#Yes I have an actual tag for when I speak now

[sayyestoheav3nn]

Nights Like This: Part Three

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: language, angst

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: guys are we riding at dawn or not lmaoo??? if i forgot to tag you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list please feel free to lmk 💕

“Tell me what?”

Serena and Roman froze, which angered Zoe to another level, because it’s one thing to screw her over, but its another to play in her fucking face.

Roman turned towards Serena,“Give us some space…” His voice was stern, more of a demand than a request. Serena briefly looked at Zoe and sighed, she proceeded to grab her keys and walk outside.

“Where the fuck is she going, you both seemed to have a lot to say.” Zoe started walking towards the door to confront Serena, but as she was about to reach the door her movements were halted when Roman grabbed her by the waist gently pulling her back.

“Baby we need to talk, just you and me please…” he pleaded. Seconds later she heard a car engine start. This bitch really had the audacity to leave without saying a word.

“Oh so now you want to fucking talk? Because you damn sure didn’t have shit to say before I found the condoms,” Zoe sneered as she yanked her body away from him.

Roman paused and took a deep breath, slowly rubbing his hand over his beard, “Baby I fucked up, I’m sorry...”

“You’re sorry, is that really all you have to say?” Her voice cracked, she could feel her throat begin to tighten.

Roman felt like the biggest piece of shit. Seeing the exhaustion and pain in her eyes, hurt him. He hated to see her cry, let alone being the reason behind it. There was no excuse for what he did, and he knew it. Which is exactly why he didn’t want to tell her, but actions have consequences. He made his bed, it was time to fucking lie in it.

“Baby I—” As he began to speak Zoe cut him off, “Roman I’m gonna ask you this one time. Did you or did you not, cheat on me with Serena?”

Roman lowered his head, his gaze now shifted towards the floor. He paused in silence for a short moment, she could see his hands were slightly fidgeting. Roman briefly looked up at her, still avoiding making eye contact.

“Yes,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

Zoe’s heart felt like it was ripped out of her chest. She knew the answer, but she wanted him to have the balls to actually fucking say it. Tears that she had been fighting back started to roll down her face, sobs escaping her. “Fuck you, Roman.” She started to walk away, but was stopped when Roman walked in front of her stopping her in her tracks.

“Zo don’t leave, please just talk to me.”

“You’re such a piece of shit, I fucking trusted you. She wiped away some of her tears, which was of no use considering she couldn’t stop crying, “My best friend? Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve only met her a handful of times!” she yelled.

“I want you to tell me why, you wanted to talk, so fucking talk,” she hissed.

Roman’s eyes were glistened with tears, his shoulders were slumped as he inhaled a deep breath, “I—I came to her to help me plan our trip and your birthday dinner. I figured since I don't know shit when it comes to throwing parties, I’d hire someone who not only works in that profession, but someone who would know what you’d like.”

“Yeah it seems she ended up finding exactly what I liked,” she scoffed.

Roman put his head down, his voice getting lower, “I ended coming over at different times over the span of two months to approve some of the planning details. Little by little I noticed she was flirting more than usual, in the beginning I tried to ignore it, but over time I—I began to like the attention.”

Zoe felt sick to her stomach, she listened quietly while angrily wiping away her tears. She wanted to leave to avoid hearing this bullshit, but a part of her wanted to know why. Why would two people who claimed to love her, hurt her in the most disrespectful way possible.

Seeing Zoe silently crying made the pit of Roman’s stomach drop, he was disgusted with himself. How in the hell did he let something so stupid, jeopardize what he had? He loves Zoe, he couldn’t give two fucks about Serena. Yet, he let a moment of weakness ruin everything and hurt the one person he loved more than anyone.

He walked towards her, and gently lifted her face. “Baby, please look at me,” Zoe refused, and that fucking killed him.

“I don’t need all the details, just tell me what happened...” her lower lip was slightly trembling. She pushed him away, making sure to keep a distance between them.

“Before my last visit, I let my ego cloud my judgment. I went to the store, bought the condoms and headed over to her house.” Roman paused, he was internally struggling to say the rest, but he knew he had to, he owed her that. “We kissed, and she ended up giving me head.”

“Let me guess, you returned the favor?” Silence. Just as she expected. “Of course you did because you’re such a generous tribal chief, right?”

He took a deep breath, his chin dipping to his chest. “I went with the intention to fuck her Zo, I did. And I know that there’s no amount of apologies in the world that will change what I did, but I need you to know that I didn’t fuck her.”

“So you’re telling me the condom unwrapped itself?”

“I was going to fuck her baby, I was. But when the time came, I thought of you, and I just— I just couldn’t do that to you.”

Roman walked towards her, gently moving some of her hair out of her face, he wiped some of her tears away with his thumb. He felt a sharp pang of guilt seeing her so broken, the weight of what he did was fully sinking in his chest.

“Baby please look at me.”

She doesn’t know why she actually did, but she felt so numb as if nothing even really mattered anymore. She looked at his big brown eyes, eyes that she once viewed with love and admiration, she now saw with despair.

A few tears slipped down his face. “Zoe please understand that she means absolutely fucking nothing to me. I love you baby. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I lied to you, I’m sorry that I hurt you—”

“If it was me that did this to you, how would you feel?”

He sighed heavily, facing down. He couldn’t even say a word. What a fucking hypocrite.

“You knew all the bullshit that I went through with my ex, and you went and did this shit. I opened up to you, and you promised me you would never do what he did to me. I feel so fucking stupid to have actually believed you. The fact that you wouldn’t have told me shit had I not caught you makes me sick to my stomach. You want to know what I think Roman? I think you’re a fucking coward.”

Zoe grabbed her keys and headed towards the door. She didn’t care about leaving her things behind, that slut seemed to like her leftovers anyways.

“Zo, please don’t do this to me,” he pleaded. Every single emotion that she tried to hold in was released, she was crying uncontrollably. She ignored him and was able to get in her car.

“You did this to yourself. You don’t have to worry about me anymore Roman, you and Serena can go fuck yourselves.”

Zoe started driving home, but the farther she got the more her anger built. She pulled over at a store to park and try to compose herself, she was so mad her hands were trembling. The memory of Serena letting her cry on her shoulder while being the actual cause of her tears, and leaving without even trying to apologize made her even more pissed. Fuck this. She put her gps back on Serena’s address, enough is enough. The only thing on her mind right now, was beating this bitch’s ass.

[skitskatdacat63]

Boy King AU | Vettonso + Martian | 1.3k

There's something about putting the future emperor of the Holy Realm on his knees like this. About how easily he goes, how willingly, how obediently. What would his adoring public think if they could see him now. If they saw their beloved king pressed down like this, in the cramped space between Fernando's legs. When they realized their little boy king took it like he was a little concubine instead. 

Fernando's bitterness is lifted away in moments like these, like taking off a heavy cloak on a winter's day. It was hard to feel humiliated about his own situation when watching Sebastian debase himself like this. 

He always gives himself up so easily. When Fernando threaded his fingers through his thick curls. When he pulled them, and then when he pressed his face down further down into the vee of his legs.  Sebastian rubbed his cheek into the coarse fabric of Fernando's breeches and blinked up at him. Fernando had to smother an embarrassing sound; he was just like a little cat!

Sebastian quirked his lips up into an odd little smile and slightly rose up on his knees, "What's funny?" Fernando swallowed lightly and schooled his face back into being impassive, "Nothing. As you were." Sebastian simply smirked at him and let himself be pushed back down by the fist clenched in his hair. 

Fernando scoffed internally, there was only so much pleasure in putting the other man in his place when he instead acted like this, this degrading action, was his birthright. He took to ruling and indulging in carnal pleasures as if they were of equal gravity. To be privileged to hold such high station and also let himself be taken apart like this…Fernando felt embarrassed for him.

He is dragged away from his musings when Sebastian moved to settle his hands in Fernando's lap, clutching his hips over the fabric and slightly squeezing; Fernando fought against the urge to shiver. Sebastian pushed up the skirt of Fernando's waistcoat and smoothed his hands over the opening flap of his breeches.

His eyes darted up at Fernando again, a daft smile on his face. Fernando scowled at him, "What?" Seb's grin sharpened, "You could stand to be a little more gracious. This is your future emperor, and future husband might I add, kneeling for you on this dirty, depraved, derelict- ah–" Fernando tugged on his hair again and hissed, "Well then, why don't you show me how eager you are to perform your marital duties?" 

Seb licked his lips, completely unconcerned by Fernando's annoyance, and unbuttoned one side of the closure to Fernando's breeches and moved to open the other–

The door to the carriage flew open, arrival announcement dying on a wheezing breath as the servant took in the image the two kings made. One splayed across the seat, exuding power, the other kneeled, debauched, between the former's legs. 

One would be hard pressed to determine which was higher on the totem of power and titles. 

There was something gratifying about this to Fernando, about being caught. He had been humiliated enough throughout the entire courtship, what was one more thing? And, certainly, what was one more thing if he could drag Sebastian down into the dirt with him. 

"Oh Mark, don't act so abashed! It's nothing you haven't seen before, in fact, we have been in this very position not even a fortnight ago!"

Oh. Yes. That. 

It was hard to be completely pleased when he remembered how Sebastian had already spent years prior to their engagement sampling the palace's ample selection of fellow high-born men. And how all those men seemed to be completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger.

Fernando released his hand from Sebastian's hair as if it had burned him. He did not understand why he felt ashamed with Mark looking in on them like this. Fernando was the one marrying Sebastian, not Mark; Mark was just a lowly courtier who had the esteemed duty of spending practically every waking hour with the brat…something he himself was decidedly not looking forward to. 

Sebastian stayed kneeling, staring impassively up at Mark, still fiddling with the clasp on Fernando's breeches. Fernando gritted his teeth and looked up from where he was watching Sebastian's clever little hands; Mark stared back at him placidly. 

Mark's indifference made the entire situation worse. Fernando now felt as if he was not doing anything unique, not doing anything particularly new. How many other men had Mark caught Seb with in this exact position? Fernando felt like he was just another plaything of the boy king, soon to be boy emperor, except his position was forever, permanent. He was the "Kept King", the king who only kept his throne due to the whims of a boy who doesn't even understand what power is.

Mark coughed, "Well," he says, "Your Majesty, I do believe you have a meeting to attend." Seb pouted at him and whined, "We were just getting to the main course," but still braced himself on Fernando's thighs and got up off the carriage floor. 

Seb pranced down the steps Mark had placed next to the carriage, miming tripping sown the stairs, snickering when his action made Mark reflexively reach out to grab him, and then playfully skipped off the final step. 

Fernando couldn't help but stare as Mark made the weirdest grimace in response, and he inexplicably felt all his mortification seep away from him. Huh. Maybe Mark is-

Seb then turned around and frowned at him, seemingly disappointed, but his eyes are deceivingly sharp, "Fernando, I regret to inform you that I have other duties I must attend to, you will simply have to wait." He then grinned up at Mark next to him and giggled as the other man stiffened when Sebastian looped both of his arms through Mark's. 

He leaned all his weight on the other man, Mark not so much as shifting his weight, "Oh Mark, won't you carry me back to the palace? I'm so very tired after all the horse riding," Seb looked up at him imploringly.

Fernando observed as Mark rolled his eyes and shrugged off the man, though notably not pulling his arm from Seb's grasp, and he got the distinct feeling that this exact scene had been played out countless times before. 

Fernando clenched his jaw as he watched Seb turn and saunter off, Mark trotting alongside him like a loyal dog. Fernando was supposed to be the unaffected one in this partnership, the unflustered one, the unconcerned one. And yet here he stood, in broad daylight, in a foreign kingdom, on the steps of a carriage with his breeches half unbuttoned and his cravat in disarray. 

He heard a cough from beside him, jolted and looked to the side. Sebastian's loyal Horse Master stood there, lounging against the side of the carriage. Fernando had forgotten who had even been driving the carriage in the first place. After Seb has let himself be pushed down, his hair still windswept from their ride together, everything else seemed to fade away. His thoughts were reduced only to how he could mess up the younger man's hair further. 

Jenson grinned at him wolfishly, and casually crossed his legs,  "First time?" he inquired. Fernando glared at him. The other man laughed openly at him, "What? He's a busy man with big prospects. You're not his majesty's only conquest, you know. Now your throne on the other hand…"

Fernando seethed, it was one thing to be humiliated by the future emperor, but to be patronized by the king's horse boy? No. It would simply not do. He closed his eyes in annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and prepared a speech about how he was not about to be talked down to by a man who didn't even have a throne to speak of! 

But when he opened his eyes again and opened his mouth to begin his tirade, Jenson was already wandering away to tend to the horses. Dios mío, Fernando was not mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life with all of these impertinent morons. 

[wheucto]

ah. the boopening has ended.

[eri-pl]

Lord of the Rings as a reprise of the Silmarillion

Well ok, not a reprise in the sense of "same song, just with small tweaks" but as" same motifs, but in places where they fit much better and the whole thing is more [excuse me, I lack a word. Better? Happier? None of those fully fits]". Recapitualization? I think this is the more classical music term. But I like the word "reprise".

We have a character falling into fire with The Object, but this time it solves something, and still it's not perfect, poor little wretched creature, but it does accomplish something, as opposed to only removing something beautiful from anyone's reach.

We have a character challenging a Dark Lord to fight, but this time it worrks, it results in distraction, not destruction.

Someone asks Galadriel for her hair and nobody is a jerk about it.

A Man marries an Elf and they live peacefully, and so do their kids.

There is a quest and nobody makes any rush oaths (thanks Elrond!).

More of a stretch, but we have... This may be the fault of movies and fanart but I do see some vibe match: Frodo&Sam as Mae&Maglor (both have the Object; one jumps into water because loyalty; one [almost] jumps into fire). Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli have some 3C vibes (pretty guy with bow, Just A Guy, a guy associated with craftsy Aule-like stuff) but they are not jerks, very much not so. And blame the movies where Merry&Pippin are pranksters, and the fanon where Ambarussar are basically the Weasley twins, but. and Gandalf is cool, associated with fire and dies on a Balrog. But he comes back. And they all are good and succeed. (sorry, Boromir, I can't match you to the pattern, let's say this is your punishment for trying to take the Ring ;) )

I'm not saying it's all intentional on Tolkien's part, just that I see it there.

Yes, I do have some tropes that I obsess about, and this is not even a legit trope, I'm sorry.

I love this. I love this aestethics, or feeling, or whatever you call this, I love recontexttualization, I love when things change in repeat — it's a sad song butt we're gonna sing it anyway — I very much love a similar thing, which excuse me, but should be a trope, should be done more often but is not, the thing where there's a quote and it seems sad, depressing, hopeless even but then you learn the wider context and it's the opposite— and yes, surely there could be just a happy quote from the start but it would lack the moment when your brain goes "a-ha!!!" on it, and I love this moment, it is such a beautiful feeling. When things suddenly are revealed to be the opposite of what they seemed and it's a good thing. Why is this thing not a trope? Like, when people write books and chapter titles, mottos— why don't people do this?

(Like eucatastrophe but instead of "suddenly Eagles!" it's more of a "it's not what I thought it was", like a mental focus shift, a recognition. But it's always been there, not suddenly flew in. (No offense to the Eagles.)).

It's a sad song.

Untill you learn it was just a fragment.

And anyway how Lotr relates to the Silm in this way in some places… it is beautiful.

[diseaseriddencube]

girls literally only want one thing and it's fucking disgusting

[life size replica of Courier's bike]

[astonmartinii]

the king of monza can do what he wants | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem alonso!reader

the king of monza can win the race, have his relationship exposed and challenge his soon-to-be father-in-law to a duel, he can do what he wants.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

oscarpiastri

liked by olliebearman, danielricciardo and 432,095 others

tagged: lilyzneimer, yourusername, charles_leclerc

oscarpiastri: double header means we crashed on my adoptive parents' couch and forced them to cook for me (only y/n, obviously)

view all comments

user1: does he know this isn't his private account?

user2: SHUSH DON'T TELL HIM

user3: we need to enjoy this while it lasts

jackdoohan: oscar, there's still time to delete this

oscarpiastri: why would i delete this?

oscarpiastri: oh

oscarpiastri: oh no

jackdoohan: you might want to warn your kinda dad you've exposed the identity of your kinda mum as your kinda grandad is probably putting out a hit on him as we speak

fernandoalo_oficial: don't call me a grandad 👿🤬😡😠💢😤

jackdoohan: OSCAR QUICK HE'S DISCOVERED EMOJIS HE MUST BE REALLY MAD

user4: fernando, are you okay?

fernandoalo_oficial: i want that frenchies head on a stick

charles_leclerc: i am monegasque!

fernandoalo_oficial: so you do actually want to die?

yourusername: okay let's calm down old man

fernandoalo_oficial: SILENCE I WILL NOT CALM DOWN! THAT'S THE MAN?

yourusername: yes!

fernandoalo_oficial: no.

charles_leclerc: i object!

lancestroll: his eye hasn't stopped twitching since

charles_leclerc: i don't care! he might be crazy but I'M IN LOVE SO BRING IT OLD MAN

user5: wtf have i woken up to this morning

user6: the public execution of the prince of monaco

yourusername: just because he has a samurai tattoo doesn't mean he knows how to use a sword

fernandoalo_oficial: i will tear him apart with my bare hands

user7: i fear this comment section alone has undone all of his funky grandad tiktok PR

user8: he's going to make charles cry in the press conference

yourusername: oh well, charlie is hot when he cries

user9: and how do you know that...

yourusername: that's none of your business 😈

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 2,312,088 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: italy has my heart and so do you <3

view all comments

user11: queen got exposed and immediately started flexing her unbelievably sexy bf

yourusername: why wouldn't i? he's so damn FINE

charles_leclerc: teehee (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

user12: you might as well have told me to kill myself

fernandoalo_oficial: enjoy your weekend charles, it will be your last

charles_leclerc: and if i win? i think suspended sentence?

fernandoalo_oficial: @carlossainz55 i have a proposition for you

yourusername: why are we acting like he wouldn't do that for free

carlossainz55: excuse me?

yourusername: i'm calling you a jealous bitch xx

carlossainz55: what is your price nando?

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm not fucking paying you, i was assuming you'd do it in a jealous rage anyway

carlossainz55: ???

user13: the way carlos is being jumped from both sides unprovoked

user14: which ever alonso it is, they choose violence

oscarpiastri: so ... am i off the hook yet?

yourusername: you know we can't say no to you

fernandoalo_oficial: oscar you might actually be my favourite now, thank you for bringing this to my attention

oscarpiastri: sure i'll take it!

charles_leclerc: you can have my heart and everything else for as long as you want

yourusername: looks like you'll never get it back ;)

charles_leclerc: that's fine by me if i get to spend it with you

yourusername: i love you :P

charles_leclerc: i love you more ( > 〰 < )♡

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by jensonbutton, aussiegrit and 1,209,566 others

fernandoalo_oficial: cash prize for anyone who can actually track down this little rat - i just want to talk i swear

view all comments

user15: it's official everyone, he's gone crazy

user16: as crazy as he is at least he's bringing the DRAMA 🤩

yourusername: this isn't very peace and love of you

fernandoalo_oficial: that has never been the way in this family

fernandoalo_oficial: but let me make this clear, i mean in a destroy all of your enemies way rather than a jos verstappen way

maxverstappen1: ???

yourusername: destroying our enemies does not mean you can do your best jos verstappen impression and drive your aston martin into charles

fernandoalo_oficial: don't be stupid y/n, the aston martin is too slow, i'm going to steal his brakes

yourusername: and how will you do that boomer

fernandoalo_oficial: ferrari are stupid they probably still haven't changed the passwords or locks since i left

yourusername: @scuderiaferrari excuse me???

scuderiaferrari: ....

user17: so like this is a genuine hit?

user18: mob boss!fernando alonso you are so special to me

user19: sorry charles but it's so sexy

charles_leclerc: drop the address senor i'm not scared of you

lancestroll: he brought the samurai sword btw

yourusername: @f1 DO YOU PEOPLE HAVE ANY SECURITY MEASURES ???

f1: it made a good tiktok 👍

yourusername: you people are useless

charles_leclerc: no worries my love it's all under control

fernandoalo_oficial: i will carve you like a christmas turkey

yourusername: you go anywhere near charles with that sword we're both going romeo and juliet style

user20: what on earth is going on

user21: just smile and wave i think we're watching collective hysteria

f1

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 3,562,778 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

f1: CHARLES LECLERC WINS FOR FERRARI AT MONZA

view all comments

user23: bro heard fernando was gonna steal his brakes and simply just drove so fast he didn't need them

user24: he was like 'oh you want my head on a stick? TRY AND CATCH ME'

yourusername: pretty boy is so so talented it's not fair

yourusername: who am i kidding

yourusername: STUNT ON THOSE HOES I LOVE YOU BABY

charles_leclerc: thank you baby, i simply had to drive so fast so i could give you a kiss

charles_leclerc: and also so i could tell your dad to SUCK ON THAT OLD MAN

user25: he's had too much champagne and might actually get himself killed

user26: i will throw myself in front of that sword for him

yourusername: you and me too buddy - i'll cover your drinks for this evening

fernandoalo_oficial: i still want him dead

charles_leclerc: what the fuck do you want from me? i just won? did you see that freak of an orange car? i look after your daughter like i looked after those tyres

yourusername: so romantic 🤭

fernandoalo_oficial: he just compared you to tyres? have some standards i raised you better?

yourusername: believe me, i do have standards - he's special xx

fernandoalo_oficial: i also won monza with ferrari he's not that special

user27: at least he's stopped with the samurai sword talk?

user28: he did say he still wants him dead though

maxverstappen1: @yourusername why couldn't you have dated lando? would've made this championship a lot easier

landonorris: HUH?

yourusername: please refer to my previous comment about standards

charles_leclerc: hehehehehe

landonorris: HUH???

charles_leclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 4,523,099 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: grazie mille tifosi !! this is for you and all of your support. i'm glad my family and my love were here to see this win as well. fernando, bring your sword, i'll fight for your daughter's hand.

view all comments

user29: i love this family and i've known them a week

user30: fernando might have to go through me as well at this point

yourusername: i love you so much and you have deserved this and more for so so long xx

charles_leclerc: i couldn't do it without you (and our weird little grid family)

yourusername: you're my favourite person in the world and i just love to see you happy

charles_leclerc: you make me the happiest man in the world

yourusername: i love you

charles_leclerc: i love you too

user31: as cute as all this is ^^ where is this duel

user32: can someone PLEASE STREAM IT !!!!! I WILL PAY

user33: I NEED IT I NEED IT

fernandoalo_oficial: come outside

lancestroll: he spent all of the debrief sharpening the sword btw

charles_leclerc: i'm ready girlypop

fernandoalo_oficial: GIRLYPOP ???

yourusername: PEACE AND LOVE BOZO

maxverstappen1: can we get this show on the road please?

lewishamilton: charles please hurry up i've got some serious cash on this tussle

yourusername: how much we talking?

charles_leclerc: i might die and you're checking the wager?

yourusername: because i have faith in you !!!!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial and 2,136,344 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: he's alive and he's a winner! the king of monza can do what he wants

view all comments

user35: prince of monaco? king of monza? bro is collecting titles

yourusername: my husband next 🤞🏻

charles_leclerc: bet

user36: is ANYONE GOING TO TELL US WHAT HAPPENED IN THE DUEL

georgerussell63: it was extremely unprofessional and there will be an extensive powerpoint covering how this won't happen again

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll fight you next time george

user37: don't go off TOPIC

charles_leclerc: i out strategised him lol

oscarpiastri: what he means is that he surprised fernando from behind and wouldn't stop hugging him until he agreed that he wouldn't skewer him like a kebab

charles_leclerc: and it worked! now look he's on my boat giving me his blessing

user38: you're telling me charles hugged his way out of the conflict?

user39: perhaps the most babygirl he's ever been

user40: we need the pictures SHOW IT TO ME RACHEL

fernandoalo_oficial: fine, i guess he's okay. i'm not calling him the king of monza though

yourusername: i knew you'd come around

fernandoalo_oficial: i love my daughter SORRY

yourusername: don't lie to me you only calmed down and accepted it because i called in the reinforcements

user41: i'm crying she called babysitters for her dad

yourusername: jenson and mark, idk how you deal with him

jensonbutton: the stress of him and his antics keep me skinny

aussiegrit: i think we're all trauma bonded

charles_leclerc: i'll be the king of monza, if you'll be my queen

charles_leclerc: and i will continue to do what i want

yourusername: i'll be your queen anywhere you want

yourusername: and if doing what you want includes fighting my dad... let's turn it down a lil

charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything

fin.

note: here yall go - this was in my drafts half done from monza weekend but life got crazy

[autistichalsin]

In retrospect, four years later, I feel like the Isabel Fall incident was just the biggest ignored cautionary tale modern fandom spaces have ever had. Yes, it wasn't limited to fandom, it was also a professional author/booktok type argument, but it had a lot of crossover.

Stop me if you've heard this one before: a writer, whether fan or pro, publishes a work. If one were to judge a book by its cover, something we are all taught in Kindergarten shouldn't happen but has a way of occurring regardless, one might find that there was something that seemed deeply problematic about this work. Maybe the title or summary alluded to something Wrong happening, or maybe the tags indicated there was problematic kinks or relationships. And that meant the story was Bad. So, a group of people takes to the Twittersphere to inform everyone who will listen why the work, and therefore the author, are Bad. The author, receiving an avalanche of abuse and harassment, deactivates their account, and checks into a mental health facility for monitoring for suicidal ideation. They never return to their writing space, and the harassers get a slap on the wrist (if that- usually they get praise and high-fives all around) and start waiting for their next victim to transgress.

Sounds awful familiar, doesn't it?

Isabel Fall's case, though, was even more extreme for many reasons. See, she made the terrible mistake of using a transphobic meme as the genesis to actually explore issues of gender identity.

More specifically, she used the phrase "I sexually identify as an attack helicopter" to examine how marginalized identities, when they become more accepted, become nothing more than a tool for the military-industrial complex to rebrand itself as a more personable and inclusive atrocity; a chance to pursue praise for bombing brown children while being progressive, because queer people, too, can help blow up brown children now! It also contained an examination of identity and how queerness is intrinsic to a person, etc.

But... well, if harassers ever bothered to read the things they critique, we wouldn't be here, would we? So instead, they called Isabel a transphobic monster for the title alone, even starting a misinformation campaign to claim she was, in fact, a cis male nazi using a fake identity to psyop the queer community.

A few days later, after days of horrific abuse and harassment, Isabel requested that Clarkesworld magazine pull the story. She checked in to a psych ward with suicidal thoughts. That wasn't all, though; the harassment was so bad that she was forced to out herself as trans to defend against the claims.

Only... we know this type of person, the fandom harassers, don't we? You know where this is going. Outing herself did nothing to stop the harassment. No one was willing to read the book, much less examine how her sexuality and gender might have influenced her when writing it.

So some time later, Isabel deleted her social media. She is still alive, but "Isabel Fall" is not- because the harassment was so bad that Isabel detransitioned/closeted herself, too traumatized to continue living her authentic life.

Supposed trans allies were so outraged at a fictional portrayal of transness, written by a trans woman, that they harassed a real life trans woman into detransitioning.

It's heartbreakingly familiar, isn't it? Many of us in fandom communities have been in Isabel's shoes, even if the outcome wasn't so extreme (or in some cases, when it truly was). Most especially, many of us, as marginalized writers speaking from our own experiences in some way, have found that others did not enjoy our framework for examining these things, and hurt us, members of those identities, in defense of "the community" as a nebulous undefined entity.

There's a quote that was posted in a news writeup about the whole saga that was published a year after the fact. The quote is:

The delineation between paranoid and reparative readings originated in 1995, with influential critic Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick. A paranoid reading focuses on what’s wrong or problematic about a work of art. A reparative reading seeks out what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art, even if the work is flawed. Importantly, a reparative reading also tends to consider what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art for someone who isn’t the reader. This kind of nuance gets completely worn away on Twitter, home of paranoid readings. “[You might tweet], ‘Well, they didn’t discuss X, Y, or Z, so that’s bad!’ Or, ‘They didn’t’ — in this case — ‘discuss transness in a way that felt like what I feel about transness, therefore it is bad.’ That flattens everything into this very individual, very hostile way of reading,” Mandelo says. “Part of reparative reading is trying to think about how a story cannot do everything. Nothing can do everything. If you’re reading every text, fiction, or criticism looking for it to tick a bunch of boxes — like if it represents X, Y, and Z appropriately to my definitions of appropriate, and if it’s missing any of those things, it’s not good — you’re not really seeing the close focus that it has on something else.”

A paranoid reading describes perfectly what fandom culture has become in the modern times. It is why "proship", once simply a word for common sense "don't engage with what you don't like, and don't harass people who create it either" philosophies, has become the boogeyman of fandom, a bad and dangerous word. The days of reparative readings, where you would look for things you enjoyed, are all but dead. Fiction is rarely a chance to feel joy; it's an excuse to get angry, to vitriolically attack those different from oneself while surrounded with those who are the same as oneself. It's an excuse to form in-groups and out-groups that must necessarily be in a constant state of conflict, lest it come across like This side is accepting That side's faults. In other words, fandom has become the exact sort of space as the nonfandom spaces it used to seek to define itself against.

It's not about joy. It's not about resonance with plot or characters. It's about hate. It's about finding fault. If they can't find any in the story, they will, rest assured, create it by instigating fan wars- dividing fandom into factions and mercilessly attacking the other.

And that's if they even went so far as to read the work they're critiquing. The ones they don't bother to read, as you saw above, fare even worse. If an AO3 writer tagged an abuser/victim ship, it's bad, it's fetishism, even if the story is about how the victim escapes. If a trans writer uses the title "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter" to find a framework to dissect rainbow-washing the military-industrial complex, it's unforgivable. It's a cesspool of kneejerk reactions, moralizing discomfort, treating good/evil as dichotomous categories that can never be escaped, and using that complex as an excuse to heap harassment on people who "deserve it." Because once you are Bad, there is no action against you that is too Bad for you to deserve.

Isabel Fall's story follows this so step-by-step that it's like a textbook case study on modern fandom behavior.

Isabel Fall wrote a short story with an inflammatory title, with a genesis in transphobic mockery, in the hopes of turning it into a genuine treatise on the intersection of gender and sexuality and the military-industrial complex. But because audiences are unprepared for the idea of inflammatory rhetoric as a tool to force discomfort to then force deeper introspection... they zeroed in on the discomfort. "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter"- the title phrase, not the work- made them uncomfortable. We no longer teach people how to handle discomfort; we live in a world of euphemism and glossing over, a world where people can't even type out the words "kill" and rape", instead substituting "unalive" and "grape." We don't deal with uncomfortable feelings anymore; we censor them, we transform them, we sanitize them. When you are unable to process discomfort, when you are never given self-soothing tools, your only possible conclusion is that anything Uncomfortable must be Bad, and the creator must either be censored too, or attacked into conformity so that you never again experience the horrors of being Uncomfortable.

So the masses took to Twitter, outraged. They were Uncomfortable, and that de facto meant that they had been Wronged. Because the content was related to trans identity issues, that became the accusation; it was transphobic, inherently. It couldn't be a critique of bigger and more fluid systems than gender identity alone; it was a slight against trans people. And no amount of explanations would change their minds now, because they had already been aggrieved and made to feel Uncomfortable.

Isabel Fall was now a Bad Person, and we all know what fandom spaces do to Bad People. Bad People, because they are Bad, will always be deserving of suicide bait and namecalling and threatening. Once a person is Bad, there is no way to ever become Good again. Not by refuting the accusations (because the accusations are now self-evident facts; "there is a callout thread against them" is its own tautological proof that wrongdoing has happened regardless of the veracity of the claims in the callout) and not by apologizing and changing, because if you apologize and admit you did the Bad thing, you are still Bad, and no matter what you do in future, you were once Bad and that needs to be brought up every time you are mentioned. If you are bad, you can NEVER be more than what you were at your worst (in their definition) moment. Your are now ontologically evil, and there is no action taken against you that can be immoral.

So Isabel was doomed, naturally. It didn't matter that she outed herself to explain that she personally had lived the experience of a trans woman and could speak with authority on the atrocity of rainbow-washing the military industrial complex as a proaganda tool to capture progressives. None of it mattered. She had written a work with an Uncomfortable phrase for a title, the readers were Uncomfortable, and someone had to pay for it.

And that's the key; pay for it. Punishment. Revenge. It's never about correcting behavior. Restorative justice is not in this group's vocabulary. You will, incidentally, never find one of these folks have a stance against the death penalty; if you did Bad as a verb, you are Bad as an intrinsic, inescapable adjective, and what can you do to incorrigible people but kill them to save the Normal people? This is the same principle, on a smaller scale, that underscores their fandom activities; if a Bad fan writes Bad fiction, they are a Bad person, and their fandom persona needs to die to save Normal fans the pain of feeling Uncomfortable.

And that's what happened to Isabel Fall. The person who wrote the short story is very much alive, but the pseudonym of Isabel Fall, the identity, the lived experiences coming together in concert with imagination to form a speculative work to critique deeply problematic sociopolitical structures? That is dead. Isabel Fall will never write again, even if by some miracle the person who once used the name does. Even if she ever decides to restart her transition, she will be permanently scarred by this experience, and will never again be able to share her experience with us as a way to grow our own empathy and challenge our understanding of the world. In spirit, but not body, fandom spaces murdered Isabel Fall.

And that's... fandom, anymore. That's just what is done, routinely and without question, to Bad people. Good people are Good, so they don't make mistakes, and they never go too far when dealing with Bad people. And Bad people, well, they should have thought before they did something Bad which made them Bad people.

Isabel Fall's harassment happened in early 2020, before quarantine started, but it was in so many ways a final chance for fandom to hit the breaks. A chance for fandom to think collectively about what it wanted to be, who it wanted to be for and how it wanted to do it. And fandom looked at this and said, "more, please." It continues to harass marginalized people, especially fans of color and queen fans, into suffering mental breakdowns. With gusto.

Any ideas of reparative reading is dead. Fandom runs solely on paranoid readings. And so too is restorative justice gone for fandom transgressions, real or imagined. It is now solely about punitive, vigilante justice. It's a concerted campaign to make sure oddballs conform or die (in spirit, but sometimes even physically given how often mentally ill individuals are pushed into committing suicide).

It's a deeply toxic environment and I'm sad to say that Isabel Fall's story was, in retrospect, a sort of event horizon for the fandom. The gravitational pull of these harassment campaigns is entirely too strong now and there is no escaping it. I'm sorry, I hate to say something so bleak, but thinking the last few days about the state of fandom (not just my current one but also others I watch from the outside), I just don't think we can ever go back to peaceful "for joy" engagement, not when so many people are determined to use it as an outlet for lateral aggression against other people.

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs. 

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big. 

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.” 

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[femmehepbvrn]

I have so many thoughts and feelings about hearing Mary Tyler Moore as a guest caller on frasier that I was to lose my mind but I won't I'll just go to sleep in an hour or so

[malavera]

“Shh, can you be quiet?” (18+) Logan Howlett Headcanon

pairing: dom!logan howlett x female reader

warning: SMUT! MDNI. Reader being on top, reader and logan fucking beside’s sleeping wade on the couch, logan’s filthy mouth, orgasm denial

taglist: @wildlyobsessive @velvrei comment if you want to be tagged!

p.s: he looks so deliciously mean in this gif ooo

it was a movie night for you three that of course, wade wants to have in once a week.

it’s actually either he’s really meant it so he could feel like a family and that because he really loves you and Logan, or it’s actually because he wants to watch and listen to you both having sex

“if we do this we’re really giving into what he wants.” you rolled your eyes after spitting the facts to Logan

he grunts before he roughly grip your hips and move you back and forth on top of his clothed cock

“i don’t care. i just want to get inside you right now, fuck you’re so sexy, baby.” you fluttered your eyes shut leaning hour head back and softly moan

“shh, you gotta be quiet though. asleep or not, i don’t want this little shit listening to your sexy moans, only i get to.” Logan grunts

“you know i can’t.” you whimper

Logan hissed and grunts before he ripped your shorts off along with your panties with ease

he roughly stuff your panties into your mouth as you rolled your eyes from finding this situation rather hot

and there it goes, his thick and veiny cock penetrating you with him guiding you down to take it all in

“urghh..” Logan quietly groaned, leaning his head back against the cushion

“fuck… such a good pussy.” he whispered to himself with his eyes closed

if you could moan out loud, you would but instead you just lean your head back and start riding his cock

as much as he wants you to be quiet, it didn’t seem like he’d want to keep his mouth shut

he’s whispering all kinds of filth to your ear and he knows the effect of his voice in your ear

just by speaking very low sends chill down your spine

“fuck look at you, always ready to be my cock slut.”

“yeah..? yeah.. haha keep going bub.”

imagine his breathy laughs mixed with his grunts…

“fucking me cock so good bub, argh god.” you whimpered, eyebrows scrunched together watching him lean back for a second rolling his eyes to the back of his head

“come on baby, make me cum.” he taunts

“yeah… yeah haha keep it like that..”

“mmhmm.. keep going.”

you abruptly stopped, in fact almost froze when you heard wade’s grunt

you twist your head to find him still asleep

logan’s hand grabbed your chin and roughly turns your point of view back to him

“hey, who told you to stop? no one. keep going.” you whimpered before you begin riding him again this time with all the strength you have

“that’s it bub… there you go.” logan’s hand sneaks up from your torso to grab your neck, choking you

and thats what made you ride him faster

“are you gonna cum for me?” you nodded your head frantically

“you gotta make me cum first bub, come on. faster. yeah yeah yeah.. ggrhh.”

you whimpered, shutting your eyes

“fffuck… i’m cumming- i’m cumming-.. i’m gonna c-cum-” logan’s thigh stuttered before he jolted his hips upwards stopping you from moving as he is reaching his high to fill you with his warm cum

“o-ohh.. fuck fuck..” logan panted, emptying his load inside you

“gahh.. fuck.” he leans back against the cushion, you watching him with doe eyes

you haven’t reached your high, it’s very unusual for him to deny your orgasm unless… you did something wrong

logan chuckles from looking at your expression

“don’t worry bub. you’ll get to cum. only this time, and i’ll be saying it once more, this time only.” you look at him dumbfounded before he peered his eyes to the side and you follow

it was who is already staring at you with a smirk

“ooohhh yes i promise you peanut, but if she comes crawling back for my cock, don’t blame me.”

and i oop.

[audisive]

♪ BROOKLYN BABY. (💌) – previous part

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: the 141 believes the scot now.

tags: fluff, romance, soft!simon, you're basically their mom atp lol, bickering, there's a bet between gaz n soap, gaz secretly wants you shh, ooc characters, not proofread, price being the gentleman he is, he's seriously just watching everything unfold

       It's not always that Ghost is willing to let the 141 stay at his house for their traditions – which is just drinking beer and watching sports, really. In fact, he's always said something about his place being empty, so they always settled on someone else's. They stop asking after a year, and in turn, he stops having reasons.

It's not until Soap pops the question again when everyone else's houses are unavailable for a variety of reasons, his being that he left his faucet on and now his shitty apartment is flooded. You can only imagine the suspicion and shock when Ghost agrees (or, rather, simply grunts).

The drive is long, nothing short of 5 hours, and Soap spends the better half of it bickering with either Gaz or Ghost. He falls asleep by the next half, and when he awakes, he gawks at the lovely looking house before their car. There's two stories to it, a balcony, a front porch, and there's no doubt that there's a backyard.

Contrary to popular belief, no, it is not all black or plain at all. It's all equally surprising to them. The Brit isn't the type to care about the appearance and state of a house, usually. They do envision him in a mostly empty apartment with only a bed and a bathroom, though.

There's a delicate touch to where a rough man lives; the smell is almost heavenly when they enter the house. It's homely, the scent of newly washed sheets and lingering smell of food; there's a cat perched on the living room table that Ghost scratches the head of lovingly in a way that's so casual and natural. It's like they're at the gates of–

"Simon!" Heaven's bells ring in their ears, luring them into the doorway of the living room, and the sound of feet padding against the cold floor. There comes a soft-looking thing running into Ghost's arms, completely engulfing you.

You only notice the three familiar faces of your boyfriend's team members – though you know he considers them family if anything – when you pull away. An angel clad in only a cami top, shorts, and Simon's hand around your waist, you turn to look at the group with a surprised look on your pretty – Soap thinks that God, you're so pretty – face. "Oh, hi," you smile sweetly, obviously awkward at the silence and the staring.

"It's been a while," Ever the gentleman, the gruff voice is the first to speak up with your name uttered, the only who's actually met you – John Price. Soap is too enamored with the way you hold yourself and the fact that, holy fuck, even your name's pretty. Gaz raises a brow at the captain's greeting.

You smile once more – a genuine one now. "Nice to see you again, John."

"'S rude to stare, Johnny." Simon speaks out, a smirk under the mask. "Please excuse him, miss," Gaz adds, this beautiful man, and offers a charming smile.

"You must be Gaz," you hold your hand out, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine," Kyle forgets that a hand could be this soft and gentle, "and please, call me Kyle." He barely stops himself from turning your hand in his to kiss the back of it like one should to a lady so fair; his lieutenant has good taste in women, he'll give him that. And when you're out of the area, Soap is sure to rub it in Gaz's face. I told ye so! LT wis hidin' somethin' from us. A pretty something, that is. You don't miss the way he slips a twenty-dollar bill into the Scottish man's hand.

"Glad tae meet ye," Soap finally says, winking. "Understand why he wis hidin' a bonnie lass like ye from us." There's a mischievous glint in his eye, almost naturally so.

"A'm hurt, LT, but whit can I do? After all, we're just a couple o' brutes, arenae we?"

Simon watches in amusement, "you'll live." Soap is quick to move to your side as you lead the small group of hulking men through your shared home after that.

Simon is visibly more relaxed with you around. He's comfortable, that much is a given, with the way he's taking up most of the thankfully large couch with his manspreading. So is the 141. They're pampered like spoiled children (or pets, really) through the whole day.

Instead of just beer and faucet water, they're offered a variety of drinks in the kitchen that's enough to be considered a private bar. Instead of an empty belly unhealthily stuffed with beer and a mix of mediocre takeout, they're met with warm homecooked meals. They lose track of time quickly; the night falls by the time they've tired themselves out, and they've had not one, but two meals thanks to you.

(They're sure to commend your cooking skills and think of how lucky this tall brute of a man is blessed with a woman so soft and pliant and wonderful and– while Price is the one to be the most grateful, Soap compliments you the most. "A can practically taste the love." You laugh in turn.)

Gaz is the first to speak after a meal so lovely, they could simply just sleep on the floor comfortably and wake to the same smell of home. "It's a bit late, love, we should probably go."

"Thank you for having us," Price smiles down at you kindly.

"Ye've been lovely, bonnie." He wants to stay some more.

"Wait," you stop them, looking up at Simon for further approval. He's already looking at you with a reassuring brush of his thumb on the side of your hip and a nod. You turn your eyes back at them. "It's already late, you three should stay the night. We have enough room for everyone."

There comes, "we don't wanna intrude," then, "we can take care of ourselves, it's alright."

"Please, I insist." Your smile brightens, "I'll even cook breakfast before you leave."

The mohawk moves with a sigh, "now tha's just no' fair, lass. How are we gonna say no tae that?" You giggle. Only then do they find themselves tucked away in the guest room, and boy, you were right when you said it could fit them all if not more.

On the way to the bathroom in the late hours of the night, Soap catches a glimpse of light through the crack of your bedroom door to see his oh-so strong lieutenant, vulnerable in your arms. There's something natural about the way you cradle the large man and kiss his hair like it's part of your DNA, like you're programmed to do that 'cause Soap thinks you're simply unreal.

He's proud of his lieutenant, this lucky bastard. He turns another blind eye once more, but he's paid in full with another fulfilling meal by the morning.

[cockkette]

baby alonso

charles leclerc x alonso!reader

warnings - swearing, google translate spanish, dad!fernando, tomfoolery + shenanigans (it is alonso!reader so are we suprised), i think that's it xoxo

face claim - girls on pinterest

y/n.alonso

liked by astonmartinf1, fernandoalo_oficial and 409,345 others

y/n.alonso: causing chaos in the aston garage per usual 😘

comments

astonmartinf1: not too much chaos though... right

y/n.alonso: of course

fernandoalo_oficial: my daughter is an angel and can do no wrong 🤨

user1: praise the alonso father daughter duo we all say in unison

user2: and to think this man committed war crimes

y/n.alonso: allegedly* 🙄

liked by fernandoalo_oficial

fernandoalo_oficial: now that you finished with that waste of time you can come to every race just like when you were little cariño!!

y/n.alonso: by 'that waste of time' do you mean the university that you payed for?

fernandoalo_oficial: yes i'm glad we are on the same page mija 🩷

user3: you heard it here first fernando alonso says university isn't important

astonmartinf1: this is not the view if the aston martin f1 team or any of our sponsors

user4: is he trying to kill admin?

astonmartinf1: i fear he might be 🥲

user5: baby alonso is the paddock princess

user6: she is living the dream for real

y/n.alonso: it is pretty sweet being a nepo child 💪

lance_stroll: you know it 😎

user7: i'm praying for aston points

y/n.alonso: hang on i'll pull some strings brb

y/n.alonso: dad! lance! score some points!

liked by astonmartinf1

user8: she's so pretty 😍

charles_leclerc: she really is

carlossainz55: bro do you actually have a death wish

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll see you on the track leclerc 🙂

y/n.alonso: papá!

astonmartinf1

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, y/n.alonso and 245,071 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, lance_stroll and y/n.alonso

astonmartinf1: race weekend with a special guest 😉

comments

user9: we love baby alonso

user10: BABY ALONSO

user11: get her to sort aston martin tf out

y/n.alonso: guys i'm trying my best 😔

fernandoalo_oficial: mija lawrence is going to make me go to another pr training session if you keep doing this

user12: the king can't get locked up in pr jail!!

charles_leclerc: i might have to swing by the aston garage 😉

fernandoalo_oficial: you might fucking not

charles_leclerc: yes fernando, sorry fernando

user13: charles is going to get himself run off the track

user14: charles is a braver man than me fernando might kill him

y/n.alonso: thank you for having me! it's always so so much fun 🩷

liked by astonmartinf1

user15: petition for y/n to be at every race ever please

user16: where do i sign

user17: her paddock fits are literally everything to me

lance_stroll: she has started to give me fashion tips to 'inspire' me please don't encourage her

danielricciardo: you might want to start taking the advice...

lance_stroll: oh 😦

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by y/n.alonso, charles_leclerc and 324,391 others

fernandoalo_oficial: i think i need to fire my new race engineer she's mean

comments

y/n.alonso: boo 👎👎

fernandoalo_oficial: don't boo your own father

y/n.alonso: don't be a boring old man

sebastianvettel: she's got you there mate

fernandoalo_oficial: what the fuck are you doing here!?

jensonbutton: she gagged you fr 💅

aussiegrit: ate and left no crumbs

sebastianvettel: slay 💋

fernandoalo_oficial: what is actually happening

user18: i swear they will never miss an opportunity to try humble nando

liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and aussiegrit

user19: i'm sure charles wouldn't mind having y/n as a race engineer

fernandoalo_oficial: no.

user20: the way i would never speak again

user21: noo i would love them together

liked by charles_leclerc

user22: in my head they ARE together

astonmartinf1: i mean we did get points this weekend soooo...

y/n.alonso: you're welcome xxx

y/n.alonso

liked by charles_leclerc, astonmartinf1 and 283,912 others

y/n.alonso: home sweet home 🏠

comments

user23: how is charles always in the likes before me? i have notifications on?!?

charles_leclerc: you snooze you lose mate

user24: he really is just like us (in love with y/n)

user25: too bad he's too scared of alonso to do anything about it 🤷‍♀️

yourbestfriend: your outfits always eat pretty girl!

y/n.alonso: aww thank you baby

user26: oh to be called baby by y/n

liked by charles_leclerc

fernandoalo_oficial: have fun!

fernandoalo_oficial: not too much fun though be careful and safe

y/n.alonso: yes papa

user27: he forgot who his daughter was for a second there

liked by fernandoalo_oficial

astonmartinf1: see you next race week!

y/n.alonso: wouldn't miss it!

user28: yesss

iamrebeccad: i miss you (and your gossip)

y/n.alonso: miss you too (don't worry i have plenty more)

user29: show it to me rachel!!!!

charles_leclerc: i'm in madrid too we should meet up

fernandoalo_oficial: what are you doing??

y/n.alonso: i might take you up on that offer cha 🤭

fernandoalo_oficial: noooo stop this

user30: this is sending me 😂

user31: the way they are fully ignoring him

user32: i won't ever get over y/n calling him cha

liked by charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc

liked by y/n.alonso, carlossainz55and 592,842 others

charles_leclerc: time to unwind

comments

user33: wait is that y/n???

user34: it totally looks like her

user35: my chay/n heart can't take this

user36: the matching shirt with the dress? please!!!

user37: charles + spain = slaggy pictures

user38: and we thank him for it

liked by y/n.alonso

user39: omg y/n does not give a fuck

carlossainz55: where was my invite bro?

charles_leclerc: i'm so sorry i was too busy...

carlosainz55: i thought it was bros before hoes

chalres_leclerc: nah my hoe is 4 life

user40: so unserious i swear

pierregasly: i love knowing things nobody else knows

user41: tell me please

user42: pierre is my biggest opp rn

pierregasly: don't hate the player hate the game

user43: he is the king of gossip

liked by charles_leclerc

user44: i've been manifesting this for months i hope it's y/n

user45: oh so you're crazy crazy?

y/n.alonso

liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc and 12,812 others

caption- look who i bumped into 😉

replies

charles_leclerc: you say this like we didn't come here together

y/n.alonso: i'm trying to be mysterious and nonchalant

charles_leclerc: dork 🤓

y/n.alonso: you know you love it

user46: OMG

user47: this is so important to me

fernandoalo_oficial: tell him not to try anything

y/n.alonso: whatever papa 🙄

charles_leclerc

liked by y/n.alonso, carlossainz55 and 872,849 others

tagged: y/n.alonso

charles_leclerc: happy 6 months mon amour 🩷

comments

user48: they are already my favorite couple ever

user49: the way i will be yapping about them i am about to get at least 10 times more annoying

user50: as you should tbh

user51: i'm so so happy for them but this might take fernando out

user52: i just know he is being restrained by aston martin rn so he can't comment

astonmartinf1: 🤐

user53: the goat is being silenced

pierregasly: now the secret is out i feel less special

user54: it's a tough life out here for the gossipy hoes

pierregasly: don't i know it

y/n.alonso: i love you

charles_leclerc: i love you more

user55: ew are they going to start being sappy on main now

pierregasly: i fear they might

liked by charles_leclerc and y/n.alonso

oscarpiastri: bwoah

user56: felt that

user57: charles has... game?

maxverstappen1: we are all as surprised as you are mate

user58: flabbergasted fr

maxverstappen1: he bamboozled us all with his loserness

user59: max i know you're not talking rn

y/n.alonso

liked by iamrebeccad, charles_leclerc and 17251 others

caption- this jacket looks supa cute!

replies

fernandoalo_oficial: ewww it's so ugly 🤢

y/n.alonso: papa i'm sorry for not telling you about charles earlier

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm not over it yet i feel betrayed

fernandoalo_oficial: i just need time mija

y/n.alonso: you are so dramatic old man

fernandoalo_oficial: what the sigma?

user60: my favorite wag and nepo baby

charles_leclerc: please tell me you bought it mon coeur

y/n.alonso: yep! and when you get back to the hotel i'll be waiting for you wearing just that

charles_leclerc: fuck i'm on my way right now i'll just get the food delivered you aren't going anywhere

y/n.alonso: yes sir

charles_leclerc: you kill me cherie

user61: I JUST KNOW CHARLES IS LOSING HIS SHIT

charles_leclerc

liked by yourbestfriend, fernandoalo_oficial and 436,592 others

tagged: y/n.alonso

charles_leclerc: my ferrari girl ❤️

comments

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm still mad but no one told me but this is actually kind of cute ig

charles_leclerc: woo he likes me now

y/.alonso: don't push it amor 💋

user62: i'm sobbing he loves her so much

user63: if my bf ain't like this then i don't want it

y/n.alonso: he is pretty great icl

fernandoalo_oficial: i think i preferred when i didn't know about this... now you don't shut up about him

user64: she is so me

y/n.alonso: i'm you're ferrari girl

charles_leclerc: that's right baby

user65: shut up shut up i can't handle this

user66: they are literally everything

user67: i don't know how charles managed to hide this for 6 months

user68: now he posts y/n all the time 🤭

user69: ikr its so cute!!

carlossainz55: he can't keep a secret to save his life so he just yapped to me and pierre all. the. time

pierregasly: and he wasn't exactly subtle in the comments 🤨

scuderiaferrari: y/n is a ferrari girl confirmed 😦

liked by y/n.alonso

user70: everyone is a ferrari fan

user71: even if they are not, they are a ferrari fan

a/n - thank you for reading i hope you enjoyed and as always any feedback is apppreciated <3

[isa-renee]

the knowledge that i used to be such a grammar and vocab pedant will forever haunt me like whyyyy was i such an obnoxious ten year old

[favroitecrime]

lumping genocide and ethnic cleansing under “social issues” in an attempt to convince yourself that the airheads you worship don’t need to speak out is definitely something.

you cannot possibly look at the horrors emerging from Palestine (or Congo or Sudan or, etc.) and come to the conclusion that people with platforms that give them access to millions are allowed to not speak out and encourage their fans to contact their reps. especially when said celebrities are directly benefiting from the ongoing genocide and haven’t batted an eye at the existence of the apartheid state. literally what about being a celebrity has magically separated these people from their basic humanity and why are any of us expected to sit back and let them get away with it?

every 6 months we have the "stop wanting celebrities' to speak out against social issues" talk. we all agree. and then 6 months later everyone's goldfish brain resets and we're back at square one.

[parfaitblogs]

false god ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer (literally) cannot wait to show you how pretty he thinks you are tonight. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: established relationship. public stuff. fingering. the team is there. readers wearing a skirt. he looooves you. they're at a bar. kinda soft dom!spence but like only if you squint. i have never posted smut before if im missing tags tell meee word count: 1.9k a/n: biting the bullet. posting smut (shudders). i have a singular roman empire and it is spencer reid plus fingering. i think about it sooo often. i do not think he would be the type to actually do this in public so yes it is self indulgent yes u can all call me crazy!! idgaf!!! i feel like the pacing in this is kinda weird pls forgive i never write smut :< if it's bad don't tell me let me be blissfully ignorant thank YEW!!

You were pretty sure there was something wrong with him (Spencer Reid). Something fundamentally broken in his brain, because he had not said a word to you that made sense from the second he picked you up from your apartment that evening. 

A lot of 'mhm's' and 'yeah's', which from maybe any other man would be normal, was not from him. He didn't speak incredibly eloquently, per se. But he did always respond to you in sentences. He liked to talk, so this lack of it was concerning you. 

He was seated next to you, in the booth Penelope Garcia had scouted out the second she stepped foot into the bar you were all meeting at. It was supposed to be a simple evening. Some drinks, some talking, winding down after the awful case you had just come back from. Spencer's lack of talking had you feeling anything but (simple). 

"Are you okay?" you had asked him when half the team stood up to go purchase the second round of drinks for everyone, and he wordlessly nodded his head, staring at the glass of water on the table in front of him, condensation sweating down to the wood. 

He wasn't. But there was only so much you could do for him when he was shutting down, especially in a public setting, so you nodded your own head, and settled into conversation with JJ instead. 

His hand found your thigh at some point during the conversation, and while you had flinched at its first contact, you didn't think much of it — he was never one for huge displays of affection, but he loved having his hands on you. An act as simple as a hand on your back had you swooning now, because you knew in his mind, he was thinking everything there was to possibly think about you. 

What you did think much of, was the way it crept higher as the team returned with drinks, and the noise from your booth got louder as conversations clashed with each other. 

Your head turned to the side, eyebrows furrowing, but he was still staring at his half-drank glass of water, with no real expression on his face. Frustratingly so.

He was never cruel, you learned. It was why his next action didn't occur until you had finished your sentence to JJ, as if to prevent what would've been your vocal chords tightening and lifting the octave of your voice as you spoke. 

It was such a featherlike touch it was hardly there, and you probably wouldn't have noticed it if he didn't do it again. And again. And again. One of his fingers brushing delicately over the centre of your underwear in a quick swiping motion, that had your head snapping to the side, meeting his jawline and his unwavering gaze with his glass of water. 

"Spencer," you muttered, and it was only then did he tilt his head down to look at you, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

His hand wrapped around the side of your inner thigh and tugged you across the seat, closer to him, his head ducking down to speak. 

"You're really pretty," he murmured, and your eyebrows only furrowed further at that.

"Thank you," you decided to say. "But what are you doing?"

"I just wanna touch you. Is that okay?"

You were silent for a moment. Maybe a moment too long, because he was already pulling his hand off your thigh, nodding his head.

"I mean, yes," you quickly say, catching his wrist before it could stray too far. "I was just confused where this was coming from."

"I really like the skirt," he explained, and your lips parted and an amused huff of air left them. Of course.

"Me too."

"Need you to wear it more often," he then said, his hand finding its way back between your thighs. "Please?"

"Maybe," you said, because it was all you could say, considering he was moving things along a little bit faster now that you had consented (not that you think you would've denied it). 

His ministrations were small enough that you could keep your voice steady as you kept conversation going with JJ, but firm enough that you squirmed every thirty seconds. He, on the other hand, was acting as though he was doing nothing to you, engaged in a conversation about the origins of pasta, with David Rossi. 

"I mean, in Greek mythology, it suggests that the Greek god Vulcan invented a device that made strings of dough. Which could be classified as the first spaghetti," he said, and at the same time, his fingers slipped beneath your underwear, brushing over your embarrassingly wet folds. 

You watched him stiffen, only because you had killed your conversation with JJ with one too many 'uh-huh's', and his jaw locked.

You were merely observant as he circled your clit a few times, until you were picking up your drink and forcing yourself to sip on it in order to keep your mouth busy — instead of releasing a moan that you really didn't want the team to hear. 

His gaze flicked to you for only half a second, and you met his eyes with an embarrassingly desperate look, and he laughed, oh so quietly, before a finger slipped into you. 

It was so gentle you thought you would go insane, and he rested the finger there for a few seconds as he responded to an argument Rossi had made about the Italian's inventing bolognese or whatever. You weren't really listening. 

The internal war you were dealing with; a pool of fiery butterflies in your stomach and the constant screaming to stay quiet in your brain was a stark contrast to Spencer's relaxed state. Because he had lazily began to move his finger like it was Sunday morning and he was easing you awake, and not in the middle of a Virginia bar with conversations amongst the team happening around you. 

You hated him for that.

Your hips squirmed when he crooked his finger, and your free hand bolted to his wrist, holding his hand still just before he could do it again, and elicit a sound from you.

The second Rossi had become immersed in something Morgan had said, Spencer's gaze was returning to you, an amused smile stretched across his lips. 

"You okay, honey?" he murmured, ducking his face down to kiss your cheek, heat blossoming on the spot. 

"I am trying so hard not to make a noise," you said, and he smiled, and you could feel it against your skin, wonderfully so.

"And you're doing an excellent job of it."

"You know, if you just took me to the bathroom..." you trailed off, eyes flickering up to him. 

"Not happening. Do you know how many germs are in public bathrooms?"

"Probably as many as the seat you're currently fingering me on," you hissed, voice hushed. 

At that, he pushed the heel of his hand against your clit, and you choked out a mewl. 

"I can stop," he said, though it didn't come out as a warning. You knew he only offered it because he would get the reaction of you violently shaking your head. "Right. No bathroom."

"No bathroom," you agreed with a flip of your stomach. 

His attention was captured by a conversation again, and with it, his finger began moving again. He was moving it with such an expertise that if this was any other situation you'd be impressed. Unfortunately, you were a little preoccupied with trying not to make a sound to appreciate how well he knew your body. 

Lazy pumps of his finger had you reeling and he was hardly doing anything, which was definitely going to be embarrassing to think about later on when he brings this up. Like you knew he would. 

Your A+ streak of making no noise was interrupted — quite rudely — by him slipping another finger in, the uncomfortable stretch that only lasted a second eliciting a whimper you couldn't keep to yourself. His eyebrows shot up and you were thankful Rossi had not been looking at him when his gaze rested on you again, and that the music in the bar was loud enough to drown out the sound to anyone who wasn't listening for it. 

"Too much?" he asked, but the second you felt him slowly pulling that second finger back, you were shaking your head, nails digging into the wrist that you still had captured. 

"No. It's not. Promise."

He smiled, and wordlessly nodded his head as he allowed the finger to straighten inside of you. Then, he moved them in and out of you a few times, achingly slowly. 

"Spencer," you breathed out, frustrated. 

"Yes, angel?"

"Can you please... just... go faster," you bit out, heat flushing your cheeks. Again.

"That would make it obvious," he answered, and you let out a huff of air. You knew he was right. "But," he added, upon detecting your annoyance. "I can do this."

He was once again proving how well he knew your body, because his thumb so easily found your clit, and circled it in a way that shot sparks up through your body.

"Yes you can," you agreed, nodding your head eagerly, and he breathed out a chuckle.

It seemed to be a lot easier to do that fast enough and hide what he was doing to you at the same time, because his fingers bent upwards at the same time he flicked his thumb over your clit, and whatever self-control you thought you had was swindled.

Your teeth bit down on the disintegrating paper straw, just to stop the moan that caught in the base of your throat from leaving it, and at that, he did it again. 

Spencer Reid was good at a lot of things. Making you come from the lightest of touches seemed to be joining that long list. Your head buried itself into the forearm of the hand that was touching you, at the same time he used it to push your hips back into the seat when they had begun to lift upwards. 

"You're making it obvious," he said to you, and what you're sure would've been a wonderfully eloquent argument died in your throat when he flicked your clit again. 

"I can't," you managed to get out, shaking your head as your fingers dug perhaps a little too hard into his wrist. 

"No?" he mused, though didn't stop his movements. You shook your head. He smiled. "So you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Mm, you're conflicting yourself, angel," he said, and you groaned for more than just how he was making you feel because you knew that. 

You bit down on his arm through his shirt to silence another moan when he pushed his fingers in a little harder than before, and if it hurt, he didn't say anything. You decided it must not have, because he repeated that movement. 

You were fighting against the need to squirm as your stomach tightened. And he must've figured out what was happening, because he masked your incandescent need to moan by using his opposite hand to entangle within your hair, bringing your face into his chest, acting as a hug to anyone who could see you. 

"There you go," he murmured, awfully gently, in your ear, as your walls fluttered around his fingers. 

You weren't sure if you were imagining your hips jerking until he was slipping his fingers out of you and pushing them down into the seat again.

He wiped his fingers against his pants, and your lips parted, eyes staring at him, dumbfounded. 

"What?" 

You shook your head, regaining a little self control as you settled down. "Nothing. I'm wearing this skirt again, though."

"Good."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[tsukimefuku]

3rd of july ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚ nanami kento

piece written in collaboration with my beloved friend and one of my favorite people, @rahuratna, for nanami's (a.k.a. internet's collective husbando) birthday. 💜🧡 content warning: fluff/comedy/sugestiveness word count: 1k

Nanami wasn't one to make big celebrations on his birthday. Up until he met you, he'd usually go about his work day quietly, saving up a few extra hours to simply go bowling or visit his favorite restaurants for dinner.

After you both started dating, not much had changed. You'd simply tag along for whatever he had planned, and would usually surprise him with something by the time you both got home - a box of dark chocolate, a new set of lingerie, a nice warm scented bath, a new CD album he had been looking for.

This time, however, you decided to push your luck on teasing the poor man.

On his birthday, of all days.

"Kento, how do you feel about surprise parties?" you ask, hiding the smile pulled on your cheeks behind your tea cup.

On the couch by your side, you could feel Nanami holding the urge to flinch the moment you were finished speaking.

"They are not my favorite," he answers in earnest.

"Seriously?" you inquire with a faux disheartened look.

"Yes," Nanami replies, with a tinge of concern to his voice.

"That is... unfortunate, then," you ensue, putting your tea on the coffee table and pulling your robe tighter around your body.

His Adam's apple bobs as he silently gulps.

"Why?"

"Well, my plan was to surprise you when you got home, but I figured you wouldn't want to get instantly jumped. So I told them to wait in the room," you finally say, with a grave finality, pointing to the closed bedroom door.

Truth is, he has no clue what you are really up to.

"Darling…" Nanami sighs, ever so patiently, "I thought it would just be the both of us unwinding, like the past years."

"I… I'm sorry, I really wanted to surprise you with something different this time."

You do sound regretful, and he plants a soft kiss on your cheek in response. Even now, he doesn't quite find it in himself to be annoyed at you, even if the prospect of Gojo lurking around his bedroom is enough to send disgusted shivers down his spine.

"It's… fine. Let's get this over with at once, and then have the house to ourselves."

"Are you sure? I could always go in there and tell them to-"

"No," he counters firmly. "You've arranged something a little different this year, and I'm going to appreciate it."

"Come on, then."

As perceptive as he is, Nanami doesn't notice the mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Naturally, since you have successfully planted a seed in his mind, a terrifying image of his pristine suits being tried on by students and his custom made bowling ball being transformed into a disco light by the white-haired menace he calls a colleague.

When you reach the door and step aside for him, he visibly braces himself, fingers almost straightening a phantom tie at his throat.

"Sweetheart, I need to go and fetch a scarf. It's a little chilly in here."

Bless his heart. He's actually playing along.

You raise your voice.

"Oh, I left the blue one on the top shelf. Your closet."

"Right."

Nanami heads in with the air of a man charging from the trenches to face a volley of cannon fire. He stops dead in his tracks, eyes taking in the room.

It is empty of people, for starters.

The comforter on the bed has been pulled back, the white sheets scattered with rose petals. Candles have been placed strategically on the bedside table and vanity, emitting the subtle scent of the ocean. On a corner of the bed, a few ribbon-wrapped gifts await; a small stack of books and a box of his favourite dark chocolate with orange.

You saunter in behind him and he turns to you with a look that is both a solemn reprimand and a loving promise of a punishment you may appreciate later.

"Hmm. It's awfully crowded in here, my dear."

"Well, the rose petals were quite chatty, Kento. They've taken up all the space on our bed."

"They have indeed, you little-"

You laugh as you slip out of his reach, standing coyly in the doorway.

"Have a look at your gifts first."

He narrows his eyes, but approaches the bed, fingers unraveling the ribbon that holds the books together.

"What do we have here? 'The Master and Margarita.' Ah, wonderful. 'Bowling your way home: A salaryman's escape from bondage.'"

He pauses and raises an eyebrow and you gesture airily for him to keep going.

"Fine. What's this one? The-"

His voice cuts off abruptly.

"Kento? Are you all right?"

Very slowly, he turns to you.

"You got me the Kama Sutra?"

"I figured it would make a nice addition to your collection. I may even borrow it, from time to time."

You approach him now, casually opening the book to where you've placed a strategic leather marker within the section on sex positions.

"Since it's your birthday, maybe you'd like to start with the Virsha here?"

He considers the page seriously, before taking the book from you and flipping through it.

"I'm not sure, darling. You've put in enough effort setting all of this up."

Handing it back to you, he watches the flush that spreads upwards, across your neck as you are presented with the Indrani pose he has chosen instead.

"How about you let me do the work from here on out?"

"Well... "

"No, I insist."

His voice has that special intonation now, the husky rumble of desire, the inflection of hushed intimacy, the promise of that playful nature that only reveals itself when you're entangled in the sheets together.

You lay the book down, open to the very instructive illustration.

"In that case, let me present you with my last gift."

"There's another?"

Wordlessly, the robe you've been so studiously arranging around yourself slides to the floor. His kindling gaze takes in the sheer, violet lace, the tiny flowers embroidered strategically over the parts of you that he will discover at leisure.

***

Later, when the gossamer material lies discarded on the floor, when his exhausted limbs entwine with your own, when his golden hair runs like silk between your fingers, you speak into the hush of the bedroom.

"Happy birthday, my love."

His voice is muffled from where his face is pressed against your stomach.

"That was quite the surprise party."

"Maybe we should have one every year."

He snorts indignantly, but his lips curve in a smile against your skin all the same.