yourusername wow

username if she's seeing lando i will SCREAM

username all jokes aside, if they really REALLY broke up then i hope that everyone leaves them alone bc imagine everyone bringing ur ex (the one whom u dated for such a long time) into everything like if i were her that would RUIN me

-> username fr like i love them both but if they really broke up then i hope people leave them alone

username mother is mothering so hard

maxverstappen1 do you not remember what happened the last time?

-> yourusername it wasn't that bad

-> danielricciardo yes it was

-> charles_leclerc yes it was

-> kellypiquet yes it was

-> carlossainz55 yes it was

-> pierregasly yes it was

-> lewishamilton yes it was

-> lilymhe yes it was

-> carmenmmundt yes it was

-> heidiberger_ yes it was

-> yourusername oh my god

-> username LMFAOAOOAOA

-> username bruh the CROWD here rn

username earth is weirdly off it's axis since ur break up pls get back with dad ❤️

username no bc lando better be on all fours if he wants her back like nothing less is VALID

username HER.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 796,426 others

landonorris feels like a taylor swift song

8,728 comments

username LANDO NORRIS WHO IS THAT.

username TOO MUCH TO DISSECT THE LYRICS THE PHOTOS

username THAT'S GOT TO BE Y/N I WILL CRY IF THAT'S NOT HER

username if that's not y/n i will burn down mclaren

-> mclaren fix yourself landonorris

-> landonorris STOP PUTTING ME ON THE SPOT

-> username admin is done with his shit

username yo wtfff

username babe wake up new y/n and lando lore js dropped ❤️

danielricciardo interesting choice of photos

-> landonorris thank you ☺️

username i will not sleep until i get answers

username we !! need !! answers !!

username genuinely on the edge of my seat fr like WHATTT

username the lyrics speak VOLUMES

username no bc if this is not y/n i will in SHAMBLES

-> username FRRRR LIKE WDYM MY COMFORT COUPLE ARE OVER

username guys i know it was for funsies before but it's getting a bit silly now 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

-> username fr like y'all can stop pranking us now thank u.

charles_leclerc i hope she leaves you. AGAIN.

-> landonorris what have i ever done to you.

-> charles_leclerc ate my pasta

-> maxverstappen1 no offense but the day someone eats your pasta, it's the pearly gates for them

-> landonorris facts

-> pierregasly never eat charles' pasta

-> alex_albon it's deadly

-> charles_leclerc STOP TALKING ABOUT MY PASTA

-> charles_leclerc lando i hope she dumps you

-> landonorris you taKE THAT BACK

username LANDO WE NEED ANSWERS

username what the fuck is going is

username nice joke 😐😐😐😐 hard launch NOW.

username no bc that's y/n i don't take any criticism

username where tf are the twitter girlies they need to play detective rn

username lando this is ur last chance at confirming if that's y/n or not or else im hugging a tree at 178 mph

georgerussell63 you don't even listen to taylor swift

-> landonorris i'm a changed man

-> georgerussell63 you're barely a man

-> landonorris BLOCKED

username i live for the grid violating lando at every possible chance

username this has to be illegal they're playing with my blood pressure

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, charles_leclerc and 713,729 others

yourusername date night but it's js me telling u about my succulents and my cats

8,137 comments

username DATE NIGHT

username mom r u done with dad be so honest

username WHAT ABOUT YOUR CHILDERN (us)

username stay together for the kids ❤️

username SHE'S SO ANGELIC WHATCTHEBFUCK

username oh i js died died

alexandrasaintmleux pretty baby 🤍

-> yourusername i love u 🤍

username forever in awe of her likeeee

username im so in love i might stop breathing

username u can talk to me about plants any day of week!!!!!! i'll even bring my plants and they can have a little photosynthetic date!!!!! and u and i a humanistic one

username i am coming for u mclaren

danielricciardo i wasn't aware of you going on a date - lando (PLEASE UNBLOCK ME)

-> yourusername yeah it's js with this loser 💔 (no.)

-> danielricciardo wow and to think i chose your favourite place tonight UNBLOCK ME

-> yourusername no ❤️

-> username PLEASE WHAT IS THIS INTERACTION

-> username they're talking?????? omg??????

-> username not him still being blocked 😭😭😭😭😭

danielricciardo real daniel here please unblock him

-> yourusername lando give daniel his phone back

-> danielricciardo FUCK YOU

-> yourusername this isn't getting u any brownie points

-> danielricciardo I DON'T WANT ANY I WANT YOU BACK

*danielricciardo deleted this comment*

-> username OH I SAW THAT OMG

-> username lando in his redemption era we love to see it

username i love her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

username lando im puncturing ur tires

username someone check on how lando's doing

lilymhe gorgeous 🫶🏼 you can talk my ear off any day

-> yourusername lily i ADORE u <3

username lando r u still breathing

username AHAHHHHSHDHDHDHDJDKDKSK

-> username real

username my pronouns are she not her bc i'll never be HER

lewishamilton please unblock him he's about to cry

-> maxverstappen1 tears are welling

-> charles_leclerc he's sniffling

-> carlossainz55 eyes have glossed over

-> oscarpiastri holding them tears at bay right now

-> pierregasly can confirm

-> alex_albon please unblock him

-> georgerussell63 he's genuinely sobbing right now

-> mclaren we can hear the cries

-> yourusername LANDO GIVE EVERYONE THEIR PHONE BACK ISTG

-> scuderiaferrari UNBLOCK ME FIRST

-> username oh this man's DEDICATED

username genuinely in ruins rn

username oh to go on a date with her ❤️

francisca.cgomes love 💌

*liked by yourusername*

username im so.

username ???? DATE ????

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, georgerussell63 and 798,528 others

landonorris she's kinda okay

9,728 comments

username WAR IS OVER

username OH MY GOD

username "kinda okay" don't like u weren't in SHAMBLES bc of her

username world is spinning again god bless

username never have i ever felt a sense of relief this immense

username SCREECHING WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

username genuinely speechless rn

charles_leclerc "kinda okay" you cried when she blocked you

-> landonorris OH MY GOD STOP

-> username LMFAOAOAOAO

-> username PLEASE OMG

username im here for every second of this

username YESSSHSHSHSHS

username i just fell to my knees at home depot

username OH MY GOD????????

lewishamilton stop being weepy now x

-> landonorris tell her to stop being mean to me x

-> lewishamilton she said nothing wrong x

-> landonorris SHE CALLED ME A MCDONALD'S CLOWN

-> landonorris x

username THE WAY IM GRINNING RN

username drought is over ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username they got back for ME

lilymhe you break her heart, i'll nail gun yours. got it?

-> landonorris yes ma'am.

-> username lily u will always be famous ❤️

username THEM.

username the biggest sigh of relief js left me

username NAHHH THIS MFS ARE EVIL LIKEE I ALMOST BROKE DOWN BC OF THEM AND THE WHOLE TIME THEY WERE JS SEEING EACH OTHER

-> username bitches (affectionate)

username missed my parents ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭😭😭

username LET'S FUCKING GO

username watch lando get a podium at the next race

-> username oh my man's gonna be motivated

alexandrasaintmleux don't make me pull out the 25272828 messages from u saying how much u love me and those ESSAYS u sent me - y/n

-> landonorris first, DON'T do that

-> landonorris second, why are you using alex no. 2's phone?

-> alexandrasaintmleux first, DON'T tell me what to do

-> alexandrasaintmleux second, i'm blocked???

-> alexandrasaintmleux please don't call me alex no. 2 - alex

-> landonorris first, noted

-> landonorris second, i unblocked you???

-> landonorris sorry alexA force of habit

-> alexandrasaintmleux oh

-> username nah they forced my girl alex to sign off as "alex" on her OWN acc 😭😭😭😭

-> username PLEASE WHAT IS THIS CONVO

-> username the two things i've inferred from above are 1) y/n is not blocked on lando's acc she js chooses to comment from other ppl's phone and refuses to elaborate and 2) lando calls alexandra alex no. 2

-> username this is a WILD place to be

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by kellypiquet, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 799,152 others

yourusername yeah i'll be loving u for quite some time or whatever taylor swift said (❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️)

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon, danielricciardo and 825,826 others

landonorris happier than ever

11,638 comments

username LANDO NORRIS U ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE

username nah not him using the same caption that he used to shade her

-> username it's almost poetic in a way

username I JUST SCREECHED WHAT THE FUCK

username WAR IS OVER 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username the way i collapsed omg

username THE CAPTION HELP??????

username this is life altering

charles_leclerc not a funny caption

-> landonorris have a sense of humour

-> charles_leclerc i have you as a friend and you're a joke so, i do, in fact, have a sense of humour

-> landonorris you're getting reported for that

-> username LMFAOAOAOAO

-> username PLEASE OMG

username im sooooo here for this

username brb checking if my toaster is waterproof or not

-> username i'll join u!!

username SCREECHING OH MY GOD

username i feel like i've js managed to make two toddlers quit fighting and feel like such a proud parent

-> danielricciardo that's exactly how we feel

-> heidiberger_ so true

-> maxverstappen1 absolutely

-> kellypiquet they were worse than actual kids

-> sebastianvettel they're stubborn

-> scuderiaferrari the amount of times we've had to stop y/n from smashing his car is insane

-> mclaren we had to stay indoors with locked doors scuderiaferrari

-> susie_wolff it was horrible

-> landonorris every single one of you is horrible

-> carmenmmundt fuck u all i hope u step on a lego - y/n

-> landonorris FOR THE LAST TIME YOU'RE NOT BLOCKED yourusername

-> carmenmmundt idc

username life has meaning again

username omg

username THE WEEKND LYRICS OH MY GOD

-> username im folded

username SCREAMING IM SOOOO HAPPY

username they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username they're actually so taylor swift coded it's INSANE

username brb gonna cry some more

username i used to PRAY for this

danielricciardo could've chosen a different caption - y/n

-> landonorris IT'S THE THOUGH THAT COUNTS

-> danielricciardo terrible thought

-> landonorris i take it back

-> danielricciardo ❤️

danielricciardo this is sweet

-> landonorris thank you

danielricciardo I LOVE YOU

-> landonorris I LOVE YOU MOREEE

danielricciardo bf

-> landonorris gf

-> username what in the world am i witnessing

-> username shh js look away

-> username what in the dando i just witnessed

-> username NOT DANDO OH MY GOD

username sleepover on highway !!!!!!!!!!!!!

username im sooooOOOOooo normal about this (!!!!!!!!!!!)

username ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

danielricciardo nice jacket in the last slide

-> landonorris yeah it'll look even better on your floor

-> danielricciardo mate what the actual fuck

-> landonorris NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

-> landonorris WHERE'S Y/N

-> danielricciardo SHE GAVE ME MY PHONE BACK

-> landonorris OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY

-> heidiberger_ wow

-> yourusername i guess it's js us now heidiberger_

-> heidiberger_ ❤️❤️❤️

-> landonorris NOW YOU CHOOSE TO BE ON YOUR OWN ACCOUNT yourusername???

-> yourusername yes ❤️

-> username this is CRAZY

-> username i genuinely have a whiplash

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris insta au #lando norris fluff #lando norris au #lando norris blurb #lando norris

2K notes · View notes

dearreader · 1 year ago

Text

k so i made this poll awhile ago to answer my question on if people would rather spend a date with a swiftie or an anti-swiftie (someone who hates her and devotes their life to hating on her). i mentioned i didn’t have the spoons to handle it being longer than a day and know it was going to be biased as it would start in my circle and would work it’s way out, so i wanted to do a longer poll when i had the energy to handle a week long poll like that. (i’m assuming when i post this, as i’m pre making it, i’ll be in recovery from my nose surgery since i’ll be stuck at home a week so i’ll have more time to monitor and look at the tags)

so nows the time, but i’m going to addendum the question a bit:

*some extra things that came up on the original poll i didn’t elaborate on fully that i want to make clear:

- you don’t get a say in what type of swiftie you get. assume that you’re going to be spending the evening with someone who massively loves her and her music and wants to discuss it. they’ll talk about songs, their favorite lines and meanings, symbolism behind the reputation album, etc.

- YOU MUST TALK ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT. even if it’s the anti-swiftie you must talk about her. i understand the sentiment people made on her not coming up, and that’s valid, but that’s not the question i’m asking. YOU HAVE TO SPEND THE EVENING WITH SOMEONE WHOS GOING TO TALK ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT NONSTOP, WILL IT BE THE LOVER OR HATER?

- im just trying to gather a general consensus on this and want to get data from a lot of people which means this is going to end up on people’s blogs who probably hate swifties and are annoyed by them. that’s okay as that’s the point of my question. but if you’re going to go off in the tags about how much you hate her or hate swifties and be an asshole about it im blocking you. you can just simple say “i hate her/i hate swifties” and don’t need to elaborate. you don’t need to sit in the tags going off on how much you hate her and trying to “defend” yourself from swifties. i just want an answer to the question.

- ALSO, this is not an open poll to go harass anyone in general. if you are a swiftie and see an hater in the tags and wanna fight DON’T FUCKING DO IT. just block and go read/watch your favorite media and think of blorbos kissing or whatever, but DO NOT SEND HATE OR HARASS ANYONE.

the hypothesis im trying to prove is that people in general would much rather spend an evening with someone that is going to talk about something they love all night vs someone who will spend the evening talking about something they hate. i want to gather as much data as possible to get a good consensus and if you go and be an asshole to someone because of their tags on this poll, either side of the swiftie to anti-swiftie spectrum, your disproving the point. if you see tags you don’t like just simply block and carry on. understand? k good.

- in general this is not meant to be a very serious or heavy question. it’s meant to just let me pick people’s brains and see what they’d want to do. i just want to get my results and go. just vote, drop your opinion in the tags, and go.

- also, this last part is silly and not at all related to my data, but since i’m forcing you on a dinner date i’ll at least let you pick the restaurant and food you have. so if you could also say what restaurant/food choice you’d want and what you’d want to order i’d love to hear it. sky’s the limit here. go nutz or even very specific on what you’d want to eat. i am trying to learn to cook and don’t know a lot of recipes or different food types, so i’m hoping this will give me a bigger idea of what food is out there to make. (this question is not meant to be a way to stick it to anyone or for you to go “i’ll go to a shitty ass restaurant and take a swiftie/anti-swiftie and make them eat garbage 🤪”, it’s just a fun question to give people something positive to add to the poll if they want. AGAIN IF YOUR GOING TO BE AN ASSHOLE ILL BLOCK YOU.)

- i’m going to be annoying and ask that you reblog for a wider sample size and such, if you don’t want to that’s fine, but i’m going to be polite and ask you nicely.

that should be everything, thank you for reading my long ass list and voting in this poll. i hope you have a good day and such.

#kelly babels #polls #taylor swift

477 notes · View notes

checkeredflagggs · 5 months ago

Text

The Story of Us: Chapter 2

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: logan and you have been keeping a secret from everyone but it might be time for it to come out

a/n: while I do my best on most of my works to be race neutral, this one is very very very self indulgent 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n2: this is part 2 of 4/5, which will be released when they’re finished and I’m using pretty much everything from Taylor Swift

a/n4: Also timelines? Never heard of them. This is set in 2024 but I’ve moved Miami to before Australia

a/n5: happy birthday Logan! The charles post is next but I wanted to get this out for Logan’s birthday!

a/n6: justice for debut and speak now

Part 1

y/n_gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 12,383,483 others

y/n_gossip: breaking! Coming from unknown sources are apparently leaked photos from y/n’s private phone.

My questions are how was she hacked and who is the guy!

view all comments

user1: what a gross invasion of privacy!

↳user2: seriously! Celebrities are just people too and they don’t need people nosing into their business

↳user1: well said!

user3: mother? has? a? boyfriend?????

↳user4: what! who! when! how! WHAT???

↳user5: this is not what i expected to see when i woke up…

↳user3: right??? Its like looking both ways crossing the streets and getting shit on by a bird…

↳user4: …what???

user6: please do NOT tell me that crazy person is right?? I don’t think I could take it if they were right and it’s Logan Sargeant

↳user53: I think you might have to get used to idea that they were right

↳user19: ok that’s like really rude but I’m gonna ignore it because you’re agreeing with me

↳user7: ok but NO WHERE does it imply that this guy is Logan

↳user8: also where is it said that these photos are of y/n?? She’s been spending a lot of time with yoursister and yourbff

↳user7: more of a long shot but still possible!

↳user19: I’m gonna hold it over your heads for the rest of forever

↳user53: alright let’s roll it back now. Maybe wait to gloat until you’ve actually been proven correct?

↳user19:…fine

Private Messages, Logan and Y/N

f1gossip

liked by not_logan, not_oscar, user, user and 583,902 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, pierregasly, alex_albon, landonorris, georgerussell63

f1gossip: within minutes of the leak of y/n’s photos, several drivers had posted a collection of photos to their stories. Looking closely at them, the range of photos could be taken to mean that they were the guy in the photos with y/n (who people are speculating is her unrevealed boyfriend)

view all comments

user9: ummmm…this is not it guys 😂

user10: I didn’t think silly season was going to include drivers strongly implying they’re cheating on their girlfriends

↳user11: oh my god I didn’t even think of that

↳user12: just wait — give it a few days and the wags will be posting similar photos 😂😂

user13: the desperation radiating from these pics is incredible

↳user14: so is the second hand embarrassment

↳user15: so true. I’m cringing for them jesus

not_oscar: what??

↳not_logan: no

↳not_oscar: what the fuck is this

↳not_oscar: ew

↳not_lilyz: 🤣🤣

↳not_lilyz: ok but i need answers

↳not_oscar: oh ill get some answers alright

user16: ok but tagging them???

↳user17: so bold. I don’t think I could live after it

↳user18: it’s not even about me and I want to crawl under a rock and die

↳user17: big mood

Private Messages, The Grid (Unserious)

Private Messages, Logan and Y/N

williamsracing

liked by user, not_y/n, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 2,234,123 others

tagged: alex_albon, logansargeant

williamsracing: watch as our drivers take on the Duracell RC Challenge and answer fan questions! Full episode out now

view all comments

user20: this is so cute!

↳user21: I know! It’s always so fun to see Logan and Alex clearly enjoy themselves

↳user22: it’s so good to see them smiling!

user23: ok but those questions???

↳user24: forget all the questions — I want to tattoo Logan’s look of mischief when he said cardio was his favorite form of workout

↳user23: oh my god I thought was just me who saw that!

↳user19: well if my girlfriend was y/n, cardio would also be my favorite workout

↳user53: I’m judging you

↳user19: but are you disagreeing with me?

↳user53:…no

↳user19: ha!

↳user23: …are you…flirting…on my comment thread????

↳user19: WHAT? NO. ABSOLUTELY NKT

↳user53: hahaha I don’t now what yours talking about

logansargeant: best media day so far!

↳alex_albon: I don’t know how you did it but I’m sure you were cheating

↳logansargeant: haha 😆 you can’t prove anything!

not_oscar: so we’re being freaks on main now?

↳not_logan: and what of it?

↳not_y/n: yeah don’t kink shame us oscie

↳not_oscar: oh i'm definitely doing more than that

↳not_lilyz: oh like you haven’t done anything freaky too

↳not_logan: ha!

↳not_y/n: thank you lily

↳not_oscar: really love?

↳not_lilyz: 🤭🤭

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri, pierregasly, and 15,273,273 others

tagged: y/n, y/n_nation

f1: …Ready For It? Y/N has arrived ahead of the Miami GP where she will be singing the national anthem to kickstart the day!

view all comments

user25: classy!

↳user26: she always is!

y/n: it’s an honor to have been asked! And the warm welcome from everyone and their teams have really made the day something special! 🩵

↳logansargeant: oh everyone has been very excited to have you in the paddock!

↳oscarpiastri: very excited indeed

↳charles_leclerc: Bienvenue au Grand Prix ! Vous êtes en effet un spectacle très apprécié à voir! “Welcome to the Grand Prix! You are indeed a very very welcome sight to see!”

↳pierregasly: C'est toujours un honneur d'avoir une jolie jolie fille qui vous attend! “It’s always an honor to have a pretty pretty girl waiting for you!”

↳user27:…I thought the desperation was over…

user28: god what a whore…useless too. Made it too hard to get tickets. Too many silly stupid little girls who don’t know anything about the sport got all the tickets just to see her

↳alex_albon: wow I didn’t know mouths could spew such shit

↳maxverstappen1: I wouldn’t worry about not being able to get a ticket 👍🏻 you’ve been banned!

↳landonorris: not only by the individual teams but by the sport as a whole

↳f1: well said drivers! user28 that is not the attitude that we support here in f1! We welcome (nearly) everyone to the Grand Prix’s whether they’re here to watch the race or to watch y/n!

↳user29:…shut down!

user30: my favorite part of today so far has been how stupid the drivers turned when y/n got close to them!

↳user31: there was absolutely no thoughts in the heads of the Ferrari men

↳user32: (or their girlfriends let’s be real)

user33: I wish someone had gotten close enough to the alpine garage…

↳user34: god I know! The Kelsey brothers were there and based on their faces whatever Pierre was saying was probably outrageous af

↳user35: well he’s publicly called himself a tripod so we know he has no shame

user36: Oscar’s look of disgust whenever Lando and Alex opened their mouths tho…

↳user37: oh he was going through it today

↳user19: Love how logan was just laughing in the background though

↳user53: well if you’re right, they’ve been together for years so he’s probably pretty secure in their relationship…

↳user19: if?!??

↳user53: THERES STILL NO PROOF

williamsracing

liked by not_y/n, georgerussell63, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 1,334,274 others

tagged: logansargeant

williamsracing: Logan podium! I repeat!!! LOGAN PODIUM

view all comments

user38: I never thought I’d see the day

↳user39: well damn that’s kinda really rude

↳user38: be so for real right now did you ever think Williams would podium? Let alone Logan??

not_y/n: yeah you’re gonna get the best head of your life tonight babe

↳not_logan: 🥵🥵🥵🤩🤩🤩

↳not_oscar: please for the love of everything keep that shit to yourselves

↳not_y/n: just say you’re jealous and move on Aussie boy

↳not_oscar: why am I friends with you again

↳not_logan: we really didn’t give you a choice

↳not_y/n: we grew on you eventually!

↳not_oscar: like mold

↳not_logan: boo!!

↳not_y/n: boo!!!

oscarpiastri: congrats Logan!

↳logansargeant: thanks man!

alex_albon: congratulations! Show them how it’s done!

↳logansargeant: you know it! But it’s your turn next!

↳alex_albon: 🙌🏼🙌🏼

jv.f1: congratulations

↳user40: what in the world is with this dry ass congrats???

↳logansargeant: thank you!

georgerussell63: Many congratulations Logan! It was great to finally share a podium with you

↳logansargeant: thank you George! Hopefully the first of many!

logansargeant

liked by not_y/n, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 778,445 others

tagged: williamsracing

logansargeant: P3 BABY! WE DID IT! THANK YOU EVERYONEEEEEEEE 🩵🩵🩵

view all comments

user41: CONGRATS LOGAN

↳user42: THATS OUR AMERICAN BOY

y/n: Congratulations Logan! You do Florida and Miami proud

↳logansargeant: thanks y/n! You must be my lucky charm though

↳y/n: Oh no that was all you!

↳user19: 🫵☝🏻🫵🫵🫵🫵☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻

↳user19: THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!!

nicolepiastri: congrats Logan!

↳logansargeant: thanks Mom Piastri

↳oscarpiastri: and what of your actual son?

↳nicolepiastri: you’d like a congratulations for 6th?

↳oscarpiastri: well yes?!

↳nicolepiastri: hmmmm whatever you want sweetie. Congratulations on 6th

↳user43: I live for Nicole dragging Oscar

user44: such a great drive today Logan! Show ‘em what Americans can do!

not_y/n: possibility of you sneaking away before media to meet me?

↳not_logan: not likely

↳not_y/n: damn. Well just now I’ve made it back to our place and I’ve found a way to keep myself busy 😉🥵

↳not_logan: you can’t do this to me. Not right before I have to talk to Jensen and Nico

↳not_y/n: 🤭🤭🤭

↳not_oscar: or never. You can do this never

jensonbutton: congrats kid!

↳logansargeant: thanks jenson!

Private Messages

y/n_nation

liked by user, sabrinacarpenter, georgerussell63, zendaya, oscarpiastri, and 19,245,927 others

y/n_nation: Our bags are packed and the flights are here! Welcome to the Eras Tour!

view all comments

zendaya: what a wonderful night 🖤

↳tomholland2013: thanks for dragging me!

↳zendaya: you begged me to go?

alexandrasaintmleux: what a stunning show! Best night of my life!

↳charles_leclerc: what an amazing show y/n! Love your piano work!

↳user48: flirting with another woman right underneath your girlfriends comment??

oscarpiastri: fantastic time!

↳hattiepiastri: THANK YOH OSCSR!

↳not_y/n: glad you enjoyed yourself!

↳hattiepiastri: thank you for the tickets and the sweaters and the records!!

↳not_y/n: anything for my favorite Piastri!

↳oscarpiastri: you’re welcome 😑

alex_albon: by far the best concert I’ve been to!

↳lilymhe: thanks for taking me baby!

↳alex_albon: of course!

↳lilymhe: and thanks y/n for such a magical night 😘

↳user49: what’s with the weird flirting? What’s happening right now???

carmenmmundt: ¡Qué noche tan magnífica! ¡Gracias y/n! What a magnificent night! Thank you y/n!

↳georgerussell63: I loved every moment of it y/n!

↳user50: I see the desperation has found this post as well 😂😂

↳user51: so has the second hand embarrassment 🫣🫣

user52: I can’t feel my face or my feet but oh my god what a magical night

↳user54: absolutely worth it!

↳user52: definitely gonna be the concert of the year!!

Bluesky

Part 3

474 notes · View notes

dumbseee · 2 years ago

Text

stalker. pt.5.

masterlist.

charles leclerc x reader. / carlos sainz jr x reader.

fc: lalisa manoban.

note: listen to don’t blame me by taylor swift for this :)

trouble in paradise?

it seems like y/n l/n isn’t very faithful to her new boyfriend, carlos sainz if we believe his teammate charles leclerc who is also y/n’s ex boyfriend, #messy 👀. in case you lived under a rock, y/n and charles broke up a few months ago and only a month later she started dating sainz. these two looked in love until charles posted some weird insta stories hinting at y/n’s possible infidelity. the internet has been divided ever since that story with either #teamy/n or #teamcharles.

one thing for sure, y/n lost the support she had when she broke up with charles. we tried to get in touch with sainz but his team politely declined our calls, as for charles he only commented that his story was self explanatory and he didn’t need to add anything else. y/n on the other hand disappeared from social media since her comments sections were being jeopardised by haters.

and you, who’s team are you on?

landonorris just posted a story!

tagged: @.y/n @.francisca.cgomes

carlos put down his phone and got out his car, he was just in front of charles’s house and he came ready to put an end to his behaviour. he had charles’s address since they were teammates and once friends. the spaniard knocked multiple times, thinking about what he was going to do once charles opened the door, he rehearsed his lines a thousand times because he was scared that anger would take over once charles was in front of him. he just wanted to ask one question: why? why would he do that to you, when all he did during your relationship was hurting you over and over again.

"carlos. i knew i’d see you soon. how are you? my friend?" charles opened the door with a big smile which took carlos off guard but angered him even more. "your friend? do you even know the meaning of that word?" he answered through gritted teeth, taking a step inside charles’s apartment. "oh because you do? mister steal your girl?" charles’s attitude made carlos want to strangle him on the spot. "you really want to play that game? you cheated on her, coño how dare you act like you’re the victim here, hm?" carlos slightly pushed charles which made him take a step back.

"don’t fucking touch me." carlos knew that if he let his feelings get the best of him, this could end very badly, and he couldn’t do this to you. "you say that you still love her, that cheating on her was a mistake, but what about what you’re doing right now? everyone think that she cheated on me with you! that’s not love charles, it’s obsession." carlos added, trying to resonate the monegasque. "you don’t understand the bond we have, sainz. she’s just messing with you to get to me." charles smiled. "leave her alone, leclerc. don’t make me repeat myself." the monegasque took a step towards his teammate and grabbed him by his collar. "or what, sainz? what are you going to do, hm? because i’m never going to stop, y/n is mine and mine only." the spaniard couldn’t recognise the man in front of him, the one he once called his ‘hermanito’, the one he loved to piss off during training and the one he loved to film challenges for the fans. the man in front of him wasn’t the charles he knew. that’s why carlos didn’t feel bad for what he was about to do.

"i came here to see if i could resonate you, it was the last chance i was going to give you. but you made me realise that the charles i knew was long gone. what you’re feeling right now is not love, i’m not saying that you never loved y/n, it’s not my place to judge that, but right now you’re nothing but a stalker, charles." carlos pushed charles off him and rearranged his collar. "what i’m feeling for y/n is true love because i know that once i’ll realise that she’s happier without me, i’ll leave her alone immediately, because her happiness is more important than mine." and with that, carlos left a speechless charles behind.

later that night, carlos came back to your shared apartment, he found you asleep on the couch while your favorite tv show was playing. he smiled and took off his shoes and jacket before slowly crouching next to you. he brushed the strands of hair in front of your face and kissed your forehead. that made you open your eyes, and what you saw in front of you made you think you were dreaming. "carlos?" you asked, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "yes, cariño, i’m home." you bit your lip and hugged him tightly while he was stroking your hair. "i’m so sorry for making you cry, i never once doubted you."

y/n just posted a story!

taglist: @ferrariloverr @incoherenciass @avengersheart @roseseraj @styles-sunflower @thievin-stealing @hiraethrhapsody @ariagonzalezsstuff @vellicora @buckybarnessweetheart @leclercloml @ru-kru @slytherheign @95lomty

1K notes · View notes

whisperedmeg · 6 days ago

Text

soft animal part ii: strange grace

pairing: spencer reid x fem!nurse!reader

summary: when spencer, fresh out of prison, calls, she comes — and in the quiet of his apartment, something shifts. a kiss, a night, a beginning.

a/n: eeeep soft animal part 2! don’t worry prison arc is already over, our boy is freeeee and I couldn’t torture reader any longer by keeping him in there. no use of y/n this time I think. again, i am very very brand new to posting fics on tumblr (+ writing for criminal minds in general) so I appreciate any and all interactions with this fic and any advice/feedback in my asks is always welcome! please reblog if you enjoy <3 part 3 will be out this weekend. it’s already mostly drafted but needs some heavy edits (I’ve been writing this series for weeks now and am just now getting the courage to start posting it so I’ll prob post the first 6ish chapters relatively quickly before i need to slow down and go back to writing)

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, smut if you squint

w/c: 3.1k

tags/warnings: post-s12 prison arc, afab reader goes by she/her pronouns, kinda emotional bc Spencer like JUST got out of prison, pretending the whole plot point of diana reid living with spencer isn’t a thing for the sake of this, making out, things get a lil heated but no true smut, still NSFW MDNI, sexual tension, horny spencer, horny reader, uh oh boner alert, vaguely implied intimacy issues/prison trauma, alexa play fresh out the slammer by taylor swift

series masterlist

A week passed since Spencer’s last visit without so much as a sighting of him. I thought about calling in a favor with one of the COs, asking about him under the guise of needing a follow-up exam. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to risk any suspicion.

When my phone buzzed that night, I almost didn’t answer.

Unknown number.

Probably spam, or a wrong number. Normally I ignored those sorts of calls without second thought, but something inside my brain told me to answer anyway.

“Hello?”

There was a pause on the other end — but it wasn’t dead air. Then, a voice:

“It’s me. It’s…it’s Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

I froze. My heart kicked so hard I had to press a hand to my chest. I was silent for so long that Spencer thought I’d hung up. “You there?”

“Y-yeah, I— Are you okay?” I finally replied after the shock wore off. It came out like a reflex. Not “where are you” or “how did you get out,” but rather a desperate need to know he was alright.

“I think so,” he said, and there was a quiet steadiness to it that hadn’t been there the last time I saw him. “I’m out.”

My fingers curled tighter around the phone. “Out,” I echoed, trying to make the word feel real. “You mean…?”

“I got released,” he said. “A few days ago. My team caught the actual killer.”

“And now?” I asked softly.

“Now… I’m home. In my apartment. It doesn’t feel like mine again yet, but it’s quiet. It’s… better.”

There was something about the way he said home that made my throat tighten. “Why are you calling me?” I asked, voice small.

He let out a breath, almost a laugh. “Because when it got quiet, and I finally had a choice… I wanted to hear your voice.”

I didn’t reply yet. I couldn’t.

“I thought about you,” he added, softer now. “More than I probably should’ve. But I think that’s what got me through the worst of it.”

I closed my eyes, and the line was quiet for a beat. “I kept thinking about your hands,” he said. “The way you touched me like you didn’t want to stop, even though you had to. You were scared someone would notice.”

I swallowed hard.

“But I noticed. Every time,” he added.

I swallowed again, fingers curling into the blanket. “That wasn’t exactly medical protocol.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s why it mattered.”

Something about the way he said it made it impossible to breathe for a second. Silence passed between us again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“I don’t know what this is,” he said. “Or if it’s anything at all. But I know I want to see you again, if you’re open to it.”

I pressed the phone tighter to my ear, as if I could get closer. I let out a breath, words lodged in my throat.

“Will you come here?” he asked softly after a long stretch of silence.

I blinked, then sat up straighter. My answer came out quiet, but certain.

“Yes.”

—

After we hung up, Spencer swiftly texted me his address. My eyes bulged out of my head when I read it — 5 blocks from my apartment. He lives five blocks away from me. All this time, before he got locked up, he was in my neighborhood and we never once crossed paths. Or maybe we did, and we just didn’t know it. Something about our proximity made my heart flutter. Maybe, in a better, more fair universe where he never saw the inside of Millburn’s walls, we still would have found each other.

I changed quickly — nothing dramatic, just a clean t-shirt, jeans that didn’t look like I’d slept in them, and a light jacket. I brushed my hair, threw on chapstick, and stood frozen in front of the mirror for a full minute before grabbing my keys.

The streets were mostly empty this late, and I barely noticed the walk. My heart kept beating faster the closer I got — half panic, half adrenaline. When I reached his building, I hesitated with my finger over the buzzer.

The elevator ride took too long. Every second felt like a held breath. I knocked softly on the door of Apartment 23 before I lost my nerve, and while I waited, I realized I hadn’t at all prepared for what would happen next. I hadn’t thought about what I’d do when the door opened — would I wave? Say hello? Shake his hand like we were meeting for the first time, like we weren’t already tangled up in something we’d never named? Should we hug?

The lock clicked, and the door creaked open. And there he was.

Not wearing Millburn’s scratchy polyester uniform. Not under flickering fluorescent lights. Not watched, not guarded, not contained.

Just Spencer, right in front of me.

His curls were tamer. His clothes were soft and civilian. His eyes were the same.

For a second, we just looked at each other. I felt myself blinking too fast, my chest too tight. He was here. He was okay. And for the first time, I got to see him where he belonged.

“Hey,” I said, but it came out more like a breath than a word.

He smiled — not the small, shy one he’d given me in the infirmary. This smile was big and bright and laced with relief and genuine joy. “Hi.”

Hi. One word, and that was enough to pull me in. I stepped towards him and inside his apartment without giving it another thought. His hand found my waist like it had been there before, and the distance between us disappeared. I buried my face against his chest, the top of my head tucked under his chin, and I fought back tears I hadn’t been expecting.

He smelled clean. Like laundry and something sharp, like soap or aftershave. He felt warm. Solid. Human.

Eventually, he pulled back just far enough to look at me. “You didn’t know I was out.”

I shook my head. “Not until you called.”

He nodded. “Good. I wanted to tell you myself.”

The words sat heavy in my chest — because he’d thought about that. Because I mattered to him enough for it to be a conscious decision.

His apartment was quiet — just soft lamplight, books lining the shelves, half a tea kettle on the stove. Clean, but lived in. Walls painted green and much nicer furniture than I’d ever owned. Somehow both exactly what I expected and not at all. I tried not to stare.

“Tea?” he offered.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure I’d be able to taste it. My nerves had hit a high, buzzing pitch — everything inside me tuned to this strange frequency of disbelief.

He moved around his kitchen like he’d only been gone a day, not months. I watched him from the edge of the couch, unsure if I should sit. I wanted to ask so many things — about his release, about how he was doing, about how it felt to be here — but none of them made it to my mouth.

“You’re really here,” I said instead.

He set the mugs down on the coffee table and sat beside me — not too close, but not too far. Close enough that if I shifted just a little, my thigh would probably brush his.

“I kept thinking about this,” he said softly. “Not just getting out — this. You. Sitting here. In my apartment.”

I swallowed, hard. “I’ve thought about it too.”

He didn’t touch me, not right away. But the space between us thinned, almost vibrated with possibility. Everything that had to stay hidden before — all the lingering glances, the touches passed off as clinical, the things neither of us could say aloud — it was still here. And now, there was nothing stopping it, except ourselves.

He looked at me like he wasn’t sure if this was real — like I might vanish. I wanted to tell him I felt the same, but the words lodged in my throat again.

The quiet between us wasn’t awkward, but it was charged. Heavy. The kind of quiet where you hear your own pulse. Where the air feels like it could crack open if you moved too quickly.

He was sitting so still — hands clasped in his lap, shoulders hunched like he was still trying to make himself a little smaller. But his eyes kept flicking to mine, then away, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get there. Like he was waiting for permission to want something again.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I came here tonight. Who I’d find.” I looked down at my hands, fingers twisted together in my lap. “But it’s still you.”

He exhaled through his nose, barely a sound, but I felt it. The shift in the room. The relief, the ache, all tangled up in that one breath. I turned toward him, slowly, my knee brushing his. “You’re different out here than in there, obviously,” I added. “But you’re still you.”

He looked at me then, and whatever guard he’d been holding up cracked, just a little. I could see the want there, deep and quiet and scared out of its mind.

I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t have a plan. But I leaned in, not all the way — just enough that the space between us could disappear if he wanted it to. Close enough to feel the warmth of him, the rise and fall of his breath.

His hand lifted — hesitant, like he was reaching out in the dark. His fingers found my cheek and hovered for a moment before they touched my skin. Light, barely-there pressure.

“I don’t know how we’re going to navigate this,” I said softly. “But I know I want it, Spencer. I want to try.”

His brow furrowed, and for a second he looked like he might cry. He let out the breath he seemed to have been holding since I walked in, and nodded. “Me too.”

And then, there was that smile — the one I hadn’t really let myself hope for. The real one I’d only ever seen in flashes before now. It bloomed slowly, like it surprised even him.

“Come here,” he whispered.

My breath caught, and I climbed into his lap like I’d done it a hundred times before. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His hand was still on my cheek, steady, anchoring me there. He leaned in slowly, as if he was giving me time to change my mind — like he didn’t quite believe I wouldn’t. His eyes flicked to my mouth, then back to my eyes.

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since our first game of chess in the infirmary,” he murmured, his voice low and raw and gravelly. His lips brushed mine — just barely — and it felt like a question and a promise in the same breath.

And when he finally kissed me, it wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t cautious or unsure. It was full of months of tension and weight and wondering. It was his hands cupping the back of my neck, his mouth finding mine with a hunger he hadn’t let himself feel until right now. It was soft and deep and breathtaking, like he was relearning what it felt like to touch and be touched with care.

His hand slid from my cheek into my hair, fingers threading slowly, anchoring me there. Mine curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him just a little closer. And when I tilted my head, opened my mouth, let him take more — he did. He tasted like peppermint and tea and something warm I couldn’t quite name.

There was nothing clinical about this touch. No need for excuses now.

The kiss broke a few minutes later, only because we needed air. He pulled back half an inch, eyes darting between mine like he was afraid to wake up.

I leaned back into him, slower this time. His arms circled my waist as I shifted to straddle him, and the new position knocked a soft exhale out of him. My hands ran through his hair — I’d wanted to do that for too long — and when I tugged gently at the ends, he groaned low in his throat.

Something about that sound unraveled me.

“I wanted this so much,” I whispered, mouth brushing his jaw.

“I know.” His hands ran up my back, warm under my shirt. “Me too.”

We stayed like that for a while — kissing, touching, moving in slow, molten inches like we had all the time in the world. His hands weren’t greedy, but they were purposeful. Mapping. Memorizing. Every time he touched a new patch of skin, I felt the zap of it deep in my spine.

And god — when he looked at me like that? Like I was something he couldn’t believe he actually got to have? That made everything else disappear.

I could’ve gone further. Would’ve. Wanted to. But I felt the subtle way his breath caught, the firm tension in his shoulders. Something in him still hadn’t exhaled. He still hadn’t let go of everything he’d been carrying since his arrest, so I slowed us down. Kissed him softer. Ground my hips against his just once, slow and full — and when he gasped into my mouth, I let that be enough.

When we pulled apart, I curled into his chest, and he held me like he didn’t want to let go.

“Sleep here,” he murmured into my hair. “If you want.”

I lifted my head, giving him a soft smile. “I do.” I pressed my lips to the side of his neck, just once.

He shifted, and I felt it — the way his body responded to mine, hard and undeniable against my thigh. He froze for a second.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, eyes wide and a little mortified. “Sorry.”

I laughed before I could help it, fingers brushing through the curls at the back of his neck. “I felt it earlier, Spencer. It’s okay.”

He let out a soft, relieved, still-embarrassed laugh, forehead pressed to mine. “You make it hard to think straight.”

I kissed him again, slower this time. “Good.”

Eventually, reluctantly, he pulled back enough to let me get up. He walked me to his bedroom and grabbed me something to sleep in, handing me a worn, soft t-shirt from his drawer with the words FBI Academy sprawled across the front in faded screen print.

I ducked into the bathroom and peeled off my clothes slowly, my skin still sizzling everywhere he had touched. My mind replayed every breath, memorizing the way he looked at me like he couldn’t believe I even existed. When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-swollen, I didn’t fully recognize the woman staring back.

I slipped the shirt over my head — no bra underneath, just panties — and pulled it down til it hit mid-thigh. I padded back into the room, finding Spencer in bed, arms propped behind his head, waiting for me. He had changed into a t-shirt and blue plaid pajama pants.

When I slid under the covers beside him, it didn’t feel awkward. It didn’t even feel new. He reached for me like it was instinct — like he’d been dreaming of pulling someone into him for so long that his body already knew the way. Like he’d been dreaming of me. I settled against him, bending my leg so my thigh stretched across his hips, my head tucked under his chin. His arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me tight, and his other hand rested low on my back, under the hem of the shirt, his long fingers warm against my bare skin.

I could feel him again — hard between us, barely restrained. But he didn’t move. Neither did I. The air between us was thick with all the things we hadn’t said yet. Everything I’d thought about on those nights between his visits. Everything I felt when I filled out that report, trying to get him somewhere safer. Every phantom brush of our hands, every minute stolen under the fluorescent lights of the infirmary.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Swallowed.

“You okay?” I whispered.

A nod, then, “Yeah. I just…” He let out a slow breath. “This doesn’t really feel real.” He released a dry, disbelieving chuckle.

I felt that too — the surreal ache of being so close after spending so long holding back. I imagined it must be a thousand times more intense for him, feeling all of this and readjusting to freedom all at once.

I reached for his hand and laced my fingers through his. “It is,” I whispered.

My leg stayed bent over his front. His hand didn’t leave my waist. His cock throbbed gently between us, pressing into the soft flesh of my thigh, and neither of us pretended we didn’t feel it.

We lay there for a long time like that — pressed together, aching, breathing each other in.

Eventually, he shifted enough to pull me in tighter. His leg hooked around mine, his lips brushing my temple again.

“I feel like this is a dream,” he whispered. “I know it isn’t, obviously. And even if it was, I don’t subscribe to the pseudoscience of dream analysis. But still.”

I smiled against his throat. “You’re not dreaming, Spencer.”

“I might be,” he laughed.

I tilted my head and kissed him again, soft and slow and full of promise. “Then wake up with me,” I murmured.

He exhaled, long and warm. “I will.”

And when I finally closed my eyes, my whole body buzzed with the ache of holding back.

ᝰ.ᐟ

part iii.

99 notes · View notes