#scrutiny-proof

[ilynpilled]

Dany killing slave traders is one of the modt based things I have ever seen

agreed but never talking about this again bc my anons have been insufferable since 😭

[purpleisnotacolor]

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[borom1r]

I have thoughts abt Beanix but they are NOT coherent ooooargh!!!! HIM!!!!!!!

[dewvorce-flowers]

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[bogleech]

The fact that plastic water bottles already contain millions of nanoplastics (even smaller, less detectable than microplastics) that have been getting into people's bloodstreams and tissues all along really should not have been surprising, but detecting them at all required a level of scrutiny and advanced microscopy equipment that just wasn't funded until very very recently. I wonder if it'll be the final push the general public really needs to fight back against overuse of plastic and demand better. I mean this is conclusive proof people are putting it straight into their bodies, it's not all just cycling back up through the food chain in seafood like the average person hears.

[statisticalcats2]

I'm really.... I'm really at the point where I can't see being against the concept of a state of Jewish self-determination as a gentile as not stemming from antisemitism. Jewish people were kicked out of their homeland and then spent hundreds and hundreds of years as second-class citizens or worse in other countries, rarely if ever legally full citizens, constantly getting chased out or expelled over and over again as governments and gentile populations changed their mind about letting them in their country.

How can you justify not wanting a population like this to have a country of their own where they don't have to worry about the government or population waking up one day and deciding "it's time to kick the Jews out (again)"? Hundreds and hundreds of years of gentile political debates over "are Jews citizens?" where the answer keeps being "no, not really."

"But in an ideal world, things wouldn't be like that and they'd be able to live safely wherever they want!"

Yeah, well we're sure as fuck not living in that ideal world and a lot of you saying stuff like this are doing jack shit to try and make that ideal "safe for Jews" world either so this rings extremely hollow.

And the crazy thing is I've seen people over the years act like they're so understanding and supportive of concepts like Black Americans creating their own self-determined state and with the treatment of the base concept of Israel I'm saying a bunch of those people are either lying completely or (maybe worse) were genuine but specifically don't believe in Jews having rights.

And that's how it always ends up. Nothing extends to Jews. You all understand and sympathize with horrible oppression leading to extremist elements in oppressed groups but you never believe that about Jews. Extremist Jewish elements aren't a result of hundreds and hundreds of years worth of violent oppression, they're proof of the degeneracy of Jews (yes that wording is super fucking intentional), proof that we can't let them have rights, that we can't let them have one single place where they have any genuine power, proof that they need gentile oversight, that they want to conquer and rule the world, that they were the secret super oppressors the whole time.

Are there problems with Israel? Hell yes, welcome to the whole fucking world. No state's hands are clean. And the Jewish population of Israel has hundreds and hundreds of years of trauma and oppression coloring the various political atmospheres in it. If you refuse to acknowledge that while acknowledging it for every other type of historically oppressed group other than Jews, you're antisemitic. This intense scrutiny of Israel not given to any other country is antisemitic. This intense scrutiny of Jews not given to any other oppressed group is antisemitic. This historical revisionism where Jews were happy, well-treated second-class citizens who suddenly turned ungrateful towards their benevolent gentile rulers is antisemitic.

Shame on every single one of you.

[pucksandpower]

Hi!! I always see fics of Charles being the one who isn’t believed he’s in a relationship (and i eat it all up cause it’s such a fun trope 😌) but what if it’s the reader’s turn. Like she’s a normal university student who always talks about her boyfriend but her friends and her fellow students just don’t believe her so Charles decides to surprise her and just be the proof. Thanks in advance!!

Daydream

Charles Leclerc x engineering student!Reader

Summary: You are living the dream … except no one actually believes that your boyfriend is really your boyfriend

You walk into class after the winter break with a sun-kissed glow and a new watch on your wrist.

Your friend Matteo notices it immediately and lets out a low whistle.

“Wow, that has to be the most realistic looking fake I’ve ever seen! Where did you get it?” He asks with a grin.

You roll your eyes but smile back. “It’s not a fake. Charles gave it to me for Christmas.”

Your friends barely give you a chance to get the last word out before they burst out laughing. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment and annoyance.

“Oh sure, I’m certain that your very real boyfriend, Charles Leclerc the Formula 1 driver, just happened to give you a €340,000 Richard Mille for Christmas,” your other friend Livia jokes.

“Come on guys, I’m serious! Charles and I have been dating for months now. We met when I was interning with Ferrari last year,” you insist.

But your friends just keep chuckling and shaking their heads in disbelief.

“If you were really dating an F1 driver, you would be posting cute couple-y pics all over Instagram. There’s no way anyone in that position could resist showing off a little,” Matteo argues.

You let out an exasperated sigh. You and Charles agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye for now to avoid media scrutiny. But your friends just see this as further proof that you’re making it all up.

“Maybe he’s embarrassed to be seen with an engineering student,” Livia quips.

That stings a bit, even though you know she doesn’t mean for it to.

You slump down in your chair, absentmindedly fiddling with the exquisite watch on your wrist. You hadn’t realized it was worth so much when Charles gave it to you. The way his eyes lit up when you unwrapped it on Christmas morning was priceless. He was so excited to spoil you in any way he could. And now your friends think it’s just a cheap fake.

Charles is always doing ridiculously romantic things like flying you out on a private jet just so you can spend any free weekends together and sending you bouquets of roses bigger than you are. But no one believes that he’s really your boyfriend. To them, it’s all just part of an elaborate scheme you’ve concocted.

You met Charles when you were one of ten engineering graduate students selected for a prestigious internship with Scuderia Ferrari. You spent six months working in Maranello, learning from some of motorsport’s brightest minds.

Charles took an interest in you immediately. He would come by your workstation in the aerodynamics lab, peppering you with thoughtful questions about your projects. You would discuss aerodynamic principles and simulations for hours. Even ex-team principal Mattia Binotto said the two of you had a visible “synergy.”

Your internship had since ended but your relationship with Charles continued. You tried to play it cool at first, not wanting to seem overly eager. The day after you went back to study in Milan, he asked you out to dinner. Your first date lasted five hours as you talked endlessly about everything under the sun. You were amazed at how you never ran out of things to discuss.

Over the next few months, you grew closer and closer. Charles would take weekend trips to Milan just to see you, even if it was only for a few hours. He told you that you grounded him and reminded him that there was more to life than racing.

When he asked you to be his girlfriend after inviting you to the Monaco Grand Prix, you were shocked but ecstatic. You knew then that your hectic schedules won’t make it easy but Charles is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He makes your heart race faster than a V12 engine.

You’re shaken from your reminiscing as Matteo waves a hand in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N! Come on, tell us where you got the watch. I want to get one too! It looks so identical to the real thing that we could probably sell it to some suckers on eBay.”

You shake your head with a huff. “Forget it, I’ll tell you all about my ‘fake’ boyfriend another time.”

For now, you’re just counting down the days until you can see Charles again.

No matter what anyone else may think, the two of you know that your love is real.

***

You’re humming along to your playlist as you drive Charles’ Purosangue on the winding roads leading to Milan. The SUV handles like a dream and you’re thoroughly enjoying the feeling of having 715 horsepower under your feet.

Your own trusty Fiat had broken down while visiting Charles in Monaco over the weekend. He insisted you take the Purosangue for the almost four hour drive back rather than waiting for a rental. You tried to decline at first, anxious about driving such an expensive vehicle. But Charles wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I don’t like the idea of you driving all that way alone in some random rental car,” he argued. “This will be much safer and more comfortable for you, mon amour.”

You finally relented, unable to resist when he turned on the charm. Charles gave you a lengthy tutorial of all the car’s features before sending you off with a lengthy kiss and plans for your next visit.

As you pull into the Politecnico di Milano parking lot, you realize just what a scene you’re about to cause. The other students are used to seeing you in your almost ten-year-old Fiat, not a glittering metallic Ferrari.

Sure enough, jaws drop and whispers follow you as you step out of the driver’s seat. Matteo quickly spots you from across the lot and comes jogging over eagerly.

“No way! Is that ... is that a Purosangue?” He gapes. “What are you doing with that?”

“Funny story actually. My car broke down when I was visiting Charles in Monaco last weekend. So he let me borrow this while mine is in the shop.”

Matteo stares at you blankly. “Visiting Charles ... in Monaco?” He throws his head back and laughs. “Your dedication to this bit is honestly impressive, Y/N. But there’s no way that the Charles Leclerc just gave you his Ferrari to drive back to Milan.”

You sigh but you’re determined not to let Matteo get under your skin this time. “Believe what you want. But I had an amazing weekend with my boyfriend before heading back to reality today.”

You head into class, Matteo trailing behind you, still shaking his head in disbelief. Livia immediately jumps up when she sees you.

“Shut up, is that really a Ferrari outside?” She gasps. You nod nonchalantly and take your seat.

“Y/N here is trying to convince us that her boyfriend let her borrow it over the weekend,” Matteo says with an exaggerated eye roll.

“You do realize those start at €390,000 right?” Livia says. “Why on earth would Charles Leclerc of all people let you drive his brand new ultra luxury SUV around?”

You throw your up hands in indignation. “Maybe because he’s my boyfriend and he wanted to help me out! Why is that so hard for you guys to believe?”

But instead of listening to you, other classmates join the conversation and chime in with their own theories about why you suddenly have a Ferrari.

“Maybe she rented it to play a prank on everyone,” suggests Liam.

“No way,” Eva argues. “Maybe she got a big inheritance? Some distant rich relative died and left their fortune to Y/N?”

You groan internally. But before you can respond, your professor walks in and instructs everyone to take their seats.

Through the lecture, you catch people whispering and pointing discreetly at you. By the time class ends, you just want to go home and video chat with Charles about your frustrating day.

As you pack up your things, Livia comes over. “So have you thought about what you’ll tell people when they see you getting out of that Ferrari for the foreseeable future?” She asks.

You blink at her. “The truth? That Charles loaned it to me while my car is in the shop,” you say slowly.

She pats your shoulder. “Come on Y/N, the joke was funny at first but now it’s just getting sad. No one actually believes that you’re dating Charles Leclerc and driving his cars around. Just tell us where you really got it so we can all move on from this weird fantasy life you’ve constructed.”

You stand up abruptly, shoving your notebook in your bag. “It’s not a fantasy,” you spit sharply. “It’s my real life and I’m sorry you can’t accept that. But I don’t need to convince you or anyone else.”

You storm out of the classroom, blinking back frustrated tears.

Pulling out your phone, you text Charles.

I miss you. My friends still think I’m making this all up. I can’t wait to see you in Spain next race.

Charles texts back immediately.

Not as much as I miss you. Don’t worry about what other people think, we know our love is real.

And you looked so hot driving my car 😉

You smile down at your phone, comforted by his words. You may never get your friends and classmates to believe your relationship, but as long as you and Charles know the truth, that’s all that truly matters.

Sliding back behind the wheel of the shiny Ferrari, you feel your stress melt away. Who cares what anyone thinks? You have an amazing boyfriend who trusts you with his most prized possessions. And someday when you and Charles are ready to share your love with the world, everyone’s jaws will drop in disbelief.

For now, you’ll just enjoy the ride.

***

It’s nearly time for summer break and you’re sitting outside with Matteo, Livia, and some other friends, soaking up the sunshine.

“We should all go backpacking around the Greek islands in August!” Suggests Livia. “We could start in Athens, then ferry to Mykonos, Santorini, and end in Crete. Who’s in?”

Everyone voices their enthusiasm for the idea. Then Matteo turns to you. “How about it, Y/N? Take a break from your ‘boyfriend’ and come adventuring with us common folk.”

You take a deep breath and stir your coffee, debating on how to break the news. “That sounds amazing but I already have plans for the summer.”

“Oh yeah? Going home to see your family?” Matteo asks.

You take a deep breath. “Actually, Charles and I are going on a vacation for a few weeks.”

Your friends erupt into laughter.

“A holiday? With Charles Leclerc?” Livia giggles. “Girl, your fantasies are really taking off lately!”

You frown in annoyance. “I’m serious. Charles chartered a yacht and everything. I wish you could see how excited he is for our first big trip together. He’s been planning it for months.”

Livia pats your hand gently. “Sweetie, we know you’re probably feeling financial pressure with school and all. You don’t have to lie about going off on some glamorous vacation. If you can’t afford to join us in Greece, just say so.”

You stare at her in disbelief. “This isn’t about money. Charles and I have been looking forward to this since the start of the season! I’m sorry that our relationship is still so unbelievable to you.”

Your aggravation must show on your face because Matteo holds up his hands appeasingly. “Look, I’m sure whatever you end up doing this summer will be great. But clearly this whole Charles charade has gone too far. It’s time to come clean.”

You stand up abruptly, grabbing your things. “I don’t need to come clean about anything. My relationship with Charles is real, whether you choose to believe it or not.”

You storm off fuming. Your friends’ outright refusal to even entertain the notion that you could be dating Charles is so patronizing and demeaning. Do they really think so little of you?

That night, you vent to Charles over FaceTime about the conversation.

“I just don’t get why it’s so hard for them to believe me! I know we’re not exactly a super conventional couple but it’s like they think I’m delusional,” you sigh.

Charles gives you a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry they’re being like this, mon cœur. But try not to let it upset you too much. We know the truth about our love. That’s what matters.”

You nod, cheered as always by his encouragement. “You’re right. I’m just so excited for our trip! Sailing around the Mediterranean with you all to myself? It’s going to be a dream.”

Charles grins. “Oh I can’t wait either. The yacht has a hot tub on deck under the stars. I want to make sure it’s just as magical as you deserve.”

You spend the rest of the call discussing your vacation itinerary and plans for when your families will join you in Sardinia.

Charles reassures you again not to worry about what others think.

“Soon we’ll share our love with the world. But for now, let’s just focus on us,” he says softly.

By the time you hang up, your frustration has faded. Matteo and Livia may not believe you but in a few short weeks you’ll be cruising the bright blue Mediterranean with the man of your dreams.

The day finally comes for your trip to begin. As Charles helps you aboard the sleek yacht, you forget all about your friends. They don’t know him like you do. And they definitely don’t know how he kisses you goodbye at the airport or the special way his eyes light up when he says “I love you.”

This vacation will be everything you’ve been dreaming of. And you know Charles will do whatever it takes to make it unforgettable.

As the yacht pulls away from the marina, the only thing on your mind is the blissful weeks ahead with your love. Everything else fades blissfully into the background.

***

You walk with the group of engineering students through the halls of Maranello, thrilled to be back at the Ferrari factory. You did your internship here last year but walking around still feels surreal.

As you pass the simulator room, you hear someone call your name.

“Y/N! Hold on a second!”

You turn and see Gianni, one of the simulator engineers you befriended during your internship. He jogs over holding a sleek black ring.

“Charles left this after his session the other day,” he presses the familiar band into your palm. “Can you get it back to him?” Gianni asks.

You grin, turning the ring over in your hands. Charles hates taking off his Oura fitness tracker but has to for simulator runs.

“Of course, I’ll give it back to him when I’m in Monaco.”

You turn back to your friends, expecting this to be the final push they need to believe you.

But Livia just rolls her eyes. “Come on Y/N, he is obviously in on this whole charade. I bet you convinced him to play along!”

The other students nod, chuckling. Your smile disappears.

“What? No, Gianni and I really worked together when I interned here! This isn’t some weird prank,” you insist.

Matteo pats your shoulder condescendingly. “It’s alright, you don’t have to keep pretending with us. We get it, you want people to think you’re dating Charles Leclerc. But it’s getting kind of sad now.”

You clench your fists in frustration as the group moves on. Why are they being so stubborn? You clearly know people here and have a real connection to Charles.

When you pass the aerodynamics lab, your mood lifts a bit. Your favorite team leader, Fabio, is there working on computational fluid dynamics simulations.

“Y/N! So great to see you back here!” He greets you warmly and pulls you into a friendly hug.

You chat with him for a few minutes, explaining about the visit. As you say goodbye, he adds, “Tell Charles I said hi when you see him this weekend!”

But Matteo just scoffs as you walk away. “Let me guess — he’s in on it too?”

You don’t even bother responding this time, too irritated. Why should you have to convince your so-called friends of anything? You don’t owe them proof when they’re clearly set on ignoring it.

As the tour concludes, Livia pulls you aside, her expression serious.

“Look Y/N, we’re a bit worried about you. All these stories ... it just seems unhealthy. We think you should talk to someone,” she says gently.

You gape at her. “Unhealthy? Because I mentioned my boyfriend a few times on a trip to his workplace? You guys are unbelievable.”

Livia frowns. “Come on, it’s more than that and you know it. The jewelry, the car, the traveling ... it’s all an elaborate fantasy life. We just want what’s best for you.”

You feel anger bubbling up inside you. Livia reaches for your arm but you jerk away.

“You want what’s best for me? Then start believing me! I love Charles and he loves me. I don’t need therapy just because you refuse to accept the facts,” you snap.

Livia looks taken aback. You don’t wait for her response, just turn on your heel and stalk away fuming.

You pull out your phone and call Charles, needing to vent. When he picks up, the sound of his voice instantly calms you.

Charles listens patiently as you recount the horrible field trip. “I’m so sorry they’re being like this, ma belle,” he soothes. “But you handled it well. Don’t let them make you question yourself.”

You sigh. “I just wish they could see how happy you make me. I hate that our love seems so unbelievable.”

“It’s their loss for not seeing what we have,” Charles replies. “Soon everyone will realize that I only have eyes for you.”

You chat for a while longer, feeling reassured. Your friends’ doubt used to make you sad but now it mostly just angers you.

You know the truth. This weekend when you fly to Monaco and fall asleep in Charles’ arms, what Matteo and Livia think won’t matter one bit.

The only thing that matters is the love between you and Charles.

And one day, both of you will make sure the whole world knows that it’s as real as it gets.

***

It’s Friday morning and you’re stuck in your Principles of Advanced Aerodynamics lecture, anxiously watching the clock.

The Italian Grand Prix weekend starts today but your professor refused to excuse you from class early. Which means you’re missing out on precious hours with Charles before free practice later today.

You resigned yourself to not seeing him until tonight when the classroom door bursts open.

And there stands Charles, looking unfairly handsome in a Ferrari branded polo and jeans.

“Sorry to interrupt professor,” Charles flashes a charming grin. “But I’m going to need to steal Y/N away for the weekend.”

He shoots you a playful wink and your heart melts.

Your classmates erupt in excited whispers as they realize that the Charles Leclerc is standing in front of them. Your professor’s lips are moving but no discernible sound comes out.

The professor struggles to find words for a moment. “You’re ... you’re Charles Leclerc!” He stammers.

Charles smiles humbly. “Yes sir. And as I’m sure you know, the free practice for the Italian Grand Prix starts today. I’ll need to have my good luck charm there with from the very start.”

He extends his hand to you.

You grab your bag, legs wobbling as you make your way to the front. Charles wraps a supportive arm around your waist.

“You see professor, Y/N is my biggest supporter. My results improve dramatically when she’s present. So surely any Ferrari fan would agree that she must be trackside all weekend?” Charles urges charmingly.

The professor nods mutely before seeming to find his voice again. “Yes, of course! We certainly want the best results for Ferrari here at home. Y/N, you’re excused for the day. If you give me just a moment ...” He rummages through his bag with shaking hands and pulls out a Ferrari phone case.

“Would you mind?” He asks sheepishly.

“Not at all,” Charles smiles, taking the case and scrawling his signature across it with a provided permanent marker.

Your professor looks ready to faint. “Thank you so much. Enjoy the race weekend. Forza Ferrari, sempre!”

Trying not to laugh, you quickly gather up the rest of your things. Your friends watch wide-eyed as Charles takes your hand.

“Ready, mon amour?” He asks.

When you nod, he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you passionately in front of the entire class.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your lips.

You cling to him, dizzy from the kiss. “Not as much as I missed you. I can’t believe you came here just to pick me up.”

Charles caresses your cheek. “I’ll always come for you. Now let’s get going to Monza. I want to show you how much I appreciated your good luck texts before practice.”

He keeps your hand clasped firmly in his as you make your way outside. When you glance back through the windows, your classmates are still staring after you in stunned disbelief.

Once you’re in the familiar 488 Pista, you finally let out the laugh you’ve been suppressing. “Did you see the looks on everyone’s faces? I thought Professor Mancini was actually going to faint.”

Charles grins. “I know dramatic gestures aren’t usually my style but I wanted them to see once and for all that you’re mine.”

He lifts your intertwined hands to his lips. “No more doubting our love after today. And I meant what I said — you’re my good luck charm, Y/N. Having you here this weekend means everything.”

You smile up at him softly. “I’m just happy I can be here to support you.”

He kisses you deeply, still parked outside of the Politecnico, not caring who sees. And you know without a doubt that this amazing man and your once-in-a-lifetime romance are completely real.

The rest of the day flies by in a blur of excitement. In between practice sessions, Charles takes any chance he can to steal moments alone with you in his driver’s room.

His tender kisses and whispered reminders of his love send your heart racing faster than an F1 car.

***

It’s race day in Monza and you’re walking through the paddock hand-in-hand with Charles. His physio and press officer trail behind you both as Charles waves to the cheering Tifosi in the stands.

Suddenly, you hear voices calling your name.

You look over to see Matteo and Livia leaning over the fence, trying to get your attention.

“Y/N! We’re so sorry we didn’t believe you!” Livia shouts.

“Please come talk to us!” Yells Matteo. “We feel awful about everything!”

You stop short, conflicting emotions swirling through you. Charles senses your hesitation and squeezes your hand supportively.

“What do you want to do, mon cœur?” He asks. “I can try to get them paddock passes last minute if you want to talk.”

You bite your lip. Part of you wants them to witness first-hand the depth of your relationship with Charles. To show them just how wrong they were to mock and belittle your love.

But another part of you is still hurt by their stubborn refusal to believe you all this time. Do they really deserve VIP paddock access after the way they treated you?

“I don’t know, Charles ... they were so patronizing about our relationship for so long. I’m not sure they deserve the reward of paddock access after demeaning my feelings,” you reply.

Charles nods thoughtfully. “I understand. It’s completely up to you, of course. But it could be nice for them to see up close just how real our love is. Watching us together will help it finally sink in.”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips. Charles does make an appealing case ...

“Alright, I can’t say no to that adorable face,” you laugh and kiss his cheek. “But maybe keep them waiting a bit first as payback!”

Charles grins mischievously. “I think that can be arranged.” He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, dipping you backwards dramatically.

The crowd erupts in cheers and whistles, a wild and beautiful sea of Rosso Corsa.

When you come up for air, you see your friends watching open-mouthed from the stands. Charles winks at them over your shoulder before leading you away, his arm curled firmly around your waist.

Several hours later, Matteo and Livia finally receive their paddock passes. They rush over to you right away, profusely apologizing again.

“Seeing you and Charles together in class was unbelievable, but this ...” Matteo trails off, darting around at the bustling paddock with wide eyes. “You really are dating an F1 driver!”

You exchange an amused look with Charles. “Yes, that is what I’ve been trying to tell you for many months now,” you laugh.

Livia hugs you tightly. “I’m so sorry for ever doubting you. But after today, we’ll never question your relationship again.”

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I hope after witnessing our love up close, you will see there is nothing Y/N wouldn’t do for me, just as I would do the same for her.” He gazes down at you tenderly and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You and Charles both laugh as your friends turn red. “We’re really happy for you two,” mumbles Matteo. “Hopefully we can all start over now.”

Charles smiles kindly. “Of course! Y/N’s happiness is what matters most to me and I know how important her friends are to her.”

You feel yourself falling even more in love with this man and his endless patience and compassion.

The race keeps you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. When Charles takes the top step on the podium, you and your friends scream loudly enough to be heard in Milan.

That night at the celebration, Charles gives a sweet toast about how your love inspires him.

Matteo and Livia watch with tears in their eyes.

“Wow, when you said your boyfriend was romantic, you really meant it,” Livia whispers.

“I told you, Charles is one-of-a-kind. I’m so lucky to be his and to be loved by him.”

Charles comes over and pulls you into his arms, nuzzling your hair. “I’m the lucky one, mon ange.”

He stops and takes both of your hands, gazing into your eyes intently. “I never want you to doubt what we have, Y/N. You are everything to me. My whole world.”

Matteo shakes his head in wonder as he takes in the pure love clearly shining in both of your eyes. “We’re so sorry we ever doubted that what you have is real. Seeing you together, it’s obvious your love is straight out of a fairytale.”

You grin up at Charles, your heart overflowing. With his kisses still lingering on your lips and surrounded by friends who finally believe, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Now everyone can see your love just as clearly as the two of you always have.

***

Today is the day you’ve been working towards for years — your graduation from the Politecnico di Milano with your Laurea Magistrale in Aeronautical Engineering.

The auditorium is packed with proud families as you line up with your classmates, dressed in formal robes and caps. Charles insisted on coming, despite it being right before the start of a triple header. And having him here means the world to you.

When your name is called, you grin widely as Charles’ cheers rise above the polite applause of the audience. He gives you a standing ovation, not caring that he is blocking everyone’s view.

His pride and support brings happy tears to your eyes. You blow him a discreet kiss and see him pretend to catch it, pressing his hand to his heart.

After the ceremony ends, you rush straight into Charles’ arms. He swings you around then kisses you deeply. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour! All of your hard work has paid off.”

You hug him tight, overwhelmed with emotions. “Having you here today, supporting me every step ... it’s the best gift I could ask for.”

Charles strokes your hair tenderly. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. But I do have one more surprise ...”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope with the unmistakable Ferrari seal.

Handing it to you, Charles bounces excitedly on his toes. “Go on, open it!”

With shaking hands, you open the letter and read the words offering you a position as a Junior Aerodynamics Engineer with Scuderia Ferrari.

“Charles, what ... how ...” you stammer in shock.

He smiles widely. “Enrico Cardile was very impressed with the work you did during your internship as well as your thesis.”

You continue staring at the letter. “But I don’t want special treatment just because I’m your girlfriend. I want to earn a position at Ferrari on my own merits,” you say uncertainly.

Charles grasps your hands. “Mon ange, you know I would never influence the team’s decisions. They want you because of your skills, not our relationship. I only asked if I could deliver the news as a graduation gift when I found out.”

You bite your lip. “It’s just ... I don’t want anyone thinking that I didn’t earn this.”

“Listen to me,” Charles quickly gets serious. “You are the most talented, driven, and intelligent person I know. You’ve worked relentlessly for this and Ferrari recognizes that. Please don’t doubt for one second that you deserve this.”

His sincere words dissolve your concerns. He’s right — you interned successfully with the team already. You can do this.

You throw your arms around him again. “Then I accept the offer! I’m going to be a Formula 1 aerodynamicist!”

“You will be incredible, Y/N. I can’t wait to see you thriving there. You’re going to change the world with that beautiful mind of yours.”

You cling to him, overwhelmed with emotions. “I couldn’t have done any of this without your love and support. You gave me the strength to keep pursuing my dreams.”

Charles tips your forehead to his, eyes shining. “And you gave me the gift of true love. My life is so much richer with you in it.”

He kisses you until you’re both smiling too widely to continue. Taking his hand, you turn to look out at the gathered families, classmates, and professors mingling around.

Just months ago, no one believed your relationship with Charles was real. But here you stand, ready to take on the world together.

Your storybook romance has grown into an unshakable partnership.

As Charles squeezes your hand, you know that the next chapter of your lives will be even better. You can’t wait to build your future with this amazing man — both on and off the track.

***

10 years later

You take a deep breath as you walk into the familiar lecture hall at the Politecnico di Milano. Looking out at the eager young students, you remember sitting in their place not so long ago. Back when you were just starting your engineering studies, never dreaming you would one day return as a guest lecturer.

Charles insisted on coming with you today and you scan the room until you spot him sitting inconspicuously in the back row, trying his hardest not to draw attention to himself. He gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

“Good morning, everyone. For those who don’t know me, I am Y/N Leclerc — Head of Aero Development at Scuderia Ferrari and former student right here at Polimi.”

As you start your lecture on the aerodynamic theory behind Ferrari’s latest championship-winning car, you easily slip back into the familiar rhythms of university life.

Discussing complex simulations and wind tunnel testing with these eager minds reminds you of the days you were in their shoes.

You can hardly believe it’s been 10 years since you sat in this very room, never imagining the incredible journey ahead.

After joining Ferrari, you and Charles found ways to balance your personal and professional lives through compassion and communication.

Winning your first World Championship together was a euphoric blur of champagne and ecstatic team celebrations. Being the first female Director of Aerodynamics in Formula 1 was daunting but Charles never stopped believing in you.

When he got down on one knee after winning in Monza and asked you to be his wife, it was one of the happiest moments of your life. Planning a wedding while chasing championships was no easy feat but your passion for racing and each other kept you going.

Now, five championships later, you’ve settled into a blissful rhythm as partners both on and off the track. There were tough times and painful losses but coming home to each other’s arms helped erase the remnants of any bad day.

As you wrap up the lecture and open the floor to questions, a female student raises her hand. “As a woman working in F1, what’s the best advice you can give aspiring engineers like me?”

You smile, thinking back on your own self-doubts starting out. “Don’t be afraid to take up space and make your voice heard,” you tell her. “Formula 1 needs more brilliant women like you. If you love the science and the cars, pursue this career fiercely no matter what anyone says.”

The student thanks you excitedly and you make a mental note to talk to Charles about establishing an engineering scholarship for female students.

After the lecture finishes, Charles comes up to greet you with a tender kiss. “You were incredible up there. I’m so proud to call you my wife.”

You kiss him back, still just as dizzyingly in love as that first date all those years ago. “I couldn’t have done it without my biggest cheerleader here supporting me.”

As you walk hand-in-hand back to the car, you think about how far you’ve come together.

A storybook romance, successful careers, and most importantly, an unbreakable partnership built on love and trust.

When Charles said your love would overcome any doubt, you never imagined how right he would be.

But now, as the Italian sunlight glints off your matching wedding bands, you know the best is still yet to come.

[kbagraces]

Give Me Love - LN4

Lando Norris x fwb!Reader

summary: in his previous relationships he couldn’t protect them from the backlash of simply being with him. but will protecting only end up hurting you?

loosely based off give me love by ed sheeran

(not proof read)

"Give me love like her, 'cause lately I've been waking up alone"

He missed all of you.

He missed the way you laughed, covering your smile as you did so. He never understood why you were insecure of your smile. So he spent almost every minute with you trying to make you smile, eyes crinkled, he'd grab your hand attempting to get a glimpse of your scrunched up face.

He missed the way you ranted about topics you saw online, your voice rising slightly with passion as you spoke on things which either filled you with passion or disdain. More often than not he wouldn't have a clue what you were talking about but he loved how invested you were.

He missed the way you spoke. How you acted. He missed you.

When you weren't around the void couldn't be filled, he knew that but that didn't stop him attempting to disperse his feelings with emptiness.

Random girls residing in his bed while you were back in England or when he was flying around the world. He knew it was wrong but he'd picture your face beneath him as he fucked these strangers. That's all it was, a quick fuck. Momentary bliss before the clarity hit and he'd remember it wasn't you writhing from his touch.

He lay beside the girl who ever so slightly resembled you. He noticed her falling asleep, he used her so he decided to be courteous and at least let her stay the night, hoping she'd slip out before he awoke.

Since you, he never slept beside another girl, he made his way to his spare room, climbing in the smaller bed. You frequented his mind more as of recent. You'd only left a few weeks ago as his summer break began. You'd managed to book a few days holiday to visit him in his home in Monaco. The time you spent together was precious to both of you. You both treated each other as delicate, breakable items. You knew the other was in reach but not yours to keep.

You'd had multiple conversations across your 2 years of friendship about becoming more, never fully tried on both parts. Lando's fondness of you found him wanting to keep you away from the media as much as possible. They knew you existed, but they didn't know much about you and he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to protect you, he couldn't in his previous relationships, losing girls he thought he loved due to media and fan scrutiny. And his feelings for you were a thousand times more intense, he couldn't put you through that. He couldn't hurt you.

You on the other hand were hurting because of that. You knew he had good intentions but seeing him stumble out of clubs with girl after girl left a sour taste in your mouth. He felt no shame exposing his promiscuity to the media thus you couldn't help feeling the rising feeling of perhaps he was ashamed of you. He reassured you that wasn't at all true but the insecurity crept through from time to time.

You adored him. Before him life was grey, you worked in a small coffee shop, all your friends moving on to big and beautiful jobs whilst you struggled to get by. Your dream was to own your own cafe so you muddled on by in your mediocre job saving every penny to fulfil your dream. Then Lando came along. Ordering a coffee from the cafe you worked in almost every day that he was back in the UK.

The conversation was easy and the friendship blossomed. No man has made you as happy as Lando has. A few months into your friendship Lando admitted to you he didn't even like coffee, he simply panicked the first time he saw you. His return to the shop everyday was just to see you, he simply tolerated the bitter taste just to speak to you.

When Lando heard of your dream he begged for you to let him buy you a cafe and get you started, you refused every time. In fact you rarely let him spend any money on you, paying your way as much as possible. Obviously some extravagant dates he'd taken you on in quiet towns across different countries your wage didn't come close to, but other than that you were as independent as your salary would allow.

Lando recognised your independence. Selfishly, it was one of the first things he loved about you. Most girls he'd been involved with saw him as a walking bank, but you didn't. You didn't see his status or the money in his bank. You saw him.

It terrified him for a while, but he couldn't escape you. The love he felt for you. But he also couldn't escape his lifestyle.

Tonight was no different. You hadn't spoken for about a week after pictures of his last rendevous leaked. You did this every time pictures of that nature were released. You knew your radio silence wouldn't last long but you liked to protect your peace for a little before running back to the man you can't have.

"Maybe tonight i'll call ya, after my blood turns into alcohol"

Lando stumbled out of the club, alone for once. Every time he got papped in these situations he promised himself he'd behave to prove to you that he was worth holding on to. Like clockwork, as soon as the taxi dropped him at his Monaco home he was on the phone.

"Lando."

"Y/n. I've missed your voice."He slurred over the phone, you knew the routine, you knew he was drunk, his speech only confirming what you knew.

"Any pictures i need to be warned to look out for tomorrow morning?" Only half joking, he knew it hurt you, but being together would be worse he thought.

"Not tonight. Just needed to hear your voice. Needed to know you're still mine."

You sighed, this is teetering on too much.

"I've been yours for two years Lando. Not much has changed. I wait for you, you sleep around, i get hurt. Then you ring me drunk apologising and repeat."

"I'm yours as much as your mine, y/n. You know that. You know why I can't give my all to you, I can't be the one to be the reason you're hurting." His eyebrows furrowed, this isn't how this normally goes. You're rarely angry at him, you're forgiving and caring. But tonight he feels the conversation shifts to passive aggressive, even he can tell despite his drunken state.

"This is hurting Lando. You can't be that foolish to think i can do this forever. We're playing hide and seek to try and turn this round. I want you but not like this. I was going to say this next time i saw you. You're hurting me and i need time now."

"No." He panicked, he wasn't sure what to say. A refusal probably wasn't the smartest but he couldn't find the words to beg you not to do this, to give him another chance. But those words have been uttered a few too many times recently.

You wanted more than a no, but even if he fought, you'd been pushed too far this time. "You'll be fine Lan, another girl is around the corner you know that, but hold her tighter this time. Don't fall into this routine with the next one."

Tears spilled from your eyes, you knew he didn't mean to hurt you, hes not a bad person. He's in fact the best person in your life, but nothing changes no matter what you say and you're all out of fight.

"No, i just want to hold you", his voice cracks. He can't have lost you.

"I love you Lando, i do but i spend more time missing you and worrying about the next time my hearts going to shatter than i do loving you."

"I'm sorry y/n i can change ill be better, ill move back to the UK, we can fix this." Hes begging praying to all the Gods or anyone out there to hear his plea.

"It's gone too far this time. Be safe and be happy, my love. You''ll forever be in my heart but you'll never be mine."

----- ----- -----

"And it been a while but i still feel the same."

He hated to admit it, but he's been anything but himself in the last 4 months. After he subsequently ripped his own heart out, you went no contact. In the first week he thought this was one of your phases and you'd come back like he'd gotten so used to you doing. But one week became two and then so on.

He checked your socials everyday, begging for glimpses into your life. It hurt to be an observer to your life but it was the only way he felt close to you now. He'd flown to the UK after Singapore, he had a few week before his next race and McLaren were begging him to return and work on the simulator.

It was no doubt his performance had declined since you left. His closer friends at McLaren, the few he actually trusted aware of your 'relationship' recognised the correlation. He refused to be in the UK between races, not trusting himself to avoid you if he was back. But they needed him to be better and the HQ was the best place for that.

And now that he was back he was indeed struggling to avoid turning up at the cafe. He never did, but he would often drive past on the way to work, hoping for a glimpse of you.

Like clockwork, after his morning run he was straight onto instagram, searching your profile.

yourusername: "café des amoureux open for business!! *address* !!!

His legs were already running to his car, his fingers copying the address into maps. His mind disregarding your plea of no contact, this was your dream. You were still his favourite person, before it got too much he was your biggest supporter of your dreams. He wanted to tell you how proud he was.

It was 8am and you'd only just opened, expecting a slow day as it was the opening day. The bell rang signifying someones entrance, you hurried out the kitchen a grin on your face as you approached the counter. A familiar face standing before you a sheepish grin adorning his face.

He couldn't read your reception to his presence. "Y/n." He breathed out. "You did it! You fucking did it!! He cheered, joy and pride laced in his tone.

You ran around to him, almost knocking him over, burying your face into shoulder, his familiar scent surrounding you. "We did it, Lan."

We. Without his encouragement, your confidence wouldn't be high enough to have followed the dream. Even in his absence, you remember every pep talk he gave you. Every time he wiped your tears after your 50 hour weeks and when your bills were getting too much. Every phone call at any hour whatever the country. He will always be your best friend, he just couldn't be the one to love you loyally.

"Y/n can i just say-"

"Gorgeous it looks wonderful!" A voice interrupted him. He didn't even hear the bell go, too entranced by your beautiful appearance

He turned to see a man in a suit standing in the doorway, his hair curly like Lando's. There were certainly some similarities, please say this is the landlord.

"Lan this is my f-" "-boyfriend" he finished for her, Lando didn't like that. Firstly he convinced himself she was going to say friend, secondly she has a voice of her own, she doesn't need to be spoken for.

"Hi mate" the stranger smiled, Lando convinced it was a smirk. He was cocky, Lando didn't like him. The boyfriend extended a hand to Lando, to which he simply gave an upturned nod. He didn't feel the need to exchange manors with him.

"How long have you been together?" You could tell he was hurt just looking at him, his voice confident but his eyes with a fragile glint in them.

"Only a month, we've actually not discussed labels yet!" You defended, not too sure why. Dan was lovely and even lived in the same country!

"No time like the present! This should be a day to remember, not just for the cafe!" Dan grinned.

Lando didn't like that either. Today should be about the cafe. Nothing else. He decided not to comment, the air already felt tense to him. He felt a tight feeling in his chest.

This must've been how you felt over the 24 months when you saw him with random girls. You endured it and waited for 2 years for him yet Lando feels like he can't stand this feeling for 2 more minutes.

"I need to go, Zak will start to think I've been kidnapped."

You felt hurt he wouldn't stay longer, you wished Dan hadn't turned up. You had so much to say. "Oh Lan please stay for a bit."

"You don't need me. To stay i mean. You'll be busy, I'll leave you to it. I'm so proud of you y/n/n. Always."

You pulled him in for a hug, "please stay." you whispered in his ear.

"Goodbye y/n/n." He gently smiled at you as he pulled away, quickly exciting hearing Dan say how nice it was to meet him. Leaving you stood, abandoned once more as Dan gave you a hug as you stood frozen. Leaving him over the phone was so much easier than watching him leave in person, he left you with the sense it'd be longer than four months before your paths crossed again

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You're gone, finally moved on, he thought...

"Maybe i should let you go."

----

Part 2

[sonamytrash]

Distraction

AN: Based after the female titan arc where Levi injures his leg. Cute lil nurse reader and Levi come to terms with their mutual feelings after the scouts suffer such heavy losses. Smutty smut smut galore, enjoy! Divider by @cafekitsune

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader, Levi x Nurse reader

Warnings: Sex, little bit of angst, mostly smut, handjob, fingering, sex, vaginal sex, female anatomy described, mutual pining, orgasm, creampie, dirty talk, Levi's office chair is humanities strongest chair, not proof read.

Levi sat at his desk, one hand propped up under his chin as he stared out the window, watching the rain patter against the glass. Levi ackerman's office was as austere as he was. It was a space that invited solitude, a retreat from the chaos of the world outside. And yet, even in this sterile environment, there was a certain air of... anticipation. A spark of life that Levi had not felt in a long time. He could feel it crackling in the air, dancing on the tips of his fingers, and whispering his name. It was not the wind, nor was it the rain that had been pounding against his window for hours. It was you. You were coming.

You were a welcome distraction from the current stres and grief he was plagued with these past few weeks. The gorgeous nurse with the sweet voice, gorgeous figure, and big doe eyes. He found himself looking forward to your visits amongst the chaos.

Levi couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been admiring you for. It seemed like every time you had to patch up any injuries or wounds, his gaze would unconsciously gravitate towards you. You were a beautiful woman with an alluring personality. He settled on the thought that he had been drawn to you for as long as he could remember.

Over the years, your relationship has evolved from one of a patient and nurse, to something more complicated. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew it went beyond professional.

His thoughts drifted back to the last mission. His entire squad had been wiped out, amongst hundreds of others, and he was lucky to have made it back with just an injured leg. The memories of that day replaying themselves in a macabre loop in his mind.

He couldn't help but wonder how you would feel if he didn't make it back alive. Would you mourn his loss? Would you remember him as more than just another injured soldier you had tended to? The thought both terrified and thrilled him.

Levi leaned back in his chair and surveyed his office once more. The door was slightly ajar, and the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hallway outside. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart, and straightened his posture. This was Levi ackerman, after all. He wasn't the type to get flustered or nervous. But he couldn't deny the butterflies in his stomach or the heat that had spread to his cheeks.

The footsteps grew louder, and then there was a gentle knock on his door. His heart leapt into his throat. "Come in," he croaked, his voice sounding strange and distant even to his own ears. The door opened, revealing a vision of loveliness that took his breath away.

"Good afternoon, Levi," you said, "I'm here to check up on that leg of yours." Your voice was as alluring as ever, like honey dripping from the tongue of an angel. You glanced briefly at his injured limb before looking back up at him. Even that simple action made him feel a strange fluttering in his chest.

As you walked over to him, your movements were fluid and graceful. Levi tore his gaze away from your curves and back to your face, not wanting to seem rude. You knelt down beside his chair, your eyes meeting his once more. "How's the pain been?" You asked, your voice low and soothing.

Levi swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "It's... bearable," he managed to say. "Better than it was, at least." You nodded, studying him carefully. He felt self-conscious under your scrutiny, as if you could see right through him, as if you could read his mind that was plagued with desire and by thoughts of you.

You reached out your hand, your slender fingers gracefully curving over his knee. The contact sent a jolt of awareness through him, making his breath hitch in his throat. "I'll just take a look," you murmured, your voice low and soothing. Your touch was gentle but firm as you began to probe at his leg, feeling along the muscles and bones.

Levi closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sensation of your hands on his skin rather than the way your body brushed against his chair. It had been so long since he'd felt anything like this, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have you in the way he desired most.

"And how have you been, Captain?" You ask him, trying to initiate conversation sensing his tense body language.

He shrugged, looking away momentarily. "Oh, you know. Bored out of my mind. Nothing new." You giggle at his comment, and he felt the heat in his cheeks growing more intense at the adorable sound, his expression softening. "Is there anything I can tell you about the state of my leg that you don't already know?" He asks teasingly.

"It's healing nicely. You're making excellent progress." Your voice was soft and reassuring, "but I do want you to take it easy for a little while longer. No strenuous activity, alright? Or else." Your fingers danced over his knee again to examine the proximal area of his leg, sending shivers up his spine. He chuckles. "Or else what?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. You smirk playfully in response, "or else I'll come for you, I don't care if you're humanities strongest soldier." You pout playfully, trying to hide the fear in your eyes, thoughts of how he only narrowly returned from the recent scouting mission. "I'll come and find you and drag you back here myself." You said sternly. "Understood?." You ask, meeting his gaze, his lips curve almost into a smile, that answers his earlier question. Your face was etched with concern, concern for his wellbeing. Because if one day he didn’t come back, your heart would break.

You continued your examination, your fingers moving higher up his thigh. Levi's heart raced, and he could feel himself growing harder beneath his uniform. He tried to focus on something else, but it was impossible not to notice the way your breasts pressed against your uniform whenever you leaned forward.

"Though I do think you're ready for some light exercise," you said, your voice still soft. "Just to keep the blood flowing and help with the healing process." You paused, looking up at him with those eyes, those fucking eyes. "And," you added with a mischievous grin, "to make sure you don't get too bored sitting around all day."

"Well," he said, his voice slightly unsteady, "What did you have in mind?" He forced himself to meet your gaze, hoping his expression conveyed the interest and attraction he was feeling.

You paused your examination, hands resting gently on his thigh. Levi felt your eyes flicker down to where his uniform was straining, and he couldn't help but blush hotter, you had noticed. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't bring himself to break eye contact with you. There was something in your gaze that made him feel both vulnerable and strangely aroused.

"I see you're feeling a little warmer over here," you murmured, your voice low and teasing. Your thumbs slowly brushed against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, sending a shiver of pleasure through him. He could feel the heat rising in his face, and his breath came faster as you continued to touch him.

"That's understandable, considering the circumstances." Your thumbs traced light circles over his hardness, and Levi gasped, arching into your touch. You smiled at his reaction, your eyes glinting with mischief.

"But you shouldn't feel embarrassed." You continued, your hand palmed harder along his length, and Levi bit back a moan.

You smiled, eyes never leaving his as you lifted yourself to his level. You leaned closer, your breath warm against his ear. "I could help you feel better," you whispered. "If you'd like." Your hand slipped around to cup his groin, your thumb pressing against the tip of his erection.

"Fuck," Levi moaned, unable to contain the sound as pleasure coursed through him. He arched his back, pressing further into your touch. "Yes," he managed to croak. "Please."

With practised ease, you undid the buttons of his uniform, revealing his chest. Your touch was gentle but firm as you guided his shirt off, tossing it aside. His skin was warm and smooth beneath your fingers, and you revelled in the feel of him beneath your touch.

"You've been such a good patient," you continued, your voice a husky whisper. "I think it's only fair that I reward you."

Levi arched into your touch, a hiss escaping his mouth. He wanted more. He needed more. He reached up, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling you closer still, their lips mere inches apart.

"And you've been such a patient girl, waiting for me to come back in one piece all those times, patching me up each and every time. I'm sorry I've made you worry. It only seems fair that I return the favour...." He says, mimicking your words seductively with a tenderness you had never heard from him before.

You smile as you lean in, your lips brushing against his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mere flutter of your lips against each other. But as your tongues met and explored the depths of each other's mouths, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and passionate

You leaned forward, your breasts brushing against his chest as you reached down to unfasten his pants. With practiced efficiency, you slid them off, taking his boxer briefs with them. Levi was left bare before you, his erection standing proudly, leaking pre-cum. You couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of his body, the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin. His gorgeous cock that had just the right amount of length and girth.

You watched him with a mixture of lust and tenderness, your eyes tracing the lines of his face and body. The way he responded to your touch made your heart race, the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips and the sound of his pleasure echoing in the quiet room.

You fingers tracing a circle around the head of his cock before wrapping your hand around him, stroking him slowly and gently. He arched his back, pressing into your hand, moaning softly. His hips began to move of their own accord, seeking release. Your expert touch sending waves of pleasure through him. Your fingers tightened around him as you began to stroke him faster. Levi groaned into the kiss, his hips bucking upward. "Y/n" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I want you." He breathed. You smirked at his words as you straddled him in his seat, careful not to put too much of your weight on his injured leg.

"You have me, you've always had me, Levi." you whispered, your lips finding his neck. Your tongue darted out, tracing a line along his pulse point.

Levi growled in response, arching his back further into your touch. He wrapped his arms around you tightly as he kissed you again, your tongues tangling in a desperate dance. He felt your other hand against his chest, your nails digging into his skin, leaving little trails of pleasure and pain. The sensation only served to heighten his arousal, making him harder and hotter than ever.

You moaned into the kiss, your body moving in perfect synchronicity with his. Your hips now rocked against his, grinding against the thick ridge of his erection. You felt the warmth of him, the need in every thrust of his hips.

Levi's hands were everywhere, tracing lines of desire over your skin, his fingers leaving trails of heat in their wake. He nipped at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine, and then soothed the sting with a tender kiss. You arched your back, pressing your chest flush against his, your breasts crushed against his muscled chest.

"Take off your clothes," he murmured, his voice rough with need. "Show me everything." There he was. The assertive, forward and absolutely fucking irresistible Captain Levi.

You felt your heart race as you gazed into his lustful eyes, your cheeks flushed, biting your bottom lip. Slowly, you reached up to undo the buttons of your blouse, revealing the underwear you wore beneath. You pulled the fabric off, letting it fall to the floor before he reached behind you and unclipped your bra. Your breasts, rosy and firm, were now on display, "Fuck." He groaned.

Levi's eyes never left your body as you continue to undress, his gaze traveling up and down, drinking in every inch of you. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He reached out to brush a thumb over your nipple, and you arched into the touch, a moan escaping your lips.

You began to undo the button of your pants, your hearts racing in anticipation. You pushed them down over your hips with your underwear, revealing all of your body. Levi's eyes darkened at the sight of you, and he reached out to touch you again, tracing a line down your stomach, over your mound, and finally to the center, where you were dripping wet for him.

Your breath hitched as his fingers made contact, and you arched your back. You whimpered his name, pressing yourself against his touch. His other hand moved to cup your bottom, lifting you up so that you were positioned over him.

"You're so wet for me," he growled, his voice low and husky. "I can't wait to feel you around my cock." He spread your wetness with his fingers, teasing your entrance, before finally slipping one inside.

As his fingers found their way inside you, you gasped, he cupped you, his thumb brushing against your clit,

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, your hips moving in time with his hand. The sensation of being filled by his fingers was overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You felt yourself growing wetter, hotter, as he thrust his fingers deeper, curling them to hit just the right spot.

"You're so fucking tight," Levi groaned, his voice thick with desire. His fingers found your entrance again, slipping and sliding as they prepared your body for him. "L-levi," you moaned. He smiled against your skin, his free hand pinching and tracing lazy circles around your nipple. "That's it," he murmured. "Let me hear you." His other hand continued to work on your pussy, his fingers finding a rhythm that made you writhe and cry out.

He moved his fingers faster, harder, as he watched your face contort with pleasure. Your breasts heaved with each ragged breath, your nipples hard and begging for his attention. He took one between his lips, sucking gently before biting down softly, causing you to cry out his name again.

"Oh God, Levi," you moaned, your voice strained. Your inner walls clenched tight around his fingers, milking his touch, and he could feel your orgasm coursing through you. He increased the pressure on your clit, rubbing it in circles, his fingers still working you, slowly easing the intensity of the sensations.

He gently parted you r legs with his fingers, revealing your wetness to his gaze. "You're so beautiful," he murmured again, his voice low and husky. "So hot and ready for me."

You shuddered, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm. You looked into Levi's eyes, your faces mere inches apart, "More," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He smirked at your words, "What was that? I couldn't hear you." He said teasingly.

You felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable with Levi looking at you like that, but it was also the most arousing thing you had ever experienced. His words sent a shiver of desire through you. "Please," you whispered, your hips moving in time with his hand. "I need you inside me, Levi."

Levi smiled, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched you respond to his touch. He withdrew his fingers from between your legs, only to grip your hips and pull you closer. His erection pressed against you, hot and hard.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, his voice gruff with lust. You nodded, eyes locked on his, your fingers digging into his shoulders. With a groan, he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed his length inside. You met his movements and lowered yourself onto him. Your body tightened around him, greedy for his cock and he let out a shuddering breath as he felt your heat engulf him.

"Fuck, you're greedy little pussy is sucking me right in." He says through gritted teeth. Trying not to cum there and then. You whimper at his words as he stretches you "I can't help it Levi," You say breathlessly "It feels so good."

He began to move, slowly at first, his hips meeting yours in a steady rhythm as you adjusted to each other. You arched your back, as you felt him filling you, stretching you in ways you hadn't even known were possible. You moaned his name, nails gripping his shoulders.

Levi's movements grew more assured, his body aligned with yours in perfect harmony. The sounds of your skin slapping together filled the room, a primal symphony of desire. You were so wet, so tight, it was almost painful for him to hold back any longer.

Your face was flushed with desire, as you surrendered to the sensation of being taken by him. Your breasts bounced against his chest, hips meeting his thrusts with a desperation that threatened to unravel him. You moved against him with a ferocity that both aroused and terrified him. He was lost in the feel and the taste of you, the sound of your moans filling the air. He gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your soft flesh in an attempt to steady you as he felt the familiar tugging deep in his core.

He gripped your waist tighter, feeling the muscles in your abdomen tensing and releasing as you rode him. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as you tried to find purchase, to draw him deeper inside of you.

Your lips parted in a smile of pure pleasure, the way you moved against him, the sounds you made, the way you arched your back and cried out his name—it was all driving him closer to the edge.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin, leaving tiny half-moons of red in their wake. He could feel you tightening around him, youer muscles tensing and releasing, your body moving in perfect harmony with his.

He could feel the heat emanating from you, the wetness that coated his fingers as he reached down and stroked your clit and your hips bucked harder against him in response to the stimulation.

"You're so fucking wet," he groaned, his voice raw with need. "I can feel you dripping onto my cock. You're killing me, baby." He thrust upwards harder, deeper, feeling you inner muscles clench and release around him in perfect rhythm. Your hips bucked wildly against him, urging him to continue.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "Your tight little cunt... It's like you were made for me." He thrust harder, faster, his cock sliding in and out of your wetness. Your breasts bounced with each movement, your nipples hard and aching for his touch.

"You're so big, Levi," you moaned, your voice low and throaty. "Your cock is making me loose my mind." You mewled. His cock throbbed within you at your words, filling every inch of your tight, wet warmth.

"You feel so good," you moaned, your voice thick with desire. "I can't believe how much I love your cock."

"God, you're so filthy," he growled, his voice rough with lust. "I love how much you want this." Your dirty little moans sent a shiver down his spine. Your hips began to move faster, your body undulating in a rhythm that was both primal and irresistible.

"Oh god, yes!" You cried out, your voice breaking. "Don't stop!" You begged him, he bucked his hips up, thrusting deeper inside of you, kissing your cervix with his cock. Your movements growing more urgent. He knew you were close.

"Fuck, that's it," he groaned, his hips thrusting harder as he continued to play with your clit. Your body trembled above him, your pleasure building to a fever pitch. He watched your face contort in ecstasy, eyes rolling back into your head as you came undone.

"Yes," you moaned. "Levi, I'm going to... I'm going to..." Your voice trailed off as your body gave in to the sensations washing over you. With a force that took him by surprise, your muscles contracting powerfully around him, your juices pudling where your bodies were connected, cries of pleasure filled the room as you came.

Levi felt your body tense, the muscles of your core grip him tightly, and with a final, powerful thrust, he cried out your name as he came, his hips bucking wildly, his cock pulsing deep inside you. You arched your back as you met his thrusts, your body shuddering with the force of your own orgasm.

Your bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, sweat-slicked skin sliding against each other. His cock twitched inside you as he emptied himself into your cunt. You leaned forward, your forehead resting against his, your chests rising and falling in unison as you both fought to catch your breath. Your eyes were wide and glassy with desire, lips parted in a soft, satisfied smile.

He traced a finger along your jawline, tracing the outline of your lips before cupping your face in his hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'll stay alive." he said, looking into your eyes. "I promise, even if I'm not in one piece, I'll come back to you, always."

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

''closed for cleaning on mondays'' comes from a sign, right? where it had been like written in English first and then a translation request sent to some office for the Welsh part and the autoreply came back saying the closed for cleaning bit but it's in Welsh so the people sending the request think it's the text they wanted translated, so then the road sign reads like:

''[Closed for cleaning on Mondays, but in Welsh] // Llanfainpwllgwyngyll Regional Airport 5 km"

i thought I remembered some kind of story like that......

...this is a highly surreal ask to receive and I lowkey cannot work out if you Know and are baiting me or if the stars have just aligned weirdly that I am being asked this.

Okay so no, "Closed for cleaning on Mondays" is just an isolated joke by itself, thrown out because it's funny to think of a country being closed for cleaning. HOWEVER. I do know exactly what you're vaguely remembering (or possibly fully remembering and gleefully pretending otherwise *sus*).

A new road was built near a supermarket in Swansea into a residential area in 2008, so they needed a road sign to tell delivery lorries not to enter the road. Someone in the roads section of Swansea Council duly sent the sign text ("No entry for heavy goods vehicles. Residential site only") to be translated to their internal translation department.

What they got back was an email that said:

Nid wyf yn y swyddfa ar hyn o bryd. Anfonwch unrhyw iaith i'w gyfieithu i EMAIL ADDRESS os gwelwch yn dda.

I am not in the office at the moment. Please send any work to be translated to EMAIL ADDRESS.

At which point, the galaxy-brained individual who received that response went "Ah, excellent, my translation - WAIT. Something is Wrong with this translation."

And he looked at it, and examined it, and pondered it, and then went: "Hang on. My text didn't have an email address in it."

And he looked at it again, and examined it again, and pondered it again, and then went: "Hang on. I remember from school that 'Os gwelwch yn dda" means 'please'. My text didn't have the word please in it."

And he looked at it a final time, and examined it a final time, and pondered it a final time, and then went: "I have solved the mystery here. The translator is Wrong. I just need to remove that email address and 'please' and then it'll say what I want."

And thus this happened:

And that got picked up by Welsh media, and then UK media, and then international media, and even the New York Times or some shit reported it, and then MASSIVE FUCKING SCRUTINY descended upon, not the roads department of Swansea council who were actually responsible, but the translation department of Swansea Council, because this was considered Proof that we shouldn't have to put Welsh on road signs and we should all just let Welsh die.

And THAT meant the translators working for Swansea Council suddenly had to go through their out-of-office emails to prove that they're nice and clear and easy to understand and this wasn't their fault.

And one of those poor hapless translators, whose out-of-office email was suddenly being scrutinised by the New York Times as potential evidence that his job shouldn't exist and his language should be wiped out...

WAS MY HUSBAND.

DID YOU KNOW, TUMBLR USER GIRLWARLOCK

DID YOU KNOW THAT THIS IS PERSONAL

ARE YOU TOYING WITH ME

WHAT SORT OF POWER PLAY I'M

[fic-over-cannon]

Jason Todd that’s so used to feeling second best that he can’t quite believe it when someone chooses him. Sheila never wanted him, gave him up the first chance she got. Catherine never managed to pick him over the drugs (and he knows now that that’s not how addiction works but he was a child watching the only person who loved him love what was killing her more). Bruce picked him up as an afterthought, another poor little orphan boy to always fail at filling the shoes of the first. He’s barely cold in his grave when there’s another, better version already standing next Bruce. The Titans couldn’t see past the legacy Dick left behind, constantly compared Jason to him as the less adequate model; barely sufficient, much less welcomed. Jason wants so badly to be chosen first but time and experience has only ever taught him otherwise.

Jason falls in love with you, but he can never fully believe that the love is returned fully. He’s so eager to be your only choice that he’s terrified of when you’ll eventually pick someone else over him. He wants to be greedy, drink up the experience and novelty until he’s sick on it, but he can’t. Can’t help that creeping sense that your love and attention is in finite supply, unseen deadline looming closer. He’s always got one foot out the door, unable to fully commit to a relationship when he’s bracing for the blow of you leaving. Sure that one day you’ll finally see all the flaws that make him not enough, the flaws that everyone else in his life have already discovered. Convinces himself that there’s a middle ground, one where he gets to love you but at a distance that means the leaving won’t hurt so much. But that means always holding the two of you on edge, the pressure and expectation of your choice lingering and twisting until the two of you are no longer what you were in the beginning. To know when he gets too close, he has to constantly be re-evaluating your relationship. Every moment spent together waiting for you to flinch, to waver in your commitment to him, and ready to act when he sees it. Believes that if he’s the one holding the knife, it won’t cut as deep.

He can’t see that everyday you wake up and choose him, that your love has always been a choice you are willing to make for him. Everyday you have to bear the weight of his scrutiny and it is exhausting. You know he’ll never fully trust you because he can’t believe you won’t leave first. That he’ll never fully open up to you, because he doesn’t want to hand you weapons to hurt him with, to make you reconsider choosing him. You know that if you push him on this, he’ll only interpret it as the first stages of you leaving. You’d thought that with time and proof he’d start to believe. To choose you and your love as much as you’ve chosen him.

Now, now you are trapped in a cage of your own collaborative making. If you leave now, you’ll only have proven his greatest insecurity all along. If you stay, this love will continue to fester like a wound. There is no outcome where you both come out unscathed.

[essektheylyss]

One thing that I feel is really interesting and often forgotten about Essek is that fundamentally, his characterization has been from the start based upon his desperation for external perspectives and connection, which, along with much of his narrative and mechanical positioning, means that he actually has an extraordinary and almost (but not actually, as I'll show) counterintuitive capacity for both growth and trust.

(Buckle in. This is a long one.)

In particular, I would argue, knowing now that many places where the plot touches Ludinus have long been marked for connecting back into the current plot, that he was quite possibly built as a prime candidate for radicalization by the Ruby Vanguard. He felt isolated from his culture, he was desperate for other connection, and he was certainly of the type to believe he was too smart to be drawn into such a thing, given his initial belief that he could control the situation and the fallout. If things had gone any other way, he easily could've been on the other side by now.

As such, he has been hallmarked by being fairly open to suggestion, perhaps for this reason, but the thing about that kind of trait is that it is both how people are radicalized and deradicalized. This is certainly true of Essek, who experienced genuine kindness and quite frankly strangeness from the Nein and was able to move from the isolation the Assembly had engendered to meaningful and genuine connection, largely propelled by his own internal reflection. By the time Nein are aware of his crimes, he's already begun to express regret to an extent and, furthermore, doubt in the Assembly, including explicitly drawing a line against Ludinus, even in a position where he was on his own and probably quite vulnerable.

Similarly, when the Nein reach the Vurmas Outpost some weeks later, he has moved from regret for the position he's ended up carrying a heavy remorse. This makes sense! He's fairly introspective, seems used to spending a lot of time in his own head, and was left with plenty to mull over. It's not some kind of retcon for him to have progressed well past where the Nein left him; it just means he's an active participant in the world who has done his own work in the meantime.

This is another interesting aspect to him. I've talked about this a bit before but I cannot find the post so I'll recap here: antagonists in D&D have significantly more agency than allied NPCs. Antagonists are active forces, against which the party is meant to struggle; allies are meant to support the PCs, which means they tend to be more passive in both their actions and their character growth. Essek was both built as an antagonist, in a position that gives him significant agency, and also was then given significant opportunity to grow specifically to act as a narrative mirror for Caleb's arc. Even when he becomes a more traditional D&D ally, he still retains much of that, though he occupies a supporting role.

I believe that this is especially true because of the nature of Caleb's arc, which I've already written on; the tl;dr of this post is that Caleb is both convinced that he is permanently ruined and also desperate to prove that change is possible. Essek is that proof, because he is simply the character in a position to do so. But this also means that his propensity for introspection and openness is accentuated! He has to do the legwork on his own, for the most part, because that's where he is in the meantime.

But he still ends the campaign necessarily constricted; he is under significant scrutiny, he's at risk from the Assembly, and he goes on the run fairly soon after the story ends. He spends most of the final arc anxious and paranoid, which is valid given the crushing reality of his situation. It would be very easy to extrapolate that seven years into this reality, he would be insular, closed off, and suspicious of strangers, even in spite of the lessons he's learned from the Nein and their long term exposure.

So seeing his openness and lightness now is surprising, but at the same time, given this combination of factors in his position in the narrative over time and his defining traits, it's not by any means unreasonable.

But one thing that I found so delightful is how much trust he exhibits, which is obviously a wild thing to say about Essek in particular, given much of what he learns is both earning and offering trust, which was something he says explicitly in 2x124 that he's never really experienced: "I've never really been trusted and so I did not trust." It makes up much of the progression of his relationship with Caleb, and the trust that he is offered by the Nein in walking off the ship is the impetus he needs to grow.

But I think it's easy to talk about trust when it comes to people who have proven themselves to you or to whom you've ingratiated yourself, and that's really the most we can say about Essek by the time he leaves the Blooming Grove. There is this sense in a lot of discussion of trust (not solely in this fandom) that it is only related to either naivete or love, but there's far more to it. Trust at its best is deliberate—cultivating an openness to the world at large is a great way to combat cynicism and beget connection instead. It allows a person to maintain curiosity and be open to experience, but it can be incredibly difficult to hold onto.

It is clear that the Essek we meet now is a very pointedly and intentionally trusting individual. He trusts Caleb and by extension Caleb's trust in Keyleth, as he shows up and picks up a group of strangers from a foreign military encampment and walks in without issue. He trusts the Hells to follow his lead moving through Zadash and to exhibit enough discretion so as to avoid bringing suspicion upon all of them. He trusts that Astrid will respond well to his entrance, but he also trusts himself and the Hells enough to execute a back-up plan in the case that she doesn't. In the end, he even trusts them enough to give them his name and identity.

He doesn't scan as someone who has spent half a dozen years living like a prey animal, afraid of any shadow he runs across in an alley, withdrawn into himself and an insular family, which would've been an easy route for him to take. He scans as someone who has learned the kind of trust borne of learned confidence and a trained eye for good will and kindness, which are crucial weapons one would need for staving off cynicism in his circumstances—as if he has survived thanks more to connection and kindness than paranoia and isolation. (If we want to be saccharine about it, he scans quite poignantly as a member of the Mighty Nein.)

So it is easy to imagine this trust and openness as a natural progression of his initial search for perspectives external to his own cultural knowledge. Though he makes those first connections with the Assembly to try to vindicate his personal hypotheses, he finds in them exposure to the deepest corruption among Exandrian mortals, which could've—and did, for a time—turned him further down that same dark path.

But it's also this same openness to exposure from the wider world that allows the Nein to influence him for the better, and in spite of the challenges he's certainly faced simply surviving over the past seven years, he seems to have held onto this openness enough to move through the world with self-assurance and a willingness to extend the kinds of trust and good will that he has been shown.

(I would be remiss not to mention that I was reminded about my thoughts on this by this lovely post from sky-scribbles and their use in the tags of 'light' to describe Essek's demeanor this episode, which is really such an apt word for it.)

[wheeboo]

in bloom | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which you struggle to tell your husband something that can make or break your relationship. PAIRING. idol!husband!kim mingyu x afab!reader (ft. best friend!seulgi) GENRE. fluff, established relationship, idol au, pregnancy au, comfort WARNINGS. reader is pregnant and has female reproductive organs, vague mentions of intimate relations, mentions of fatigue and throwing up, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.5k

requested from anon: idol!husband!mingyu x reader where you find out ur pregnant, and youre nervous to tell mingyu <3

notes: this is my second time ever writing a pregnancy au (first time on this blog), so... i hope u enjoy! i had too much fun with this lol

Being in the bathroom has never been this suffocating before. It's embarrassing, because literally anyone can walk in and hear the way you've been hacking over the toilet the past couple of days just like at your workplace, but the sudden bursts of nausea leaves you with no other option. You take a deep breath, attempting to compose yourself, and finally manage to stand up straight.

The little stick trembles in your hand, and as you peer down at the result, you swear you can feel the world around you completely stop. The two unmistakable lines are staring down at you through the small window of the test. You blink a few times, shaking the test even, as if hoping the lines will disappear or change, but they only remain.

It takes a moment for the reality to sink in. You're going to be a parent. A million thoughts race through your mind, and amidst the chaos, one question stands out: how do you share this with Mingyu?

Your husband is an idol, for God's sake. You've already seen the intensity of his schedule, the rigorous demands of his career, and the constant scrutiny from the public that has negatively affected other celebrities too. It feels as if you're going to be dropping a bombshell down on him.

You both always been careful when being intimate. And though you've had your conversations together about what it would be like to start a family, you never imagined it would happen quite like this, right at this moment when your husband has been reaching the peak of his career and is constantly in the spotlight. The timing couldn't be more unexpected, yet here you are, holding the proof of the little life growing within you.

Bringing the test out of sight, you splash some water on your face, taking a moment to collect yourself, before calmly making your way out of your bathroom, even with the anxious pounding of your heart feeling like it's bouncing off the walls of your place. And then suddenly, you're met with Seulgi running up to you from your living room.

"Well?" she asks, hands clasping together in excitement and an eager smile spreading across her face.

You turn towards her, and for some reason seeing the way your best friend's eyes are literally glowing with curiosity and anticipation almost makes you want to pull her in for a hug and sob into her shoulders. But you can't do that𑁋you're still struggling to process everything.

Instead, you take the pregnancy test out and show it to her.

Seulgi's eyes widen, and her hands fly to her mouth in disbelief.

"No way! Are you serious?" she whispers loudly, staring down at the test just to make sure.

"Yeah, I..." You take a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

Seulgi just squeals, unable to contain her joy. She pulls you into a tight hug that makes you let out a groan at the sudden pressure over your tired body, yet you feel a sense of relief and happiness sharing this moment with someone close.

"Sorry! Oh my gosh, I feel like crying. This is𑁋I'm so happy for you!" Seulgi exclaims as she lets you go, holding your shoulders at arm's length and bouncing up and down happily.

The two of you share a knowing smile with each other. And as Seulgi catches sight of the way your smile doesn't seem as bright as hers, the way it doesn't seem to reach to your ears, she takes a step back, concern etching across her face.

Seulgi takes your hands in hers. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

You let out a sigh. "I'm... I'm just overwhelmed, you know? It's a lot to take in, especially considering Mingyu's schedule and everything."

Seulgi squeezes your hands reassuringly. "I'm sure he will be over the moon, Y/N. He loves you more than anything."

Her words seem to offer comfort, but a lingering worry tugs at the edges of your thoughts. Seulgi senses your unease and pulls you into this time, a gentle hug.

"Listen," she says softly, rubbing her hands up and down your back comfortingly. "Mingyu is your husband. He loves you, and this is something you both have talked about before, right? You both will figure things out, so don't worry too much, okay?"

Feeling a bit more reassured, you manage a small smile. "You're right. I... I just need to find the right time to tell him."

When you both pull away from each other, Seulgi just grins.

"You'll know when the time is right, Y/N," she says, taking another glance down at the test out of excitement once again. "I'm going to be an auntie and spoil that little one rotten!"

You only let out a laugh and playfully shove her away, a lightness in your heart gradually replacing the worry in your bones.

It's been hard trying to conceal away the fatigue whenever you and Mingyu wake up together in the morning and the subtle changes in your eating habits, but you've managed to keep it under wraps so far, constantly playing it off as stress or tiredness, though you do marvel at how your husband is just a little more oblivious than you thought.

Seulgi has been nagging you almost every day to take it easy and to share the news with Mingyu. And as the days pass, the weight of the unspoken truth feels heavier, and you realise that the longer you wait, the more difficult it becomes to find the perfect moment.

So you decide to act on it. You venture to the grocery store to buy some ingredients, and prepare a romantic, intimate dinner at home. You hope that it could help clear away the cloud of anxiety running through your mind and encourage you to finally tell him once and for all.

As the savoury aroma wafts through your home, you set the table with care, ensuring everything is just right. And when you overhear the familiar clicks of the locks at the front door, you take a deep breath, your heart beating a little faster, and slowly make your way to greet him.

Mingyu walks in his almost disheveled glory, a charming mess that somehow makes him even more endearing. His tall, strong frame moves with a grace that seems effortless. You can tell the day has left its mark on him, evident in the slight weariness around his eyes, but there's an unmistakable warmth and charm that lingers in the way he carries himself.

When he catches sight of you, his eyes lock onto yours, and a smile spreads across his face, seemingly erasing any signs of fatigue.

"Hey, beautiful," he greets, closing the door behind him and coming up to you to place a sweet kiss to your lips, like he always does. Then he gestures towards the table. "What's all this?"

A shy smile plays on your lips as you take his hand and lead him to the table. "I thought we could have a special dinner tonight. Just the two of us."

He quirks a teasing eyebrow up, eyes scanning over your face. "Did I forget something?"

You shake your head. "No, you didn't forget anything, honey. I... just missed spending some quality time with you. That's all."

Mingyu's expression softens, and he pulls out a chair for you. God, you love him. "Well, I'm all yours tonight."

As the two of you begin to share the carefully prepared meal, the tension in the room slowly dissipates. He tells you about the recent preparations for his group's performance at an upcoming award show, and you update him on all the latest gossip at your workplace.

You love the sense of normalcy returning to your evening and being with him after such an eventful day. Yet within you, the anticipation courses through your veins beneath the surface of your composed act.

It becomes a bit too hard to handle that you have to dismiss yourself to the bathroom to calm yourself down.

Your hands clutch the countertop as you take a deep breath and lock eyes with yourself in the mirror. The reality of the situation dawns on you anew, the nerves doing nothing but making you overthink. It's a blend of excitement and anxiety, and it makes you tighten your grip on the cold surface of the sink.

You look down at your pocket, where the pregnancy test is safely tucked away. You know you can't postpone this moment any longer.

You've imagined the two of you as parents so many times𑁋waking up together and preparing breakfast for a little one, taking family trips, and experiencing the joy of watching your child grow before your eyes. Envisioning this kind of future with Mingyu has always been a dream, and now that it's becoming a reality, the knot in your stomach tightens.

When you head out of the bathroom, you catch sight of your husband already tidying up and washing your dishes under the dim kitchen light. And for some reason the sight alone is enough to send a surge of warmth through you and make your heart leap out of your chest. You married this man, decided to devote your entire life to him despite the complications with his career, and now, you're about to share a piece of both of you with him.

He dries his hands upon noticing you coming up. Then he looks at you with those warm, loving eyes, and it hits you like a wave𑁋the realisation that this incredible man, who has been your rock, your love, and your partner in all aspects of life, is going to be the father of your child. Just in that moment alone, you swear you fell in love with him all over again.

"Hi, angel." He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together and you can feel his wedding ring pressing against your skin, giving you a playful twirl before pulling you into his arms. "What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You smile softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Mingyu has this uncanny ability to make you feel safe, and right now, you need that more than ever.

"Nothing, just..." You bring a thumb up to brush over his skin. "Thinking about you."

Mingyu giggles heartily, pushing back some hair away from your face. "Oh, yeah?" His voice is low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Hmm, is it good thoughts?”

You only give him a sly grin. "Always."

Mingyu just pulls you even closer, his hands making their way down to hold you lightly at the waist.

"Good, because..." He leans in, pressing a kiss to the spot behind your ear. "I've been thinking about you too."

You laugh softly, relishing the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. When he pulls away, your gazes meet together, and you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. This is it𑁋the moment you've been waiting for.

"Can you close your eyes for me?" You whisper, a nervous but hopeful smile playing on your lips.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "What's this, a surprise?"

You nod, trying to conceal the trembling excitement in your voice. "Just close your eyes, honey. Trust me."

He chuckles but obliges anyway, shutting his eyes and wearing a curious grin. You take a moment to compose yourself, feeling the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders. With a deep breath, you retrieve the pregnancy test from your pocket and carefully place it into his hand.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Mingyu blinks his eyes open, and as he sees the pregnancy test in his hand, his expression transforms from curiosity to bewilderment. He looks down at the test, then back at you, his eyes widening with realisation.

"I𑁋is this...?"

"Yeah, we're..." Your words trail off for a second, and you swallow down the lump in your throat. "We're going to be parents."

Mingyu's eyes widen even further, and for a moment, he seems frozen in place. The seconds only continue stretch, feeling like an eternity in the utter silence of your place. You watch the flicker of emotions on his face𑁋surprise, confusion, shock, joy, and a hint of nervousness.

Then, as if a switch is flipped, a radiant smile breaks across his features. Before you can say something, you find yourself being lifted up and sat on the island of your kitchen with Mingyu standing between your legs.

"W-We're going to have a baby?" he stammers, as if the test wasn't enough to convince him and he needs to hear it from your own lips.

You cup his face with your hands. "Yes. We're... we're going to be parents, Gyu."

That's all it takes him for to kiss you, a gentle yet fervent kiss that feels enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Smiles emerge on both of your faces, laughter leaves your lips as he peppers kisses now all over your face.

"I can't believe it," he says between kisses, before pulling away to look at you. There's something a bit different in the way he's looking at you now, something deeper, more profound. "You're carrying our baby. I'm... I'm going to be a dad."

He gently rests his forehead against yours, his hands still cupping your face.

"We're going to be parents," he repeats, savouring the words on his tongue. He knows that phrase will be repeating in his head for the longest time. "I can't believe how lucky I am."

You kiss him again. The kitchen seems to glow with warmth and love as Mingyu holds you close, refusing to pull away anytime soon.

A pair of large arms sneak around you, the soft light of the morning seeping in through the small window and bathing your bathroom in an relaxing, ethereal glow. Mingyu nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his familiar scent wrapping around you comfortingly.

"Good morning, my love," he whispers, lips grazing against your ear.

You dry your face with a towel, letting out a contented sigh as you relax into his embrace. "Good morning."

As the quietness of the morning takes over, you feel Mingyu's hand drift a little lower, before stopping right at the hem of your shirt.

"Can I?" he asks carefully.

You can't help but grin. "You know I'm not even showing yet, right?"

Mingyu just smiles meekly against your skin. "I know. I just want to feel close to the both of you."

So with a nod, you feel his hand make its way under your shirt and gently rest on your stomach. It's only been a day since you've told him, yet he traces over your skin with such tenderness that it makes your heart swell with right out of your chest. He's always been this gentle with you, treating you with the utmost care and love as if you're the most delicate treasure he's ever held. And now, knowing that he's going to extend that same love to the tiny life growing within you, it brings heat to your eyes.

You lean back into him, relishing the warmth of his touch.

As his hand comes to a stop, he places his head on your shoulder. "This is real, isn't it?"

You cup over his hand with yours, following the way he's caressing over your stomach. "Very real."

Mingyu presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, and one to your shoulder blade.

"I love you," he murmurs into your skin. "I love you both so much."

His words linger in the hushed bathroom, and you both stand there for a little while, simply basking in the warmth of the moment knowing that your little family is now in bloom.

"I love you too," You finally reply, turning so that you can face him. "We love you too."

Mingyu just pulls you close and kisses you once more. He will never get tired of hearing that.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts

[mandowifey]

Bury

Miguel O'hara x Fem!Reader

Miguel Masterlist

Warnings: Reader is 18+,NSFW, oviposition, creampie, breeding mentions, non-con mentions, dark!Miguel, my version of Miguel, dub con, violence, aggressive heroing, Miguel being a massive ass, pet play, reader is held against her will. Oviposition - the process of having eggs laid inside of you.

Another one I needed to do before my brain exploded. Not proof read, enjoy!

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One face in a sea of millions, and he picked you. Miguel liked to say,'I saved you,' but you knew better. You were taken. Whisked away from your home and locked somewhere unfamiliar and daunting. Most people swooned at the notion of being rescued by Spider-Man, but they didn't know the truth like you.

Spider-Man wasn't a hero.

He was a monster, and you were his prey.

Miguel liked to watch you. When he was in thought or pondering his next move, he would often linger in your presence and quietly observe. You hated it, feeling like a zoo animal under scrutiny. Sometimes, he'd cross the room and sit down on the bed near you with his face towards the wall. Other times, he would lay his head on your lap and rest his eyes to the sound of your pattering heart. If you felt brave, you'd tassel your fingers through his brown curls. Being soft with him helped to temper his mood.

That afternoon, he came to you as usual and climbed onto the bed. You folded the book you were reading and sat up, adjusting the silk blue nightgown he'd given you. The look on Miguel's face is different. There is uncertainty in his eyes, and his body language feels off. You watch him for a moment before tentatively touching your hand to his back. "Miguel?"

"I'm going to need you to do something for me today."

The weight of his tone makes you jump. A man who had done nothing but take from you was asking you to help him. You felt uneasy, watching him as his expression twisted into disgust, and he looked away. Ultimately confused, your eyes track him in silence as you wait out whatever internal struggle he was dealing with.

"You aren't going to like it."

Now you laughed.

His head swiveled, and his eyes went from that warm, chocolate brown to hellish red. Bristling, his clawed hand grabbed your cheeks and squeezed until your lips stuck out. "You think it's funny?" He spits, his lip curling in a snarl. "You have no idea, not a one, of what I'm going to do to you today." With a shove, he sends you sprawling onto your back and knocks the wind out of you. You are left flailing, arms and hands catching yourself before you could topple off the bed.

"I'm sorry," you squeak, heart hammering. "I'm sorry, I just -" The way he looked at you made you panic. "You have never asked me before." It was honesty. He had taken you from your home, stolen your virginity, and hadn't stopped using you since. Spider-man's dirty little secret, locked away in his tower forever. You press your knees together and turn your eyes downward, your shoulders slanted. "I'm sorry." You reiterated, as it was the only thing you could think to say now.

Miguel watches you tense like a snake in the grass. "You're right," His voice growled. "So what's the use in asking now. Come here." A fist closes around your ankle, and you're torn closer to him in an effortless display of his strength. The gown you wore rode high, exposing your underwear and soft stomach. His eyes flick over you, taking in what he'd claimed as his long ago. Tonguing one of his growing fangs, Miguel leans down to cage your body with his own. Balanced on his knees between your legs, he brings his mouth to your ear.

"You are special, Y/N. You think I picked you randomly, that I just happened to like you for your looks?" He smiled into his words now. "It's much more than that. You see," One of his hands touches your knee and causes you to jump, a whimper tightening in your throat. "What happened to me didn't just give me fangs, or venom, or red eyes and this charming disposition I know you love so much," A breath wafts against your neck, and you shiver. "My body, every couple of months, goes into a sort of rut." Miguel adjusted himself between your legs, leaning his weight into you to let you feel the growing bulge he sported.

Sucking in a soft breath, you close your eyes as he kisses the nape of your neck. Of everything he did to you, you hated the fact he was able to make you melt. Miguel knew everything you liked and enjoyed using it against you. Grazing your flesh with his fangs, Miguel continued. "It doesn't just make me violent, hungry, and territorial, but in fact, it also makes me produce eggs." Hearing that made your eyes open and head turn to look up at him. With your faces so close, Miguel ghosted his lips over your own. "That's right," He continued. "Every time it's happened and I've tried to pass them manually, it doesn't work. The pain is fucking excruciating, Y/N." Sighing, he nips your mouth. "I came to the conclusion that for this to work, I had to find the right incubator."

That wasn't a compliment. It struck fear in your chest, and another wave of nausea rolled through you, making you hot. "Oh god," you gasp, your voice twisting in distress. Miguel was unflinching, his eyes - now back to brown, staring down at your distraught expression. "It's going to hurt, I'm guessing, but since you're such a good girl, I know you'll take them just fine for me." A sickening smile crossed his features as he kissed you, bruising your lips before drawing upwards.

"W-wait, wait, wait- Wait, Miguel, f-fuck, Miguel wait -" You babbled, helpless as the super human moved your body around to his liking. "P-please, please let's talk about this!" Tears stung your eyes and clouded your vision as he drew you close and pushed your legs apart. The only thing hiding you from him now were your panties. "Nothing to talk about, kid." He sighed finally. "Maybe you'll even like it, who knows." Miguel was unbothered by your tears as he let his suit crawl back until he was bare.

This couldn't be real, and most certainly couldn't be happening to you.

Heaving a sob, you put your face in your hands as he rips your underwear off and exposes your soft folds. "Besides, you used to beg me to stop before and now look at you, I practically make you cum every time we fuck." Chuckling, Miguel wrapped a fist around his cock and dragged the weeping tip through your slit, collecting moisture. He tuts at you. "You're kidding me! You're wet, too? Sheesh, I'm starting to think you really do like me, princess." You were humiliated and frustrated at your body for defying you. In no way did you want to be used by some maniac to harbor his clutch, and certainly didn't want to cum for him.

Miguel rumbled above you, brooding and large as he notched at your entrance. "Try not to tense up this time." He smiles when you peek at him from between your fingers, then shoves forward. His cock stretches you brutally and bottoms out as he hilts. Your hands fly from your face to grab the blankets while a scream bellows deep from your diaphragm. "Shh, shh shh, you're doing great." Cooed the hero, his body leaning forward so he could balance on his forearms above you.

He begins to thrust, drawing back until only the head is left submerged before slowly shoving back to your end. The drag of his cock is maddening, stroking the deepest reaches of your cunt and making you mewl like a cat in heat. Miguel drops his head to yours, stealing a kiss to swallow your cries and lapping into your mouth. You felt smothered as he rocks his hips, driving deep into you with each brutal thrust he gave. "Ghh-god, f-feel so fucking good." He hisses against your lips, his breath fanning your face as he bucked. Your body bounced helplessly under him as you tried so hard to fight that rising heat in your abdomen.

"That's it." Miguel purrs against your gaping mouth, dipping his tongue over your teeth and breathing in your scent. Your cunt squishes around him, embarrassing you further as it made his girth pound easier within you. "M-mi-guel-" You choke, your words broken by each impact. Finally winding your hands into his hair and scratching down his back, you cave. As hard as you fought, he fucked you well, and you couldn't deny it.

Spurred by your affection, Miguel thrusts harder. His cock pounding into you rough enough to bruise, pulling cry after cry from you. Your nails scour his back, making him snarl as his head drops to your shoulder. The both of you are panting in tandem, your mouths brushing as you breathe eachothers air. He was losing it, his thrusts becoming uneven and frantic as he draws closer to his end.

"H-hah, t-too m-much-!" Your voice breaks, nearly sobbing as he rocks just right, the tip of his cock forcing against your gspot and bringing you closer to your own release. The sounds you make encourage him, and he suddenly sits up to grab your ankles and fold you at the hips. With this knee-to-chest position, you gasp. Miguel looks down at you, his eyes cloudy with emotion and need. Some of his hair came loose and dangled in strands in front of his face.

"C'mon princess, cum for me."

And that was all it took.

The mans cock brushes something explosive and sets you off. Your world becomes white hot, body tensing and arching as you clamp down around him in waves. Later, you will hate yourself, but now you ride out your release while you cry out and rock your hips to his. Miguel, now satisfied that you finished, braces himself on his hands by either side of your head. His face changes to a look of near pitiful desperation, the sounds escaping him paint a different picture of the man who held you against your will.

As you come down from your high, you watch as he unravels. Eyes closed lightly, and head lowered, Miguel bucks into you. He sought your warmth and the comforting squeeze your little cunt gave him. Harder, until he bumps your cervix again, and you keen softly, then he crumbles. You feel him throb, followed by a hot spray of thick, heavy fluid. It doesn't hurt, even when he begins to frantically rabbit his hips into you.

He's muttering in Spanish, like he's talking to himself. The thrusting slows, and you feel strangely full and warm. Miguel eases down until his larger frame is resting against yours, caging you under him while leaving his cock nestled inside your walls. His lips press to your neck and jaw, peppering you in what felt like gratitude. You were apprehensive and uncertain if this were really all there was. It gnaws at you, but you bring your arms to wrap around his neck.

"Does it hurt?"

Your eyes open and catch Miguel's worried stare. "No. Should it?" The man frowns and moves one of his hands to pet and paw over your abdomen. He looks unsure, and you realize this was equally new to him. After a moment, he reluctantly pulls out of you and moves to curl around your body. You were dwarfed by him as he wrapped you in his arms and drew you into his broad chest.

Affectionate was not a term you would ever associate with Miguel. He presses kisses into your hair and inhales your pleasant scent, his hand drifting down to cup your abdomen once more. As you settle into him, you look down and notice the slight bloat under his hand, like you'd pulled a muscle and were pushing it out. Fear prickles up your spine as he pets you there, your mind racing with dozens of thoughts.

Are there really eggs inside of me?

What happens when they hatch?

Miguel can feel you starting to tense, and he kisses your temple. "You'll be just fine." He churrs into your ear, making the color drain from your face. "Motherhood will suit you." He nipped your neck before laying his face into your shoulder. Miguel was giddy at the notion of any of those eggs taking. Imagine you swollen with his child, giving him a new life to love and raise, an opportunity to be a father again. It was all he wanted.

He falls asleep curled with you, his hand planted against your growing abdomen. You mourn the loss of your bodies autonomy, silently laying there in his arms while dozens of tapioca sized eggs clung to your hot womb and begin to grow. You were certain you could feel the process as it underwent. The sensation made your throat dry and eyes wet, knowing that Miguel, your captor, left a part of himself inside of you. He claimed you in every way, violating you so deeply that you knew there was no coming back.

As the day descends into night, you listen to him sleeping soundly and wonder if he was right.

If motherhood would suit you.

[aliteralsemicolon]

I'll still be here

To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. You and Spencer plan to honour your vows at any cost, no matter how insignificant or difficult the situation seems. 

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but still intended for mature audiences. You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. Not proof read.

WARNING: Light descriptions of cuts and bruises, PMS/period talk. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 2.2K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

You never felt more at peace than when you were with your husband. He’s your solace, your other half, your soulmate. You also never felt more dread than when he was away. Since his return from prison, you’ve been increasingly anxious whenever he leaves, scared that he might not return for God knows how long again. You're always holding your breath, only releasing it when you see him walk back in through the front door and immediately into your arms.

The relief you feel is instantaneous. Until you pull back after a minute, just to be greeted by shades of green, yellow, purple and blue staining various parts of his visible skin. Your smile drops when you notice the condition he’s in. Messy hair, dirty clothes, two shallow cuts on his lip and temple…and the bruises. So, so many bruises. Most noticeably above his brow, on his cheek and a particularly large one from the side of his mouth to his jaw. 

The first time he came home like this was in the early stages of the relationship. He had offered you an out, stating that this was normal with his line of work and would most definitely happen again. You assured him that you weren’t going anywhere and that you’d be there every single time to nurse him back to health. True to your word, you were still here five years later.

You unintentionally sigh, slipping your fingers to intertwine with his and guiding him to the bedroom. You gently sit him on the edge of the bed and leave him there to retrieve the first aid kit. Spencer watches you disappear into the bathroom. You’d surprised him by choosing to stay, despite the many outs you were given. He’d come to expect being abandoned at one point or another, but you stuck by him through his worst times. Without fail or complaint, you were always there. 

Something’s different today. He can’t put his finger on it exactly, but he’s literally trained to pay attention to human behaviour, no matter how skilled you are at masking your emotions, he’s better. You emerge out, making your way over to him and climbing into his lap with your legs on either side of him. He leans back onto his hands, allowing more room for you to get comfortable. Using the base of your index finger, you turn his face to one side by his chin and begin wiping his cut with some disinfectant. 

He subtly winces at the initial sting, relaxing after the feeling passes. Not a single word’s been passed between you two since the initial greeting. He keeps his eyes on you waiting for you to meet them, but you don’t. You stay focused on tending to his injuries. You’d just finished with the butterfly bandages on his temple and had moved on to the cut on his lip. 

“What’s wrong?” He whispers.

“Aside from the obvious?” You joke, tilting his head to the other side to deal with the bruises. 

You begin rubbing some vitamin K cream, trying to be as careful as possible. His eyes are still locked in on yours. You nervously chew on your lip from the scrutiny. When you're done generously applying the cream you make quick work of stuffing it back in the first aid kit. You keep your gaze lowered and Spencer takes it upon himself to cup your face, tenderly demanding for you to meet his eyes. 

The ambient lighting brings out the golden that hides in the usual brown. It’s almost impossible to hold eye contact, especially when he’s got his compelling puppy look plastered on his face. You scatter your sights anywhere else, feeling flustered and push yourself off him.

“S–stand up. I need to check the other bruises.” You gesture for him to comply as you speak.

“There are no other bruises. The paramedics already did a full check up.” He stands regardless, towering over you.

You nod as you take a step back and rush towards the bathroom again. You feel Spencer snake his arms around your waist while you put away the first aid, your body automatically leaning into his touch. He’s patiently waiting for you to look at him through the mirror, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. You didn’t know why today was different from any other time. He’s come home in worse conditions, this was actually one of his tamer returns. 

“Can you at least look at me?” He kisses your parietal, rubbing circles on your skin with his thumbs.

You forcefully take a peek at his face, throwing in a weak smile, but immediately retreat and try to walk away. He doesn’t let you this time, only giving you enough room to turn around before entrapping you between the counter and his body. He takes hold of your hands and you stare at them, letting your fingers caress his palms when he loosens his grip. Spencer observes you, desperately trying to figure out what’s causing your repulsion. 

Was it the bruises? That doesn’t make sense, you’ve seen worse. Did something happen when he was away? You didn’t sound any different over the phone. He couldn’t recall anything strange about your behaviour until he got home. Something had to have happened between the last time he called you and now. 

“Hon–”

“You need to shower. I’ll heat up dinner for you.” You’re broken out of your trance when he breaks the silence and successfully push past him this time.

You race to the kitchen, but your husband doesn’t relent, pacing after you. He calls your name a few times, but you don’t respond. His gaining presence makes the room feel like it’s shrinking. It’s when you feel him pull you by the shoulder that you finally snap. 

“Spencer, please just stop!” You spin around to face him. 

He comes to a halt, just inches away from you. The pained look on his face makes you want to beat the crap out of yourself. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap…I just– please, go shower. I’m okay. Everything’s okay.” You plead with shallow breaths. 

“Neither of us are going anywhere until we talk about this.” He pushes, knowing that if he doesn’t get you to talk now you’ll just close up. 

You were much like him in that regard, always disregarding your feelings until they exploded on a much larger scale than necessary. He wasn’t going to let you avoid this problem. Tears welled in your eyes and you bit the inside of your cheek to try and evade them. You don’t expect the choked sob that spills from you. All the feelings you worked so hard to bottle, spill and sink you down to the floor.

“Hey, shh.” Spencer comforts as he puts his arms around your body, sinking down with you. “I’ve got you, my love, I’ve got you.”

He strokes your hair, offering you a safe space against his chest to cry into. He doesn’t stop with comforting stimuli, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. The two of you stay there for sometime. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is muffled by his shirt, but still audible.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He reassures, a hand still in your hair.

You pull out of his embrace, still sniffling and look up at him through clouded lashes. You feel slightly pathetic, but there’s no judgement on his face. Only empathy and adoration. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m probably just PMS-ing.” You mumble.

“Premenstrual syndrome is very common, in fact 3 out of 4 women have or will experience PMS in some form. The physical and emotional changes you experience with premenstrual syndrome may vary from just slightly noticeable all the way to intense– I’m rambling, sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” You sadly chuckle. “You know I like when you ramble. Plus it’s a welcome distraction.”

“I know that…my point is that even if that’s the case, I won’t let you use that as an excuse to invalidate your feelings. Please, talk to me. Say whatever’s on your mind.” He speaks so softly, it makes your heart ache. 

“It’s not a big deal…” You begin and Spencer gives you a look to shut down the negation. “I guess it– the bruises, Spence. I don’t know why, but seeing you like this…it’s difficult today.”

“It’s not just today.” He exhales, shaking his head. “This is something that’s been going on since…I got back. From prison. We haven’t talked about it yet, but maybe we should.”

He wasn’t talking about the whole prison situation in general, the two of you had discussed that not long after his return. Spencer’s well aware of how antsy you get since then, even though you try to hide it. It’s why he texts you every chance he gets and makes time to call you, even in the middle of an investigation. 

“There’s nothing to talk about. I knew what I was getting myself into long before all of that.” You shrug, not wanting to give him a reason to offer you a chance to leave.

“Yes…but, that doesn’t make it any easier.” He counters.

“Spencer, I swear to god if you try to give me another out–”

“No. No more outs. You’re stuck with me. I want us to find a way to make this easier for you.” He chuckles lightly, rubbing soothing patterns on your forearm. 

He was so gentle with you, always finding some way to remind you that he loves you. If not with his words than with small touches. Though you didn’t see it as a small gesture by any means, knowing how he usually recoils from physical touch with others. 

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t think it can get easier, you know? Seeing the person you love more than anything come home like this. Especially when you don’t see them for days to begin with. I mean imagine if it was the other way around.” You confide, biting your lip from the nerves. 

His tongue darts out of his lip, an indicator that the gears in his head were turning. 

“That’s fair.” He nods. “Then maybe…it would be easier if I came home everyday? And not like this?” 

You pause, trying to comprehend what he means. 

“Are you implying that you resign from the BAU?” 

“If that’s what it takes.” He confidently replies. 

“Spencer, you love this job. I can’t ask you to leave it for my sake. I mean this is your life’s work.” You remind him.

“True, there was a time when the job meant everything to me.” He smiles, briefly reminiscing. “But that changed the second you took me as your husband.” 

Your heart threatens to leap out of your chest. At the same time you wonder if this is a cry for help. You never thought you’d ever hear him say he’d leave the FBI. Your concern must be plastered all over you, because Spencer feels the need to reiterate. 

“I love this job, I love you infinitely more.” 

“I only want you to quit when you’re ready to quit. Not for my sake. All I meant was that I want you to be a little more careful out there. I can’t lose you.” You’re dumbfounded by his admission and resist out of guilt. 

You never wanted him to choose between you and his work. 

“You won’t lose me. I’ll be by your side for the rest of our lives, the same way you’ve been by mine since I met you.” He drags you into his lap, pulling you impossibly close.

“That’s not a choice you can guarantee.” You scoff playfully.

“No, but it’s a choice I make regardless. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for as long as you’ll have me.” 

He wasn’t going to budge. Spencer would do anything for you. He’d already given over a decade of his life to the bureau, the rest of it was yours. 

“I don’t want you to quit until it’s something you want for yourself. Just promise me that if things get too intense or dangerous, you’ll step back for a bit.” You throw out a compromise and drape your arms around his shoulder, prompting him to wrap his arms around your waist. 

“I promise. As long as you promise me that if it becomes too much for you to handle, you’ll tell me.” He’s looking at you as if you’re the most rare jewel on the planet, which to him, you are. 

“I don’t want to make you leave.” You oppose, running a hand through the base of his locks. 

“You’re not making me do anything. I want to do this. I’ve let myself lose a lot to this job. Let me be very clear when I say that I won’t lose you to it. I will not let it push us apart. Promise me.” He implores.

It’s so hard to refuse anything this man says when he looks at you with stars in his eyes and speaks to you in such a sweet tone. He’s your whole world and you’d do anything for him. 

“I promise.” You roll your eyes and giggle, the sound making him beam. “And by the way, I wasn’t going to let your job come between us either. Is it a pain in my ass at times? Yes, but I’ll still be here when you come home.”

“I love you.” Spencer blurts out, leaning in for a kiss.

“I love you too. More, actually” You contest.

“Whatever you say, my sweet angel.”

Spoilers: Established relationship, hurt + comfort, fluff.

AN - This is my most sleep deprived not-blurb, blurb ever. If this doesn’t make sense it’s because I wrote this without thinking about it or reading it over. There is no plot to this, it’s just a very self indulgent hurt/comfort fic that came to me in a dream (wish Spencer came to me (sorry)).  This is your reminder that I am not Spencer Reid and I do not have an IQ of 187. The facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of this story. 

Rumour has it that if you comment nothing significant happens but it makes my day because I enjoy reading what you have to say :0

Thank you for reading!

[littlestpersimmon]

I really just want to fucking vomit when I see other Jews denounce us and curse our names to be forgotten, knowing that this kind of insult is reserved for literal nazis- just because we have, principles.

Yitgadal v’yitkadash sh’mei raba b’alma di-v’ra chir’utei.

I don't know, I feel like I am going insane, living my life under the fascist duterte regime, I know my own kind can be depraved, cruel and brutal. I also have lived my life as someone who was more "jew-ish" rather than "actual jew", and I've been excluded and denied for my appearance and upbringing. I know Israel banned Yiddish and Yiddish literature but when put in scrutiny then suddenly the shoah is brought up multiple times. I've known Israel to treat white converts so much better than they treat Ethiopian Jews and other Jews of color, but when a white convert was kiIled, she was not allowed to be buried in a Jewish cemetery. Ultimately, apartheid relies on Jews knowing only one monolithic and artificial identity rather than the rich and diverse cultures we have in diaspora- Israel depends on Jews being afraid and clinging to it as indoctrinated cash cows to continue to remain beneficial to the global north, whom are funding their military.

I'm in tears thinking about how Israelis have told me I had no right to wear my magen David for having the audacity to fucking weep over the ark of bodies left before the world to see. How can so many call this bastardization judaism. How can so much of jewry turn up their noses over this. I've seen Israel do literally the same things that the duterte regime has done to fellow filipinos, I've seen both deny human rights and try to get any forces that work for human rights decommissioned, I've seen bodies pile up high because their families were too much in danger to claim them and give them proper burials, and I've seen both filipinos and israeli jews say "where is the proof that this brutality is happening" or "not nearly enough have died.", n the fact that people who have literally argued with holocaust deniers still have the audacity to say "hm! This sounds like a conspiracy! It must be fake!" When human rights watch themsleves have confirmed that idf forces left literal babies to melt into their mattresses, when the American government themselves bragged about sending exploding meat grinders to Israel, when random journalists keep having to find someone else from Gaza to be interviewed because the one they were supposed to talk with died from carpet bombing or whatever else. And so much more. Your own can do depraved and immoral things, and judaism says that you cannot stand for this cruelty. You must not!! Judaism is and will always be the antithesis of inaction!!

I know people from Egypt and people from Lebanon feel complicit just from not being able to do enough, how can so many Jews say nothing to a genocide literally being done in our names, by an ethnostate that ultimately will not care about us. Why HaShem, why is this happening!!

Y’hei sh’lama raba min sh’maya, v’hayim, aleinu v’al koi yisrael, v’imru amen.