#I’m like it needs to be perfect because it’s been so long and I want people to be happy with it instead of just happy that it’s happening

[lemotmo]

hey so this has been rotting in my brain since yesterday and I'm going crazy so I need some outside perspective

im a buddie shipper and 100% believe they are perfect for each other, but sometimes it feels like buck is a better to friend to eddie than vice versa? like buck is there for eddie all the time and often goes above and beyond for him, buck gave eddie carla, was there for him during eddie/shannon troubles (s2 christmas ep), showed up to his probie ceremony in his cast, took care of him and chris during shooting, built chris a skateboard, literally saved him in the shooting, always gives him advice on relationships (told him to prioritise his happiness over chris during ana), showed him charlie at horse therapy, was there for him with his panic attacks, and then his eventual breakdown (repairing his wall), he was there at the diaz household when eddie went to texas, helped chris when eddie was at therpay, always babysists, was with eddie when the kim fiasco went down, never judged but gave good advice, he was there when chris left and even after (eg s8 chris bday zoom party)

if we compare this with the times eddie supports buck its not nearly as extensive, or oftentime his help/time comes with strings attached, eg tsunami (gave buck chris to cheer him up, but also got free childcare (twice)), with the poker (used his maths powers, but also helped cheer him up), he was just missing mostly from buck sperm donor storyline, he did help buck with donor baby trauma and all his relationship traumas, the thing is that whenever hes there for buck its often buck instigating it, he always akss for advice/help, its very rare that eddie does something completetly selfless for buck unprompted, whereas we have so many examples of buck doing that for eddie,

it rly funny when eddie complains of buck always thinking of himself/being selfish when hes consitently THE character who cares for others more than himself, im not saying buck is a perfect uwu little baby (the lawsuit for example, but even in this case the way it panned out buck took 100% of the blame, and no one even tried to understand where he was coming from except maybe Hen), or that eddie is the devil, i just want to acknowledge that buck similar to his childhood is always giving but never getting that same energy back, and that does make him a tragic character, because even in adulthood when he does have a found family he still sometimes faces the problems he did as a child, the show should actually acknowledge that buck is so used to being treated like shit he kinda takes it from everyone, and when they do get together maybe they have a conversation about this idk, sorry for the long ass rant and feel free to maybe add some counterpoints of eddie helping buck unconditionally, but this is all i could think of

Oh no no NO no NOOOO no NO no no no NO No NOOOOOOO no NO Nonny, just NO. 🤦‍♀️😬🤦‍♀️😬🤦‍♀️

Don’t drop this in my ask box Nonny. You need to back waaaaaaay up with this. You need to get rid of this bad take, because it’s absolute garbage. 😖

It seems to me that you fundamentally do not understand Eddie Diaz and how much he KNOWS and GETS Evan Buckley.

So buckle up Nonny, I’m about to take you on a walk down Eddie Diaz-lane:

Buck doesn’t need someone to feel sorry for him or to indulge him. Buck needs someone to tell him that enough is enough. That’s where Eddie comes in. He is the one who steps in and tells Buck to stop spiralling, because that’s canonically what he does. Remember how Maddie had Buck’s friends and family check up on him in shifts after the lightning strike? Eddie was the only one who said no. Why? Not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew exactly what Buck needed and it wasn’t to be pampered, but to be understood. And lo an behold, who shows up on Eddie’s doorstep at the end of the day? Buck. Ready to commit murder because he is tired of everyone walking on eggshells around him. And Eddie is the only one who knew Buck enough to know this wouldn’t end well. He knows exactly what makes Buck tick.

He knows what Buck needs or doesn’t need. He knows that Buck sometimes gets into his own head a little too much and that is when he acts and does something small and inconspicuous that will resolve the situation.

Often times Buck only sees the worst sides of a problem and he becomes blind to the good things in life. That’s when Eddie steps in and puts him firmly back on the ground again, reminding him that he is loved by his friends and family and he’ll be okay.

Do you remember whose voice Buck heard when he disassociated in the scene with Gerrard? Eddie’s was most prominent. Why? Because he knows he can always count on Eddie to get him out of his spirals. Eddie understands him on a fundamental level. Throughout the whole time that Gerrard was the Captain of the 118, Buck was struggling while Eddie kept his cool. We saw him hovering near Buck a lot of the time, trying to give him some advice, but mostly he offered him silent support.

It’s at these difficult times when Eddie comes in and NO Nonny, this does not come with any strings attached. Yes, Eddie barged in and told Buck to take care of Chris before the tsunami, but not to get free child care. That was just an excuse, a little white lie. No, this was because he knew that Buck was wallowing in self-pity and he wanted to get him out of that pit. He told him that Chris never ever feels sorry for himself and that Buck should take that as an example. And it's exactly what Buck needed as well. Bringing Chris was a very clever diversion to get Buck out of the house and start living again. (Of course then they got caught in a tsunami, but that’s not the point here.)

The poker date had NOTHING to do with Eddie wanting to USE Buck’s math powers. I assure you, Buck is a grown man. If he hadn’t wanted to go on that poker date he wouldn’t have gone and if he hadn’t wanted to stay there, he could have just gotten up and left. Eddie wouldn’t have held it against him either, because that’s the kind of friend he is… selfless. In that episode we see that Eddie was bang on again. Buck thrived during that poker game. He had fun being the best and Eddie indulged him, keeping a close eye on him at all times. He knew exactly how to get Buck out of his funk and his spiral of self-pity.

When has Eddie ever been selfish in all of these scenarios? I’ll tell you… NEVER.

Another example: After Eddie got shot, Buck sat in that hospital chair, telling Eddie it should have been him that was shot. Eddie immediately said: OH HELL NO! He then revealed he had put in his will that Chris would go to Buck if anything ever happened to Eddie. And not just to the benefit of Chris, because we all know that boy would thrive with a caretaker like Buck, but also for Buck himself. Eddie knows that if anything were to happen to him, there wouldn’t be anyone there who understands him enough to get him out of that slump and that spiral of blaming himself. So he gave Buck a task and a goal, something to do to keep him focused and sharp. Buck would never give into self-blame if he had to take care of Chris.

Eddie has consistently been shown to be willing to step in to Buck’s messes, sitting down next to him and listening to his plight. The hospital talk after Chimney got stabbed and Buck decided it was a great idea to illegally get into Chim’s phone? Eddie sat next to him and really listened, told him that he understood, but that he was still in the wrong. Buck needed to hear that, as he was increasingly getting more and more anxious about Maddie. He needed the voice of reason.

The balcony talk, after Chim had given Buck the black eye, where Eddie reassured him that Chimney would forgive him. Sure, he did it with a joke, but again that was what was needed. That joke provided some levity to the situation. Something Buck absolutely appreciated in that moment.

Even that last scene in 8x06. Eddie had just danced in joy (and in his underwear), the bell rings and who's there? Buck, looking miserable. Eddie could have turned him away, unwilling to deal with his obvious bad mood. Instead he just welcomed him in and no words needed to be spoken. His quiet acceptance was enough to let Buck know that he would be there for him, no matter what.

Point is, Eddie Diaz KNOWS Evan Buckley to the core and there isn’t anything he isn’t willing to do for him. Nothing he has ever done for Buck came with strings attached.

And as for Buck helping Eddie out and doing all of the things you listed? That’s just the way Buck loves. He loves completely and wholly. Once you are a part of his family, he will go above and beyond for you, no questions asked. He goes to bat for Eddie again and again. Him and Chris are two of the most important people in his life and Buck loves to give selflessly to the people he loves.

So taking care of Chris, babysitting him? That’s not a hardship for him. He does it with love and joy. Showing up for Eddie with his leg in a cast? Eddie never asked him to do that. He decided to do this because of love. Helping Eddie out during and after the breakdown? He willingly stepped into Eddie’s mess because that is the way Buck loves.

I could go on and on about this, but I’ll end it here.

Bottom line is this Nonny…

NO! Eddie doesn’t wait until Buck comes to him to ask for help. He gives him some time, yes. But then, when he sees him struggling? That’s when he steps in to help him out, to care for him, to love him the way Buck deserves to be loved. The only selfishness Eddie indulges in is that he WANTS and NEEDS to see Buck happy again. Because seeing Buck happy? That is what makes Eddie happy.

So NO, he has never treated Buck like shit and he never will. Neither has anyone else on the 118 by the way. Buck was treated like shit by his parents, that’s true, but the moment he stepped into the 118 he found his family. And they always treat him with the respect and love he deserves.

I’m not going to get too deep into the lawsuit arc, because I think both Buck and the 118 made some mistakes there, but in the end they got through it, which is what a good family does. Eddie was a little prickly in the beginning sure, but he had good reason for that. Buck had hung out all of his dirty laundry to that stupid lawyer. But they got through it and their bond became even stronger. At the end of that arc I do feel like everyone in the 118 understood Buck a little better than before. So did Eddie.

So NO. They don’t need to have some kind of conversation about this ‘imaginary’ problem you think they have Nonny. They do however, need to sit down and have a conversation about what they want out of life and how to go on from there. Them having been friends for so long, the switch to become more than friends is huge. They definitely need to talk about that and about Chris’s part in that as well. Whatever decision they make and take in life, Chris will be a part of it.

*deep breath*

Okay, I feel like I got out of my system what I needed to get out.

Listen Nonny, I appreciate you taking the time to drop something in my ask box and asking for some outside perspective, but in the future? Maybe keep these very bad and wrong takes about Eddie Diaz out of my ask box and just post them on your own blog? I’m sure you’ll find people out there who will agree with you, but I am decidedly NOT that person.

Thank you kindly. 😌

[vettelsvee]

YOU'RE NOT HANNA, AND NEVER WILL BE HER | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests/ask me anything!

red bull sebastian vettel x reader, nico rosberg x reader

word count: 6588

summary: 2010 german gp post race party has many things in store for seb and y/n, who finally do what they both been willing to do for a long time even they're dating hanna prater and nico rosberg

warnings: everything related to gender-based violence (main trigger warning to physical and mental abuse) from nico to y/n (reminder that everything you read on my blog is fiction), curse words, "cheating", mentions of suicide and cancer

a/n: i'm quite scared and happy at the same time to be posting this fic because it's one of my favourite parts ever on history series, but still has me so worried you might not like it because of all the topics (and because history series was originally posted on wattpad and not many people liked it but don't let anyone know that pls). anyways, let me know your thoughts on this one and request anything you might like if you want pls! i'll probably be posting tomorrow another part since my town is currently on high risk alert of floods and we've been told not to leave home. let me remind you that comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! thank you so much <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

2010 Hockenheim   German Grand Prix  

You paused for a moment in front of the bathroom mirror as Valentina finished your makeup. You leaned forward to get a better look, but the your woman followed your movements with perfect synchronization and, surprisingly, without messing it all up.

Your own reflection was completely unrecognizable to you. In front of you stood a beautiful, self-assured Y/N, looking like someone who possibly had a life that, while not perfect, seemed enviable.

You feared that a simple layer of makeup could make you feel completely different from reality. It was as if all your problems had suddenly vanished, and instead had in front of you a superwoman admired by everyone, not a twenty-something whose life was falling apart.

Valentina Martínez, the girl standing beside you with whom you’d had the opportunity to become closer, was one of the Mercedes catering managers and, also, exactly the complete opposite of you. Valentina had a beauty that everyone could admire and a confidence that many, including yourself, would love to have. She could lift others' spirits with just a smile and a few words that, while not wise, were good enough to make sense.

The Argentine radiated the kind of magic you felt you lacked.

So, when Valentina’s gaze fell on yours as you continued to admire how beautiful you felt.

“Come on, Y/N!” Valentina shouted, stepping away from you and starting to bounce on her feet. “I know this isn’t your thing, but I swear you look incredibly hot.”

“Valentina…”

“None of that,” she interrupted, “you need a bit more confidence. I don’t know how you don’t have it with Nico already. He’s totally worth it!”

As Valentina’s smile grew wider, you sighed and lowered your head. You thanked her as calmly as you could for trying to transfer some of her positivity, though you knew it was somewhat of a show Valentina put on for everyone and wasn’t doing anything particularly special for you.

That was what you liked least about her: Valentina was so well-liked and appreciated by everyone that, somehow, she always played the same role, regardless of who she was with.

“I don’t know why I’m going to a party I definitely don’t want to go to,” you confessed with honesty.

Today’s race had been quite tough, and although the strategies were solid, they didn’t seem to deliver the expected results when Seb only managed to get bronze in his home race. That’s why all you wanted to do at that moment was order a good room-service dinner and eat it under the bed sheets while watching some low-budget TV show before trying to get some sleep.

"You know that stepping out of our comfort zone is the best thing," Valentina said, moving closer to you and gently taking your hands. "Besides, you're doing this for Nico," she insisted. "Remember: he's your boyfriend, and it's your duty to make him happy."

You smiled shyly even though, deep down, you shivered a bit at the tone Valentina seemed to be using with you. It was as if she wanted those last words, it's your duty to make him happy, to penetrate your mind and stay there. You tried to ignore it, as it was probably your own insecurities taking over. And, in some way, you knew Valentina wasn’t wrong. She was aware that you needed to stop being so perfectionistic and rigid, and maybe start letting yourself go a little bit more.

"You're right, yeah," you finally said. "Thanks for everything."

Without saying anything else, you left Valentina’s room to head back to your own, just a couple of doors away, not without first gathering the clothes you had been wearing earlier while your friend continued getting ready.

As you took out your room card from the small purse hanging from your shoulder and swiped it to enter, you started feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. However, the moment Nico Rosberg, your boyfriend, came out to greet you and looked you up and down, hands on his hips, all of it disappeared.

"Are you seriously going out dressed like that?" he asked, completely incredulous, pointing at your dress. "You look like a slut."

You were speechless, though part of you wanted to say everything she was feeling. Once again, fear caused you to shrink back, cautious about your actions and the possible consequences. The tone he had used on you was filled with anger and, above all, disappointment. You knew that nothing good would come from answering, so instead you held back everything you wanted to say to him.

“Nico, it's just a dress…” you tried to explain as calmly as possible, not really knowing how to make him see reason without losing your composure.

He stepped closer, and his eyes filled you with nothing but fear. You could swear that, in his fury, the bluish hue of his eyes had turned an orange-red, like fire; his pupils, fully dilated, were what sent you into internal panic.

“I don’t give a damn fuck if it’s just a dress,” he mocked you. “I don’t want you going out like that. You know there’ll be consequences.”

Be careful how you act with me, he had told you one day when you said you weren't in the mood to go out to have dinner. Since then, though you had realized many things he did to you, you’d also started to act with caution and rationality, knowing that blows could come at any moment.

You’d even considered that there was a remote possibility that you might be the one to end things, especially every time you recalled every single insult he used to hurl at you whenever you misbehaved, which had only increased in frequency in recent weeks, following your father’s death and your trip with Seb to your hometown for the funeral.

But, most especially, when the Red Bull Racing driver stayed a few days with you because he was absolutely worried about your mental health getting worse.

A lump formed in you throat as a few tears began to fall freely down your face, ruining the makeup your friend had taken so much time to apply and had turned out so well.

“If you don’t change your clothes right now and put on something that makes you look like a decent person…” He threatened, moving closer with his hand raised. “Think carefully, Y/N: I don’t want to go crazy, but I think you're forcing me to.”

You couldn’t let fear paralyze you at least, not now, as you felt his hand inching closer to your body. Another physical mark that would eventually fade, but another one that would leave a psychological one permanently.

"Please, Nico, don’t do this…” you begged, completely desperate by this point, but trying not to show it. “You said you loved me just the way I am and…”

“I just can’t believe you’re so stubborn! Don’t you get that I don’t want you going out dressed like some desperate girl who clearly wants to fuck with everyone?!” he yelled, filled with rage.

You backed up as much as you could until your back hit one of the surrounding walls. You had encountered this version of Nico before: no matter how hard you tried to reason with him, he would manipulate you until you ended up thinking it was entirely your own fault.

“Please, Nico, don’t shout. I don’t want anyone to hear us…”

“They’ll hear us if that’s what you deserve for wanting to embarrass me,” he shouted again, even more furious.

You knew the tension had reached its peak and that, from there, things would only worsen. 

Nico kept yelling at you. With your eyes squeezed shut and your hands pressed over your ears, waited for the familiar sensation of one of his limbs landing on any part of your body he fancied at that moment.

“Oh, so now you have the nerve to ignore me?”

When you heard him clearly again and saw his hand raise, you somehow found the courage to turn away and quickly slip into the bathroom, forgetting to lock the door in your haste.

“Open up right now!” he screamed.

While he pounded on the door, his yelling relentless, you leaned against the farthest wall, as if he might burst in at any moment. 

It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. 

You gasped for air in a place where there seemed to be none, your hand instinctively clutching your chest as if to shield your heart, which felt like it might burst out at any moment. You had learned to live with anxiety and panic, and both emotions had reached a point where they didn’t control each other but had fused, learning to coexist together with you.

“Nico… I’ll change my clothes,” you said, still crying, your voice choking. “I’m sorry, really,” you lied, trying to sound as convincingly as you could. “But please… don’t hurt me.”

Not again.

Your whispers seemed to have reached him because his pounding and labored breathing quieted. You hoped that the situation had calmed, and it seemed like it had.

He didn’t answer immediately, instead giving you enough time to remove the ruined makeup from your face and apply just a little mascara. A few minutes passed, enough time for you to relax and consider the possible outcomes of what might happen next, before he coldly demanded that you open the door.

You emerged and collided with his chest. Forcing yourself to look up at him, all you could see was contempt.

“Once again, you’ve disappointed me,” he stated without a hint of hesitation. “No wonder why lots of shit happens to you and people treat you so poorly. I was wrong to judge Vettel: he was right to treat you that way, and he should’ve done even more to you.”

All you could do was lower your gaze and head toward your suitcase on the floor, trying to pick something that would be ok with Rosberg’s dress code while reminding yourself that Seb did things quite bad, but he seemed to be truly sorry and apologized many times to you. The beautiful red dress, strapless and embellished across the chest, falling just above your knees, had to be replaced by another dress of the same color, but one that reached your ankles, with a much higher neckline and looser fit, so as not to highlight your nearly nonexistent curves.

“Happy now?” you asked, with as much disdain as you dared, even knowing he might match your face to her outfit.

“If you behaved like a responsible adult, yes,” he muttered as he opened the door and took your hand forcefully. “Sometimes I forget you’re only twenty-two and you have a lot to learn about life.”

Did he really know more about life than you did after all you had to go through?

That thought lingered in your mind throughout the journey, from their floor’s hallway to where the party was held, including the elevator ride where they encountered Mark Webber and a journalist from Sky Sports Germany, Eloise Schimdt. During the conversation between the four of them, though you remained silent, you had to pretend that everything was fine, even as your insides felt like they were shattering further.

As they entered the venue, the music, louder than she liked, started to throb in your ears. Your eyes opened wide to adjust to the dim lights from the spotlights, and, as you always did when in a public place with Nico, you began scanning the scene in detail.

There were more people than the space could comfortably hold. The dance floor was packed with people moving energetically, glasses in hand with the sole mission of keeping the alcohol from spilling. The bar was just as crowded, and in the center, across from shelves stocked with every type of liquor imaginable, she spotted Kimi, Fernando and Jenson with their respective partners, chatting animatedly.

But your eyes didn’t seem to waste any time and ended up settling on the guy standing a bit farther away from the others.

Sebastian was leaning back against the bar, tapping his left hand on it to match the rhythm of the song playing. In his other hand he held a glass of what she assumed was, possibly, a Jägerbomb, his favorite drink and, to him, a must-have for parties like this. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans with those Geox trainers he always wore, and his hair was completely tousled.

In that moment, you felt utterly captivated by him, and you were sure you would have dared to talk to him if his eyes hadn’t been fixed on Hanna. The blonde girl was a few steps in front of him, dancing seductively without caring where she was or who might be watching her.

You couldn’t help but wish, at that moment, to be her.

You shook off those conflicting thoughts as soon as Nico grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you, snapping you out of your trance, to head toward the bar.

"Give me a Martini," he said abruptly to the bartender, "and some water for her. She’s a bit dizzy," he lied to stop you from drinking, as he often did every time you went out.

"A Jägerbomb if you can, please," you ended up telling the guy behind the bar with your best smile.

You completely ignored the words and looks Nico was giving you. Instead, you just flashed your best smile at the bartender, who kept looking at you with concern, along with the rest of the people who weren’t too intoxicated yet and had overheard your boyfriend’s words.

"I can’t believe you’re drinking again… Can’t you control yourself or what?" he snapped.

He pulled you aggressively close, and you tried you best to ignore his words, spoken in a threatening tone directly into your ear, while you took your drink from the bar, along with his, and offered it to him.

Surrounded by people, you felt a bit safer than usual. He wouldn’t be able to hurt you, at least not physically, in front of everyone here… His reputation would be ruined, and Nico Rosberg was too proud to allow that.

So you didn’t stay silent.

"Nico, leave me alone for a few hours, please," you replied, ignoring his comments. "I’m here to enjoy the party you were so insistent on coming to, not to get scolded for wanting to have fun with you."

"Damn it, Y/N!" he expressed in frustration. "Do you always have to ruin everything or what?"

You just lifted your glass to avoid spilling your drink and walked towards the dance floor, leaving Rosberg behind, hurling insults you decided to ignore.

As soon as you found yourself among the crowd, greeting familiar faces with a friendly smile, you let yourself get carried away by the rhythm of the music. Tonight your shyness seemed nonexistent, and you could only thank the alcohol for giving you the confidence you had lost. You started to lose track of time as you danced, and though you didn’t know how, each move helped free you from the intrusive thoughts of loneliness and worthlessness, of feeling like nothing more than a mere object, which had crowded your mind at a dizzying speed.

You knew that mixing liquor with the energy drink that funded your lifestyle was only a temporary fix and that, once the effects wore off, your life would return to the completely chaotic state you had come to deserve.

Suddenly, the music stopped, as did the bodies moving on the dance floor. A spotlight focused on the stage, where Seb stood, microphone in hand and swaying. There was no doubt that he was drunk.

His swaying body made it clear that he had no idea what he was doing and that, at some point, he would end up regretting something.

"Sorry, sorry!" he said into the microphone. "But I feel like making a little pause in this party we’ve got going tonight because I want to sing a song to someone I care about a lot."

You began to feel terrible as Vettel gestured to the DJ for the music he wanted. A few seconds later, the first chords of Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars was the only sound echoing in the room.

"Babe, this song is for you, and I want you to know how much you mean to me!"

You could see Hanna smiling broadly and shrugging. You wanted to leave to cry again at the beautiful scene unfolding in front of you, of which you definitely weren’t the main character.

Was it too soon to say that the boy you were in love with dedicating a song to his girlfriend hurt worse than any blow your current boyfriend had ever given you?

Yes, it was clear. Possibly, the alcohol had already taken too strong a hold, and you could no longer control what you said or thought.

You know I'd never ask you to change  

If perfect's what you're searching for  

Then just stay the same  

So don't even bother asking if you look okay

You felt confused and didn’t know what to do, but Sebastian’s voice, trembling and making his English accent sound more German than usual, had you completely captivated.

So did Prater's reaction when the German shifted his gaze from her to you.

“This is for you,” he said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. “I know you know who you are, and I want you to know it’s all for you, and that you deserve the absolute best.”

When I see your face  

There is not a thing that I would change  

'Cause you're amazing  

Just the way you are  

And when you smile  

The whole world stops and stares for a while  

'Cause, girl, you're amazing  

Just the way you are

You noticed Hanna moving to your side, visibly confused and clearly uncomfortable with what was happening.

“Y/N…”

She couldn’t say anything else, nor could you to her. As much as you wished to be Hanna, you couldn’t help feeling sorry for her at the strong possibility that her boyfriend was confessing his feelings to another girl right in front of her.

Or, at least, that’s what the alcohol led you to believe.

“I want you to know that, from the first moment I saw you, you’ve been in my heart,” Seb admitted, his words drawn out, uncaring about the reactions of those around them, especially his girlfriend’s or yours. “Right now, I can’t have what I want most, but I want you to know that being with you is the only wish I’ve made, and the one I’ll keep making on my birthday, until we can finally be together.”

That was the last straw. As quickly as she could, trying in vain to hold back tears and avoid drawing attention, Hanna left, thoroughly embarrassed, muttering something you couldn’t catch. Seb's voice still echoed in your ears, but you tried to ignore it because you couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Lost in thoughts, you moved as far away as you could, trying not to stumble. Then, you made your way to the bar to order another drink, as if that might somehow make you forget what had just happened.

Just before you could exchange words with the bartender who had already served you so many drinks that night, you felt someone take your wrist, though this time much more gently. You knew it wouldn’t be Nico; when you turned around and saw Seb, however, you were even more surprised.

Your eyes met, and butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. Once again, you felt at home and safe, though deep down, you were only afraid.

Without saying a word, he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

In that moment, you felt everything fade away. You let yourself go, unafraid of who might be watching or what might happen next. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss… your first kiss. 

Slowly, calmly, and, as you felt, full of affection, you stayed that way until you both needed air.

You felt that you had both been waiting for this moment for so long and, in a way, you deserved it, turning a simple gesture of affection into something unique and special, caring little about your partners or your sobriety.

Seb pulled back, his hands still resting on you, and your gazes shared in complicity about what had just happened. You knew he was happy but confused, just as you were. You didn’t know what to say, and knowing he didn’t either, you simply gave him a shy smile to let him know everything was okay, that he could do that a thousand times more from now on.

“Y/N…”

“What is it, Seb?”

You wanted him to tell you he loved you, that he’d left Hanna, and that he wanted you to be his new girlfriend, the love of his life.

But, instead, Seb looked at you and left you, once again, speechless:

“You’re not Hanna… and never will be her...”

After he said that, you felt nothing but your breath slipping away and the sensation of fainting.

You wanted to tell him everything you felt at that moment, but his words had hit you so hard that they only increased your confusion and pain.

All you could do was stare at him, likely making a fool of yourself with the amount of tears clouding your vision. Silence took over, and when you finally found the strength to speak, trying to hide the pain you knew your voice would show, he turned away without even saying goodbye.

"How the hell could you do that, Y/N?! You have no shame! You humiliated me in front of everyone. Kissing Sebastian like you don't care about your boyfriend... now I see what you're really up to."

You didn't have time to say anything or leave because Rosberg came running towards you, grabbing your arm with a force you'd never seen in him. It hurt, and your scream, which was more of a complaint from the pain than a surprise, was a way of expressing how much you were hurting, not just from the tight grip, but also from the shake he'd just given you.

"Nico, please, calm down..." you tried to calm him, not wanting to embarrass yourself. Some people were already looking at you, and you wished Earth would swallow you up. "It was just..."

"Don't play innocent!" he shouted too loudly. "You thought I wouldn't find out?! I saw you kissing that piece of shit who only wants to fuck you until he's bored of you," he said, referring to Seb. "Now everyone here knows what you really are: a whore! And I'm glad, Y/N… You have no idea how glad I am."

The music suddenly stopped blasting, but your boyfriend's anger didn’t.

"Nico... I love you, really," you tried to speak. "It was just a moment of weakness..."

The moment of weakness was exactly what you were feeling now, making him believe you were truly in love with him when, in fact, you were only staying in the relationship because you were afraid your reputation wouldn’t make it out alive. 

"You say you love me? Don't make me laugh! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t act like this."

You wanted to tell him that you thought the same about him, but you held back, paralyzed again by the fear that your mind was processing all the bad things that could happen.

"Nico, come on. You don’t have to act like this. We can talk about this civilly."

As you saw Edward, Vettel’s personal trainer, appear, and pull Nico a bit away from you, a little peace returned to your body. You gave him a grateful look, to which he just answered by nodding.

"You don’t have to get involved, Eddie!" your boyfriend shouted. "Stay out of our fucking business!"

"You know you don’t have to treat her like this," he said seriously.

"She’s a whore, can't you see it?" Nico spat, pointing at you. "Disgusting little girl..."

"Nico, I understand you're angry," Patterson spoke again, after the German’s words, "but neither of you is in a state to talk about this, and this is not the right place," he said, referring to the curious looks around them.

You could only constantly whisper for them not to fight anymore, while deep down you prayed to take you away from all of this and bring you back to the hotel.

"I don’t care what you say," Eddie started. "I'm taking Y/N. I don’t think being here is the best thing for her."

After saying that, he stood behind you and guided you, putting his hand on your back, toward his car. At that moment, your desperation was so great that you didn’t even think about whether he was in any condition to drive.

The way back to the hotel, less than ten minutes away, felt eternal.You hadn’t drunk much because you didn’t like it, but not being used to it was enough for a couple of curves and a badly taken roundabout to make you gag and feel like vomiting.

Slowly, the shock began to set in, and you started to act on autopilot mode, following the directions of the man accompanying you, except when he told you it would be best for you to sleep in his room that night.

You didn’t know why, but that set off alarms in your confused brain. The last thing you wanted was to add fuel to the fire by sleeping with another man who wasn’t your boyfriend just to protect you.

"Thanks for everything, Eddie, really, but I think it would be best if I went back to my room to sort things out with Nico."

The Brit didn’t seem to agree with you.

"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but I don’t think it’s best for you to share space with him tonight," he was honest.

"I just want to talk to him and try to put an end to this," you insisted, still knowing you weren't right.

"And I understand you, really, but right now everything is too fresh, and the best thing is for you to rest and let the drunkenness wear off," he said, placing one of your arms over his shoulders. "Come on, I’ll take you to my room."

You decided not to argue anymore because it would be in vain, so you let yourself be guided while he lectured you about how you shouldn’t be intimidated by Nico and how you deserved someone better than him after what had happened at the club that night.

"Edward, Y/N. Good night, guys."

You lifted your gaze and saw another Brit. Jenson was standing in front of you, coming out of the elevator you were about to take. You were greatly surprised that he wasn’t with his girlfriend, but didn’t want to get involved; your alcohol-soaked self, however, wanted to gossip.

"Where are you two going?" he asked, crossing his arms and blocking the elevator doors so they couldn’t pass.

"I’m... taking Y/N to my room," Eddie revealed, stammering a bit for no clear reason. "She’s had a rough time, and it’s best that she doesn’t see Nico’s face tonight."

"And you think the best thing is that you take her to your room?"

Button’s features went from relaxed to a kind of aggression you had never seen in him. It’s not like you had spent much time or had many conversations together, but you knew the situation you were now involved in wasn’t what you had thought it was.

Edward Patterson stayed completely silent.

"Do you want me to call someone to be with you?" Jenson asked you directly, giving you no other option. "Y/N," he insisted again, "who do you want me to call to stay with you tonight?"

"Britta… please," you said as best as you could despite your discomfort.

To your surprise, while Jenson dialed the phone number of the woman you now considered your friend, Eddie let go of you and reluctantly pushed the driver, still leaning against the elevator frame, to leave. He didn’t even take the time to say goodbye to you, something that seemed to upset Button quite a bit.

"Hello, is this Britta?" Jenson began, speaking into the phone. "Great, yes. It’s Jenson. I’m with Y/N, and she asked if you could help her," he started explaining. "I don’t know much about what happened, except that she’s not feeling well and needs help from someone she really trusts," he clarified.

After exchanging a few more words, Jenson led you back to the lobby, where Britta appeared just a few minutes later in a bathrobe, espadrilles, and her hair tied up in a completely unusual way. You had never seen Roeske like that, and all you could do was laugh.

"Come on, let’s go already," Britta said, linking her arm with yours as if you were two old ladies heading to bingo. "This is how I want to see you: laughing, not crying."

When Britta opened the door to her room, you immediately ran and threw yourself onto the bed. Your whole body hurt, and you weren’t sure if it was from the emotions of the night or because the alcohol was hitting its peak.

Whatever it was, you knew perfectly well that lying completely still, face up, and counting the total number of tiles on the ceiling, pointing at them one by one with one eye closed and your tongue sticking out was what was making your hostess laugh.

"Come on, Y/N, get up," Britta asked gently. "Do you mind if I help you get changed? It’s time to put on your pajamas."

You nodded as you sat up and moved to the foot of the bed.

Next, Britta unzipped the dress, and you noticed how she averted her gaze to give you some privacy while offering a nightgown.

"Right now, I’d love for Seb to be the one undressing me to fuck me. God... how I’d love Seb to make me scream now..."

Had you said that out loud?

"What did you just say?"

Britta’s muffled shout and the tone in which she asked, while turning her back without caring whether you had already put the garment on, making you realize that yes, you had said that out loud.

Your first time being drunk was going to be, definitely, a night to remember. Now, you just felt like saying those kinds of things, and you didn’t care at all about having a boyfriend… if he could even be called that.

"Oh…" you said, stretching the last syllable. "Didn’t you know it?"

"Know what?"

By the tone of voice, it seemed Britta thought it was related to the sudden thing you had said.

"Seb and I kissed," you told her, starting to laugh like a lovesick teen.

"This is the alcohol on you, I’m sure of it," Britta said, running to get a wet towel and starting to wipe it across your face. "You mean you and Nico kissed," she tried to correct you. "Seb is dating Hanna, and you’re dating Nico, remember?"

You started shaking your head constantly, about to collapse to the floor. A laugh started escaping you as you couldn’t control it.

"No, no, no, no," you denied while also wagging your finger. "Seb and I kissed. Nico’s an asshole."

"Y/N, you really should go to sleep, you’re not..."

"Of course I’m fine!" you said enthusiastically, getting up from the bed and standing in front of Britta.

The truth was that you only felt fine because of the effect alcohol was having on you. If it wasn’t for that, you would be crawling on the floor crying because you knew you had reached a point where you couldn’t pretend your life was perfect anymore.

"Do you really not believe me when I say that not only did Seb kiss me, but it was the best kiss of my life?"

You knew you were putting Britta in a tough spot, especially considering that the woman was probably closer friends with Hanna than with you.

"And Hanna?" Britta demanded to know. "Was she there, or had she left?"

"Oh, she was there?" you tried to pretend the best you could, using expressions that clearly showed otherwise. "I didn’t know..."

Before you could continue speaking, Britta ran to grab her phone and started making calls. You sat back down, crossing your legs and swaying while watching the blonde desperately cursing in German, since none of the contacts she called were answering.

It was possible that Seb and Hanna were busy, probably having sex. Your drunk self only wished she was in Hanna’s place.

"The only ones who tell the truth are kids and drunks, you know?"

Britta stared at you after those words. It seemed like you needed to say that phrase to make her believe you.

"Are you serious...?" Britta asked.

"What, Britta?" you insisted, urging her to speak.

"Did you really kiss Sebastian?"

You nodded.

"Yes," you confirmed. "Well, I mean, he was the one who took my face and kissed me," you corrected yourself. "Do I owe anyone something, like he owes Hanna?"

You were getting a bit defensive, and you knew it was making Britta nervous.

"Yes! You owe Nico, your boyfriend," Britta replied, giving you a harsh dose of reality.

"I don’t want Nico," you confessed. "At least, not in the way I think I should. He... I don’t know, Britta. I think he’s what I deserve. I try to understand why, but I know that his insults and those things he says to me make me a better person somehow."

You could see Britta go pale. Also, you were starting to feel worse; after all, it was the first time you had opened up about your feelings to someone since the journal Seb gifted you for your birthday last didn’t count as a personal therapist.

Britta usually had words for everything, but that day, you seemed to have left her speechless.

"Y/N..." Britta began, carefully choosing her words. "You’re a good person. You’re just scared."

"Maybe," you replied, trying not to make it a big deal. "And you, are you scared?"

"Of course. Everyone’s afraid of something."

"I’m afraid of being alone," you admitted, lowering your head because you were starting to cry again for the umpteenth time that day. "And I’m afraid of losing Nico. I know no one will ever love me, not better or worse, than he does."

Britta didn’t know what to say, and you felt bad for having to be in her room, drunk, sad, while your “friend” was putting up with you, possibly mediating between her client and her client’s partner.

That’s why you made a move to leave. Fortunately, Britta wouldn’t let you.

"Sit down, Y/N, and let it all out," Britta demanded.

And that’s exactly what you did. You told Britta everything, not just about what had happened since you started dating your current boyfriend, but about your entire life. Living with a mentally sick mother after her accident, her subsequent suicide, their move to Barcelona. Her father’s cancer and how it had worsened in less than two years. All the things Rosberg had said and done to you, even forcing you to do certain stuff you were clearly uncomfortable with.

You cried like you never had before when you told Britta about your first time, reluctantly, on a luxury yacht in Monaco’s seas, and how it gave you nightmares almost every night to the point where she was scared to fall asleep.

You could tell that Britta was truly worried when you started biting your lower lip, and a little tic appeared in your right eye.

"Have you talked to anyone about this?"

"Do you know I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her?"

You were fully aware that you had just avoided answering a crucial question, but you didn’t care at all. You were tired of talking about your burdens and your current life; from now on, you would focus entirely on your future and try to solve and finish once and for all all the problems that made your life a mess.

"But what are you saying, Y/N?" Britta asked, desperate.

"That’s exactly what I would have liked to ask Seb, but he left and Nico messed things up," you revealed, stretching your arms out and pointing to the marks, now red, that were the same shape and size as Mercedes’ driver’s fingers. "Great, yeah," you said ironically.

"But..."

"Do you think if I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her, I might have a chance to date Seb?"

Your question left Britta speechless again, unable to find the words. As Britta struggled to speak, you started playing with your fingers. Giving up, you laid on the bed, your back to Britta, clutching a pillow with the clear intention of falling asleep.

"Why are you telling me this?" Britta asked in a whisper, almost with... pity.

"Because I want Seb," you revealed, letting out a sob because, at last, you had been able to confront and reveal your confusing feelings for a guy who didn’t love you, and never would. "I’m in love with Seb, and it hurts knowing he’ll never love me back, and I know I’ll have to move on sooner or later."

Britta was about to speak, but you took the words from her before she could.

"Before you say anything else, take advantage of me and ask me anything you want: I’m a bit drunk because I’m not used to drinking."

You could tell Britta sighed, likely having lost all patience with you.

"You know... you know that Seb...?"

But then Britta stopped talking. You stood there for a while, staring at the red curtains that covered the window, waiting for the woman to continue. When she didn’t, you turned around:

"You know exactly what about Seb, Britta?" you asked, adjusting yourself on the bed, still hugging the pillow.

"Seb and you need to talk," Britta told you, leaving you speechless. "And when you do that, I’m convinced that you’re going to live the life you both deserve."

"But..."

Britta started to lie you down on the bed again, tucking you in under the linen sheets. Your yawns became more frequent, and after she kissed your forehead just like her mother used to do before your life was destroyed, your eyelids grew heavy.

"I know you won’t remember this tomorrow," Britta’s voice flooded your ears as you curled up into yourself. "But, to Seb, it’s more than obvious that you’re not Hanna and you’ll never be… And that’s exactly why that stupid, but incredible guy, has fallen truly, madly, deeply, in love with you."

You couldn’t tell if Britta’s words were already a dream, or if Morpheus was pulling you into his arms. 

"The day you stop doubting your worth, the world will be at your feet, Y/N. Sebastian has been telling me that and his closest people since you two spent the night together the day before his maiden win in Monza."

[takamiwife]

hawks x pregnant reader?... either his kid or someone else's doesn't matter, as long as he's loving sweet and spoiling tf out the baby ❤️ he would be soooo good w postpartum care. im sure he's helped deliver kids in emergency situations - 🌕

thank you for the request! this is adorable <33 sorry this took a while </3 schools been kicking my ass

but anyways

this man is literally meant to be a father

when you told him you were pregnant, his reaction was: “we’re having a baby?” (shocked) -> “we’re having a baby?” (terrified) -> “we’re having a baby?!” (over the moon ecstatic)

your pregnancy wasn’t planned, so admittedly he was very nervous. he always expected to have kids when he had taken a load off of his hero work, and as soon as you asked if you two should reconsider, he immediately stopped you

“no, no, no. i’m.. i’m ready. as long as you are.”

of course he wifed you up IMMEDIATELY

he can’t have you walking around with his baby without a ring on your finger!

for a short period of time, it was extremely stressful and hectic. you wanted to get your wedding done early on in your pregnancy so you could still fit into your dream dress, and keigo was balancing trying to work a lot to try and make the city the most secure he could for when the baby arrived while also wanting to be home with you, but you two found a way to do it. you postponed your honeymoon until a few months after the baby was born (hey, you’d need it then anyways), so the beginning of your marriage was filled with baby-proofing your now shared apartment and setting up a nursery

everyday when he’d wake you up, he’d kiss you on the forehead, then on your growing bump

this man would come home EVERYDAY with baby stuff, “i saw it in a store while on patrol, wouldn’t this be perfect?”

plus, he’d find the exact vitamins you should take and got them for you, wanting you and the baby to be as healthy as possible

he’d insist you don’t lift a single finger, especially since you went through a lot of stress early on with rapidly planning your wedding, but you convinced him to let you be able to help with the baby’s room

whenever you two are alone together, his hand is like, CONSTANTLY on your stomach

he cried when he felt the baby kick

you guys would celebrate every trimester with a little cake with candles on it

you often got late night cravings, and you always told him not to worry about it, but he insisted because he just so happened to be craving the same thing, so it really wasn’t a problem

rubs your back and holds your hair during morning sickness, and is so patient with you with mood swings

when you really started to show and you couldn’t fit into your old clothes, you broke down crying about how you felt so bad about yourself, and he was genuinely so confused because you had never looked more beautiful to him

nevertheless, he took you out shopping the next day for maternity clothes

he’d love buying onesies and bringing them home to “show off” to the baby, aka holding the onesie up to your stomach

“just remember that daddy picked this one out for you, not mommy, so this one has to be your favorite, okay?”

“you are gonna be the best dressed baby in town”

he’d also have the room filled with toys

“oh, i just saw it in a store window and thought it’d be perfect”

you actually had to stop him bc you were quickly running out of room

he’d have your hospital bag packed and ready by the door a month and a half before you were due

so when your water broke, this man was READY

he was right next to you the whole time, encouraging you and letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed

so when the baby was finally born, you handed them to him, and he was so, so scared

it all suddenly felt so real

and the baby looked like a perfect combination of the two of you. but they had your eyes. your perfect, loving eyes

he tried to bite back the tears as he gently brushed his finger along the baby’s face

“hey there.. i’m your daddy.. nice to finally meet you, you’ve been giving your mommy lotsa problems these past few months, kiddo.”

he’d kiss their head, still trying to hold back tears. he promised himself that he would be the best goddamn father he could be. better than his deadbeat dad ever could be. your baby would never doubt that they were loved, they’d never wonder where there next meal would come from, and they sure as hell would never be scared of him

postpartum was a bit hard for you, but keigo was there every step of the way. he was a boat in a dark sea, and you knew that you weren’t going through it alone. he got as much time off of work as he could to try and be there for you and the baby, but he still never felt like it was enough

he’d always make sure you knew you were absolutely adored no matter what your brain was telling you, and made sure to take as many of the responsibilities off of you as possible on particularly hard days

not once did you get up at night to feed them or change their diaper. he would always immediately turn the baby monitor off, creeping quietly down the hallway to their room, and would stay with them as long as it took for them to get back to sleep. he was used to having a fucked up sleep schedule, so this was no problem for him

he takes pictures constantly

everyone at work is constantly getting updates on the baby, and you guys started taking monthly family photos, which he rotates out on his desk

you guys know how (unfortunately) a lot of women have to beg their husbands to take care of the baby so they can go shower?

well that’s not you

as soon he gets home, he scoops the baby up, telling you that it’s your time now

“i’ve been gone all day! it’s my turn with the baby, go on, i already started the bath for you” and the bathroom has lit candles, a bath bomb in the warm tub, and one of those little bathtub desk things for a drink and an ipad (yall pls know what i’m talking about 😭)

it’s a constant competition for the baby saying “mama” or “dada” first

one day, the baby just would not. stop. crying. no matter what you guys did, it seems that they would never cease. overstimulated and running out of ideas, keigo strapped a baby wrap to his chest and stuck them in it

“keigo, what are you doing?”

“we’re goin’ for a ride. it always helps me calm down”

“wh- you can’t take the baby flying!”

“they’re my kid, they’ll be fine!”

“oh my god- okay, don’t go too fast, or i swear to god-“

“relax, baby, i got this” he flashed his charming smile at you, and you only sighed

“be back in one piece, okay?”

despite being known as the man who’s too fast for his own good, keigo enjoyed a calm, slow flight. as soon as he hit the air, the baby seemed to immediately stop crying; and as the baby looked up at him with those big, round eyes, keigo realized just how lucky he was to be able to fall in love with those eyes twice in his life

“there ya go kiddo, i knew you just needed some air. just like your dad, hm?”

and he had never felt more proud

[girlz4jaem]

OUR PATHS | 11. dubs in the chat (wc: 1k) cw: mentions of cheating

JAEMIN arrived at your room within five minutes of your request, carrying a handful of your favorite snacks and the little comfort items he’d used with you the last time a storm had kept you up. as he took off his slippers, settled in, and began prepping a quick late-night meal using the dinky hotel kettle, you couldn’t help but feel your heart melt the tiniest bit. not only had he taken you up on your offer to come by, but he’d also remembered exactly what you needed on nights like this.

you both ate the instant ramen he brought over, the two of you sitting on the edge of your bed. the silence between you felt heavy, like there were words piling up but no clear path forward. yet, the ramen was almost too good for midnight, and in its own way, it helped ease the tension. it was hard to admit, even to yourself, but this was exactly what you needed. his quiet, steady presence and his little gestures of thoughtfulness, even after all this time, still made a difference.

after a few moments, you noticed jaemin watching you as you finished your last bites, a pensive look in his eyes. suddenly, he spoke, his voice almost catching, as if the words were slipping out against his own will. “i’m sorry. and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

your eyes widened slightly, not expecting the conversation to start like this—or even tonight at all. you tried to brush it off, hoping to avoid the inevitable heartache that you knew this talk would bring. “is this what you’ve been meaning to say the past few days? you already apologized, no?”

jaemin shook his head softly, his gaze still fixed on you. “y/n, you know that’s different... why do you keep trying to push me away?”

you took a deep breath, focusing on the ground, summoning the strength to finally open this door back up. “you really broke my heart, do you know that?”

his voice was quiet but determined. “let me be the one to put it back together, y/n, please. i really am sorry for everything. i’m sorry i didn’t get to show you how much you meant to me when i had the chance.”

a beat of silence passed, and you took a shaky breath. “do you even want to tell me why you left? because you never did. you left without saying goodbye, and that fucking sucked. i wish you would’ve at least broken up with me in person.”

jaemin’s shoulders tensed as he processed your words, his face contorted with regret. “i know. and, god, i am incredibly sorry. i know this is all still confusing and frustrating for you, but you have to know i never stopped loving you. i still love you. i just... i needed to figure things out about myself.” he paused, as if bracing himself, then continued. “a couple of days before i sent that text, i ran into my ex on a work trip.” he laughed bitterly. “it seems like I’m always running into my exes…”

he continued on,”i don’t know if you remember, because i barely mentioned her when we were together, but we were together for a long time, and she cheated on me. our relationship was messy and toxic, and she left me with a lot of trust issues and self-doubt.”

jaemin’s voice faltered briefly, but he continued. “when i saw her, i found out she’d actually signed up for the work event on purpose, just to give me ‘closure.’ but instead of helping, it brought back everything. it was like i was reliving all of it—how we ended, how messed up that relationship was. it made me realize that i hadn’t really dealt with any of it, and that i’d brought all that baggage into what we had. i needed to work through it, but i thought that would hurt you more than just ending it.”

he looked up at you, his eyes pleading. “how could i love you properly if i hated myself so much?”

your voice was barely a whisper. “but why didn’t you just tell me all of that, jaemin? i didn’t want perfect. i wanted you.”

“i know,” he replied, the weight of his guilt clear in his expression. “i shouldn’t have just left without even attempting to have a conversation. but after what she put me through, i didn’t want to put you through the same thing. i didn’t want you to feel like you had to deal with my issues for me. and, knowing you… you would’ve done just that. you would’ve sacrificed your needs and happiness for me, and i’d been in that exact position before. it always ends badly.”

the room fell silent as his words hung in the air. finally, jaemin continued, his voice softer. “i regretted it as soon as i sent that message, though. i tried to reach out, to fix things, but you blocked me on everything. i even tried to see you in person, but… ryujin told me to stay away.”

you let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “oh god… ryujin… of course.”

he hesitated on his next words, but ultimately pushed through it. “i know it’s not enough to make up for what i did. i know it’s not going to change how much i hurt you. but i need you to know that i really am here, and i’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.”

your eyes locked onto his, the vulnerability in them matching your own. “you hurt me, jaemin. and i don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to get past that.”

he nodded, his gaze dropping. “i get it. and if you want me to back off, i will. but if there’s even a small part of you that wants to give this another try, then… let me prove that i’ve changed.”

after a long moment, you finally whispered, “i’ll forgive you, jaemin.” you lowered your voice even more, “i-i still love you too.” jaemin perked up at that note. “but i need you to really show me that you mean it. prove to me that you love me the way you say you do.”

his eyes softened with a glimmer of hope. “i will. whatever it takes.”

the storm outside continued, but somehow, you felt a little more grounded.

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NOTES | omfg sorry friends i've been so busy but mayhaps this hella long and long awaited chapter is worth it!!!! TAGLIST (open!) | @polarisjisung @tommina @luvv4bby @222low @luluvhs @spideykeyring @dudekiss3r @sunghoonsgfreal @jeonghansshitester @injunnie-lemon @eternallyhyucks @njmluvr @n0hyuck @junviadinho @hyunnies-world @hahaechans @p4tyaraujo @baeseungcheolie @untilthesunrises @lotties-readings @mango-bear @angelicaleex @jungaji @luvvhaechan @lionzyon @y4wnjunz @luvandletter @applejaem @pikibell @keeryverse @botchedbrat @mystverse @t-102 @skzfairies @andyprkmyluv @gomdoleemyson

bold = couldn't tag

[boundbyeclipse]

hiii can you write smut number 5 with current James????

black velvet

genre : smut

word count : 1227

tags : current!james, female!reader, age difference (not specified how much), reader is a tattoo artist, a little rough james, semi-public sex (i think?), that’s about it

from the prompt list : 5. “don’t cover your mouth. i wanna hear you”

a/n : sooo i saw a photo of James getting a tattoo done and i thought hey, that’s a perfect idea for one of my requests! it really stuck to me and i had to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one x

‘Poison’ by Alice Cooper played in the background after you returned from your dinner break at work. You hummed along to the lyrics while lightly bopping your head to the beat. You absolutely loved rock and metal, so the playlist used at work always consisted of bands who did exactly those genres. It always gave you motivation and boosts for some energy, no matter if you were sad, angry or irritated.

While preparing for your next client, the sound of the entrance door opening and closing reached your ears. Technically, it was just a bit too early to show up, but hey, this one’s a regular and you didn’t mind at all.

“Hey there” you greeted him while putting some black gloves on your hands.

“Hey. Mind me showing up before I should?”

You gave him a warm smile, shaking your head left to right.

“Nope. You can come take a seat actually, I’ll go print out the tattoo and get more ink”

“Alright” James smiled back, hanging his jacket on the rack and making his way to the big, comfortable leather chair. He watched you walking around and you didn’t quite pay any attention to him, at least at first. Or, you just didn’t want to.

No matter how many times you’ve done tattoos on this man in the past few years, there has always been some sort of a tension between you both. It wasn’t anything like what you’ve had before with other men. They might have complimented you, made you smile, even blush, but none of them put you in such a vulnerable position with their presence alone. And there have been many times where his eyes would pierce right through you in the middle of getting his skin drawn on, creating the impression of him wanting to do some things to you. The lust was purely emitting from him the whole time. And you cannot forget about those moments when his fingertips would brush against your skin, making you shiver and think of scenarios in your head that were not so innocent. Sure, he was much older than you, but that didn’t stop either of you from craving each other every time.

Not too long after, you were already seated next to James, with his hand extended out as you were drawing lines on his skin.

My, oh my, did those large hands of his drove you insane.

“You got any more people coming after me?” he suddenly asked, his blue eyes hinting at something.

“Nope, you are the last one today. Puts my mind at ease knowing my last client is a regular. No need to overthink”

One side of his mouth curved up into a small smirk.

“Are you sure your mind is at ease? Because I can feel you’re all tensed up”

You swallowed and bit your lower lip hard after he said that. Trying to hide your growing frustration, you giggled.

“Maybe I am, I’ve been here since seven in the morning, you know”

He cocked an eyebrow up, not quite believing what you were saying. James could clearly see how you bit your lip, adjusted in your seat and giggled due to getting thrown back by his comment.

“It’s kind of easy to tell that it’s not because of the work. You don’t need to hide it”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and your body froze for a moment before you looked up at him and asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you secretly think about all the possible ways I could use my hands on you,” you could not believe what he just said, but it was totally true, “it’s written all over your face. Even your body language gives it away with how you shake, squirm in your seat, how you breathe heavier when I’m around. I know you think of me”

“James, don’t-“

“Just finish the tattoo first, then you can explain yourself”

Not even ten minutes later, you had your body pinned against the door of your break room, with no way to escape the tall man who hovered over you. His hands roamed your body while he kissed your neck, sucking on the sensitive spots to make you even weaker. The way he held you by your hip against the door made you so vulnerable and so turned on, that you could not help but moan into the heated kiss.

With one swift move, James opened the door behind you and the both of you walked backwards, still all over each other until the back of your calves hit the lounge couch that was in the room. James helped you with taking your shirt off, leaving you in a black lace bra. You sat down and watched James from below, eyes full of desperation and need, looking right into his own. He removed his shirt and tossed it away, unbuckling his jeans and unzipping them, then hovering above you as he laid you down slowly, but with rough kisses and a tight grip on your waist.

Your hand reached into his jeans and you cupped him through the fabric of his underwear, giving it a couple squeezes as James groaned in response. He was big, thick and hard, and you could feel yourself getting so wet that it started to hurt. You really needed him.

With no clothes left on your bodies, he was now inside you, moving his hips as he watched your face, loving the way your eyes rolled back with each thrust. The way your back arched, your naked bodies touching against each other, it put you in such a trance. Every second of it - you just loved.

With your moans becoming louder, you felt a little embarrassed, and your hand found its way to your mouth to silence yourself. But James wasn’t going to let you hide.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you”

Carefully, he took your hand and now had both of your hands pinned above your head. Your moans filled the room as you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to feel every single inch of his length in you. Almost to the point where you could barely take it.

“I can’t- I can’t take it”

“Yes, you can. Just hang on for a little bit more for me, okay?”

You gave him a nod in response, eyes watery and lips parted as you breathed heavily, your high hitting you right then and there. It happened so quickly, that you could not even tell James that you were close.

Another moan slipped out of his mouth as you coated him in your juices, your walls pulsing whilst he was still inside you, able to feel everything.

“Almost there” he told you as he gave you his final thrusts before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. Both of you were panting, with small beads of sweat on your foreheads and hair all messed up. But as soon as you got your breathing back to normal, it was time to clean up and go home. Though, James just wasn’t quite keen on leaving you so soon.

“I’ll give you a ride back home, so don’t worry about taking a bus in this weather” he gave you a warm smile as he put his jacket on and waited for you at the entrance door.

[edwinspaynes]

I've spent most of my writing time working on chapter 3 of Now We're at the Starting Line (I Did My Time) this month. The good news is that the chapter will be out on the 15th as planned! The bad news is that I didn't write anything for Crystal week.

Luckily, this chapter has a Crystal-and-Edwin scene in it that I'm extremely proud of! I'm posting it independently a few days before the chapter for @crystal-week, because I love our little psychic so much and want to post something for her.

Starting Line spoilers under the cut!

CONTEXT: After getting home from an awful meeting with her mother, Crystal finds herself crying on the stairway of the Agency building. Edwin, after a rather emotional moment with Charles, ascends the stairs and sees her there.

-

Crystal should go home. She knew that she should – her bed would be a great distraction right now, and the promise of a night sleeping beside Niko’s ghostly form was a comfort. But she didn’t want to go home to Niko a crying mess, so she sat on the stairs between the parking lot and the Agency above with her knees pulled to her chest.

Her mom really didn’t care about her. She didn’t give two shits what happened to her daughter. It had never been clearer to Crystal than it was today, and it had already been pretty fucking clear.

You have twelve minutes, she had said.

This conversation has been a perfect waste of time.

Crystal, I’ve let you have your little delusion for long enough.

She should be beyond sadness. She shouldn’t be such a baby. She was Crystal Palace Surname Von-Hoverkraft, and she’d always been a force to be reckoned with. Not just psychic, not just magical, but strong. Emotionally sturdy. Reliable.

Even if her memories didn’t feel like her own, she recalled feeling that way. Powerful.

And, apparently, she couldn’t catch a break. Not even to have a good long humiliating cry on her own. Because the last voice she wanted to hear sounded behind her, echoing through the rickety stairwell louder than she’d ever wanted it to. “Crystal?” Edwin sounded weirdly worried. “Are you… crying?”

“No,” she said. “Someone’s fucking chopping onions.”

Edwin sat down beside Crystal gingerly, lowering himself with his hands awkwardly. He cocked his head to the side and hummed. “I can in fact recognize when you are being sarcastic,” he said. “You are not particularly subtle.”

Crystal snorted. “Did you think I was trying to be?”

“I do sometimes,” Edwin said lightly. “Perhaps not now, though, as you seem rather… tense.” He paused. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly stiff. “Would you like to… discuss your particular malady?”

Crystal touched the buns in her hair, one after the next. She was already crying, and Edwin knew it. She might as well talk to him. What was the worst he could do?

And, as much as she hated admitting it, somewhere deep inside her she knew that she and Edwin were birds of a feather. Crystal might as well talk to him, right? Besides, she didn’t really care what he thought about her. He’d see her, and he’d be honest. Maybe that was all she needed right now. So she took a breath and said, with absolutely no prelude, “it was my mother.”

Edwin’s response was short, and his voice was light. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Crystal said, grateful for his brevity. It made her feel like she could go on. “When Charles and I met up with her today, she was… I don’t know. A real asshole, honestly. But I hate saying that. She’s my mom, even if she was super clear that she didn’t want to see me.” She paused. “Did you know that she only gave me a fifteen-minute appointment? I’m her daughter, and she gave me a fifteen-minute scheduling block.”

“That is… less than positive,” Edwin agreed in an oddly sympathetic voice.

“That’s very British of you,” Crystal told him, and he smirked. She did, too, but felt her face fall again after a few seconds. “Just… and, like, I don’t want to bitch and moan about it, even if I’m speaking to the world record holder for bitching and moaning.”

“Now you are just needlessly instigating,” Edwin said, but there was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. “A well-known facet of your personality, to be sure, but unnecessary right now.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Well, like I was saying, I don’t want to gripe too much, but like… she didn’t care that I was missing. She didn’t even fucking notice, and neither did my dad. What kind of parent doesn’t even notice when their child is missing? What kind of parent doesn’t even give it a second thought when they learned that their kid was a literal missing person?”

She was angry. She was indignant. But Edwin was looking off into the distance, his expression calm and contemplative. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back for some reason.

Which sucked, because one of the reasons that she liked Edwin – though, ugh, why would she think that – was that he never bit his tongue. But his face was careful now, even if his eyes shone with some unidentifiable emotion.

“What is it?”

Edwin turned his head toward her, his shoulders rolling. He assessed her with an almost practiced nonchalance before speaking. His voice was kind, but there was an undercurrent of anger in it that Crystal didn’t understand.

Not yet, anyway.

“I do actually know something of that,” Edwin said. “Believe it or not.”

Crystal blinked. “What does that mean?”

Edwin paused. He opened his mouth once, shut it, and shook his head quickly. “When I went to Hell - ”

“God, Edwin,” Crystal said. “I know that what’s happened to me isn’t as bad as literal Hell. You don’t always have to compare.”

“I’m not,” Edwin said. His fists clenched and pressed together on his lap. “I am very sorry that I have given you reason to believe that I am.”

All the fight went out of Crystal then. “It’s fine,” she said.

“Might I go on now?”

“Fine.”

“When I went to Hell,” Edwin continued, “my disappearance was labeled an Act of God. I believe I have told you that, but… well, I have had decades to contemplate the implications of that, and to research precisely what the declaration entailed.” He paused. “One facet of such a statement is that I was not looked for. Not by anyone. Society at large, to be sure, but I do not care much for the opinions of that lot. I do, however, care that my family abandoned my search.”

“Jesus,” Crystal said.

“Yes, I do believe that is a likely reason that no one searched for me.” Edwin’s voice was saucy, but Crystal sensed an undertone of real hurt. “They did not even start, in fact. I was an Act of God from the day I went missing. To this day, my death is what Charles calls a ‘cold case.’ I remain unburied, and my mother and father could not even be bothered to purchase an empty casket for me despite their abundance of money.”

“That sucks,” Crystal said sympathetically.

“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “It is not an ideal outcome. And I know that you think me unemotional, or cold. But remembering that no one around me cared to search for me – it is the only time that I remember that I was once a person.” He cocked his head. “But this is not about me. It is about the truth that you are far from alone in your sentiments, and-” Edwin made a vibrating sound with his lips, his eyes wide. “Well. That is rather enough emotion for one sitting. I daresay that I had far too many feelings after… well. I shall have to find a way to cleanse myself of it.”

Crystal snorted, and in that moment, she felt a bit herself again.

Then, to bring the mood back to something adjacent to normal, she turned toward Edwin. “Did you know that when I was born my mom signed my forehead?”

Edwin gave her an odd look. “With one of those… magical markers? Whyever would she do that?”

Crystal laughed slightly. “No, it was a temporary tattoo of her signature. It was like I was an art piece they were curating. They wanted to make some weird statement online.”

“Your internet is indeed an odd place. A wealth of knowledge, but also a wealth of independent publications waiting to be ridiculed.”

Edwin sidled off the stair next to her wordlessly and walked away, up the stairs and toward the comfort of his books and notes. Crystal watched him go, and he never turned back.

And she knew what she had to do.

She couldn’t give up, not for herself. Not just for her own sake, though that would have been a pretty damn good reason in itself. She had to understand her powers for Charles, for Edwin… and for Niko, who had been lighting her up inside in a weirdass way lately that she didn’t even understand. She had to know who she was, even beyond her memories, and if Maddy Surname wasn’t going to help her…

Well, fuck her.

Aicha, she thought, are you there?

Her eyes went white as Aicha responded.

Always, my sweet child.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Are your requests open? If so, can you write for yandere Qin Shi Huang with an S/O who's very rebellious and lazy? It's okay if you don't want to 😭 I barely see any Qin Shi Huang fic here.

My requests are definitely open, just slowly getting through everything! But anyway. Yes, I absolutely can since I like Qin too. He’s actually quite the good boy AND he’s hot so golden. We’re an emperor/empress! Damn, I’m jealous!

Qin Shi Huang- My Deadweight

Qin Shi has expectations of you. Just because you’re the new powerful and influential emperor [/] empress of China via your unwanted marriage to him, doesn’t mean that you get to be so… immature and vile in front of his people and in front of Valhalla itself. He is aware that you’re not much of a fan of him but he’s giving you a luxurious life millions dream of without asking for so much from you

Is giving your love and loyalty and passion to him, in exchange for all this, so hard for you? He has learnt that it is clearly is…

He’s displeased, watching sharply and disgusted from behind his white mahogany red-centipede detailed blindfold as you relax on you and his velvety expensive bed whilst shooing off all the palace’s servants to give you privacy… he suspected better from you. Why are you behaving so childish?

Qin Shi genuinely believes that living like a powerful royalty of one of the World’s most mighty countries has gotten to your head and you believe you’re above everything, even the responsibilities and requirements you have as his Emperor [/] Empress. You’re stubbornly disregarding them all to laze around and rest about like a sloth…

The Chinese emperor is outraged you’re daring to behave like this. He spent so much time and resources into kidnapping you, obsessing over you, moving you from your designated living quarters built into the Valhalla to his magnificent palace, to marry you to him and fulfil his intense love for you. Become his and make you his permanently, even through this death battle tournament and here you are, dismissing it all for your own comfort

He won’t let this slide at all. He may love you deeply but he loves you more when you’re not being a disrespectful slacker… and he wants that person back. He’ll get you back, even if he has to use extreme measures

Qin Shi has zero limits on what he’ll do to make sure you’ve been modelled to the most perfect ruler to work together with him to maintain China, do you think he does? He is fully aware that you’ve missed up by being rebellious and selfish like this. And he doesn’t plan to let you stay this way, he needs you better for his beloved nation

Qin Shi’s around the corner of you and his shared suite of a bedroom, thinking. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s already quite strained any chance you’ll love him but then again, he’s providing you with the life of a royal. You’re not anywhere near related to a royal family but still, you’re gonna birth him a heir one day and you SHOULD love him for that

Especially for how amazing of a husband he is!

No other man can be a better husband for you so there is no reason you should be a lazy rebellious brat when you’re literally a King [/] Queen. Do not be so greedy, love. He’d let this go if it was only occasional but it’s not, you’re constantly rejecting everything to sleep all day. Pathetic

That is what his twisted lovesick mind tells him. That it’s your fault you’re behaving this way when it’s just your attitude. It’s just who you are, but to Qin Shi, it’s a purposeful stab to him as your husband. That you’re acting out, when you were so obedient and calm only a few days ago, to spite him…

He is just so unhappy… he really suspected better from you and he was hoping you’d stay that timid silent sweetheart from before. That is his favourite version of you, when you do everything for him— but he fails to realise you only behaved that way because you were terrified for your life but you long learned he’d never truly put his hands on you

Your rebellious nature is just apart of you but your laziness, whilst also somewhat natural, is kinda fulled by your depression since being forced in this situation after you had shown respect to Qin Shi passing by him one time in the many halls of Valhalla by helping direct him to the correct Lounge for Einherjar’s champions

Had lead to him stalking you, sending his servants to give you gifts, until it lead up to your kidnapping under the cover of midnight. All because he fell hard for your elegant and witty demeanour, the way you behave in public and he got addicted to it quickly. So much, he ignores Alvitr’s advice altogether

Qin Shi quickly bared a charming smile, he’s such a charismatic comforting figure as the King of Kings he is that he buries away all his inner rage and humiliation so expertly that he seems as if he’s had a absolutely wonderful day. He pretends to walk away from the wall hiding off the open golden-lined door of the bedroom before walking up to it, in order to trick you into thinking he wasn’t listening in

You look up bored and irritated from being so engaged in a fascinating book that you’ve gathered amongst the big nearby bookcase in this big beautiful artistic suite of a bedroom, meeting the hidden eyes of your forced husband. Your finger shining by the opulent gold and diamonds of your earring ring

Qin Shi, radiating elegance and strength effortlessly, strolls over to you with his loving smile. He may be furious at your rebellious lazy demeanour but he can’t help but soften up at how beautiful you are and his extensive possessive obsession flares up almost instantly. He makes it besides the silky thin blanketed clad bed before sitting down on it politely

Speaking up after admiring you openly for a few long seconds with you barely even responding as you’re quite use to him gawking you all the time like you’re the Mona Lisa within a deluxe gallery, he is internally planning on how to properly meld and form you into the correct ruler for his vast territory

His hand reaches over for yours, his middle and ring fingers sheathed in shining golden nailguards, which is slightly sharp so it kinda grazed against your silky soft skin as he grabs your hand in his much bulkier and veiny palm. Showing his love via the intimate connect, feeling your own cute golden dual nailguards on your index and middle fingers

Qin Shi hopes you give him a minute or two of your time to hear him out. He deserves your time as his husband whilst you couldn’t be more excited for him to leave you alone. You never wanted to be bombarded with the duties of being the secondary ruler of fucking China itself… you never asked for this and you know he does not care about your opinion at all. He only cares about himself!

His hand holding yours is uncomfortably tight as his clingy protectiveness is kicking in. He doesn’t want to lose you, he doesn’t want anybody looking at you. You’re his and only his

“Qīn'ài de… I’ve noticed that you’ve been rather unmotivated. Unmotivated to improve for the sake of our empire and I want to fix that issue. C’mon, up you get. Let’s go outside together, let’s talk”

[alsofoundinpeas]

I Don't Need To Know

Summary: Spencer Reid has no choice but to watch the love of his life fall in love with another man. 

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Major character death. HEAVY angst. Bittersweet ending? Graphic depictions of violence (for maybe two lines). Fingering (f receiving). P in v sex/unprotected sex (in terms of a condom, birth control is mentioned). Loss of virginity (both m and f). Creampie (god I hate that word ugh!!). Slight age gap (roughly five years). Argument scene that may be triggering for readers that have experienced SA or manipulation from a partner (nothing of that nature actually happens, but just in case).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

A/N: This is inspired by Will He by Joji, so I highly recommend listening to it while reading. I cried several times while writing this, but I felt it needed to be done so here it is. :’) Please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :)

I got knots all up in my chest… Just know, I’m trying my best…

Spencer had always found the saying “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be” absurd. He couldn’t fathom willingly letting go of something he loved on the off chance that it would come back to him. Not after having everything he’d ever loved ripped from his clutches throughout his lifetime. To him, love wasn’t about releasing someone to see if they’d return. It was about holding on as though his very survival depended on it—like a feral cat finally finding food after days of hunger, sinking its teeth in and never letting go, no matter the cost. 

It wasn’t until today that Spencer finally understood the meaning of that stupid phrase. And he wished with every intricate thread of his being that he didn’t. 

Five years. Five long, agonizing years had passed. So why was he here now? Why, after what felt like an eternity of pleading for just one more moment with her, did the universe decide now was the time to give him what he wanted? 

Ironically, the timing only drove home another phrase he’d always hated: “Be careful what you wish for.” 

There she was, as beautiful as the day he’d met her, sitting in the corner of what had once been their favorite café. The sunlight streaming through the windows catches on her ring, the enticing glinting of the jewelry drawing his eyes away from her face momentarily. His heart is in his throat. She’s still wearing the wedding ring he’d given her, twisting it in the same nervous fashion she always used to. 

And there across from her is a man that isn’t him making her smile. 

‘Cause when you look… When you laugh… When you smile… I’ll bring you back…

Spencer Reid had never been a particularly angry man. He had his moments—who didn’t?—but he usually considered himself level-headed, patient. But now, watching Y/N hide a bashful smile behind the rim of her mug as she gazed at the man across from her, all Spencer could feel was rage. Raw, unbridled rage. It flared up inside him as her head tipped back, the sound of her laughter crashing over him like a tidal wave, stirring his veins with a violent rush. The same sound he’d yearned to hear again for five fucking years. And it was all because of him—Ben. 

That was his girl. His perfect, beautiful girl. The love of his life. His angel. 

All Spencer could do was stand there, feeling every broken shard of his non-existent heart pierce his chest. 

And now I’m sad… And I’m a mess… And now we high… That’s why I left… That’s why I left…

It wasn’t meant to be like this. Spencer had never wanted to leave her. But that choice wasn’t his to make. 

That cold, cruel September night six years ago had robbed Spencer of his very existence. 

Everything that could have gone wrong during that case did. The bullet wasn’t meant for him, but he took it anyway. He had traded his life in exchange for JJ’s. It wasn’t even meant to be heroic. It wasn’t done out of love. It was just instinct. It’s who he was as a person. 

Was. 

The word leaves a bitter taste in the back of his throat. Because that’s his reality now. He was a person; an agent, a professor, a son, a husband…

Now he’s… well, that he didn’t quite understand. As a man of science, Spencer was stumped by what he could even call his existence now. Calling himself a ghost felt silly—he felt as alive as the day he’d died. And yet, that was essentially what he was. A whisper of the person he’d once been. A soul caught between worlds. 

Spencer could still feel the exact moment his soul wrenched free from its physical tether to the world. Even recalling it sent a shiver down his spine. It hadn’t been peaceful, as so many people claimed in interviews. No… it had been agony in its purest form; white hot and searing as his very essence clawed its way out from his ribs. There was no light waiting for him to step into it and find peace.

Instead, he had watched helplessly as the team he called his family swarmed his dead body, uselessly screaming for a medic as the crimson puddle underneath him grew and smeared beneath their hands as they knelt beside him. He had watched Y/N swing open their door that fateful night, the excited grin on her face vanishing as she came face to face with a tearful Emily instead of the husband she’d been eagerly waiting for. And he had watched the guilt eat away at JJ as their eyes met at his funeral, the hatred on Y/N’s face so raw it made Spencer’s own stomach twist. 

Despite the Bureau's insistence, she took charge of every detail—planning his funeral in a way that honored everything Spencer would have wanted. Y/N held Diana as she wept over her baby boy's body. She delivered a eulogy that left even Spencer in shambles. She was the first person to arrive and the last to leave, waiting until everyone had left to sink to her knees beside his casket and howl her grievances. 

For that first year, Y/N was as strong as she could be during the day. She handled everything that needed to be done, as long as the sun was still up. But when night fell, and the suffocating silence of their empty home settled in… that’s when she’d finally let herself break. 

Spencer had never been a religious man, but the year after his death felt like an endless descent into his own personal hell. He would never escape the sound of those gut-wrenching screams. He cursed whatever force had condemned him to an eternity where he could do nothing but watch, powerless as Y/N crumpled to the floor night after night, her wails so desperate it seemed as though she thought breaking the sound barrier might somehow bring him back to life. 

All he could do was stay beside her, silently pleading for his touch to somehow reach her, his hands brushing over her again and again, unnoticed and unfelt. 

Time was no longer a concept to Spencer. 

The limits of his existence perplexed him. He couldn’t roam freely, couldn’t go where he pleased—he could only follow where Y/N went. It was as if his very soul was bound to hers, linked by some invisible string that kept him tied to her even in death. It brought him both joy and sorrow: joy in the fact that he could still watch her, still admire the way she carried on, and sorrow because she would never know he was there, silently urging her forward, so incredibly proud of her strength. 

The longer he lingered, the more control he gained over his abilities. It started with the smallest things—a strand of hair lifting with the brush of his fingers, a faint chill against her skin as he cradled her face while she slept. But soon, it became more. Doors creaked open as he stepped into rooms behind her, and objects shifted ever so slightly from their places when he pushed with just enough force. 

There were times when she seemed to sense him—moments Spencer cherished more than anything. In those fleeting instances, it felt as though she could see him, even though he knew she couldn’t. Every day, rain or shine, she visited his grave, and when she spoke to him, her gaze would drift forward, as if she were looking into the honey-colored eyes she once loved. Her hands would rest open in her lap, as though she knew he was holding them. When she was home, she’d speak aloud every thought that came to mind, as though she knew he could hear every word that fell from her perfect lips. And he always responded as if she could hear him in return. That was their new life for the first year after his death. 

After a year and one day, he was gone. 

That’s where his understanding of the phrase “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be” came from. It was because she had set him free. 

One whole year had passed. The hardest year of Y/N’s life. She had knelt by his grave, laying fresh flowers with trembling hands, her tears falling freely for hours. When she finally stood to leave, her legs unsteady beneath her, she pressed a soft kiss to his headstone. Through her tears, she whispered how much she missed him, how he never left her thoughts, and how she’d never stop loving him—but above all, she wished he could be at peace. And on the night following the anniversary of his passing, her wish was granted. He had faded into nothingness, existing only in her dreams and memories for five long years. 

But now, he was back. Because he had always been hers. 

Will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips? Will your shadow remember the swing of my hips? 

Spencer remembered their first time like it was yesterday, though he wasn’t sure if he could thank his eidetic memory or the fact that it was because of how remarkable it had been for the memory lingering so vividly...

“You’re lying! You’ve really never had sex before?” 

Y/N squawked the words incredulously as she sat atop Spencer’s lap, grinning down at the stammering mess of a man beneath her. Spencer’s hands flexed against her hips, unintentionally squeezing as he took a deep breath to calm himself. 

They were inside Spencer’s apartment, having enjoyed the museum and dinner but still craving each other’s company too badly to end the night there. What started as sweet, innocent pecks pressed up against the kitchen counter had quickly devolved into ravenous, passionate kisses that had them stumbling towards the couch. It was going so well… until Spencer panicked after Y/N had whispered into his ear asking how far he wanted things to go. 

That resulted in him spewing out the fact that he, at twenty-six years old, was a virgin.

“No, I haven’t! Why is that so hard to believe?” Spencer huffs, his small smile belying his annoyed tone. 

It was their sixth date total in a span of four months, but it was their first date as an actual couple. Spencer had reluctantly agreed to let Penelope set him up on a blind date after his failed attempt at taking JJ out had shattered any of the confidence he’d built up, leaving the man petrified of taking his chances romantically again. He suspected Penelope’s pity for him was why she was setting up said date to begin with, but he quickly found himself grateful that he went. 

Y/N had been friends with Penelope for years, having bonded online over some indie punk rock band that was no longer around and developing a close friendship from there despite their age difference. When Penelope found out Y/N had moved to Virginia and was single, she couldn’t resist setting the two up. 

It’s Y/N’s turn to stammer as she quickly thinks of a response. “I, uh… you’re just so handsome that I naturally assumed you’d had sex before.” 

Spencer blinks up at her skeptically, trying to detect even the faintest clue that the otherworldly woman in his lap was lying to him. All he found was nervous adoration as she stared back down at him, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink. It suited her. He wanted to cause it more often. 

“I had, um… I graduated super early from both high school and college, so I didn’t do much dating.” 

Instead of the judgment Spencer expected to see spread across her face, Y/N simply just hummed in understanding, her eyes curious as they watched him. He’d elaborate more on his unfortunate (for lack of a better term) adolescence later. For now, he just wanted to keep from scaring the poor girl off of his lap so he could taste her sweet chapstick again. 

“I see…” Y/N murmurs before continuing, shifting forward slightly with a smirk. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m also a virgin.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened almost comically as he gawked up at her. His heart stutters in his chest, his mouth going dry. His tongue pokes out in a meek attempt at wetting his lips, his voice cracking as he responds. 

“Et tu, Y/N?” 

Oh fuck. Spencer hadn’t meant to let the lame reference slip from his mouth. She just made him so nervous that he couldn’t think straight, and Rome had been heavily on his mind since she had perched herself in his lap. Specifically Roman goddesses, because she looked like she should be amongst them on their thrones. Surely she was going to leave now—-

Loud, genuine laughter bubbles from Y/N’s lips, the noise startling Spencer as she tips her head back and her hands grip his shoulders to stabilize herself. She thought it was funny. She thought he was funny. 

“That’s, like, the last thing I expected you to say,” Y/N managed once her laughter had simmered down into giggles. “But, to answer your question… I too have really never had sex before.” 

Spencer knew that it wasn’t due to a lack of suitors. The woman was sex personified; the archetype of beauty and seduction wrapped into one perfect being. The twitching in his pants brought his attention back to the situation at hand. He could ask her later why that was. For now, he brought his focus back to her. 

In an uncharacteristically bold move, Spencer tilted his head up to brush their noses together. “Would you… would you want to?” 

It didn’t take a profiler to notice the hitch in her breath or the almost imperceptible squeezing of her thighs around his hips. Her pupils were already blown, her lower lip trembling from what Spencer prayed was anticipation and not regret as his question settled over her. The silence stretched between them, the seconds feeling like hours in Spencer’s overly anxious mind. 

He’d done it now. He’d gone off and opened his stupid mouth and frightened the one woman he could actually see himself having a future with because the head straining against his zipper overruled the head housing his supposed genius level IQ. The apologies were already forming in the back of his throat, but they weren’t needed because she— she was kissing him? 

“God, yes. Please,” Y/N murmured eagerly against his lips, effectively clearing every cohesive thought from his brain. 

If Spencer thought her words were enough to bring upon his undoing, he was sorely mistaken. The grinding of her hips against his erection ignited something inside of him that he had no idea existed. It was feral, drowning out all of his other emotions and replacing them with one thing: primal, unfiltered desire. 

Spencer understood now why men used to start wars over women. 

With each gasp that fell upon his ears, Spencer pledged his allegiance to her. Every stuttered moan that came into existence from his hips rutting up into her clothed core fueled his devotion to her. It was animalistic, the way his hands gripped her ass and pulled her tighter against his body as his mouth devoured her now, every cell swimming through his veins screaming for more. More of her touch, more of her taste, more of her sounds... God, those heavenly sounds that had Spencer finally believing in salvation, if only in the form of her skin against his.  

Tongues danced together as layers were hastily stripped away. Layers of insecurity. Layers of self-doubt. Layers of uncertainty. Their clothes fell to the ground as though the fabric burned them, clumsy hands fidgeting with buttons and tugging at zippers with a vendetta. 

Those layers that had crumbled so easily were replaced instead with the firm knowledge that this was exactly where they were meant to be: in each other’s arms, trembling and panting as their world’s trajectory tilted so violently it uprooted them from their upright position, knocking them down against the leather cushions as their bodies attempted to mend their separated souls back into one. 

Spencer choked on the words he wanted to worship her with, so instead he used the most primitive sense he could to get his message across: touch. His lips sucked purpling reminders into the crook of her neck of what they both knew to be true now: He is hers just as much as she is his. Lithe fingers tugged the soaked fabric of her lace panties down until they landed in a heap with their other clothes. Those same fingers pause at the crest of her most intimate spot, his eyes meeting hers with a silent plea. 

Y/N found herself in the same position, her words failing her as they were strangled in her throat by the overwhelming adoration she felt for the man hovering above her. Instead of chanting her desire for Spencer to please touch her, she canted her hips up in approval. 

Her moans were swallowed by swollen lips that claimed the sound straight from her body as nimble fingers dug themselves into the deepest parts of her. Their rhythm was clumsy but steadfast, her hips bucking against his hand in jerky movements as the palm of his hand pressed against her clit. Spencer’s own hips ground against the bare skin of her thigh, shielded only by the immature fabric of his equation-covered boxers. 

Spencer hadn’t for a second thought the night was going to go like this. If he had known he’d have the definition of art itself clawing at his shoulders and panting into his mouth while he made her legs tremble beneath him, he wouldn’t have worn what he deemed his lucky boxers. At least they had done their job, he supposed. 

Their lips separated completely as a guttural moan wrenched its way from Y/N’s throat, her body beginning to thrash wildly underneath him as the tension in her lower belly coiled tighter. Spencer wouldn’t allow her first time to happen on his couch. She was much too precious for that. But he’d already made the decision to unravel her at least once while they were there, to bring her over the edge before taking her into his bedroom so that he could experience the glorious sight of her falling apart more than once tonight. 

Spencer was a virgin, not a prude. He’d seen porn before. He’d read erotic novels. Anything he could use to try to prepare himself for the real experience, he did. But nothing could have prepared him for the downright visceral reaction Y/N had as his fingers curled and brushed against the rough patch of skin inside of her that caused the tension building in her body to snap. Her cries of pleasure tore through him as her pussy clenched around his fingers, his free hand leaving its place beside her head to keep her thighs pried open. He quickly shifted up onto his knees to watch her taking his fingers as she came, taking the pleasure he inflicted upon her. 

He sang her praises while slowing his pace, cooing softly at her as he stroked her hair and worked her through the aftershocks of her orgasm. Only when she was squirming and whining beneath him did he finally remove his fingers, sucking them into his mouth greedily. Y/N’s mouth gaped open as her chest heaved, her eyes locked on Spencer as his tongue lapped over his fingers, enjoying her essence with a groan. Her body sagged into the couch, a delighted laugh spilling from her exhausted frame as she smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of his living room. 

“Do you still want to keep going?” Spencer breathed as he gazed down at her, his cheeks flushed and eyes full of something that made Y/N's heart flutter. “B-because we can stop there if you want. I just… I want to do what makes you happy.” 

Above her was the man she’d recognized, soft and timid, but now with a newfound air of confidence in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Above her was the man that she wanted more than anything. Above her was the man that she knew, without a shadow of doubt, would be her husband. 

“Spencer… if you don’t fuck me right now, then I’ll die a virgin, right here on your couch... and it will be all your fault.” 

Spencer’s hearty chuckles filled the room, his nose twitching as he grinned down at the dramatic woman. He simply couldn’t let that be her fate, could he? 

Shaking his head, he stooped down to press a gentle kiss to her nose before standing from the couch, offering her his (clean) hand. Y/N’s face twisted in confusion as she stared up at him, still reeling from the earth-shattering orgasm surprisingly given to her by the same man who’d eagerly rambled about the lore behind Doctor Who on their first date when she’d mentioned she hadn’t seen it. 

“Not here, silly girl. The bedroom,” He whispered. 

He guided her down the dark hallway as though he were escorting the most priceless treasure known to man to his bed, and in his eyes, he was. His hand stayed steady on her hip as she swayed lightly, her body pressed into his side as he opened the door with shaky hands. Any confidence Spencer had managed to muster throughout the night vanished as they crossed the threshold into his bedroom, his teeth gnawing at his lower lip gently as his courage began to crack. 

In an almost startling display of being seen, something Spencer had never experienced before, Y/N looped her arms around his neck and tugged him into a kiss that simultaneously stole the breath from his lungs and filled him with the air he needed to breathe again, effectively calming his nerves.

“It’s okay,” She reassured him against his lips. “It’s just me.” 

She walked them backward until the backs of her knees pressed into his cool comforter, taking over where Spencer so willingly handed her the reigns while he regained his momentum. She sat on the edge of his bed, her hands pressed into his hips to keep him from following after her. Her eyes met his, the moonlight streaming through his bedroom window illuminating her as though she were a vision, a figment of his imagination that he’d conjured up in the dead of night, ready to haunt his every waking moment once he inevitably woke up to an empty bed. She was too good to be true. 

Spencer’s hands fell to rest on her shoulders, just to give himself proof that Y/N was real and that he hadn’t dreamed her up or somehow followed in his mother’s footsteps and succumbed to early onset schizophrenia. 

She was real and she was here, eye level with the tent in his boxers and naked as the day she was born, her warm breath fanning across the smattering of hair trailing down from his belly button to below his underwear. His muscles tensed and twitched as she smirked up at him, pressing a tender kiss to the head of his cock through the thin fabric. His entire body flinched from that one touch, his brows furrowing together as he hissed quietly. 

“N-not that I wouldn’t love to feel your mouth on me—“ Spencer’s pitch raised as her hands found the elastic of his waistband, pulling his boxers down his legs. “But I… I won’t last if you do.” 

The fondness in her eyes quelled any humiliation he felt from having uttered those words. 

Placing a kiss to his hip, she nodded in understanding before shuffling backwards to lay in the middle of his bed, with him kneeling onto the mattress after her. The sight of her— stretched out and languid and looking at him as if she wanted to ravage him— had him sending up a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever in the universe had deemed him worthy enough of having this divine of a woman in his life. 

As Spencer reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom, Y/N stammers, grabbing his attention. He watches for a moment as she flounders over her words, his brow furrowing in concern at her sudden diffidence. 

“Are you sure you still want to do this?”

“I’m on birth control if you want to skip the condom!” 

Spencer inhales sharply at the same time she smiles sheepishly up at him, her blurted words almost making him finish before they’d even started. He holds her gaze, tracing her irises for any hint of hesitancy. When he finds none, he nods once, swallowing hard. 

“I— uh. Um...” 

It was rare that Spencer Reid was rendered speechless, but Y/N had managed to do it with just eleven words. He clears his throat, trying again. 

“Yes. Yes, I would like to skip the condom. Only if you’re absolutely sure that’s what you want.” 

“Yes. It is. I pinky promise.” 

Y/N holds up her pinky for him, the sight so endearing he can practically feel his heart melt away, dripping in a sticky mess inside him. He just grins, linking his pinky with hers before he moves to settle over her once more. 

Her fingers tangle themselves in his hair as his elbows dig into the mattress beside her ribs. The flushed head of his cock bumps against her clit as he reaches down to line himself up at her entrance, a small whine leaving her lips at the sensation. He repeats the action, dizzy from the sound of her soft noises. She was still soaked from their time on the couch, a small feeling of pride welling in Spencer’s chest at the knowledge that not only did he make her cum, but he’d kept her wet while they made it here. 

His lips meet hers in a searing kiss, the both of them quivering with anticipation at giving themselves so intimately to someone for the first time. He was happy it was her. And she was happy it was him. 

Spencer couldn’t remember a time where his mind had ever been quiet. All he knew was incessant thoughts and worries, unable to put a halt to the chaos jumbling around his brain. But as he pressed forward and sunk into Y/N for the first time, his entire mind went blank. White static crowded the spaces where various facts and tidbits of information had been stored, the only thing he was able to focus on now being the sheer ecstasy coursing through his body from being inside of her. 

His mouth hung open as his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips stilling as they pressed flush against hers. She mirrored his response, squeaking out an “oh!” as her walls fluttered around the intrusion instinctively. He throbbed in response, his head dropping to rest in the crook of her neck, unable to stop the pitiful whimper that escaped from behind clenched teeth. 

She was so tight. So wet. So warm. 

Sparks of pleasure zinged up and down his spine as he remained still, waiting patiently for Y/N to adjust to both his size and to the feeling of being filled for the first time in general. He’d wait as long as she needed him to. All he wanted was for her to feel good. To enjoy this as much as he was. 

He was a humble man, truly. But even he wasn’t too shy to admit he’d been gifted with a size that was bigger than average. Not necessarily just in length, falling just shy of seven inches, but in girth as well.  

Spencer peppered soft kisses up and down her flushed skin, feeling her rapid pulse beneath his lips. He was sure she could feel his own heartbeat pounding against his ribs from where their bare chests were pressed together. Her nipples were taut, pressing into his skin enticingly. He wanted to touch them. Taste them. But he’d wait until she was ready. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. 

At her gentle nod, Spencer lifted his head to press his forehead against hers, their lips brushing together as he pulls his hips back. The sensation of her grip tightening in his hair as he pushed forward does more to him than he’d care to admit, but he still lets her hear just how affected he is by her. With a shaky moan, Spencer repeats the motion, easing out of her before gently rocking back into her. He keeps this up for a few minutes, her sharp breaths dissolving into muted moans of her own. 

“You can�� you can move faster if y-you want.” 

Spencer’s eyes flutter shut at her words, and he’s pressing a fervent kiss to her lips before he begins to really move. The sound of skin smacking together begins to fill the air as he ruts his hips into hers, his walls bearing witness to every pleasured noise that spills between them. His pace is frenzied, his rhythm stuttered, but it feels so good that neither of them really care. 

Y/N’s nails roamed his body now, alternating between dragging harsh lines into the planes of his back and burying into his shoulders to leave little tender half moons in their wake. Spencer yearned to pull every single noise that he could from her throat, planting his hands beside her head and hefting himself up for better leverage before his lips wrapped around her right nipple. He sucks harshly at the pert bud, reveling in the desperate whimper it causes. 

Spencer grunts when she clenches around him, letting his mouth glide over to her neglected breast, his hips hammering into hers now as she cries out his name over and over. He was close… so, so close. But he needed to make her cum one more time before he’d allow himself to. He needed to know what it felt like for her to fall apart around his cock. With every ounce of willpower he had, Spencer slows his hips to a stop inside of her. 

Y/N whined her discontent at his sudden pause, her eyes opening to blink hazily up at him. “Why’d you… why’d you stop?” She panted, her fingers finding and twisting her own nipples as if she couldn’t help but to touch herself. 

Spencer muffled a curse at the sight, sitting back on his haunches as he stared down at the woman beneath him with reverence. 

“Flip onto your stomach for me, angel.”

She does as instructed, wiggling her hips coyly as Spencer grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and stuffs it underneath her hips to prop her up better, ensuring she’d be comfortable. Once she’s settled on her front, Spencer wasted no time in pressing himself back into her, both of them releasing a moan so loud he’s surprised the walls don’t shake. Thank God he didn’t have neighbors right now. 

He eased himself down so his chest is pressed to her back, lavishing her neck and shoulder in open mouthed kisses while his hips drilled into her. This angle was deeper, allowing him to plow directly into her g-spot as she writhed and begged incoherently beneath him. He laced his left hand with hers, shoving them into his mattress. His other hand stuffed itself between the pillow and her wriggling body until the pads of his fingers found her clit, his breath coming out in sharp pants into her ear. 

Y/N felt delirious with pleasure, bucking her hips back in a feeble attempt to meet his. He began whispering into her ear about how good she felt around him, thanking her for allowing him to fuck her, praising her for taking him so well… 

His words paired with his fingers circling her clit have her second orgasm ripping through her body with so much ferocity that tears begin to fall down her cheeks, her eyes squeezing shut and her hand clutching his so tightly her knuckles whitened as she wailed into a pillow, gushing around him. 

Spencer let out his own guttural moan at the feeling, spilling into her with a shout as he planted his head between her shoulder blades, his hips weakly thrusting into her as they rode out their climaxes. 

He held her until her tremors stopped. He kissed her forehead before he darted off to the bathroom to get a warm rag to clean her with. He thanked her in soft whispers as her eyes began to drift shut before he’d even finished cleaning his mess between her thighs. 

And he knew, watching the gorgeous woman before him sleep so soundly in his bed after they’d just defiled each other’s innocence, that he was looking at his future wife. 

Will your lover caress you the way that I did? Will you notice my charm if he slips up one bit? 

The air was thick with tension as Y/N stared at Ben, her chest heaving and eyes watering at the hurt look on his face. Spencer watched from the corner, his concern for his wife outweighing the jealousy he had previously felt when he watched the couple slip into her— though he still selfishly thought of it as their— bed. Y/N had been dating Ben for three months now. That made for three months that Spencer ached so heavily he’d sometimes wish he could fade back into nothingness if it meant he didn’t have to watch the love of his life with another man. 

The furthest Ben and Y/N had gone physically was a few pecks here and there, with Y/N always being the one to draw away and cut the kisses short. Ben had played the nice guy act, reassuring her that he understood her hesitance and that he’d be okay doing whatever she was comfortable with. Spencer despised him. He could see right through Ben’s facade, and if he could do more than nudge a door open, he’d make that hatred known. But he couldn’t. 

Spencer watched on with furrowed brows as Y/N reached a shaky hand over and turned the lamp on her nightstand on, illuminating the dark room in a soft glow that contrasted with the dark energy that began to cloud the small space. Spencer could see it all on Ben’s face: hurt, betrayal, anger. He could see the fear, guilt, and shame on Y/N’s. 

This was the first night Y/N had tried to push past her discomfort so that she could offer Ben more than just false promises of physical intimacy. It started slow, with soft kisses that dissolved into hungrier ones as they laid together in the dark. But the second Ben went to roll on top of her, sliding a hand down her body to pull her hips against his, she panicked. Her body jolted, and her hands had shot out instinctively to shove him off of her, leaving them where they were now in some sort of silent standoff. 

Spencer knew as soon as it had happened just why it did. She had thought of him. His guilt overruled the smug pleasure he’d felt as he watched it unfold. As painful as it had been watching Y/N move on with her life, all he ultimately wanted was for her to be happy. Spencer had been barely thirty-five when he passed, and she had only been thirty. That left almost an entire lifetime ahead for her, and even though he so desperately wanted to have lived that lifetime with her, he had to accept that that wasn’t what fate had in store for them. 

“I-I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Spencer’s jaw tightened at the same time Y/N’s dropped. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N leveled Ben with a narrowed glare, rage flashing in her eyes in place of the shame that had just been there. 

“I get that you have a dead husband. I’ve tried to be patient with you. But fuck! It's been six years, Y/N. It’s time for you to move on,” Ben seethes, his face reddening with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “I can’t even touch you without you flinging me off of you!” 

It’s as though Y/N is the exact physical embodiment of Spencer’s own emotions, physically reacting in the way that he can’t. She was out of the bed before Spencer could even blink, marching over to the bedroom door and yanking it open. Ben watches in bewilderment, his mind clearly not catching up with what was happening. 

“Get out of my fucking house.” 

Y/N’s voice is cold as she stares menacingly at Ben. When he doesn’t move, she speaks again, her voice louder. “Get out of my fucking house, Ben!” 

Ben stammers, standing from the bed and attempting to plead his case. “Babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, I just-”

“I don’t care. Get out of my house,” Y/N repeats herself, cutting off his pathetic excuses. 

Spencer smirks proudly from beside her.

 That’s his girl. 

Ben sighs, hanging his head and scrubbing his hands frustratedly across his face. 

“If you kick me out over some guy that’s been dead for six years, then we’re over. For good.” 

Spencer cackles at Ben’s proposition, though it can’t be heard by either party in the room. That was his attempt at fixing things? Seriously? Good riddance. He’d drag the guy out of there himself if he could. 

“If I haven’t made myself clear, we’re already over. No one talks about my husband like that. Now get out before I call the police and have you escorted off of my property.” 

It doesn’t take long after that for Ben to tuck his tail and leave, slamming the front door on his way out. Y/N’s steam runs out the second his car pulls out of her driveway, tears streaming down her face as she curls up on her couch. 

Spencer’s own chest twinges uncomfortably as he sits beside her, stroking her hair despite her inability to actually receive the comfort. He didn’t know what hurt more; watching his beautiful, broken girl sob and not being able to stop her tears, or being the cause of the tears himself. He had to do something, anything to let her know he was still there and that he still loved her beyond death. 

The same time Spencer stands is the same time Y/N’s tears pause, a hiccup rocking her frame before she glances up. 

“Spence?” Y/N calls softly. Spencer’s heart would have stopped right there had he not already been dead.

Spencer turns slowly from his place at the end of the couch, his eyes wide and hopeful as he responds. “Yes, angel?” 

His hope fades as he realizes she isn’t looking at him, rather her eyes are just darting around the room. 

“Spencer I… I know it’s been awhile since I’ve talked to you. And for that, I’m so sorry,” Y/N starts, her voice cracking. “I don’t know if you can even hear me. Or if you ever could. But I miss you. I miss you in my bones. I just… you were— are my everything.” 

The lump in her throat grows as the tears begin to stream down her face again. Spencer’s own eyes sting with tears that she’ll never see drip down his face. He swallows hard, making his way over to their— yes, their— bookshelf. 

“I’d give anything to have you back in my arms… I should have begged you to leave the BAU and just teach full-time if it meant I could still have you here, safe and at home. It’s not even a home without you.” 

Y/N sobs freely now, tucking her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them before she buries her head into them. 

Every ounce of grief, guilt, sadness, and anger from what his death has done to his precious girl fuels Spencer to do something he deemed impossible: he yanks the leatherbound notebook holding their vows inside of it off of the bookshelf, sending it tumbling to the ground in a desperate attempt to show her that he’s still there and that he still loves her. 

The noise causes a yelp to slip from Y/N’s lips, her head jerking up as the book hits the hardwood floor with a loud thump. It had fallen open exactly to where Spencer wanted it to: the page starting his vows to her.  Y/N crawls from the couch to the book, her trembling hands lifting the journal so that she can read the words her husband wrote to her ten years ago. With a deep exhale, she sits cross-legged on the hardwood floor, reading Spencer’s chicken scratch he called handwriting with a heavy heart. And for the first time since his casket closed, she feels a sense of peace wash over her. She was going to be okay, despite it all, because he was hers just as much as she was his.

Continued A/N: Ahh!! Ghost!Spencer my beloved. :') JUST TO CLARIFY: I am not a JJ hater!! It just fit better for the story to have her be the one this all happened for. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this fic just as much as I enjoyed writing it. I look forward to sharing more in the future with you as my blog grows <3

K <3

[walmartbrandwhatever]

There’s this one jump that Marcia can’t get right, so she works herself to the bone trying to perfect it, and every time she falls she just hears trips voice in her ear telling her that it isn’t good enough. Two bit coming to pick her up for dinner but her telling him that she can’t stop practicing, and when he tries to convince her to go with him she just yells at him- they stand there for a moment then she breaks down crying in this arms. I’m going insane.

Her falling back into the same cycle will always make me so sick. Her just not being able to land this jump. She's just utterly exhausted at that point, she hasn't eaten and she's just mentally beating herself up. OMG Imagine like this causes her to first telling him about trip and how he would yell at her and hes just utterly horrified.

Note: I was cooking so hard this turned into a small drabble so I apologize that it took me so long to answer.

Note: another thing tumblr kept deleting my work so I had to take a step back bc I got upset 😔

By the time Two-Bit enters the rink, he sees Marcia attempt some jump he couldn't remember the name of and fall. He watches her for a second, and the clear frustration is written all over her face as she smacks the ice next to her before pushing herself up and preparing to try it again. He glances around the rink, there was no one other person there than her. Making his way to the entrance of the rink, he called out to her to make sure she at least knows he's there and ended up with no response.

With a sigh, he stops at the opening of the rink and watches her try the jump again and fail it again. He knows she's too exhausted to even do the jump right. He calls out to her again, and thankfully, this time, she turns to him, her face scrunched up as her chest rises and falls far too fast. "C'mon Mar, you ain't goin' to get that jump right. Not tonight. Plus you promised me a dinner doll. " A soft smile rested on his face, and he slowly fell the second he realized that she wasn't even planning on leaving any time soon.

"I can't. I'm sorry Two, I can't get this jump, and I need to perfect it. Maybe another time."

She offers him a half ass attempt of a smile before turning and preparing to try the jump again. "You're never going to get it, Mar, not today, at least. Look, I know you want to get it, but you're exhausted, and I bet you haven't paused to eat anything. Just-"

"You don't know shit Keith." She snapped, turning towards him again. He has never heard Marcia yell, let alone at him, so it catches him by complete surprise.

"You what? Know the basics? You don't get it, and you never will. You'll just know You'll never be good enough no matter where you go!" They both just stand there for a moment staring at each other. Two-bit knows that her anger is directed towards herself. He could see the millions of voices screaming at her, telling her the exact words she just told him. For a moment, she reminded him of Darry. God knows how much that boy works himself into the ground. There was one time after a long practice where Two had tried to get Darry to take a break. Darry had turned and yelled at him. At first, Two-bit was hurt, but standing their wide-eyed, he had seen the pain and anger Darry had, and now here he was standing and looking at Marcia, who held the same look in her eye. Well the anger long gone, just replaced by guilt.

She looked like a ghost when the words she said must’ve hit her because her face drops and she looks just about ready to cry. "Shit, I'm sorry - I," she pushes herself over towards him, guilt written all over her. He took a second to gather his thoughts. He knew she didn't mean it. More than likely, she meant it towards herself.

He gave her a small squeeze before attempting to pull away. He stopped the second he heard a small sob. His eyebrows furrowed,

" it's alright, ain't the first time i've been yelled at. Look, I know you're upset, but let's just take a second to breathe. " he took a deep breath and let it out. She followed his actions, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "There we go. Are you good now?" He watched as she fought back the tears that rolled down her face. Panic quickly filled his body. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. "Hey, hey-hey, whoa, it's alright," he stepped forward, pulling her into a hug.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, just sobbing into his chest. The genuine pain in her sobs made his heart squeeze because all he wanted was to take all her pain away. He wasn't sure what had gotten her so shook up. The genuine look of fear on her face caught him off guard.

They had stood there for a while, him gently rubbing her back as she cried. Once she seemed to calm down for the most part, he pulled back a bit, just enough to see her face. "Mar hey c'mon talk to me, what's wrong?" She wasn't looking at him. It was the first thing he noticed. Her eyes just burned holes at his chest and her mouth opening and closing a few times before she spoke up. "I'm sorry for yelling at you- God you didn't deserve that.."

"Hey, it's alright, I forgive you. Truly, it happens to the best of us, " his eyes darting around her face, looking for any hints that would tell him what was wrong. "You don't have to tell me what's wrong, but it might help."

That's when she told him about her old partner. At some point, they had sat down as she spoke. Told him about how when things got real stressful, most practices were just her getting screamed at. Yelled at about something that she had done wrong. She then started apologizing and explaining how she could just hear him screaming and the frustration building like it had back then.

It horrified him. Hearing her not only talk about some guy berating her but also berating herself. He gently grabbed her hand and just stared at her for a moment. Marcia took a heavy breath before looking over at him. "Marcia, you never deserved that." Her eyes searched his face, probably trying to find any deceit. "But only if-"

"No, buts. You didn't deserve that point blank no matter how much stress he might’ve been through." Most people think he couldn't be serious, mostly since he's always joking around even in most serious moments, but he can, and in this very moment, he was showing that. He knew Marcia wouldn't believe him, maybe not for a while, but he needed her to know that she didn't deserve getting yelled at. "You swear?"

"I promise. Now how about that dinner?"

She smiled softly, standing up from where she was sitting. For a moment, he thought she was just gonna throw herself back onto the rink, but she headed towards her bag. "Yeah, yeah, just let me pack up"

Watching her unlace her skates and place them onto the bench, he knew that it would all work out. That one day they'd be living life good hand in hand.

[mrs-kodzuken]

hard to desire ⨟ kenma k.

chapter seven

stay ari abdul

❝I hope I occupy your mind

No one deserves you, yeah you're mine

Only with you I feel alive

If you leave me here, I'll die❞

The layout of the hotel was simple, sleek and seemed perfect for two adults, except those adults would have to be in a relationship if there was only one bed—or close family members.

Strangely, you didn’t feel the least bit mad though, a bit overwhelmed with the whole gas leak situation and the fact that the receptionist lied to your face but other than that, it was like you were at home.

But tonight, you’d be sharing a bed with Kenma—and you both weren’t family nor very close; it kick-started a flutter in your heart.

You watched him gazing around the room, skipping over the other living human being too as he stuck certain things to mind, like which side of the room the bathroom was at, where the remote to the TV was placed, where you were staring at him from and so on.

Kenma didn’t know how to feel, especially about rooming with the girl he actually realized he has a miniscule—huge—crush for. 

Kenma was hoping—alongside you as well—that tonight wouldn’t make anything more strange between the both of you, however, he could almost guess that it would be the case for the night. 

Kuroo stayed at an Airbnb with his friends, Bokuto, Akaashi and other high school friends you had never met—you had taken the liberty yourself to ask—so, you had no choice but to stay in the hotel room with Kenma.

You weren’t complaining too much though because you had become more comfortable with him over this past week, so it didn’t bother you too much. Especially when you learned to put the whole ‘he masturbated to the thought of you’ out of your head, that did leave lingering feelings of a schoolgirl crush. It’s not like you would ever admit it though. 

“So…” You trailed on to Kenma, “What do we do now?” You looked up from your standing spot, the hotel looked really nice.

You haven’t been to a hotel since your last vacation with your parents too. You tried to not be awkward with Kenma, flashes of your last talks with Akaashi were still fresh and at this point, you were too chicken to admit your feelings for Kenma.

“I guess just lounge til we're tired...?” He questioned, because that’s what he mostly does when his days off align with work and college. Now with you taking up even those rare days too, he needed a little quiet time in his head.

Kenma plopped down on the nearby, small sofa and pulled out his phone. You took that as a sign that he didn’t want to talk and then rolled your eyes. 

“Okay, Kenma,” You responded, opening up Pinterest yourself. You didn’t like sitting in mere silence either, it was practically deafening—it made you uncomfortable. So, you realized after so long, you had been rambling to Kenma about the things you were viewing on Pinterest.

“Oh, I think I like this picture better though, it has ribbons on the screen unlike the last one, but the last one was super cute too, though…” You trailed, scrolling between two lockscreens on your phone.

You just couldn’t decide, and all Kenma could respond with was a “Mhm.”

That was until you found a quiz, “Hey, wait! Should I take this quiz that’ll tell me what kind of bread I am? I hope I’m sourdough, it’s delicious.” You asked Kenma, hoping this time he’ll respond. 

He looked up from his phone to see you sprawled out on the bed, claiming it as yours. You looked cute as hell; Kenma couldn’t not soften his gaze from the random rambling you’ve been doing for the past hour.

“I think you’d be a sweet bread,” he said, not realizing how it sounded out loud until your head snapped up to meet his eyes that were trailed on your body.

“Like a coffee one because you drink it so often,” He hurried to add, alongside giving a fake snort to make it seem like a joke. Kenma didn’t want to be the person to initiate the conversation you both have been waiting for, but the buildup of talking was more nerve racking than seeing what was on the other side. 

After that bit, you didn’t speak anymore but put on a random TV show that was on, after Kenma’s compliment, you were in your head about how you needed to say something—anything—to him about your feelings.

However, with the way he looks at you, so kind now, as if you both are dear friends, you just can’t. Not to mention, when he’s helpful or does things for you just because he wants to with no ulterior motives.

That’s what makes you swoon for him, and it sucked for you. Between the hours from then and now, it was a comfortable silence, Kenma had turned the side table lamp on instead of the big, overhead light.

You had completed the last bit of homework that needed to be done so you could relax for the rest of fall break, and you watched Kenma—without him knowing—turn his phone horizontal. 

Watching his expressions when he was focused was mesmerizing to you, you couldn’t look away from him. Kenma’s appearance was also just one of those things that had you swallowing hard and clenching your thighs together, as much as you won’t admit.

Like a hawk though, the first yawn that escapes your mouth, he’s up. “Come on, I’ll order some dinner while you get ready for bed.” Kenma breaks you out of your trance-like state, not bothering that you are too tired to eat now.

“I don’t want to, I’m tired now,” You rolled over onto your face, your voice coming out muffled from the pillow.

“I don’t care, you’re eating. Get in the shower and don’t make me repeat myself.” You peeked from your pillow to him turned around, his backside facing you.

The rush of butterflies and urge in your lower abdomen was breathtaking. You never knew that Kenma could be assertive, but then again, you knew certain parts of him—only little tid-bits that he wanted you to know.

“Okay, fine.” You grumbled, trying to hide your flushed face with your hair as you trudged to the bathroom with your bag that you packed.

You could slightly hear him through the door, ordering dinner for the both of you, you did like that Kenma cared for you, it sent a rush of no other through your body. 

After your relaxing shower, you were met with dinner, it was something simple, but Kenma knew your favorites after living with you for so long.

“Thank you, Kenma.” You smiled, happy that you were eating, having not realized that you were even hungry.

“Don’t mention it.” He stated, scrolling on his phone before throwing away the scraps of his food.

“I’m going to shower; I’ll sleep on the floor when I’m back.” He said, not turning back and was about to close the white door.

“Hey, what? No, you’re not. The floor is going to be uncomfortable to sleep on, you can’t.” You said confused, the bed was big enough, and more, for the both of you.

“No, seriously, I’m fine with the flo-”

“Do you not want to sleep with me? I showered, you know. I’m not dirty.” You were taking offense to his refusal, it’s not like you weren’t clean either.

“Oh my God, fine. I’ll sleep in the bed with you, okay?” He looked exasperated but couldn’t get over you asking if he didn’t want to sleep with you. 

God, you were going to be the death of him, he thought as he shut the door behind him with a hard on. When he took his hair out of his ponytail, he ran a hand through it, trying to relieve the stress from the too tight hair tie.

But, of course, he knew that the hair tie wasn’t the problem, it was his dick. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t believe what he was about to do, especially with you on the other side of the door. Kenma turned on the shower, almost burning hot, just the way he liked it.

The thoughts of you filled his head, the way you laid on the bed, how comfortable you looked, asking you to sleep with him, you with your sleep clothes on. It was all becoming too much as his hand strayed towards his reddening cock, he slowly breathed, hoping to keep the noise down or that it would be muffled by the shower so your ears wouldn’t hear.

He would be painfully embarrassed if you knew that he got off to you, especially when you’re right through the door. 

Kenma couldn’t help but to tightly shut his eyes as his hand squeezed his needy cock, God, he needed you, he craved making you his so he wouldn’t have to do this anymore.

His hand pumped up and down his dick rapidly, the slight papping noise of his hand hitting his skin making the illusion that the both of you were having sex.

He groaned loudly, his orgasm that he was trying to get away from, hitting him hard making his hips buck for more. Kenma tried to catch his breath in the deathly hot shower, almost suffocating as he watched his liquid be swallowed by the drain.

He immediately turned the shower cold as ice and hoped that you didn’t hear him as he finally started his ministrations of cleaning himself. 

However, you on the other side of the door didn’t give Kenma any more thoughts when you heard a small clap of thunder reach your ears.

That was enough for you to focus on pulling up the weather app and hope that it wasn’t what you thought it was. Of course, to your demise, it was, and that only made things worse for you in particular.

You immediately grabbed the TV remote and wrapped it up inside the blankets so Kenma would have no choice but to watch something that would help you get through this night. And so, when you heard the shower stop, you gripped the remote a bit more and waited for Kenma to get out of the bathroom.

When the door creaked open, Kenma couldn’t help but to feel regretful that you’re in here bundled up because it’s storming outside, and he was in the bathroom masturbating to you.

However, he didn’t expect to see the kids show ‘Bluey’ playing on the large hotel TV screen very loud and proud though. Great, that’s something he’s going to have to listen to for the rest of the night. 

He side-eyed you, to let you know he didn’t want to be watching this but the look you gave him was basically saying ‘remember what happened like a week ago’ so, he concluded the best thing to say was nothing.

“Are you okay? Is the storm making you nervous to where you can’t sleep?” He asked, climbing into the bed, trying to fend for some of the covers that you took.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to be watching this.” You shifted your eyes, feeling bad but preferred if you weren’t scared and crying all throughout the night.

Thunderstorms were something you hated, you couldn’t help but to be afraid of them, it probably stemmed from your childhood.

“It’s okay, try to get some sleep,” Was all Kenma said as you got comfortable, however Kenma on the other hand, didn’t. If he wanted more cover and not shiver all night as well as turn the TV down, he’d have to get closer to you in bed.

He decides to bite the bullet, and just scoot closer, what harm could there be? 

As he got comfortable, he didn’t expect you to snuggle up closer to him, especially when you were more than likely asleep. He took that chance to grab the remote and turn the TV down a bit, it was hurting from how loud it was.

When Kenma finally settled back down, he realized how close you both were, he could feel how fast his heart was beating in your presence, not to mention that his dick was half hard even though he masturbated in the shower.

Kenma could feel his face flushing as he listened to your breathing, it was soft as he counted your breaths in and out. He definitely would not be able to sleep now, especially when the girl he’s been hateful crushing on is snuggled up right next to him.

Adamant to not make this night something sexual, especially since you’re afraid of thunderstorms, he holds you close like he did that night in your bed.

The rain sounds mixed in with the even breaths of you was soothing enough to probably let him sleep—if you didn’t shuffle around every five seconds. 

It almost gives him a heart attack every so often when you shift in your sleep because besides being interested in a kids show, he keeps peering down at you and soft smiling, not being able to help it.

Kenma didn’t realize how long a kids show could actually be, especially when it just kept playing each episode without pause. He reached for the remote, eyes heavy, body wishing to sleep, and mind foggy, hoping to turn it off because it was practically two in the morning by that point.

That was until you stirred, waking up due to the lack of sound, in which Kenma pretends to be asleep, hoping that you didn’t catch him pretending.

All he heard from you was subtle mumbling about how he ‘shouldn’t touch the volume’ and to ‘mind his manners’. That was when he rolled his eyes while they were closed, hoping that it was enough for it to look like he was in REM sleep.

He felt you pat his cheek, trying to resist the rosiness that usually happens during close contact like this. When you shuffle a bit more, he peeks his eye open just very slightly, hoping to not let you see him. 

Your hair was a mess, and you looked sleepy with a cute little pout because of the volume. Kenma felt like his heart was going to burst if you didn’t go back to sleep soon.

That was, until you kept whispering something he couldn’t hear until he focused on the sound and not your looks, “Kenma, I felt like a little creep that day when I peeked at you, and I’m sorry, but it’s nice to know you like me too.” You softly spoke, just shy of a whisper, hoping to not wake him and to go back to sleep yourself.

You felt better and went back to sleep with ease because you confessed and got it off of your chest. However, Kenma on the other hand was internally in shambles, he hoped to God you weren’t talking about what he thought you were.

If he wasn’t so close to you, he’d get up and leave without another word exchanged, it was embarrassing to know that you caught him masturbating to you, if he’s thinking of the day correctly. The whole situation you put him in was horrible, notably that the Bluey theme song was playing while his world was coming apart too.

When your breathing became even again, he had to remove himself just a little way away because his face was a rubescent color and his cock was rock-hard. Kenma stayed that way with you shifting every five seconds, making every minute worse for him until he could see the sun rising through the small emerge that was left open of the black out curtains. 

However, that’s when you decide that you want to get up and greet the day, sleeping nicely all throughout the night, except when you had to get that small guilt-ridden comment off your chest.

You peered over at Kenma, feeling shy that you both were so close together last night, also because he was like a heat warmer.

Somehow, he still looked tired even when he was sleeping. “Good morning, Kenma.” You said softly, being sure to ease your way out of bed without waking him up, as well as turning off the TV for his sake.

Funnily enough, the only time Kenma was able to get some sleep was when you finally left the bed and probably were hungry for breakfast.

You, on the other hand, were ecstatic for today because this was the day that you were going to talk to Kenma, you decided it the moment you awoke from sleeping beside him. Your schoolgirl crush with him would be confronted and you’d feel so much better about getting all the feelings out instead of keeping them in. 

You’re not in the hotel room when Kenma wakes up, as true, he barely got a wink of sleep, just shy of an hour because the check out time was coming soon.

He decided to leave while he still could and not have to face you right now, it was kind of a shitty thing for him to do, he thought as he got dressed and put his shoes on. But, nevertheless, he’d see you at home anyways, Kenma just needed a little refuge for right now.

Especially since he was your refuge/safe place all night.

When Kenma’s leaving with his backpack on, there’s plenty of people in the hotel hallways, people coming back from lunch, collecting their things to check out, even the cleaning staff too. I

t was understandable that he bumped into someone, but he didn’t bother looking back in such a crowded hallway, however, he didn’t realize that the someone was you.

And if he had seen you, the confused expression on your face as to why he was leaving when you had just got his portion for breakfast and bumped into you without saying anything.

That kind of hurt your feelings as you stood there in the hotel hallway, not sure what to do. 

synopsis: it's the summer before you go to university, and you decide to become roommates with your pen pal that you've known since you were in primary. big problem arises, he's got a roommate, and it just so happens that his roommate either has a sexual want for you or hates your guts – or probably both?

a/n: hiii! i hope you like the update and enjoy :)) we're coming to an end in a few chapters, so excitinggg ! <3

tag list: @geektastic84 @lavanderdreamve @hhoneyhan @kirikeijii @marsoverthestars @nymphsdomain @justagirlnamedkai @kodzukein @74zix47 @kakuzone @jaeminaur @3lectraheart @ookamiakasuna @22marie16 @jlly1 @aldebrana @kad0o

@deftrow allowed me permission to make this/it's their idea from A03!! all i did was create a multi-chapter fic of it :) i made the banner!!

[tennessoui]

Hey kit I’m hoping it’s okay to ask is there any updates on vow breaker?

no worries at all!! Vowbreaker is chugging along I actually have 1.5k that I’m pretty proud of for this chapter that will be about ~6-7k

I’ve had a hard time finishing these lately or focusing on any one project which means I have 6 Google docs open and about 1-2k on multiple projects (lslm, t&t, an actual 5k fic for sugar daddy anakin au, a wing fic, Vowbreaker, an actual fic for cheating au, and actual fic for smithsonian au, etc)

[therosevest]

something on my mind rn. as you all know i’m a lesbian. applause from the audience. and sometimes it just gets to be like annoying when. well. so i have at least A friend who’s asked me several times over ‘so you don’t have Any attraction to men? like at all?’ and i know they’re not being like malicious but you know. that answer has not changed since like seventh grade. and in the same vein it just feels aggravating when i have the nerve to say Oh i think she seems like a lesbian. that’s giving dyke. etc. and to be met with ‘umm well maybe she actually does like men.’ like. first of all in personal conversations if i’m just saying shit chances are i’m just going off of patterns from my own life or other lesbians i know. i’m not here for Bi Erasure and i promise you in this context your attraction to men is not ever invalidated as much as my lack of it. esp in college with so many people talking about their dating/app experiences and etc it’s 99.9999% of the time about men and i just Can’t participate in that conversation which is yk not the end of the world but a bit isolating and even if i do contribute anything it just feels like… a slight Stiffening like. and even just getting brushed off with Well yeah but you’re not even into guys. like real! i still have eyes though. and esp when my attraction isn’t being celebrated and engaged with in the way theirs is it’s just really fucking lonely! and maybe that’s a gross inner voice of insecurity that i’m projecting onto them but like you must get what i mean right. there’s still this odd air specifically around people who Do Not engage with men at all. and if i do make any kind of joke or comment abt someone maybe just Not being into guys i’m made into the asshole who’s invalidating their experiences etc when like. i’m just saying shit man idk. and it’s like many of these people are bi and claim attraction to women but get so like uncomfortable actually talking about it. i don’t think i’m the one with problems! i think there’s still some internalized shit there. you know. anyway all this to say as much as we’ve had the conversation of invalidating bi attraction some of you need to think about not treating gay attraction as this secondary awkward weird elephant in the room. and on a more personal note on top of the Everything that was getting under my skin last night this was just a cherry on top where i was feeling soo… misunderstood and invalidated lol even tho again i largely think those friends were being very supportive and kind to me. this is just one thing i was like. 😐

[wavesmp3]

I’m sorry if this feels weird to say or anything but… I really love your mind 😭 when I first discovered your fics I would get upset by the open endings because it was something that I wasn’t used to in the slightest. I’m too attached to having full closure by the end of a story, but after I read more of your writing I really became enthralled by it. Your style feels like I’m transported completely to a sort of dream realm. I’m not sure if it’s your wording or the way the story plays out but your fics really feel like dreams more than anything to me. If I could describe it then I would say it feels almost like “All About Lily Chou-Chou” or “The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” in it’s atmosphere, what I imagine the stories look like when playing out and that sort of filter/cinematography. Hopefully that makes sense and I mean this comparison in the best way as I love both movies! eurydice was the first fic I read from you and it was such a different experience from what I usually am used to and it challenged me to think further into the implications and symbolism throughout the story. I guess your writing brought me out of my comfort zone and then I got hooked on your writing! I think the way you write is so unique and special and I’m so glad that I came across it and I really hope that you get more attention for it! So yeah, I just wanted to make sure that you knew how absolutely beautiful and captivating your writing is and how thankful I am that you’re sharing your talent with us. Keep doing what you do, you’re amazing!

hi, omg. thank you for this ask! definitely not a weird thing to say at all :) I’m glad to hear that my writing was able to push into a new kind of style I guess, that means the world to me! and i am so honored you think so highly of my writing. i haven’t seen all about Lilly Chou-Chou but I have seen (and love) eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. it’s one of my favorite movies and one that has (as you’ve picked out here lol) really inspired the way I like to tell stories. the comparison feels undeserved but thank you nonetheless. and what you said about my pieces feeling like dream….mwah. that’s kind of the goal I’m going for with my more recent and shorter pieces. im so happy it came across like that for you too.

again, just thank you for this ask! it’s always a pleasure to hear what someone thinks of my pieces. and I’m so glad you found my fics and that my fics found you :)

[goldenleafly]

what if i’m crazy and evil and i don’t know. what if there’s something wrong with me. the guy i’m dating uses tumblr so now i use tumblr. the guy i’m dating drinks and does drugs but i still don’t do those things yet

[raeathnos]

.

[thewispsings]

please date my sister in law | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: the one where charles won’t rest until he gets his fiancée’s sister a boyfriend.

liked by maxverstappen1, yoursistersuser, 806,026 others!

charles_leclerc: are you a hot and single guy OR woman in monaco looking for the perfect lady? well boy do i have good news for you! here we have yn ln, my sister-in law, she’s VERY single, likes long walks on the beach, napping, eating, and knitting. if you are interested please comment below! SERIOUS OFFERS ONLY.

view comments below!

yourusername: what the fuck is this charles

charles_leclerc: this is me getting you a boyfriend?

yourusername: NO CHARLES THIS IS JUST NO. @/yoursistersuser TAKE HIS PHONE?

yoursistersuser: I HAVE BUT HE JUST KEEPS BUYING MORE

charles_leclerc: i cannot be stopped

user1: i’m interested?

charles_leclerc: no you are too ugly

yourusername: cha please stop

charles_leclerc: i will stop once i get you a nice PRETTY boyfriend

yoursistersuser: love, please delete this

charles_leclerc: i would do anything for you… except deleted this. yn needs a bf, she’s been to lonely lately

yoursistersuser: but this doesn’t help her get a boyfriend charles

charles_leclerc: but it will!! have faith

user2: he’s trying to sell her like she’s a dog?? 😭

user3: “likes long walks on the beach, napping, eating” IS SHE A DOG CHARLES??

user4: this is borderline weird and thoughtful at the same time

user5: charles get engaged and goes crazy

user6: i’m interested!

charles_leclerc: no you are far too short

yourusername: what’s the point of this if you’re just going to reject everyone

charles_leclerc: i need to pick someone suitable, i don’t need someone ugly or short ruining my wedding pictures

yourusername; then how about you delete this and don’t have to worry about “someone ugly or short ruining my wedding pictures”

charles_leclerc; but i don’t want you alone and sad in the pictures either!

user7: yn doesn’t have a bf?? she’s gorgeous

user8: charles you work with 19 perfectly rich, fine, and tall?? (not really, depends) men, set her up with them

user9: girl half of those men are taken

user8: okay so like 8 rich, fine, and tall (??) men, those are still lots of chances

oscarpiastri: what is going on?

charles_leclerc: are you interested oscar? because you’d be my top pick.

oscarpiastri: i’m too busy with racing for relationships right now, sorry!

yourusername: i just got rejected in front of the whole world through my brother-in law. CHARLES PLEASE STOP THIS

user9: hey so this is crazy!

user10: it’s cute that he cares enough about this too make a whole post

yourusername: charles please stop i’m getting so many dick pics

user12: gross

user13: oh that’s not…

user14: #freeyn

user15: why is he trying to sell her like a dog

user16: if this actual works, i fear we will never hear the end of it from charles

charles_leclerc: all those who are sending dick pics to my sister-in law WILL be reported for harassment. you are lucky my fiancé is holding me back from posting your small dicks all over social media.

user17: POST THE SMALL DICKS CHARLES, DO IT

user18: STOP HOLDING HIM BACK!! LET HIM BE FREE

user19: when he’s protective over his soon to be family >>

user20: three days into summer break and charles has gone crazy

yourusername: i gave you permission to propose to my sister and this is how you repay me?

yoursistersuser: we’re stuck with him for this rest of our lives 😓

yourusername: please, don’t remind me.

user21: “guy or woman” is yn gay?

charles_leclerc: yes! she is half homosexual :)

yourusername: jesus charles

charles_leclerc: what? it’s true!

danielricciardo: can you do one of these post for me?

charles_leclerc: you are rich, tall and buff. no.

charles_leclerc; @/maxverstappen1, @/georgerussell63, @/oscarpiastri, @/carlossainz55, @/alex_albon, @/danielricciardo, @/landonorris who’s interested? 😁

alex_albon; nope

danielricciardo: this weird mate

oscarpiastri; i’ve already said no

landonorris: no thank you

carlossainz55: no thank you

georgerussell63: shakes head

yourusername; kill me now

charles_leclerc: okay. whatever. i don’t care.

carlossainz55: he cares

charles_leclerc: on a completely totally unrelated note @/maxverstappen1, join me for coffee tomorrow morning?

maxverstappen1: sure 👍

— cafe near charles house, 9am, on the dot.

— max verstappen has posted a new story!

[caption: nice cafe 👍]

story responses:

charles_leclerc: hehehehe 😈

user22: SO YOU AND YN WERE HANGING OUT??

user23: that twitter user wasn’t lying??!?!??

user24: charles set you and yn up huh 😼

danielricciardo: who goes to a cafe and gets tea?

maxverstappen1: yn does. and then i felt awkward ordering something else.

danielricciardo: it’s been years and she still makes you nervous?? 🤣

maxverstappen1: shut it

landonorris: i’m surprised you didn’t run away in fear when you say her instead of charles

maxverstappen1: so does everyone just know about charles plan or what?

landonorris: pretty much yeah!

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 501,026 others!

yourusername: july and august photo dump 👍

view comments below!

charles_leclerc: my wedding is in a week, why are you posting on instagram and not freaking out?

yourusername: i can multitask

charles_leclerc: maybe you having a bf was a bad idea, you are too distracted 😑

yourusername; lalalala can’t hear you

user23: boyfriend you say? 😏

user24: 2 months and shes been seen "hanging out" with max more then 10 times, AND she justs posted jimmy or sassy (i cant tell the difference) what are you tryna say yn?

user25: man i can’t believe charles actually got yn a boyfriend

user26: and it’s MAX. like his max.

user27: how do yall even know theyre dating?

user25: context clues babes

user28: this is the closest we’ll get to yn and max making it “official”

user29: i feel like if they go to the wedding together, that’ll be them making it “official”

user30: oh definitely

maxverstappen1: puzzles are hard

yourusername: they’re easy when you focus on

maxverstappen1: how can i focus when i when i have a gorgeous woman should as yourself near me?

landonorris: that was smooth man 👏

maxverstappen1: thank you, i’ve been practicing

user31: and people are still saying they aren’t together??

user32: people want them to post a story wirh the caption “this is us making it official” 💀 like babes this is the best we’re going to get

user33: i can’t believe the wedding of the century is in ONE WEEK??

user34: it feels like just yesterday when charles accidentally told the whole world he was engaged

liked by charles_leclerc, yourisistersuser, and 1,026,027 others!

yourusername: today, my sister married an idiot

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user35: that wedding was so fucking gorgeous

user36: charles and yn planned the whole thing?? fuck f1 we need them as party planners

yourusername: planning this wedding was the most stressful thing in my fucking life. i never want to plan anything ever again

user37: well the wedding was beautiful so, worth it?

user38: i was expecting a much more emotional caption

user39: she got all her emotions out during her speech 😭

user40: OMG HER SPEECH WAS THE CUTEST THING. “charles you have changed mine and my sisters life for the better. you have introduced me to someone who makes me feel like i’m on cloud 9.” THE CAMERA PANS TO MAX??? “i know we joke and what not, but… i don’t know, just…thank you for making me feel like family.” TEARS ARE STREAMING DOWN MY FACE “i love you both so much,” I CRIED, CHARLES CRIED, EVERYONE CRIED

user41: we will never get that amount of emotion from yn ever again

user42: i will enjoy it while it last

yoursistersuser: i did indeed marry an idiot.

yourusername: it’s okay tho! we still like him

charles_leclerc: awwwww 🥰🥰

user43: charles just ignoring the idiot part

user44: it’s been a good day. yn and max made itt official, charles got married, and the wedding was gorgeous

user45: f1 twt has never been so peaceful

user46; RIGHT??? everyone’s just celebrating the marriage

maxverstappen1: will we have a big wedding?

yourusername: absolutely not. unless charles plans it by himself, we’re getting married in a courthouse

charles_leclerc: are you serious? you’ll let me plan your wedding?

yourusername: you proved yourself with this wedding so yes

charles_leclerc: AHHHHHH OMG OMG OMG I HAVE TO GET STARTED

user47: first it started with him trying to get her a bf, now he’s planning her wedding

user48: i feel like a proud mom watching her kids grow up 😢

. . .

notes; pls pls pls send me blurb or smau request!! i have 2 weeks left of vacation and i must make the most of it