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royreadstarot · 18 days ago

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❝ PICK A PILE ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

(Relationship Dynamics Edition)

Are you wondering how is the dynamic of your relationship, how to make it work and what will you learn? Pick a crystal!

Pile 1:

Your Energy: Queen of Cups

As the Queen of Cups, you’re embodying deep emotional intelligence and sensitivity. This card represents someone who is nurturing, intuitive, and compassionate. You’re likely bringing warmth and understanding to the relationship, offering support and empathy even in challenging moments. Your intuition is strong, and you may have an almost psychic sense of what the other person is feeling. This energy draws people in, as they feel safe and seen in your presence. However, the Queen of Cups also reminds you to set emotional boundaries and be cautious of losing yourself in the needs of others. While your caring nature is a gift, it's crucial to maintain your own emotional clarity and self-care practices.

Their Energy: Sun (Reversed)

With the Sun reversed, they may be dealing with confusion or a loss of clarity in their life. Where the Sun typically represents warmth, confidence, and openness, in reverse, it suggests self-doubt, hidden fears, or an inability to fully express themselves. They could be struggling to see the positive aspects of the relationship or their own potential, which could make them seem distant or even pessimistic. This card might indicate that they’re dealing with a period of introspection or searching for personal purpose. Their energy might feel a bit cloudy, and they could be guarded or hesitant, especially when it comes to opening up emotionally. This reversal encourages patience, as they may need time to find their way back to a brighter mindset.

Dynamics of the Relationship: The Chariot (Reversed)

The Chariot in reverse suggests a sense of stagnation or conflicting goals. While both of you may have strong feelings, there could be a struggle to align on a common direction. This card in reverse often points to a lack of control or feeling pulled in different directions, either by external pressures or personal ambitions. The relationship may feel like it’s spinning its wheels without gaining real traction. Miscommunication, unresolved tensions, or resistance to compromise may be stalling your progress as a couple. It’s a reminder that both parties need to actively steer the relationship to keep it moving forward and avoid getting lost in misunderstandings or ego battles. You both may need to evaluate your personal needs and decide on a shared path or purpose.

How to Make it Balance: The Moon

The Moon here invites you both to face your fears, insecurities, and hidden emotions to achieve balance. It calls for a deeper level of honesty and vulnerability in the relationship. There may be elements that are not entirely clear to either of you, whether it's unspoken feelings or underlying fears. By acknowledging these shadow aspects, you can better understand each other and bring a sense of unity to the relationship. The Moon also suggests that intuition and patience are key. Rely on your inner wisdom rather than trying to force clarity or immediate solutions. This journey may require you to be comfortable with ambiguity and to communicate openly about your uncertainties, both with each other and within yourselves. It’s a phase of growth through introspection, shedding light on hidden truths, and allowing space for authenticity.

Learning Outcome from the Relationship: Strength

Strength as the learning outcome highlights resilience, courage, and inner balance. This relationship is teaching you to cultivate self-confidence, compassion, and emotional endurance. Strength embodies taming inner fears and harnessing the power of vulnerability. You are likely learning how to maintain your own sense of self while offering kindness and understanding to another. Through this relationship, you’ll gain a deeper appreciation for emotional resilience and personal integrity. It may challenge you to find balance within, drawing on inner strength rather than relying solely on external validation. Ultimately, this connection is likely to make you stronger, wiser, and more centered in your values, preparing you for future relationships and personal growth.

Pile 2:

Your Energy: Queen of Cups (Reversed)

As the Queen of Cups reversed, your energy in this relationship suggests that you may be feeling emotionally unbalanced, perhaps struggling to manage your own needs and desires. This reversal points to emotional sensitivity, which might manifest as feeling overly reactive, insecure, or unable to fully express your true feelings. You could be taking on more emotional weight than is healthy, potentially sacrificing your own well-being in an attempt to support or understand the other person. In this reversed state, the Queen of Cups encourages you to reconnect with your inner voice, regaining emotional control by setting healthy boundaries and ensuring you’re not pouring more than you’re receiving. This card is a reminder that self-care and emotional grounding are essential, especially when it comes to maintaining equilibrium within yourself.

Their Energy: 8 of Pentacles (Reversed)

The 8 of Pentacles reversed suggests that they may be lacking focus or commitment in the relationship. This card typically represents hard work, dedication, and attention to detail; however, in reverse, it can indicate disinterest, avoidance, or a reluctance to invest deeply. They might be preoccupied with other areas of their life, or they could be feeling uncertain about putting in the necessary effort to maintain or grow the relationship. There’s a sense here that they may not be showing up fully, possibly distracted or unwilling to work through relationship challenges. This energy calls for reflection on whether they’re ready or willing to truly invest, or if they are holding back from committing on a deeper level.

Dynamics of the Relationship: The High Priestess

The High Priestess card in this position suggests that there are unspoken feelings, hidden truths, or underlying tensions in your relationship. It indicates a mysterious, introspective dynamic, where intuition and inner knowing play significant roles. The High Priestess speaks to a deep, almost spiritual connection, yet one that may not always be easily understood or communicated. This card points to secrets, repressed emotions, or unaddressed issues that lie beneath the surface. Both of you might be holding back parts of yourselves, choosing instead to silently observe and reflect rather than openly confront. While there is a strong, almost magnetic connection, there may be a reluctance to dive into certain conversations or to reveal vulnerabilities. The High Priestess encourages both of you to trust your intuition and to allow these hidden layers to unfold naturally.

How to Make it Balance: Three of Swords

The Three of Swords as guidance for balance is a challenging but essential message. This card represents pain, heartbreak, and difficult truths, suggesting that for true balance, painful emotions must be acknowledged and processed. There may be unresolved hurts or disappointments that need to come to the surface for healing. Rather than avoiding conflict or glossing over issues, it’s vital to face whatever heartache or discomfort exists between you openly and honestly. This might mean confronting unmet expectations, previous wounds, or misunderstandings head-on. While the process may be emotionally intense, it’s also a chance for healing and closure. This card emphasizes that without addressing these underlying pains, true harmony cannot be achieved. It encourages emotional courage and honesty to bring clarity and release.

Learning Outcome from the Relationship: Ten of Cups (Reversed)

The Ten of Cups reversed as the learning outcome points to a significant realization about fulfillment, happiness, and idealism in relationships. In its upright position, the Ten of Cups represents lasting joy and contentment, yet in reverse, it suggests disillusionment or unmet expectations. This relationship may be teaching you about the dangers of placing too much weight on idealized visions of happiness or fulfillment through another person. There may be an important lesson here about creating your own sense of inner contentment rather than relying on external sources or relationships to provide it. You may come to understand that true happiness doesn’t stem solely from others or from romantic ideals; rather, it must be cultivated within. Through this relationship, you’re likely to learn the importance of realistic expectations, self-fulfillment, and emotional independence. This experience can ultimately guide you toward a more grounded, authentic perspective on what it truly means to be happy in a relationship.

Pile 3:

Relationship Tarot Reading

Your Energy: Four of Cups

With the Four of Cups, you may be feeling emotionally detached, withdrawn, or unfulfilled in the relationship. This card represents a sense of stagnation or apathy, as though something about the connection isn’t quite meeting your needs or expectations. You could be focused on what feels lacking or unsatisfactory rather than seeing what’s present. There may be feelings of boredom or a reluctance to engage deeply, possibly stemming from unresolved emotions or unmet desires. The Four of Cups encourages introspection to understand where this disconnect is coming from. Are there unaddressed issues, or is there something within yourself that needs attention and healing? By turning inward and reflecting on your true emotional needs, you can gain clarity on what will genuinely fulfill you.

Their Energy: Nine of Swords (Reversed)

The Nine of Swords reversed shows that they might be emerging from a period of anxiety, worry, or mental anguish. This card suggests they’ve likely been wrestling with internal struggles—perhaps fears or insecurities that have kept them in a cycle of self-doubt. In its reversed form, the Nine of Swords indicates a willingness to confront and release these anxieties, though they may still feel somewhat guarded or fragile. While they’re starting to let go of past worries or overthinking, they may not yet be fully open or confident, as traces of this struggle could still be affecting how they show up in the relationship. They are in a healing process, working on moving beyond these mental barriers to be more present and grounded. Compassion and understanding of their journey can be helpful here, as they navigate this inner turmoil.

Dynamics of the Relationship: Queen of Pentacles (Reversed)

The Queen of Pentacles reversed suggests a lack of stability or grounding in the relationship, likely due to unmet practical or emotional needs. This card in reverse can indicate neglect or a sense that nurturing energy has been lost, with one or both partners possibly feeling unsupported or taken for granted. There might be an imbalance in the giving and receiving within the relationship, leading to feelings of exhaustion or frustration. This reversed Queen points to a need for both partners to prioritize care, nurturing, and a sense of shared responsibility. The dynamics may feel materially or emotionally “off,” with each of you potentially more focused on individual needs than on fostering a mutually supportive foundation. There’s a reminder here to cultivate a relationship that feels both nurturing and secure, rather than one based on convenience or neglect of essential needs.

How to Make it Balance: Three of Pentacles

The Three of Pentacles encourages collaboration, teamwork, and building a shared foundation to bring balance to the relationship. This card is a call to work together constructively, appreciating each other’s strengths and contributions. It suggests that open communication and a willingness to actively engage in solving issues together are key. Rather than trying to manage everything independently, it’s important to view the relationship as a partnership where both partners invest effort and share responsibility. This card advocates for recognizing each other’s unique qualities and creating a space where both feel valued and understood. By establishing a cooperative dynamic, you can build trust and stability, bringing harmony to the relationship. Practical steps, such as setting shared goals or openly discussing how you can support each other’s needs, can strengthen the bond.

Learning Outcome from the Relationship: Five of Cups

The Five of Cups as the learning outcome indicates that this relationship may bring lessons around processing loss, disappointment, and the need for acceptance. This card represents grief, but also the potential for healing and growth. Through this connection, you may learn how to face unfulfilled expectations or regrets with resilience. The Five of Cups reminds you that even in moments of sorrow, there’s always something left standing—perhaps something valuable that you hadn’t yet appreciated. This relationship is teaching you about the importance of acceptance and the ability to move forward despite setbacks. By allowing yourself to feel and process these emotions fully, you can emerge stronger, with a clearer sense of what you want in future relationships. Ultimately, the Five of Cups offers the opportunity to let go of the past, to see beyond what was lost, and to find gratitude for the lessons learned.

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remiivu · 10 days ago

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Ghostly Companion- Chapter 1

Link on Ao3! Currently rated Teen but may go up to Mature/Explicit

Masterlist Next Chapter -->

A Mr. Crawling x Reader fic (that may expand into a series!)

This is the first time that I've written anything like this in the past 5 years, so give me some slack if it's bad or cringey lol (also the first fic on Tumblr!)

Set in the ending (and series of events) where you take him home! I've done a few playthroughs so some parts may not be fully accurate, but I'll do my best!

No warnings-- just some minor cursing here and there. 1.8k words!

Enjoy!

Note: Words in italics are in the ghost language. The blocks represent words reader doesn't understand.

You…

Honestly, you weren’t quite sure what happened these past 24 hours. Half of your now fully-conscious brain had settled on this being some sort of twisted hallucination you experienced after inhaling the noxious spores from some weird mushroom during your bravery challenge. But, the other, half-insane half-sane side of your mind simply cannot deny the manifestation of your nightmares sitting right across from you, a sharp smile stretching from ear to ear and a mop of strangely neat black hair swallowing its figure.

It? He? That, too, was something you didn’t know. Hell, the thing never stood up, and the noises that creaked from its throat were far from human.

But… It was nice. It helped you. It followed you, shielded you, and the pure, radiant happiness it exuded when you proposed, in broken ghostly-language, for it to join you hardly came across as malicious or non-sentient. It had feelings, and while some parts were… wrong, surely, it was owed some sort of humanity, you reasoned.

And so, it became a he, and then a Mr. Crawling-- the highlight of your creativity, truly. You doubted he understood the significance of the slightly different noises coming out of your mouth as you called to him, but still, it was the least you could do.

“... not… go?” He asked, head tilted as he sat patiently on the ground, lanky grayed limbs bent awkwardly into some mix between a w-shape and a regular sitting position. You think he said something else as well, but honestly, you were exhausted, and you hadn’t really had much time to truly learn his language.

“...” You sighed again, looking at him, then your surroundings. You had popped out right where you had started– or somewhere near it, at least, as you recognized the spooky decorations nailed and wrapped around trees. You were back in the forest you had entered before being sucked into… something. At least the light rain had stopped, leaving damp soil and the smell of petrichor to fill your senses instead of the… yeah.

Well, besides, you had nothing on you. Right– it was all in your bag that, for some reason, wasn’t brought alongside the rest of you.

“Need…” you paused, hesitating. How did you say bag? Scrounging through all the corners of your mind left you with a blank, and you searched for the next best thing.

Which would be bucket. Fuck.

Mr. Crawling tilted his head the other way, mouth flattening slightly in what you presume to be confusion. “You… ∎∎∎” he uttered something that didn’t spark a single click of recognition in your brain. “∎∎∎… ∎∎∎. ∎∎∎∎∎∎. Help?”

You gave one nod. “Yeah, help. Uhm… bucket… “ You made the attempt of drawing out what it looked like in the dirt while ignoring the small amount of embarrassment that rose in your chest at your horrific attempt to communicate.

You jabbed at the middle of the drawing of your rather simple bag. “Uh- blood.” You muttered, figuring it was the closest thing to whatever the actual word for red was.

Mr. Crawling frowned a bit, then chirped a “Me help you ∎∎∎ bucket! ∎∎∎ ∎∎∎∎?” With a much more pleasant smile.

You nodded, “Yeah, thanks. Ok, so… I guess we’ll split up?”

Mr. Crawling stared blankly with that dopey smile and you sighed, standing up. You felt a little bad for making a… disabled ghost? Yeah, a disabled ghost do some of the work. Shoeless and possibly pant-less

Damn. You’ve stooped down low these past few hours.

_____________________________

Honestly, you were surprised at just how efficient a disabled ghost was when left in the dark, blind, and in an environment he’s never been in before. Just as you were about to give up and start heading back into civilization, you heard a gleeful, familiar bone-chilling giggle followed by “Me ∎∎∎ bucket blood!”

Your head shoots up, “You did?!” As you rushed off to the bushes where he had wandered off.

You let out a sigh of relief as you spotted the familiar bag, grabbing it from Mr. Crawling’s hands. “Thank you,” you smiled, weary but grateful, as Mr. Crawling giggled once again.

“Happy! Happy!” He said, reaching out to pat your head again.

You found yourself letting out a small laugh as well at the unusually tender action, giving your bag a quick once-over to confirm everything was there. When you spotted your phone, you quickly tapped on the screen, letting out a quick breath of relief as it lights up only for it to immediately be followed by a small wince.

Over 50 missed calls and 100 messages… yikes. And with a glance at the time and date, you understood why. Turns out, your sense of time was rather accurate– it had been just over a day since your disappeared.

“Hurt? You hurt?” Mr. Crawling asked, leaning in close to do his ghost-equivalent of looking. Honestly, you can’t be bothered to question why, how, or even what he’s seeing when all you’ve noticed on his face was a deep red wound in place of his eyes.

“No,” You shake your head. “Uhm. It’s, uhm, humans. Humans worry… no– me worry humans.” You explained the best you could, standing up again. Mr. Crawling looks up, confused.

“You safe.” He says, crawling towards you rather slowly. “Humans ∎∎∎?”

You shake your head. “Go together with me.” You say with a bit of force. The desire to get home and in bed overshadows much of anything else that could run through your mind.

Mr. Crawling, however, doesn’t seem to mind your curtness, breaking out into another small fit of uncanny giggles as he follows after you, letting out a small mantra of “Together together together together!”

With half fondness and half exasperation, you trudge on with a smile, feeling like this experience was more akin to a person walking their dog rather than a human leading a ghost to their home. Which… you choose to think about another day. You really, really don’t want to contemplate any more images of your death.

You were so tired.

But, after nearly half an hour of much slower-than typical walking, your patience was wearing thin.

As it turns out, disabled ghosts walk– crawl much slower on slippery, uneven terrain than their familiar concrete floors. You’ve had to slow significantly so that Mr. Crawling wouldn’t get too tangled up in roots and rocks, and a part of you worried for the safety of his bare legs, but every passing glance resulted in a tiny glimpse of smooth, unharmed skin. You assume he was taking extra care to ensure he doesn’t get hurt.

But, still, every passing hour drains your phone’s limited battery and therefore your limited ability to navigate through whatever area of the city you wind up in upon exiting the mountains. You really couldn’t afford to keep slowing down or to risk losing your understanding of where to walk by circling around roots and trees. They had passed most of the decorations by now, leaving only trees and the very faint noise of any rare passing cars.

Eventually, you kneel back down, waving at him to get his attention. “Mr. Crawling.” You hum, watching as he perked up.

“∎∎∎!” He chirped, getting to your position in a few seconds.

“Me…” You hesitate. “... Me you… up.” You said, staring at him to see whether or not he understood. You were sure that, without… a lot of things necessary for life, he would be light enough for you to carry. Sure, you weren’t the fittest of the bunch, but you were healthy and exercised. In fact, you’re sure that your physical health was the only reason you lasted that long in that death trap.

His head tilted, then he grinned. “... Me you ∎∎∎?”

You sighed, contemplating. That was a vaguely familiar word, and you could almost hear something else in your memories having said it.

But before you could actually responded, Mr. Crawling lunged up at you, bringing you down to the ground in one swift motion. You let out a scream, your throat raw and strained by now, but settled in once you realized where you were.

“Mr. Crawling, what are you–?” You let out a half-scream of shock as he began to scoot across the floor with his legs, holding you firmly in his lap, cold yet sturdy arms caging you in.

He giggled, “Me ∎∎∎! Me ∎∎∎ you!”

Your jaw dropped, and then the word clicks– carry! Well, carry or lift or hold– something along those lines. You remembered that decapitated head speaking it. The head that you had left behind in the hands of that… goat thing.

“Me carry you!” Mr. Crawling giggled, and honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that this was twice as slow as their previous pace (an actual snail’s pace) you might’ve just stayed here and squeezed a nap in.

“Wait, no– no!” You wiggled, trying to loosen his arms. You couldn’t– not through sheer force, as his arms felt like stone bricks, but he loosened his hold on his own, leaning in far too close and spewing out a cycle of: “Hurt? Hurt? Damaged? You sad?”

You sighed, shaking your head. Well, at least now you know the word. “No, me carry you. Me carry you.” You said, trying to convey through hand motions that it would be faster.

Then… Mr. Crawling giggled. Laughed. Directly at your face. “You carry me? Me ∎∎∎, you ∎∎∎!”

In your heart, you knew you were being laughed at, and you felt heat rushing to your ears as you sputtered in indignation. “What– listen, I can carry you! You’re not even alive, so you probably don’t have water or blood or any other thing in you that makes you as heavy as–”

“Cute!” Mr. Crawling cooed with another giggle, playing with your ears, his fingers gentle despite how coarse they felt. The coolness of them actually felt… nice against your burning ears.

You balked, “You–!”

Your breath was interrupted as cement arms wrapped around you again and his butt-scooting continued.

“Hey, I– !”

“You ∎∎∎ rest!” He said happily, strong legs picking up the pace and pushing small mounds of dirt across the forest floor.

Well… that was actually amendable. Maybe you’d get to the city before sunrise at this pace.

“Rest rest!” He said, one arm reaching up to pat your head. “You ∎∎∎! You rest! You safe.”

You let out another sigh, though you hardly put any heart into it, leaning against him more as you felt the rhythmic stop and push of him quite literally dragging the both of us to safety.

A disabled ghost… helping a fully-capable human move.

You snort, letting your eyes fall shut.

What has your life become?

And that's all! Thank you so much for stopping by! If you're interested, I just wanted to add some notes for anybody paying a bit more attention to minor details in this fic.

Yes, the reader is exhausted and far too tired to ask why a ghost who "can't use his legs" is currently using them as a motor to propel them across the forest floor. Give them some slack! They nearly died about 3 times lmao. (And I have mentally planned out a timeframe where they realize this exact piece of info)

I am aiming for the reader to be completely G/N (for our rare male players) but I may slip up and call them she/her or accidentally follow the canon a bit too closely.

Honestly, while it is based in Japan, most of my understanding outside of some rare visits comes from anime. So, in my head, the local high school was hosting a bravery challenge up in the forest on the mountains and the reader was dragged along with their friends (reader is a working young adult, ~25 years old). In my world, the city they live in is maybe 40 minutes away from that specific area in the mountains. I'm contemplating making the reader American-Japanese (who resides in the US and visited Japan for a vacation to meet up with old friends, or something like that).

Yes, I know that "bucket" in the ghost language isn't correct (the correct word is "container" or something more vague like that) but I can't recall if the reader gets to go to the SOS room on this route where Mr. Crawler refers to the pencil case/make-up bag with that same word, so their only experience would be learning the word through buckets with Mr. Hood.

I may accidentally call Mr. Crawling "Mr. Crawler." I'm pretty sure I haven't done that in this fic, but this is simply a warning for the future lmao.

That's all! Thanks again!^^

Masterlist Next Chapter -->

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#mr crawling #x reader #homicipher #mr crawling x reader #mr crawling x you

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trillscienceofficer · 3 months ago

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from Sci-Fi Universe magazine, October 1996

COLOR TELEVISION: DEEP SPACE NINE's colorblind perspective deserves credit for not being simply black and white entertainment

by Eric Wallace

Here's a story that may or may not be apocryphal: In 1967, Nichelle Nichols decided to leave Star Trek at the conclusion of the fledging show's first season. Soon after making this decision, Nichols met Dr. Martin Luther King while attending an NAACP fund-raiser. Upon learning of ner decision, Dr. King proclaimed, "You cannot leave. You're opening a door that simply must not be allowed to close." Dr. King went on to explain how Nichols' portrayal of Uhura demonstrated to Americans each week that blacks could live, work and prosper in racially-mixed situations. Consequently, Nichols changed her mind, and the rest is history.

Fast forward to 1996, twenty-eight years after Dr. King's assassination. I'd love to say that Nichols' decision resulted in a multitude of positive black roles on television. But I would be lying. Television reflects the society from which it springs and the fact is that blacks continue to be under-represented in positive, let alone leading, roles on American television.

Thank God for Deep Space Nine. Here is a show that not only features blacks in prominent supporting roles—Jake, Cassidy [sic] Yates, Worf—but has a black male star—Captain Benjamin Sisko. This is cause enough for celebration among black television viewers searching for positive portrayals of their own. But DS9's importance to the black community goes further.

From Good Times' JJ to Martin Lawrence on Martin, it is no secret that "the clown" is the most common image for blacks on television. "The gangsta" and "dope addict" run a close second. Limiting the entire black populace to these three images is not only offensive, but just plain false. This is not to say that black people aren't funny or that we aren't burdened by troublesome individuals. We are. But we're also much more: we are novelists, millionaires and world leaders like Alice Walker, Quincy Jones and Nelson Mandela. So where are these images in American programming? Not in most networks' prime-time line-ups. Perusing the latest copy of TV Guide will confirm this.

Instead of offering up more destructive stereotypes, DS9 boasts strong black characters who behave like genuine, complex, unique individuals. Charismatic, sympathetic and intelligent, these black characters function in ways that mere stereotypes never could by both expanding the sometimes constricted perception of non-black viewers towards racial minorities (thus facilitating communication and a better understanding between racial groups) and helping to inspire the previously-stated traits among their own viewers, thereby providing minority youths, specifically those living in impoverished or hostile environments, with positive role models. In regards to this last element, Sisko, a dynamic leader and caring parent, personifies this ideal.

The relationship between Sisko and his son, Jake, is one of the most satisfying aspects of DS9. Loving, emotionally mature, and far from perfect, their relationship reflects the tragedies and joys which constitute family life.

The pinnacle of the Sisko/Jake relationship (so far) is, without a doubt, The Visitor, a tour de force episode brimming with passion and melancholy. Watching this episode left me proud of the intensity of the love shown between this black father and son, and in tears at the eloquence with which the show handled the poignant and universal themes of disillusionment, obsession, aging, loyalty, love and loss.

Aside from The Visitor, DS9 regularly boasts touching moments of natural interaction between black father and son, all of which make the show a privilege to watch. Just some of these moments include Sisko's overt show of affection for his son, Jake's wisdom in helping his father deal with romantic troubles and the manner in which father and son nave helped each other cope with the death of Sisko's wife.

Some readers may not understand why am I making such a big deal about DS9. After all, science fiction has featured blacks in prominent roles for years. Let me be blunt. There is a word for programs which strategically place one minority character in their ensemble. It's called tokenism. Yes, tokenism fulfills the "visibility" quotient for black characters. However, it fails at the larger task of presenting black characters who possess emotional depth and resonance. Black characters without such traits are cyphers, hollow representations which belittle the true intellectual and emotional capabilities of blacks.

Program creators and viewers who point to token blacks as examples of racial progress inadvertently court cultural hypocrisy. Because token black characters are the norm to which non-black viewers are exposed, they are harmful and destructive road-blocks on the march towards racial equality.

DS9, in contrast, allows its black characters to deal with issues usually reserved for white characters in white-dominated prestige dramas like ER. These issues include: the sacrifice of putting duty before love (For The Cause), the pressures of command (To The Death), the joys of parenthood (Explorers) and even conquering the Earth (Our Man Bashir). White characters that clearly dominate the television landscape have been allowed to cope with these issues for years. For black viewers, seeing themselves portrayed as real flesh-and-blood characters who cope with and ultimately solve life's great challenges is a rarely enjoyed breath of fresh air.

In addition to presenting well-rounded black characters, DS9 presents blacks interacting and succeeding in a multi-racial world. Most black shows, especially black sitcoms, feature an all-black line-up. The characters find success and stature, but only among other blacks. The insidious implication which arises, intentionally or not, is that blacks can succeed among their peers, but not in the real world where it counts, DS9 shatters this antiquated notion by presenting black characters who successfully interact with people of all races, colors and creeds.

Considering its positive impact, it is all the more tragic that DS9, one of the best shows on television, is currently one of the least watched. For those in the 'cultural majority' who have yet to latch on to the DS9 phenomena, I invite you to sample what this well-made, thought-provoking science fiction program has to offer. To black viewers who crave quality television, I urge you to give this remarkable program a try. You might be surprised at what you find: a little piece of yourself.

ERIC WALLACE is a former Army brat and a freelance screenwriter living in Los Angeles. Since his escape from the rural South, he has become a much friendlier person.

#ds9 #trek magazines #benjamin sisko #jake sisko

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ancha-aus · 14 days ago

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SansNautica Sneak Peak - The Selkie and the Shiver

here is a tiny drabble from the gangs point of view :3 @0p1er0 because you wanted a tag when i did these lmao

*--------------*

Horror watches as pup looks around anxiously.

Killer looks amused as he circles the cuddlefish “It is okay Crossy! We will find your little friend.”

Cross just looks more stressed “This isn’t funny Killer! He is not a strong swimmer and now everything is even more aggressive with it being their mating season. The reapers normal mating area was ruined by that big ship. They will move more into the shallows to do their own nesting and I don’t want Little Flippers to get caught by surprise by that!” Cross wriggles his hands together as his tentacles lash around anxiously.

Horror goes to his mates side and nuzzles him “We will find him. If he managed to make it this far he will be okay for the day it took for you to get us and for us to start searching.”

Cross looks unsure as he rubs his hands. Horror understands of course. If Cross is right about what he think happened to the other it would bring back a lot of bad and traumatic memories for Cross. Horror is so proud of him for being able to push through all that hurt and be willing to help the other.

Dust yawns as he lounges on a ledge “We can split up. Search the area near the surface. I doubt he will want to go deep if he is a bad swimmer and with fish being more aggressive.”

With the plan laid out they get to work. Horror makes sure to check each cave system. He himself knows better than to go into them but if the other really doesn’t know this planet he may think it is safe and get cornered.

Horror makes sure to keep his eye out. He needs to be alert and-

There!

Horror sees a strange kinda land dweller form shoot out from a cave with a crashfish hot on his trail. Horror rushes over and hits the crashfish with his tail before it can explodes on little flippers.

At least Horror assumes this is him.

Horror nears him but he can see that maybe Little Flipper leans back a bit. Horror watches as the other starts to sink. It is clear the other is cautious about him but Horror thinks this is him.

“Are you okay?” Horror tries as he keeps his distance.

That is when Horror sees pup rush over “You found him! Oh Horror thank you!” he focusses on the other and looks so happy at him. Cross reaches for the other’s head but pulls his ahdns back quickly as he looks slightly embarrassed “Sorry. I just… sorry.”

Little Flipper looks slightly in his direction. Maybe to see if it is really okay? To see if he is really safe? But then he removes the little head part of his skin. Maybe pup had a point with him being a weird selkie of some kind.

Cross looks so happy as he speaks “Oh you are okay! I was so worried. Don’t just swim off okay? I may not look the part but I can protect you just fine.” Little Flipper seems happy with Cross’s happiness as the other seems to laugh soundlessly.

Right… Cross mentioned that Little Flipper may have been forced to adapt to land… leaving him unable to fully communicate in the water.

Horror notices of course when hie other two mates join him. The three of them watch Cross happily interact with the other.

Dust hums and mutters “I can see why Cross calls him Little Flipper. Guy is tiny.”

Killer snorts “For real. He is even tinier than you Dusty.” And he grins as Dust sends him a glare.

Horror just watches their mate interact with his new chosen as Cross starts to nudge and guide Little Flipper towards them. Little Flipper looks at them but looks shocked as his eyes shoot between all three of them. He has very large sockets and his face is very expressive. Maybe this won’t be too hard to manage without communication after all.

There is caution but mostly there is curiosity on his face. He studies their tails and it is clear he is more intrigued than actually worried. Horror also gets why Cross is worried about Little Flippers now. The little guy may not have nay survival instincts after whatever happened to him.

Cross looks so excited “Guys. I assume you figured it out but this is Little Flippers!” he looks so proud of himself.

Dust snorts “We figured. And he is little alright.”

Killer laughs “A little cutie! I can’t believe you were going to keep him hidden.”

Cross sputters “I wasn’t! I was just going to make sure he was a bit more comfortable first.”

Horror hums and shoots Killer a look “Be nice. Don’t be too much.”

Killer pouts but before he can answer Little Flippers raises a hand and gives it a little wave. Very friendly and curious than. Smart enough to figure out he is being introduced and is trying his best to go along with it.

Cross then looks at Little Flippers and waves at the cave. Trying to understand why Little Flipper would risk something like that.

Little Flippers frowns as he seems to think and look around. Probably trying to look for a way to get his own message across. He ends up pointing to some fish stalkers off in the distance doing their complex half fighting half dancing mating ritual before he points at the one of the normal egg nests for some rabbit rays and lastly he points at the cave. Looking very satisfied with himself.

Horror frowns as Killer speaks up with a snort “He can’t possibly be confusing fish mating season with his own? That is so stupid.”

Dust disagrees with a shake of his skull “I don’t think it is stupid. If Cross is right about him still having to learn everything concerning himself. It isn’t weird to look at other sea creatures and just copy what they are doing. To get a general feel for it.”

Cross looks nervous “So he is nesting? Without realising what it means of includes?”

Dust shrugs “Not exactly nesting. He is just imitating the other fish I think. But I am not sure.”

Killer frowns “Then we should stop him right?”

Horror frowns and speaks slowly “No… I don’t think it is a good idea to stop it… He is learning about himself and his instincts. If his instincts are telling him to hide and nest because o the other fish it is best to just let him experience it… And to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere near others who could hurt him while his instincts are fragile and he is learning.”

Cross looks excited “Then we help him! we can find him a safe spot and get him comfortable. Help teach him what to do when he feels this way!”

Killer snorts and looks amused “You just want to sneak in some courting and wooing while you can.” Cross looks embarrassed but doesn’t go against it.

With their plan made they look around thinking and muttering about possible places. It is Dust who reminds them that there are always caves in the kelp forest that aren’t used as the stalkers themselves prefer nests out of the open and nothing goes there as the stalkers are territorial.

Horror watches Killer swim near Little Flippers and touch the thing attached to his back. Little Flippers turns quickly and looks unhappily at Killer.

Cross notices and rushes over “Killer don’t do that! He needs that to swim and he may be hurt!” Killer shurgs with a grin before nuzzling Cross’s chin and circles him as he keeps giving Cross nuzzles. Then Killer makes his circle include Little Flippers and pushes the tiny being near Cross. Cross yelps and quickly snatches him and stabilises him before glaring at Killer “Killer!! What did I just say?!” Cross then is quick to check Little Flippers.

When they are side by side it is so obvious that Little Flipeprs is well... little. His skull is much smaller than Cross’s and the length of his arms are shorter. Horror isn’t sure how big the other’s ribcage is and he doubts he will feel safe enough soon to show his complete landdweller form like other selkies can. But Horror can only guess that if he wear a mer like them he would be at most half of Horror’s size…

Little Flipper looks at Cross and gives him a signal with his hands and a smile. Maybe to show he is fine? He doesn’t seem hurt or bothered. Cross shoots Killer one more warning look but Killer looks smug as he relaxes back.

One of the stalkers growls in the distance and they can see Little Flipper tense up and look around anxious.

Little Flipper pushes off of Cross and uses his shoulders to get higher in the water as the little tool on his back starts working. Dust is luckily fast as he just gets near the other and takes hold of him and tugs him into the kelp forest.

Cross looks panicked but relaxes as soon as he sees that it is Dust who has their little future mate.

They all follow Dust’s lead as Dust knows these areas best from his own exploration. Little Flippers can’t really keep up but that is why they just keep him with them. Easy enough and he seems excited about it as he watches how their tails move and how easily they swim. Horror wonders if the other knows what he misses or what those people have done to him by forcing him to adapt…

Dust finds them a few options and they check them out critically before settling on a bit of a bigger one. Mostly because they need to all fit to be able to work.

Cross finishes his inspection and nods happily. Seems like they found a place that Cross finds up to standards for his little friend. Cross is the one who gets Little Flippers inside. He seems to look around and like it well enough even if he looks a bit unsure.

Well Little Flipper had been nervous in the kelp forest with all the stalkers nearby but they will just have to make sure he knows he is safe. He lets himself sink to the sea floor and stands on his legs.

Cross swims over and smiles “And? Do you think this will work for your nest?” and he waits.

Little Flippers looks around the cave again before giving a tiny sweet smile and nods. Clearly understanding what they had been doing for him or at least getting it enough to accept.

Cross looks so excited and Horror can see he is close to nuzzling Little Flippers before stopping himself. Then he goes to them and nods “Okay! He accepted this place. Lets get to work.”

Killer grins and stretches “I will get some pretty things and some plants to light this place up when it is night. We don’t know his night vision situation.” And he rushes out.

Dust yawns “Will get stuff for nest.” And he gets ready to leave.

Cross shouts after him “Not just metal scrap! Also kelp!” he gets a confirmation back.

Horror smiles at Cross and nuzzles him “I will get food. You get started with the nest and keep Little Flippers company?” Cross looks so relieved and nods.

Horror gives him another nuzzle and swims off. There had been something worrying him. Little Flipper seemed vulnerable and fragile. Just looking at him and Horror got the feeling he could he hurt easily. Which makes him worry about the illness that the visitors from long ago left for them to deal with.

Horror searches the area and sees a peeper with the enzyme trail. He quickly catches it.

They have no idea if he is already sick or ate something that has the sickness. Horror hopes that by giving him these they can at least neutralise it or make it not harm him even if he carries it like all of them. Make sure he is okay.

Horror considers how many to get and decides to just keep catching them when he sees them. In the end he has six and he considers if it is enough.

He doubts it is enough for a long time but it should be enough to give him a bit of a boost and nudge his body and health in the right direction.

Horror decides that for now it is enough. They can always catch more of these for him tomorrow. He turns back around and goes back towards the small hidden cave.

Horror makes sure to only get nearer when he knows he isn’t being followed. No need to stress the little nesting selkie out by bringing aggressive predators near.

He gets into the cave and can’t help but smile. Seems like the others already finished the nest and made sure Little Flippers is comfortable in it.

Little Flippers shoots him a curious look while the others all happily greet him. Dust going as far as to give him a greeting nuzzle.

Killer snorts as he tilts his skull “You were in the mood for peepers today?”

Horror shakes his skull as he answers “It are the once with the golden trail. We don’t know how the illness left by the precursors will affect him. Best to give his body and health a tiny boost just in case.”.

Cross nods as Killer looks at him in awe “I hadn’t even thought about that! Good thinking Horror!”

Horror nods before slowly going close to the nest. Trying to make sure he doesn’t trigger any distressed instinct in the other. But Little Flippers just seems curious and watches him go closer.

Once he is right by the nest he offers him one of the good peepers. Little Flippers looks at it before looking back at him. Waiting.

Killer groans “Why isn’t he taking it?”

Horror watches as Little Flippers starts to watch Killer and he makes sure his voice so soft “Because he isn’t used to this Killer. He is still trying to see what he probably can and can’t eat. Don’t be mean to someone who is trying to learn.” His speaking seemed to have caught Little Flipper’s attention as he watches him again.

Eventually Little Flipper ends up taking the peeper. That is good. That is progress.

Horror slowly shows bringing his hands closer to his teeth and biting down on nothing for him. Showing him to eat it.

Little Flipper pulls a face of disgust and tried to give the peeper back to Horror. Horror just pushes it back to Little Flipper. It is his. But this does reinforce that Little Flipper hasn’t been eating the right food. Horror saw those tiny fangs. Not perfect but very much able to bite through raw meat.

Little Flippers looks at the fish with clear distaste before looking at Cross and offering it to him.

Cross looks thorn as he looks at Horror. Horror shakes his skull. Cross sighs before looking back at Little Flippers and pointing between the food and him. Making it clear it is for him.

He even glances at both Dust and Killer but hey make it obvious with their own staring that they expect him to eat it himself.

Little Flipper keeps looking unhappily at the fish. Turning it this and that way to look at it from different angles. A small annoyed little grumble leaves the tiny guy and Horror can’t help but find it adorable.

Eventually he raises it to his teeth and bites into it. The face of discomfort and disgust turns surprised as the exact thing happens that Horror thought would happen. Him being able to easily take a bite and get a piece of meat of the fish. Still he pulls away from the fish and chews the mouthful. The unhappy look turns more surprised as he chews and shallows.

He blinks a few times before staring at the peeper full of shock.

Yeah… Horror gets it. Eating what your body needs when you haven’t been able for a while is unbelievable good.

Little Flippers looks angerly at the fish and mutters some words as a few bubbles of air leaves him. Clearly displeased by the fact the food turned out to be good and feeling betrayed by this change of events.

Killer and Dust start to laugh and chuckle and Horror shoots him a disapproving look “This isn’t funny. He most likely has had anything yet that his body actually needs. Don’t laugh at him.” which just causes them to laugh more even as Cross looks disapproving at them as well.

Then a peeper hits Killer right in the face. Horror turns and sees Little Flippers looking annoyed at Dust and Killer. His arm outstretch to show he threw the fish at them.

Dust looks dumbfounded before his laughing fit just gets worse. Cross sighs but grabs the peeper and brings it back to Little Flippers. After inspecting it Little Flippers keeps eating his first fish.

Horror smiles as he watches the other “I understand why you did it but please don’t throw your food. You need to energy it gives you.” Little Flippers just shrugs as he keeps slowly nibbling. Little Flippers eats just the meat before he moves to throw the only half eaten peeper off to the side but Horror stops him. Pointing at the fish and back at Little Flippers. The other freezes and Horror points at the uneaten organs. The parts of the fish which holds the most of the deeply needed enzyme that Little Flippers need.

Little Flippers looks horrified and shakes his skull again but Horror just nods. Seems like he was with landdwellers. They always throw away parts of the fish or meal that are just fine to eat. Poor guy hadn’t even been allowed to finish the meals he needed. Little Flippers shakes his skull again.

Horror is thinking about what to do when Killer laughs “Tiny picky eater isn’t he?” and he swims over. Little Flippers glares at Killer and aims the half-eaten peeper. Ready to make good on the threat.

Killer snorts and points to the peeper “It is okay little sweety. Just give me it okay?” and he holds out a hand. Little Flippers watches him before first picking up a rock before giving up his weapon. Horror chuckles as he watches Killer look beyond delighted.

“Oh hell yeah little sweetie is a little spitfire!” He holds up the peeper as Little Flippers starts to aim the rock in warning. Killer waits it out and Little Flipper slowly lowers the rock again. The Killer turns to the peeper and digs lightly around and manages to get the stomach out easily enough. Killer grins and holds it out to Little Flipper. Who looks beyond disgusted and shakes his skull stubbornly.

Killer grins as he inches closer “Oh it is okay sweetie.” He coos as he gets nearer “It will be so good for you.” Little Flippers clearly disagrees as he stares with pure disgust.

Killer keeps cooing and trying to encourage the other to take it. Little Flippers shoots Cross a look and Cross looks so guilty as he points between the stomach, Little Flipper and his teeth. “I know you don’t like the idea buddy… but you really need it.” Little Flipper remains stubborn and shakes his skull again.

Killer frowns as he looks at Cross “I don’t think he will take kindly to me force feeding him. Even if it would be better for him to eat this.”

Cross frowns before smiling “Oh I know!” he rushes over and smiles at Little Flippers as he starts pointing at a few things in quick succession. Little Flipper looks considering as he seems to think it over.

Horror shoots Cross a look “What did you say?”

Cross smiles “He has this tool thing that gives him information. I tried to imply that you guys would be fine with him using it in trade for him eating the meal!” he looks relaxed “It is fine. He already used it on me and it doesn’t hurt or harm us in anyway.”

Little Flipper ends up nodding but looks mad about it. Cross is so excited and clearly can’t stop himself as he nuzzles Little Flippers. His whole being purring as he mutters full of praise “Thank you. You are so good. I am so happy you are willing to eat it.” Little Flipper just looks very confused about the affection given to him.

And isn’t that just a sad thought? That he hadn’t just been starved of food but also basic affection? Dust and Killer both seem to agree with him.

Little Flipper pulls out his little tool as Cross smiles “Okay! lets do this! Just hold out an arm.”

Killer blinks but nods “sure.” He swims over and holds out an arm. Blue light comes from the tool and reflects slightly off the bone. Then Little Flipper looks excited at the screen before tilting his little skull.

Killer grins as he holds out the other hand “Your turn little sweety.”

Little Flippers looks so unhappy about this but takes the little ball of nutrients. Then he just pops it in his mouth with a tense face.

Surprise and annoyance on his face. Much like it went with the fish itself.

Killer looks at him sadly but is met with an angry face on Little Flippers face. Killer gets the message however and backs up even if he keeps frowning. Probably finally starting to realise just how little food Little Flipper must have been getting for him to be this surprised by the most basic food source for them.

Horror keeps his voice soft “Hey… it is okay. ready for your next fish?” and he holds out the next peeper. Little Flippers stares at it but takes it and starts eating without complain.

By the time it gets to the insides Little Flippers pauses before moving towards his little hand fins. He nudges the skin and- huh. He undoes the hands?! Showing normal skeleton hands underneath. He can remove different sections of his skin? Horror is intrigued as Little FLippers lays the skin hands on the side of his newly made nest. Then he starts messing with the peeper until the stomach pops out and he eats it whole this time.

After a bit of signing and pointing they manage to make it obvious the eye and pretty much all of the fish is also fine to eat. They do find out that Little Flipper’s teeth aren’t strong enough to crush the bones to eat as well. Horror hopes that with time he recovers enough to gain that strength.

They keep giving him fish as they all relax as Killer gets them their own meal to eat. Little Flippers doesn’t even seem to realise that he is softly purring as his body gets the badly needed nutrients and energy.

By the time that they managed to get Little Flippers to eat the last fish it is already dark and Little Flippers looks kinda dazed and tired. He probably had been swimming looking for a nesting area for a long time before they found him. Maybe he had even been swimming and searching for a safe spot since Cross saw him last.

A small yawn escapes him and Little Flipper seems annoyed before just giving it up as he starts to mess with the tool stuck on his back and-

A click and it is loose.

No! Little Flippers needs that to swim!

He just looks at them confused with the tool in his hands before pointing at the small clips in his skin. Looking completely integrated and part of it and Horror feels sick in his stomach.

Did those… creatures seriously alter his selkie skin? Not just branding it with their sign was enough but also edited it? Horror is happy none on that ship survived. How dare they hurt Little Flipper so much?

Little Flippers puts it to the side of the nest before rolling up and getting comfortable. Horror can see both Dust and Cross look anxious as the little selkie gets comfortable. He very quickly closes his sockets and is asleep within moments.

Safe and sound. Well-fed and comfortable.

Cross looks anxiously at them “What do you guys think? About… what I thought? Do you think? It is like I thought?”

Dust frowns as he thinks “I am not sure… but it fits. His behaviour how he seems surprised to eat things he likes and are tasty. The way he didn’t seem to understand that we were even building the nest. It does seem like something or someone was keeping him from being allowed to use his instincts.”

Killer crosses his arms “He didn’t even want to eat even when he was clearly hungry… like what must happened to cause that? He didn’t even want to try eating the fish… It is like he enver ate fish before.”

Horror hums “Maybe he just never ate it raw before? I know that Farm used to have to cook and make his food. Process it before he could eat it… maybe whoever had him or where he was treated food like that?” it doesn’t make Horror happy. Because it means he still didn’t get what he needed.

Cross frowns as he rubs his hands “So I was right?” he looks close to an anxiety attack.

Dust is quick as he nuzzles him “We don’t know. And we won’t know until we can ask him. Until then we can help him.” then he looks at Cross teasing “You really just want to keep him don’t you?”

Cross looks beyond embarrassed but nods “I like him a lot…”

Killer snorts “I am down. Little spitfire is cute.” As he lounges not in a hurry.

Horror hums “We can ask Nightmare if he can join the group. Maybe ask him to all for Dream.” As Dream had powers to enable landdwellers to communicate underwater he may be able to help Little Flippers as well.

Cross looks hopeful “Maybe they can do what they did for Farm!”

Killer shrugs “Who knows. We can ask.”

Cross looks a lot more relaxed as he lays close to Horror to snuggle for a moment. They will just remain near the other for now until things are a bit calmer. Then they will go back to Nightmare and discuss what they know and think.

Horror is sure they can get this to work.

*--------*

#Sansnautica #The gang is convinced Sans is an alien selkie who was captured and held captive #nah #sans is just a dude. just a skeleton.#but he has alot of magic and tha tmagic is slowly adapting which keeps surprising/blindsiding sans #as he isn't aware how fast his magic is helping him adapt

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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago

Text

I Love You

Summary: Spencer tries to redeem himself after ruining everything he had with you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: light smut (18+), pain of breakup, voicing that pain

Word count: 8.2k

a/n: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee part two to i love you (i would write part 3) —hi was gonna wait to post butttt im having a bad monday so i wanted to see these fellas have their happy ending

masterlist part one

July, 2008

“Hey,” you said softly, your eyes searching his, filled with emotions.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

A silence hung between you, thick with unspoken words, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if both of you were trying to navigate the delicate terrain of this moment, unsure of where to begin.

“Come in,” you finally said, stepping aside to let him enter. Spencer nodded, stepping into your apartment with familiarity and trepidation. As you closed the door behind him, you couldn’t help but notice how he seemed almost hesitant, as if afraid to disrupt the space you had built for yourself in his absence.

You both moved to the living room, where he sat on the edge of the couch, his hands fidgeting slightly in his lap. You took a seat across from him, giving him the space he seemed to need.

“I’ve been thinking about what to say to you for months,” Spencer began, his voice tentative, eyes focused on his hands. “But now that I’m here, I realize that no amount of words can really make up for what I did.”

You remained quiet, letting him speak, knowing that this was something he needed to get out.

“I was jealous. Insecure. I let my fears control me, and I ended up pushing away the one person who meant everything to me,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. “I know I hurt you, and I can’t take that back. But I need you to know how sorry I am. I’m so sorry for doubting you, for accusing you, for letting my insecurities get in the way of what we had.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret that weighed heavily on him. It tugged at your heart, but you weren’t ready to let go of the pain just yet.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice steady but soft, “I appreciate you wanting to fix things, to be willing to admit your feelings. But what happened… it wasn’t between us. It was just you. I wasn’t a part of any of the decision-making, or the understanding. The only part of our relationship that I was present for towards the end, was the breakup. You left me out of everything and made up your own stories and facts about me, your loving, devoted girlfriend. I put all of my trust into you, and I only wish you had done the same for me.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy with the truth that had been buried for too long. Spencer’s face paled as he absorbed what you were saying, the weight of his actions settling on him like a burden he could never fully shake off.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I let my fears and insecurities take control, and I didn’t give you the trust and respect you deserved. I created a narrative in my head, one that wasn’t based on reality, and I let it destroy what we had.”

You nodded, your heart aching but resolute. “Spencer, relationships are built on trust, communication, and partnership. You can’t love someone and keep them at arm’s length, making decisions about them without including them. That’s not how it works.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. “You’re right. I failed you in every way that mattered. I don’t know how to fix that, but I want to try. I want to earn back your trust, if that’s even possible.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of the past year pressing down on you. “It’s not something that can be fixed overnight, Spencer. And honestly, I don’t know if I’m ready to even try right now. I need time to think, to figure out what I want.”

Spencer nodded, his expression solemn. “I understand. I’m willing to wait, to give you all the time you need. I just needed you to know how sorry I am, and how much I regret everything I did.”

The room fell silent again, but this time it was a silence of understanding—a mutual acknowledgment of the pain and the need for space. It wasn’t a resolution, but it was a step toward something, even if that something was simply closure.

“Thank you for coming here, Spencer,” you said finally, your voice softer now. “I needed to hear this, and I think you needed to say it.”

“I did,” he agreed, standing up slowly. “I’ll go now. But if you ever want to talk, or… anything, I’m here.”

“No… you don’t have to leave,” you said quickly, surprising even yourself with the words.

Spencer paused, looking at you with confusion and hope. “What? Why not?”

“You took a three-hour train to be here,” you continued, your voice softer now. “We can… still be friends. Friends spend time together. Right?”

Spencer’s eyes searched yours, as if trying to gauge whether you truly meant it. “Right,” he finally said, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You nodded, feeling a small sense of relief. “So, stay. We can talk, or just… be here. No pressure.”

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly sat back down, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “I’d like that,” he admitted, the words carrying a sincerity that made your heart ache.

And so, you both sat there, the remnants of what you once had still lingering in the air, but now with a new understanding—a step toward healing, toward something different. Maybe it was the beginning of a friendship, or maybe it was just a way to start mending what had been broken. Either way, it felt like the right thing to do, and for now, that was enough.

—

As you both settled into the couch, the initial tension began to dissipate, replaced by a more comfortable atmosphere. Spencer shifted slightly, trying to find the right words to break the ice, but you beat him to it.

“So,” you began with a teasing smile, “have you read any good books lately? Or are you still just hoarding them?”

Spencer chuckled, the familiar sound bringing a sense of warmth to the room. “Hoarding? I prefer to think of it as curating a personal library.”

“Sure, sure,” you laughed. “And how many of those ‘curated’ books have you actually read?”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “More than you might think! But okay, I’ll admit, the collection has outgrown my reading pace a bit.”

“A bit?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “I remember you saying that about three bookshelves ago.”

Spencer smiled, feeling more at ease. “Well, you know how it is. So many books, so little time. But I did finish that mystery novel you recommended.”

“Oh, you mean the one where the butler actually didn’t do it?” you grinned, leaning back against the couch.

“Yes! I was convinced it was him the entire time,” Spencer admitted, shaking his head. “They really got me with that twist.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I knew you’d like it! I told you it wasn’t as predictable as it seemed.”

“Okay, okay, you were right,” he conceded, a playful tone in his voice. “What about you? Been to any good concerts lately, or are you too busy performing in them?”

“Touché,” you said, giving him a mock glare. “But actually, I did go to one recently! It was kind of nice to be in the audience for a change, you know?”

Spencer nodded, a genuine smile on his face. “I can imagine. It’s probably a different experience when you’re not the one on stage.”

“It really is,” you agreed. “I got to just enjoy the music without worrying about anything. It was a good reminder of why I love it so much.”

The conversation flowed easily after that, the two of you slipping back into a comfortable rhythm, sharing stories and light-hearted banter. It felt natural, almost like old times, but with a new understanding and a lighter, more cautious energy. It wasn’t the same as before, but it was something, and it felt good to just be in each other’s company again.

—

Spencer left later that evening, feeling lighter but not completely at ease. The conversation had been a step in the right direction, but he knew there was still a lot of work to do to truly prove to you how sorry he was. The road to rebuilding your trust was going to be long, and he was prepared to do whatever it took.

As the door closed behind him, you found yourself sitting in the quiet of your apartment, reflecting on the unexpected turn of events. Despite everything, Spencer had always been a significant part of your life, and it seemed that, in some ways, he still was. The emotions of the day swirled in your mind, a mix of old memories and new beginnings.

Instinctively, you reached for a notebook and pen, letting your thoughts flow onto the pages. Spencer had been your muse for years, inspiring some of your most heartfelt songs. That hadn’t changed, even after all the pain. Now, as you started scribbling down ideas, you felt that familiar spark—his presence still lingered, giving rise to new melodies and lyrics. The words came naturally, you weren’t sure where this new song would lead or what it would become, but for now, it was enough to let the music carry your emotions, just as it always had.

—

Spencer knew that rebuilding your trust would take time and consistent effort, so he began with the little things, the everyday gestures that showed he was thinking of you.

He started texting you whenever something small reminded him of you—a funny sign he saw on his way to work, a quirky fact he knew you’d appreciate, or just a picture of his coffee when it was served in one of those oversized mugs you always loved. The messages were brief but thoughtful, his way of staying connected without pushing too hard.

When you didn’t answer his calls, he left sweet, friendly voicemails. “Hey, it’s me,” he’d say, his voice warm with a hint of nervousness. “I just wanted to hear your voice, but no worries if you’re busy. I hope you’re having a good day. Call me back if you can. If not, I’ll catch you later.” His tone was always light, never demanding, just letting you know he was thinking of you.

Every time you finished a show, you’d return to your hotel room to find a beautiful bouquet of flowers waiting for you. The notes attached were always simple, but they made your heart ache a little less. I know you were amazing tonight. I can hear the crowd from across the ocean. –Spencer was your favorite one, always signed with just his first name, a touch of the familiar that made you smile despite yourself.

Spencer also made it his mission to read every book you had ever recommended. Late at night, after finishing a chapter, he would call you to share his thoughts. “Hey, I just finished that mystery novel you suggested,” he’d say, excitement evident in his voice. “You were right, the twist was incredible! I didn’t see it coming at all. I’d love to hear what you thought when you read it.” Sometimes you answered, and sometimes you didn’t, but he always left a message, continuing the conversation as if you were right there with him.

These small, consistent gestures slowly chipped away at the walls between you. They weren’t grand declarations, but they were genuine, thoughtful, and persistent—a reflection of Spencer’s commitment to making things right, one step at a time.

—

September, 2008

You had a show tonight in Amsterdam, and the city seemed to glow with a charm that made you fall in love with it a little more every day. The weather was perfect, with a gentle breeze and sunshine that reflected off the canals, making everything feel just a bit more magical. You couldn’t have asked for a better setting to prepare for your performance. You were soaking it all in, convinced that this country might just be one of your favorite stops on the tour.

But that sense of contentment was abruptly interrupted when you left your hotel that morning for a walk with Emerson, your head of security. The usual routine—just a quiet stroll to clear your mind before the day’s whirlwind began. But today, there was something different.

As you stepped out of the hotel, your eyes adjusted to the bright morning light, and then they landed on a figure standing next to Emerson. It took a second for your brain to catch up with what your eyes were seeing, but when it did, your heart skipped a beat.

Spencer.

He was standing there, looking slightly out of place but unmistakably beautiful. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his posture a mix of nervousness and resolve. When he saw you, his eyes softened, and the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

“Spencer?” you said, surprise and confusion mingling in your voice as you stepped closer.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice tentative but hopeful. “I was in the neighborhood. I thought… maybe I could catch your show tonight.”

You glanced at Emerson, who gave a small nod, signaling that Spencer had already been vetted and that his presence wasn’t an issue from a security standpoint. That left you to decide how you felt about him being here—unannounced, thousands of miles from home.

“You were in the neighborhood, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow with skepticism and amusement.

“Mhm,” Spencer nodded, his expression serious for a moment before a small, teasing smile tugged at his lips. “Just passing through.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his attempt to play along. “You didn’t come here to see anything? Anyone in particular?”

He pretended to think for a moment, then shook his head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “No? Why would I do that?” he teased, his tone light but carrying a hint of the vulnerability you knew he was trying to mask.

You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling some of the tension ease between you. “Well, since you’re here, you might as well see a show tonight. I hear it’s going to be a good one.”

Spencer’s smile widened, the relief evident in his eyes as he realized you weren’t upset. “I’d like that,” he said softly. “I’d really like that.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the light banter easing some of the weight that had been hanging over your relationship. There was still so much to talk about, so much to work through, but for now, the fact that Spencer was here—willing to put in the effort and show up—meant something. And that was a start.

—

Emerson found a small table just within view, keeping a discreet yet vigilant eye on you and Spencer as the two of you settled into a cozy café along the canal. The picturesque setting, with its cobblestone streets and gently flowing water, seemed to work its magic, casting a warm, romantic glow over everything. You could see the old-world charm of Amsterdam reflected in the brown of Spencer’s eyes, and the peaceful atmosphere made it easy to forget, if only for a moment, the unresolved tensions between you two.

As you both sipped your coffee, the conversation naturally flowed, light and easy, with a hint of the playfulness that had always existed between you.

“This place is amazing,” Spencer remarked, looking around with genuine appreciation. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere quite like it.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you agreed, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face. “But I have to admit, I’m a little biased. I’ve always had a soft spot for places like this—where everything feels timeless.”

Spencer smiled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Timeless suits you,” he said, his voice soft but filled with meaning.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, the compliment catching you off guard. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?” you teased, trying to downplay the effect his words had on you.

“Only when it comes to you,” he replied, his tone slightly more serious but still playful enough to keep things light.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his flirtatiousness. “Careful, Dr. Reid. You’re getting dangerously close to charming your way back into my good graces.”

Spencer leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mix of intelligence and mischief. “Is that so? Because I was under the impression I had quite a bit of ground to make up.”

You raised an eyebrow, matching his playful tone. “Oh, you definitely do. But I have to say, this impromptu visit to Amsterdam is a pretty solid start.”

Spencer’s smile widened, emboldened by the fact that you hadn’t shut him down. “Well, I’ve always been a fan of spontaneous gestures. Especially when they involve canals and coffee with a beautiful woman.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Spencer, you’re laying it on thick today.”

“Just trying to make the most of the moment,” he said, his voice softening as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

For a moment, it was easy to forget that you hadn’t made up your mind about where things stood between you. The romantic setting, the easy conversation, and the lingering affection between you made it feel like everything was just as it had been before. You allowed yourself to bask in the moment, enjoying the way Spencer’s presence made you feel—light, happy, and maybe even a little bit hopeful.

As you both continued to flirt and laugh, the city of Amsterdam seemed to wrap you in its embrace, making it easy to pretend, just for a little while, that all the hurt and uncertainty were far behind you.

—

While you were whisked away for sound checks and concert preparations, Spencer found himself with some time to explore the charming streets of Amsterdam on his own. The city was a maze of narrow alleys, quaint shops, and hidden gems, each turn offering something new to discover. As he wandered, Spencer stumbled upon a small, local florist tucked away on a quiet street corner. The shop was brimming with vibrant blooms, their sweet scent filling the air. It was then that an idea struck him.

—

That evening, as you took the stage, you felt a different kind of energy pulsing through you. The anticipation of the performance always brought a thrill, but tonight was special. You knew Spencer was somewhere in the crowd, watching you with those thoughtful eyes of his. It was hard not to shine a little brighter, knowing he was there, sharing this moment with you.

Even with thousands of faces in the crowd, you could sense him out there, unwavering in his attention. Knowing he was watching, supporting you, made you feel invincible. For the first time in a long while, you fully embraced the moment, letting the music and the crowd's energy fill you up.

When the concert ended, the thunderous applause echoed in your ears as you walked off the stage, your heart racing—not just from the performance, but from the anticipation of seeing Spencer again. The night wasn’t over, and you couldn’t wait to see what it had in store.

—

The ride back to your hotel from the venue was charged with a new, palpable energy between you and Spencer. The city lights flickered past as you sat together in the backseat, his hand gently holding yours, and you didn’t pull away. You let him hold onto you, both of you savoring the quiet connection that had started to rebuild itself.

When you arrived at your hotel, Emerson gave you a goodnight with a knowing wink before leaving you and Spencer alone. As you opened the door to your room, you were greeted by a breathtaking sight—every surface in the vintage, pristine room was covered in flower bouquets. The rich scent of fresh blooms filled the air, making the moment even more surreal.

“Spencer?” you called out, still taking in the unexpected surprise.

“Yes, Y/N?” he replied, his voice soft, almost nervous.

“You did this?” you asked, turning to face him with wide eyes.

“No, it was all Dylan,” he teased, trying to keep his tone light.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “He would never. He’s allergic to flowers.”

“Emerson?” Spencer suggested, his voice growing more uncertain as you began to slowly walk toward him.

“Nope,” you shook your head, a playful glint in your eye. “They have strict rules to follow. This would break a lot of them.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his mind racing as you closed the distance between you. “Then it seems like you have a secret admirer,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

“I wish I could properly thank them,” you said, your voice just above a whisper as you stopped right in front of him.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat as he looked down at you, his heart pounding in his chest. “How… how would you thank them? Just so I can pass the word on if I find them,” he asked, his voice barely steady.

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing his as you whispered, “I don’t think I can say… it’s explicit.”

His eyes darkened with desire, the playful banter between you intensifying the tension. Spencer’s breath hitched, his mind reeling as he struggled to keep his composure, realizing that perhaps, just perhaps, this night was about to become even more unforgettable.

“Maybe—shit,” Spencer stammered as you began kissing his neck, your hands skillfully unbuttoning his shirt. His words faltered as he tried to maintain the playful charade. “Maybe, if you showed me, I could tell them…”

You pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, a smirk playing on your lips. “Spencer, drop the act, or I’m kicking you out.”

He swallowed hard, his playful facade crumbling under the intensity of the moment. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice a mix of submission and anticipation.

Spencer leaned down to kiss you, his intentions clear in the warmth of his gaze, but you stepped back just in time, a playful smile dancing on your lips. He paused, momentarily thrown off by your sudden evasion, but then a glint of mischief sparked in his eyes.

You slowly dodged him, weaving around the vases of flowers that filled the room, sneaking glances at him over the tops of the beautiful petals. Each bouquet served as a playful barrier, giving you just enough of an edge to keep him at bay. Spencer, undeterred, followed you with the focused intensity of a predator stalking its prey, his movements deliberate yet light-hearted.

The room was filled with the scent of fresh blooms, but all you could focus on was the chase—the way Spencer’s eyes tracked your every move, the way his playful demeanor had resurfaced after being buried under months of tension. It was as if the playful spirit of your relationship had finally defrosted, melting away the distance that had grown between you.

As you ducked behind a particularly large vase, you caught a glimpse of him moving closer, his eyes locked on yours. He was enjoying the chase, and you could feel the thrill of the game building between you. You darted to the side, but he was faster, anticipating your move and closing the distance.

“Got you,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he finally cornered you against the wall, his arms bracketing you in. His smile was wide, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he leaned in close, leaving no more room for escape.

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, yet filled with vulnerability.

Spencer’s eyes softened even more, understanding the weight of that single word. His expression grew serious, all the playfulness giving way to something deeper. He reached up, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“I promise,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “I won’t let you down again.”

With those words hanging in the air, the distance between you finally closed as Spencer leaned in to kiss you. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, as if he was savoring the moment, afraid to rush what felt so fragile. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and for a brief second, everything else faded away—the flowers, the room, the world outside—leaving just the two of you, wrapped in intimacy.

As the kiss deepened, the tentative touch gave way to something more urgent, more desperate. Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, his fingers pressing gently but firmly into your skin as if grounding himself in the reality of you being there, in his arms. You responded in kind, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, the soft strands slipping between your fingers as you pressed your body against his, seeking more of the warmth and comfort his presence brought.

The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of familiarity and longing that you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much. His lips moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, taking their time to explore every curve and contour of your mouth, as if memorizing the sensation all over again. The kiss was filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long, now finally unleashed in the safety of this shared moment.

Your breath quickened as the heat between you grew, the banter from earlier now replaced with an intensity that left you both breathless. Spencer’s hands slid up your back, his touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake as he pressed you against the wall, his body a solid, reassuring presence against yours.

Every inch of you was aware of him—the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the subtle tremor in his hands as they roamed your body, the way his lips claimed yours with a possessive need that made your pulse race. The air around you crackled with the electricity of unspoken desires, the kind that had been dormant for far too long.

You felt the world around you blur, your senses overwhelmed by the feel, taste, and scent of him. Spencer’s lips left yours only to travel down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive curve of your neck. A shiver ran through you, your body responding instinctively to the sensation, your head tilting slightly to grant him better access. His name slipped from your lips, a breathless whisper that held a world of meaning, of need, of budding trust.

He paused for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both caught your breath. The look in his eyes was one of pure, unfiltered emotion—love, desire, and a hint of the vulnerability that came with baring one’s soul to another.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, “I need you.”

The simple statement, filled with so much more than just physical desire, resonated deep within you. It wasn’t just about the touch or the kiss—it was about everything you had shared, everything you had lost, and everything you were beginning to find again. In that moment, you knew that this was more than just a kiss—it was a step toward healing, toward rebuilding what had been broken, and toward rediscovering the love that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to bloom again.

“You have me,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling inside you.

“I do?” Spencer asked, his eyes searching yours, filled with hope and disbelief.

“You do, Spencer,” you affirmed, your words laced with all the sincerity you felt in that moment.

With that, any lingering hesitation vanished. Spencer’s hands, warm and sure, found yours as you both slowly made your way toward the bed. The room seemed to pulse with the energy between you, every step heightening the anticipation that had been building all evening.

As you reached the edge of the bed, Spencer paused, his gaze locking onto yours, his eyes reflecting the depth of what was about to happen. He pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly, and in that moment, it was as if everything fell into place—every word, every gesture, every unspoken promise.

Gently, he guided you down onto the soft sheets, the world narrowing to just the two of you. The mattress dipped slightly under your combined weight, the sensation grounding you both in the reality of this moment. Spencer hovered above you, his hands framing your face as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and filled with the unspoken vows of what you were rebuilding together.

His lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as though he was savoring every second, every sensation. His fingers trailed down the side of your face, brushing over your jawline before gently tracing the curve of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You felt the warmth of his body pressing against yours. The fabric of your clothes created a tantalizing friction between you, the anticipation building with every subtle movement. Spencer’s hand slid down to your waist, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your shirt, igniting a trail of heat as he slowly lifted the fabric, his touch both hesitant and eager.

As he leaned in closer, his breath ghosted over your skin, leaving a tingling warmth in its wake. The weight of him above you was a comforting reminder of his presence, his body cocooning you in a protective embrace. His lips moved to your jaw, then to the delicate curve of your neck, where he pressed soft, lingering kisses, each one sending a wave of warmth cascading through your body.

You arched slightly beneath him, your hands finding their way to his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch. Spencer’s hand continued its exploration, moving from your waist to your hip, then down the curve of your thigh, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns that left you breathless.

The world outside the room faded away, leaving just the two of you enveloped in this moment of rediscovery. Every touch, every kiss, felt like a promise—of forgiveness, of healing, of a love that had been tested but refused to break. Spencer’s eyes met yours, a silent question lingering in them, and when you nodded, he smiled—a tender, genuine smile that spoke of the hope you both held for what lay ahead.

His lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. The intensity of the moment wrapped around you both like a warm embrace, pulling you closer, dissolving any remaining doubts.

The soft fabric of your clothes slowly gave way under his touch, his hands sliding beneath to explore the warmth of your skin. Every brush of his fingers sent a wave of sensation coursing through you, heightening the anticipation that had been building between you.

You arched into him, your breath hitching as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake. His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, urging him on as he continued his slow, deliberate exploration. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you, was as though he was rediscovering every part of you, savoring the familiarity and the newfound intensity that came with the rekindling of your connection.

Your hands found their way to the buttons of his shirt you never got to finish undoing, your fingers trembling slightly with the urgency of your desire. As you worked to undo them, Spencer’s lips moved lower, his breath warm against your skin, each kiss igniting a deeper longing within you. The fabric of his shirt slipped off his shoulders, revealing the familiar contours of his chest, his skin warm and inviting under your touch.

With a gentle but insistent push, Spencer guided you back down onto the sheets, his body hovering over yours, the weight of him pressing into you in a way that made your heart race. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything else fell away—there was just you, him, and the intense connection that pulsed between you.

His lips found yours once more, the kiss growing more heated, more insistent, as the boundaries between you blurred. His hand slid down your body, tracing familiar paths with a renewed intensity. When he reached your core, his touch was confident, knowing exactly how to apply just the right amount of pressure, a skill only a lover who truly knows your body could master.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Spencer’s fingers continued to work their magic, the sensations sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. His mouth moved from your lips to your chest, leaving a trail of heated kisses down to your nipples. His breath was warm against your skin, each exhale sending a new wave of anticipation through your body. Your hands roamed over his back, fingers digging in slightly as the intensity of the moment built between you.

Spencer’s touch was both firm and gentle, guiding you through waves of pleasure with an ease that spoke to the depth of your connection. Every movement was purposeful, designed to bring you closer to that edge, yet slow enough to savor each moment. He was meticulous, attentive, ensuring that your every reaction was met with just the right response.

The rhythm between you was perfect, a dance of mutual desire and trust. As you moved together, the sensations intensified, each one drawing you closer to the brink. Spencer’s name slipped from your lips in a breathy whisper, a sound that spurred him on, his own need mirrored in your eyes.

Finally, when the tension became too much to bear, you let go, surrendering to the flood of sensations that washed over you. Spencer kept his rhythm steady, guiding you through the waves of pleasure until you began to shake, your body trembling from the intensity. When you pushed his hand away, overwhelmed by the sensations, he relented, his touch immediately softening.

“Spencer…” you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes, your voice breathless, “please.”

He gazed down at you, his expression softening with affection and understanding. “Okay, baby. I got you,” he whispered, his voice soothing, full of promise.

“I know,” you replied, your trust in him evident in those two simple words.

Spencer smiled at you, the warmth in his eyes reflecting the deep connection between you. He leaned down, brushing a tender kiss against your lips before positioning himself. His movements were deliberate, careful, as he lined himself up with you, ensuring that you were both ready for what came next.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air as he entered you slowly, each inch sending a new wave of sensation through your body. He paused for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the feeling, before he began to move with a steady, unhurried rhythm. Every thrust was measured, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second of being with you in this way.

Your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging in slightly as he picked up the pace, the urgency between you building once more. The sounds of your breathless moans and his deep groans filled the room, blending with the scent of flowers and the lingering intimacy that wrapped around you both.

With every movement, Spencer's focus was entirely on you—on your pleasure, your needs. He watched your reactions closely, his gaze never leaving your face as he adjusted his rhythm to match what you needed. His own pleasure was secondary, a distant thought compared to the overwhelming desire to see you completely fulfilled.

Spencer’s name slipped from your lips in breathless whispers, the sound fueling his determination to bring you as much pleasure as possible. His touch was both gentle and firm, knowing exactly when to push you further and when to hold back, drawing out the moment, making it last.

As the tension built once more, you could feel the waves of pleasure building inside you, Spencer’s steady rhythm guiding you to the brink. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, a gesture that was both intimate and grounding, reminding you that he was right there with you, sharing in every moment.

When the release finally came, it was overwhelming, a powerful surge of sensation that left you breathless and trembling in his arms. Spencer helped you through it, his movements gentle and reassuring as he guided you down from the heights of pleasure as he held you close, as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

His own release followed soon after, his grip on you tightening as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. The sound of his ragged breathing filled the room, mingling with your own as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together.

In the quiet aftermath, Spencer pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace. Your heart beats slowly returned to normal, the world around you gradually coming back into focus. The room was filled with the scent of flowers, the warmth of your shared intimacy, and the comforting presence of the person who knew you better than anyone else.

Spencer’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch soothing and gentle. “Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice soft, full of concern and love.

“I’m not sure,” you teased, a smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Spencer groaned, a flush of mild embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “Y/N…”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free. “I’m okay, Spencer. Really. Are you?”

He looked down at you, his eyes warm and filled with a contentment that made your heart swell. “I’m happy,” he said simply, his voice carrying the weight of everything he couldn’t quite put into words.

Your heart soared at his confession, a wave of warmth spreading through you. “Me too,” you whispered, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over you.

And for the first time in what felt like too goddamn long, you fell asleep in Spencer’s arms, your bodies intertwined, the world outside fading away as you drifted off into a restful, contented sleep.

—

Spencer did have to return home, and you had to move on to your next tour location, but neither of you parted without lingering kisses and heartfelt promises.

Standing at the door of your hotel room, Spencer pulled you close, his hands gently cradling your face as he pressed one last, tender kiss to your lips. The moment was bittersweet, filled with the knowledge that your paths would diverge once more, but also with the hope that this wasn’t goodbye.

“See you later,” he murmured against your lips, his voice full of sincerity.

“See you later,” you echoed, your hands clutching at his shirt, reluctant to let go.

With one final embrace, Spencer slowly pulled away, his fingers trailing down your arm as if he couldn’t bear to break the connection entirely. He gave you a soft smile, one that spoke of the unspoken feelings still lingering between you, before turning to leave.

As you watched him walk away, your heart felt lighter, knowing that this was just a temporary farewell. There was a quiet confidence in the promise you had made to each other—a promise that despite the distance, you would find your way back to one another. And as you prepared to move on to your next tour location, you carried that promise with you, feeling more connected to Spencer than ever before.

—

November, 2008

“Y/N, how would you feel about taking a break between the next two stops?” Dylan suggested casually, though his tone held a hint of something more.

You immediately perked up, curiosity and concern flashing across your face. “Why? Did something happen?”

“No, nothing like that,” Dylan reassured you with a warm smile. “You’ve just been working so hard, and there’s a scheduled two-week break where you don’t have any obligations.”

“Seriously? How did that happen?” you asked, surprised and a bit skeptical. It wasn’t like your schedule to have such a gap.

Dylan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Because your assistant loves you and wants to make sure you stay healthy.”

Your face lit up with gratitude. “I love you too. There’s really a whole two weeks of nothing?”

“Well, not nothing,” Dylan laughed. “I still need you back for sound checks before your next show. And at least one or two posts each week.”

“Deal,” you agreed without hesitation, excitement bubbling up inside you. “When can I leave?”

“After tonight,” he replied with a grin, knowing exactly where your mind was headed.

Without thinking, you ran over to Dylan and planted a big, affectionate smooch on his head, overwhelmed with gratitude. You hadn’t seen Spencer since Amsterdam—two long months filled with phone calls and texts that were nice but could never quite fill the void. It was hard, and you couldn’t lie to yourself about that. You missed him, missed the way he made you feel when you were together.

And Spencer? He was trying his best to be patient, reminding himself that you were busy, that you were on another continent, and that the occasional game of phone tag had nothing to do with how you felt about him. But it was tough, and he was counting the days until he could hold you again.

As you packed up your things, the thought of seeing Spencer after so long filled you with a renewed energy. The anticipation of being together again, even if just for a short time, made the time apart seem worth it. And you knew that the moment you were back in his arms, everything would feel right again.

—

You knew Spencer wasn’t on a case—he always made sure to tell you when one came in, just in case you needed to reach him and he was unavailable. So, without hesitation, you booked a flight to New York. You barely had time to drop off your things, shower, and repack before you were on a train heading to Virginia, your heart racing with anticipation.

Spencer wasn’t expecting anyone when he heard a knock on his front door. He approached with caution, wondering who could be visiting at this hour. But when he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat.

“Y/N??” he exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Boo,” you said playfully, a grin spreading across your face.

Without a second thought, Spencer opened the door all the way and pulled you into a tight hug, the relief and joy in his embrace unmistakable. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to see my favorite genius,” you replied, your voice muffled slightly against his chest.

“But you’re on tour,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at you, concern and confusion etched on his face.

“Oh yeah, I quit. Canceled everything,” you said nonchalantly, trying to keep a straight face.

“What?? You can’t do that! Your fans! Your—” Spencer began to panic, but the sight of your teasing smile stopped him mid-sentence.

“I’m kidding, Spence,” you laughed, lightly tapping his chest. “Dylan scheduled me for a break.” You bit your lip, smiling up at him with excitement and mischief.

“How long do I have you for?” he asked, his voice softening as he searched your eyes.

“Forever? Hopefully,” you teased, but there was a sincerity in your tone that made Spencer’s heart swell.

“Y/N…” Spencer was speechless, overwhelmed by the sight of you standing there, in his doorway, after so long. He was so, so in love.

“Just under two weeks,” you added, your smile growing as you saw the love and happiness in his eyes.

“That’s more than I could’ve hoped for,” he whispered, pulling you back into his arms, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. And in that moment, with you in his arms, the world felt perfect once again.

—

While Spencer was at work, he recommended that you read a book he loved, something to keep you occupied while he was away. With nothing else on your agenda, you decided to take him up on the suggestion and finally had a chance to relax. Settling into a comfortable spot, you cracked open the book, curious to see what had captured Spencer’s heart.

As the hours passed, you became completely engrossed in the story, savoring every word. It was a romance novel, something you hadn’t expected from Spencer, but it touched you deeply. The characters’ journey mirrored so many of your own emotions, their struggles and triumphs in love resonating with everything you and Spencer had gone through.

When you finally turned over the last page, satisfied yet yearning for more, you noticed something scrawled in messy pen on the inside of the back cover. Your heart skipped a beat as you began to read the familiar handwriting.

My love—

Words will never be able to capture how truly sorry I am for everything I have done, for everything I have put you through. I am beyond grateful you gave me a second chance, not just with you, but at happiness, fulfillment, and love. I love you. There is only one piece missing now from our ever-evolving puzzle.

Will you be my girlfriend?

Sincerely, your desperately in love, Spencer

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reread the note, the sincerity and vulnerability in his words hitting you right in the heart. You couldn’t help but smile through the tears, your heart swelling with love for the man who had poured his emotions onto the page, who had been brave enough to ask you for a second chance at happiness.

When Spencer returned home that evening, you didn’t wait for him to ask how the book was. You simply walked up to him, holding the book in your hands, and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.

“Is that a yes?” Spencer asked softly, his voice full of hope and love as he held you close.

You looked up at him, your eyes still glistening with tears but your smile radiant. “Of course it’s a yes, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new, beautiful piece in your love story.

—

Bonus

“Billie, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Billie,” you said, introducing the two with a warm smile.

Billie smiled at Spencer, her eyes curious as she took him in. “Hey, nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, her tone friendly and genuine.

Spencer returned the smile. “Likewise. It’s great to meet you too, Billie. Y/N’s told me a lot about you as well.”

Billie chuckled, glancing at you with a playful grin. “All good things, I hope?”

“Only the best,” Spencer replied, his gaze shifting to you with a fondness that didn’t go unnoticed.

You couldn’t help but smile at the easy exchange, relieved that two of the most important people in your life were finally meeting. The moment felt natural, like two pieces of your world finally clicking into place.

“So, Spencer… you thought I was Phoebe Bridgers?” Billie asked with a teasing grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he managed a sheepish smile. “In my defense, the photo was pretty blurry,” he replied, his tone light but sincere.

Billie laughed, shaking her head. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. But I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.”

“Only a year or so too late, but he just upgraded his prescription,” you teased, flashing Spencer a playful grin.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “Better late than never, right?”

Billie laughed along, the lighthearted banter putting everyone at ease. “Well, I’m glad you can see things clearly now,” she joked, giving you a wink.

“Did she just wink at you?” Spencer asked, his voice a mix of playful suspicion and amusement.

“Spencer!” you groaned, laughing as you nudged him lightly. “Don’t start!”

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

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mariclerc · 4 months ago

Note

hey just read your Charles × horner reader fic. it was really AMAZING. can you pls make a part 2. where they get married and maybe the reader becomes Charles's engineer. on the other hand christian understand his mistake and try to mend the relationship between him and his daughter.

Thank you for this request! I hope you like it!! 🤍🤍

Second chance spark (pt.2) | cl16

Summary: where Charles thinks you're a nepo baby just because of your last name. Warnings: horner!reader, christian being such a big asshole and fluffy fluff... This is a looong one, I hope you like it <3

Part 1

Two years later...

The Italian Grand Prix is a whirlwind of activity and a little bit of pressure for Ferrari, as usual. Mechanics scurry around the gleaming red Ferrari, finalizing preparations before qualifying. Charles, focused and sharp, sits in the cockpit, helmet on, he's ready for his first quali run.

But amidst the organized chaos, his eyes dart towards the pit wall, searching for a familiar face... He finds you, now a fully-fledged Ferrari race engineer with your headset on, eyes scanning data streams with a quiet intensity.

A ghost of a smile touches his lips as your eyes meet, a silent communication passes between the two of you, a wordless encouragement and a shared determination for victory.

Charles takes pole position, the roar of the tifosi deafening. He clambers out of the car, adrenaline coursing through his veins. As he removes his helmet, a delicate hand reaches out, offering him a water bottle.

It's you, your eyes sparkling with pride. You give him a quick hug, a silent celebration away from the prying eyes of the media.

He smiles. “Great job out there chérie, feeling good about the race?” he whispers softly. (darling)

You smile back at him. “Always, we've got this! The car is on fire this weekend!”

Charles rises an eyebrow playfully. “Is that what the engineers are calling it these days? On fire, huh?” he says teasingly.

You giggle. “Hey, you know technical jargon is evolving... Besides, you were an absolute rocket out there!” you say teasingly.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, a stark contrast to the early days of your relationship, when tension hung heavy in the air.

He lowers his voice. “Hey, princess... About your dad...”

You hold up a hand, stopping him before he can finish the sentence. “Don't, baby we agreed, no Red Bull family drama in the Ferrari garage... Let's focus on the race, okay?”

Charles nods, understanding. He knows the estrangement between you and Christian still cuts deep, a silent wound. But seeing the fire and determination in your warm eyes, he can't help but admire your strength.

***

Race day has arrived and you and Charles arrive quite early at the paddock, especially to finalize some things regarding possible strategies that may happen in the race. Working with him is possibly the best thing in the world, he listens to your suggestions and you listen to his, you two make a great team, the perfect combination of natural speed and intelligence.

At the time of the race Charles is leading with a great advantage over Max and you are giving him the latest instructions over the radio communication.

Charles finally crosses the finish line first, the roar of the crowd shattering the air. He pumps his fist in the air, his heart overflowing with elation. As he steps out of the car, the jubilant faces of the Ferrari team greet him. He immediately seeks out for you, and you place your arms around him in a tight hug, relief and joy mingle in your eyes as you pull back.

“You did it again! We did it babe!” You say full of pride and happiness for your boyfriend.

Charles holds your gaze, a silent promise hanging between you two, he leaned towards you to give you a kiss, it was a short one, but it meant a lot. This win, it wasn't just his, it was a victory for your love, your shared passion as a couple, and your defiance against those who doubted your relationship.

“Now go to the podium, champion!” You tell him while you have a smile on your face.

He smiles at you and kisses you again before heading to the cool down room, out of mere curiosity, you turned your gaze to the side of the Red Bull mechanics who were below the podium too and met Christian's gaze, you quickly stopped looking there and you focused on your boyfriend, who was coming out to the podium with a big smile on his face.

***

The celebration dinner is a blur of champagne toasts and laughter. Now, finally alone in your's and Charles' apartment, a comfortable silence settles.

You walk over to the window, gazing at the twinkling cityscape. Charles joins you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“That was... Incredible. You were amazing today.” he murmurs against your neck.

“So were you on track sweetcheeks.” you say, leaning against him.

He turns you to face him, his fingers gently tilting your chin up.

“Two years, huh? Still the best decision I ever made in my life.” he says softly.

You smile shyly, your eyes filled with love and care. “Mine too baby” you say tenderly. “But wasn't your best decision to have signed with Ferrari? Or am I wrong, love?” You say and let out a giggle.

He chuckled softly and giggled. “Ehm... Probably, but they were both the best decisions of my life, that's for sure.”

You just smiled and you two share a kiss, a slow and tender one that speaks volumes. You pull away slightly, a thoughtful look on your face.

“How about we celebrate with some takeout? My treat, since you're the reigning champion.”

Charles raises an eyebrow playfully. “Only if you promise to let me win next time we play Mario Kart.” he say with a grin on his face.

You laugh. “No promises baby, no promises.”

You two head towards the kitchen, your laughter echoing in the apartment. The future may be uncertain, but for you and Charles, the bond you forged in defiance has only grown stronger. Together, you face the world, a love story written in checkered flags and stolen kisses in the pit lane.

***

A few weeks later you and Charles find yourselves in a Italian countryside. The Tuscan sun bathes the rolling hills in a golden glow. Vineyards stretch towards the horizon, dotted with quaint farmhouses. Charles drives a vintage Alfa Romeo, the top down, the wind whipping through your hair. You sit beside him, a contented smile on your face.

You've been on a weekend getaway, a stolen moment of peace amidst the relentless F1 calendar. It's been perfect: long walks through ancient villages, lazy afternoons by the pool, and evenings spent under a star-dusted sky.

Charles parks the car on a secluded hilltop overlooking a breathtaking vista of vineyards and olive groves. He turns to you, his eyes filled with a nervous intensity.

You notice his expression. “Charles, what's wrong?”

He takes a deep breath, his voice a touch shaky. “Nothing's wrong, everything's perfect princesse, actually. More perfect than I ever thought possible.” (princess)

He steps out of the car and extends a hand to help you down. You walk hand-in-hand to the edge of the hilltop, the silence rich with unspoken emotions.

“These past two years with you, y/n... they've been the happiest of my life... You've been my rock, my confidante, my biggest supporter, you push me to be a better driver, a better man.” he says looking at you. He stands on one knee and reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. You gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. “We've faced challenges, haven't we? But through it all, our love has only grown stronger... And I can't imagine facing another race, another season, another anything without you by my side.” Tears well up in your eyes as you stare at the sparkling diamond ring nestled in the velvet. “Y/n, will you marry me?” he said with his voice thick with emotion.

The world seems to hold its breath. The only sound is the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. Y/n throws your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Tears stream down your cheeks, a mixture of joy and overwhelming emotion.

“Yes, Charles! A million times yes!” you talk through choked sobs.

He holds you tightly, his heart overflowing with relief and happiness. As you two pull away, he slips the ring onto your finger, the diamond catching the sunlight. You kiss, a promise whispered against your lips.

The two of you stand there for a long time, your silhouettes bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. The future stretches before you both, an open road waiting to be explored, not just as teammates, but as husband and wife. The Tuscan hills have witnessed a love story come full circle, a testament to the power of defiance, passion, and the promise of a forever etched in a simple question and a single, sparkling diamond.

Your laughter breaks the spell of the moment, a joyous sound that echoes across the hills. Charles twirls you around, your face alight with pure joy.

“Okay, okay, I get it, you're strong! But can we please admire the view before you spin me into oblivion?” you say panting a little.

Charles grins, pulling you close again. You stand in comfortable silence for a moment, gazing at the breathtaking panorama before you. “This place... I found it while I was researching for a weekend getaway. It reminded me of you, strong, beautiful, with a hidden sweetness.”

You lean into him, your head resting on his chest. “And you found it after all this time? You're a terrible navigator, Leclerc.”

He brushes a stray curl away from your face, his heart overflowing with love. “Maybe... But at least I found what I was looking for... And now that I have you, I don't think I'll ever get lost again.”

A blush creeps up your neck as you look up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Don't make promises you can't keep, champion. Remember who navigates you to victory most of the time.”

Charles feigns offense, but his laughter betrays him. He pulls you in for another kiss, a slow, lingering one that speaks of promises made and dreams shared.

As you break away, Charles pulls out his phone, capturing a picture of you two with the breathtaking landscape as a backdrop.

“This is going to look great on Instagram.” he says while looking at the picture.

“Oh, so now you're thinking about social media? What about celebrating our engagement first?” you say swatting his arm playfully.

He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close once again. The sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in a blaze of orange and purple hues.

“Alright, alright. But after this, I'm holding you to your promise about takeout and movie night, you know, this champion needs to refuel.” he says smiling.

You laugh, the sound echoing across the hills. “It's a deal! But only because you deserve it, future husband.”

You two head back towards the car, hand-in-hand, your shadows stretching long in the fading light. The road ahead may be filled with challenges, but you'll face them together, a team not just on the racetrack, but in life. And as you walk into the future, the promise of your love hangs heavy in the air, a melody written in laughter, stolen kisses, and a diamond ring that glints under the Tuscan sky.

***

The stifling humidity of Singapore hangs heavy in the air, mechanics scurry around the gleaming cars, the pre-race buzz crackling with nervous energy. You and Charles stroll down the paddock, with your fingers intertwined, your faces lit by a shared secret joy.

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the chatter, sharp and laced with sarcasm.

“Well, well, well, look who it is... The future Mr. and Mrs. Ferrari. Congratulations, I guess...” you hear Christian say sarcastically.

You freeze, your smile faltering, Charles tenses beside you, his jaw clenching. Christian stands in front of you, his expression a mask of forced cheer.

“Dad... Hi.” you say with your voice strained.

Charles steps forward, his voice firm. “Actually, Christian, it's Leclerc now...”

Christian's eyes narrow, a flicker of anger sparking in their depths.

“Right, of course Leclerc... The Ferrari defector who stole my daughter's affections.” Christian scoffs.

You step between them, placing a hand on Charles' arm. “Dad, it wasn't like that... We-” you say softly, but he interrupts you.

“And what exactly do you offer her, Leclerc? A life on the road, chasing trophies? Is that what she wants?” he says towards Charles

Charles meets Christian's gaze head-on, his voice unwavering. “More respect than she ever received from you, that's for sure. You never valued her work, her talent... All you saw was an extension of yourself.” he says in a calm way.

You take a deep breath, your voice regaining some of its strength.

“He's right, Dad... We found something special in each other, something you wouldn't understand.”

Christian's face contorts, a mixture of anger and hurt flickering across his features. “You'll regret this, both of you! This is a world of sharks, Leclerc, and she's naive enough to jump in headfirst with you.” he says scathing

Charles steps closer, his voice low and dangerous.

“Y/n is far from naive, she's strong, intelligent, and capable. And you'll see, we'll make a damn good team, both on and off the track.” he says through gritted teeth.

Christian stares at Charles, the anger in his eyes slowly replaced by a grudging respect. He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

You reaches for his hand, a plea for understanding in your eyes. “Dad, please... This isn't about Red Bull or Ferrari, this is about us.”

Christian looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he releases his breath. “Fine. Be happy, but don't expect an easy ride from me.” he says with his voice subdued.

He turns and walks away, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

You let out a shaky breath, tears welling up in your eyes, Charles pulled you into a tight embrace, whispering words of comfort in your ear.

“Don't worry about him, we have each other.” he murmurs.

He rests his chin on your head, your bodies a silent promise against the backdrop of the bustling paddock. You've faced the first hurdle of the engagement, and emerged stronger. The road ahead may still be riddled with challenges, but you'll face them together, a united front against the storm.

***

Charles finishes the Singapore Grand Prix in second place, a decent result but not quite the win they were hoping for. As he steps out of the car, exhausted but proud, he sees you waiting for him by the pit wall.

This time, there's no need for words. He pulled you into a tight embrace, finding solace in your familiar warmth. Together, you face the cameras and the podium celebrations, a team on and off the track.

The future may be uncertain, but one thing is clear: your love, forged in defiance and passion, will continue to be your driving force.

***

A few months later...

Sunlight streams through the window, casting a warm glow over the elegantly decorated room. You sit in front of a large vanity mirror, your reflection staring back at you. You're adorned in a breathtaking white gown, the intricate lace shimmering like moonlight.

But instead of radiating the joy you envisioned, your face is etched with worry. Your fingers fiddle with the diamond pendant around your neck, the one Charles gifted you on your engagement trip.

A soft knock at the door breaks the silence. A beaming Lila, one of your closest friend and bridesmaid, peeks in.

“Y/n? Are you ready?” she whispers.

You jump slightly, forcing a smile. “Almost... Just finishing up some makeup.” you say with a shaky voice.

“Hey, don't worry girl. You look incredible, absolutely stunning.” Lila walks in and close the door.

You let out a shaky breath. “It's just... everything feels so surreal, you know? Like, what if I trip walking down the aisle? What if I mess up my vows?”

She sits beside you. “Y/n you're overthinking it, Charles loves you, completely and utterly. And even if you do stumble or forget something, he'll find it endearing. Besides, you've got this! You're smart, capable, and in love!”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

“You're right. I just need to focus on Charles. Everything would be fine!”

A mischievous glint enters Lila's eyes. “Speaking of Charles, I saw him earlier. He looks like a nervous wreck too, pacing back and forth in the groom's room.”

You laughed, a genuine sound that chases away some of your anxiety.

“That figures... Mr. Cool and Collected, a mess of nerves? That's new.” You blushed a little as you imagined Charles walking around as he tried to calm down.

“Love does that to the best of us.” Lila says grinning.

A knock on the door interrupts the two of you. Your mother, eyes filled with pride, enters the room.

“Y/n, you're all grown up! My little girl is getting married.” she said with her voice thick with emotion. You tear up, a wave of love washing over you, your mother pulls you into a tight embrace. “Don't forget, sweetheart, you deserve all the happiness in the world. Don't you ever settle for anything less, okay?” she whispers.

You nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks. As your mother helps you with the final touches of your wedding dress, a sense of calm descends on you... You're ready to face the ceremony, ready to face the future, hand-in-hand with the man that you love and adore.

***

Now you stand backstage, with Christian by your side, a tense silence hangs in the air. He avoids your gaze, his face unreadable.

You take a deep breath, breaking the silence.

“Dad, I know things haven't been easy between us, but...” you say softly but Christian interrupt you.

He finally looks at you, a flicker of something akin to pride in his eyes. “Y/n, you deserve to be happy... And from what I've seen, Leclerc makes you happy.” he says with a gruff voice.

You smile widely, a spark of hope igniting in your heart. It's the first time in two years of your relationship that your father has said something nice about you and Charles, and it obviously gives you the impression that perhaps his heart has softened a little.

“Thank you, Dad... It means a lot to me.” you smile softly at him.

He reaches out and gently squeezes your hand, a silent gesture of acceptance. “Now go out there and show everyone why I'm so damn proud of you... Even if I won't admit it out loud.” you giggled at his words.

***

The sunlight streams through stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the aisle. As the majestic strains of a wedding march fill the air, all eyes turn towards the back of the church.

You stand there, escorted by Christian, and you take a deep breath. You heart thumps a frantic rhythm against her ribs, a mix of excitement and nervousness. You steal a glance at Christian, a silent thank you for walking you down the aisle. A flicker of emotion crosses his face, a hint of pride battling with unspoken regret.

As you two reach the end of the aisle, Charles stands waiting, looking every bit the picture of a dashing groom. His green eyes meet yours, a wave of warmth washing over you, the whole world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you there.

Christian give you hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. With a shaky breath, you step forward, your eyes locked on Charles' face.

The officiant begins the ceremony, his voice a comforting constant amidst the whirlwind of emotions. As you and Charles exchange rings, a symbol of your love and commitment, a tear rolls down your cheek, Charles reaches out, brushing it away with a gentle touch.

Then comes the time for the vows.

You step forward, your voice and hands trembling slightly. “Charles, from the moment I met you, there was something different about you: a spark, an energy that drew me in. You challenged me, supported me, believed in me when I doubted myself... We've faced challenges together, navigated a world that tried to keep us apart, but our love only grew stronger.” you take a deep breath. “You're not just my teammate, you're my confidante, my best friend, the love of my life... You make me laugh until my sides ache, you hold me up when I'm falling apart, and you inspire me to be a better person every day.” you look into his eyes, your voice filled with love. “I promise to be by your side, through victories and defeats, to celebrate your triumphs and pick you up when you fall. To be your biggest fan, your rock, your partner in everything... Today, I choose you, and every day after.” you finally say.

A tear rolls down Charles' cheek as he takes his turn.

“Y/n, you entered my life like a force of nature, shattering everything I thought I knew about love... You're strong, independent, and brilliant. You pushed me to be a better driver, a better boyfriend, in general... to be a better man.” he says with his voice thick with emotion, then he takes a deep breath. “We've faced storms, navigated uncertainties, and emerged stronger on the other side. You're my teammate, my best friend, my rock. You make me laugh until I cry, calm my anxieties, and inspire me to reach for the stars.” he looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with pure love. “I promise to cherish you, to support you, to love you unconditionally, to be your partner in crime, your shoulder to cry on, your biggest fan... Today, I choose you, and every day after.” he finally says and smiled at you.

The officiant smiles, a warm light in his eyes.

“With these vows exchanged, I now pronounce you husband and wife... You may kiss the bride.”

Charles cups your face in his hands, your gazes locked in a silent promise. As your lips meet, the kiss is filled with love, passion, and the joy of a future you two will build together.

The cheers and applause of the wedding guests are a distant echo. This moment belongs only to you two, a culmination of defiance, love, and a promise whispered against racing engines, secret kisses and stolen glances in the pit lane.

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles x reader #charles leclerc #charles x you #charles x horner!reader #charles leclerc x horner!reader #mariclerc fics

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paulyenvol6 · 27 days ago

Text

Byka Atroksia (Chapter 25)

Contains: smut, oral (f receiving), breast play, blindfolding, p in v, unprotected sex, edging, incest, slight dom!Daemon, fluff

Wordcount: ~3.14k

Masterlist of this story

A day later you were fully recovered and Daaran allowed you to get up again, which you couldn't be more eager to do.

You met with your sister at the breakfast table and didn't know what to expect when her gaze burned a hole in your chest.

"Are you feeling well?", she asked though she sounded cold.

You nodded and sat down on her opposite. Rhaenyra turned away from you and seemingly examined an apple in a basket.

"So he's back.", she spoke without looking at you and you nodded again. "Yeah."

"Is he here to stay?"

You bit your lip and didn't know what to answer because you honestly didn't know yourself. Rhaenyra looked at you to search for a reaction and her eyes became cold.

"Is he here to stay, Vhaela?", she hissed.

"I don't know.", you breathed and dropped your gaze. Your sister rolled her eyes and exhaled and then stood up to leave the room.

~~~~~~~~~~

Rhaenyra turned out to be a much bigger problem than your father as a matter of fact. Not that he was fond of your desires to marry your uncle but he wasn't throwing spikes at you with his eyes or glared at you every time you entered a room. No one had told Rhaenyra yet about Daemon and your wish but it seemed like she had a suspicion or at least a bad feeling about Daemon staying the capital.

And you were not even sure whether your father would consent to your marriage with your uncle yet so everything was uncertain and shrouded in fog which gave you anxiety. And you also terribly missed Daemon's hands on you and apparently so did he because his eyes were flashing with desire every time he looked at you but you thought that it would be wiser not to risk getting caught before your father had made his decision. If only he did…

It was six days now since you had made your wish to marry his brother in front of him but Viserys acted as if nothing had happened and you were frustrated. Was the matter solved for him?

It took another two days when Viserys finally sent his guards for Daemon and you. You had been reading a book beneath an oak tree when they approached you and your heart had jumped when they told you they were ordered to take you to the throne room. So you followed them, feeling a mix of fear and hope and in the throne room your father and Daemon awaited you. The King didn't sit in his throne which you took as a good sign because he usually sat there to show additional authority.

"Daughter.", he spoke and you hastily walked to stand in front of your father.

"Your Grace."

Viserys cleared his throat. "I guess the two of you can imagine why I brought you here in front of me." You nodded.

"When you communicated your wish to wed my brother to you, daughter, I found myself in uncertainty. I will not pretend to feel fond of this. I definitely had hoped for another match for you, Vhaela and I mayhaps will never be able to understand the bond between you. And yet you claimed that it is what would make you happy. And after all that's what I want. I've grown old, my health most certainly has been better and I want to remember my daughters being happy when I grow even older. I want to lay in my deathbed and know that I have done everything in my power to offer you happiness. And if my brother as your husband is what you most dearly want, I will consent to this marriage, though with conditions and many doubts."

It took up all your power not to start jumping around in happiness and throwing your arms around Daemon but you knew you had to hold a grip on yourself.

"I still can not help but fear that this union will not be a successful one. But I've figured out that all of this goes beyond my understanding so my concerns will not stand in your way if you, Vhaela truthfully want to wed Daemon. But here are my conditions: You will continue to live in the Keep under my watch. Mayhaps one day it will be appropriate for the two of you to live at Dragonstone but right now I want to have an eye on you. You will marry within two moons and no word of your encounters before your betrothal will leave your mouths. Once you're wed it doesn't matter anymore. Brother, you claimed her maidenhead in your wedding night and any other words are nothing but slander."

Viserys took two steps down the stairs until he stood in front of his brother.

"You will love and honour her. You will respect her and never harm her. Do you understand me?"

Daemon bowed his head. "Yes, your grace."

Viserys sighed deeply and looked like he was exhausted. "Go now. Go before I change my decision."

You turned to Daemon to grin at him and the two of you walked towards the door.

Until you were outside you had acted normal but once you stood in the corridor you wrapped your arms around your uncle. You felt him kiss your hair and he rested his chin on your head.

"We're gonna get married.", you whispered and he stroke your back.

"Yes, sweet owl."

You remained like this for what seemed to be forever until Daemon gently pulled away from you and smirked down at you.

"What have you told your father that made him change his mind?"

You smiled widely and put your hands in his neck, feeling so light now that you were finally allowed to show your affection for him in public.

"I don't know.", you truthfully spoke and your betrothed leaned down to kiss you on your lips.

"You will be the most beautiful bride in the seven kingdoms.", he mumbled and you felt the blood rushing into your cheeks. "And while every lord in court will be yearning for you I will remember that you're mine."

You were flushed and felt dizzy, your mind controlled by your lust for him but such thoughts were not appropriate right now. The two of you left the keep and took a stroll during which he told you about what he had done on Dragonstone after you had left. He told you that he had dealt with the servant girl Anicia that actually had conspired with another servant against you and had put something in the tea she had been meant to bring you.

Afterwards he took you to the dragonpit and allowed you to circle the capital on Caraxes a few times which made the adrenaline rush through your veins. It was such a cozy and joyful afternoon and in the evening you felt comfortable and relaxed.

You stood in front of your big mirror watching your servants undo the little braids in your hair but then the door opened all of a sudden and the maidens twitched. Of course it was Daemon, you hadn't expected anything else. He slowly walked towards the group gathered in front of the mirror and smirked smugly. The servant girls looked at the Rogue Prince with big eyes and he rested his hands on his hips.

"I think I will take care of the rest.", he said with his husky voice and the servants didn't hesitate a second and swiftly walked away to leave your chambers.

Daemon stepped behind you and watched your partly undone hair. Without waiting for you to say something he started to undo one braid after one and you were surprised by how skilled he was. You felt goosebumps on your arms as it felt so relaxing and soon your hair fell on your shoulders.

Your eyes caught his' in the reflection of the mirror and he smirked. Without breaking the eye contact he lowered his head and kissed your naked shoulders as your dress elegantly exposed them. His kisses were gentle and soft and you smiled in enjoyment but after a while he stopped and lifted his head again.

"Do you trust me?", Daemon whispered against your ear and without giving it a second thought you nodded.

"I think a woman should trust her betrothed."

Daemon's smirk still didn't leave his face and he reached inside of the front pocket of his pants and took out a scarf. You gulped and watched it, unknowing of what the purpose of it was and then without giving a warning he wrapped it around your face and adjusted the piece of fabric so it covered your eyes.

"What are you doing?", you asked and put your hands on his'.

"It's alright. You'll like it. You'll be even more responsive to me and the pleasure I'll give you will be more intense."

You had your concerns but you did trust him so you allowed him to tie the scarf in a knot behind the back of your head and then Daemon stepped back to regard his work. Your uncle smirked widely as he saw you bite your lip in apprehension and he once again brought down his lips to kiss your neck and shoulders.

Everything was different to you now because you never knew what to expect from him. It felt like all your nerves were especially sensitive and everything that happened around you and that you could feel or hear you felt a thousand times more vigorous.

Then you felt his hands reach behind you and he unlaced your dress. Once it had fallen down completely you felt a breeze on your skin that gave you goosebumps. Your uncle soothingly stroke your skin and then you felt a hand of his' knead at and caress your breasts. You exhaled sharply and Daemon hummed in satisfaction against your hair. Only feeling what he was doing brought entirely new dimensions of pleasure and soon you were breathing heavily when his fingers twisted and circled your nipples.

Daemon watched all of it. His eyes fixed on the mirror he enjoyed your squirming and the little sounds out of your mouth. Then after a while he gently took hold of your hips, turned you around and pushed you until your legs hit the edge of your bed. You understood the sign and blindly let yourself fall on your back.

Then nothing happend and you got comfortable on your bed waiting for Daemon's next action. He had opened his shirt standing by the bed and then crawled onto it to lay on top of you. Your lips slightly parted when you felt his weight on you and Daemon teasingly ran his thumb over your mouth. Then he pushed three fingers inside and you coughed at the surprise but then started to obediently suck on them and twirl your tongue around his fingertips.

His eyes darkened and his cock felt like it didn't have enough space in his pants. It took all of his will power not to just hold you down and fuck into you fastly and roughly but he wanted to have his time with you. A quick release sounded so seducing but teasing and taunting you was what he really felt like doing right now and seeing you with your blindfold and your parted lips made him aware that it would be worth it to be patient.

Daemon removed his fingers from your mouth and caressed the hair out of your face. You hummed when he ran his hands over your neck and shoulder and then seconds later you felt his lips on yours. The kiss was soft and yet intense and demanding. Soon his mouth traveled down between the swell of your breasts and he toyed with your chest a while until you eagerly pulled at his hair.

"Do not get greedy, little one.", Daemon whispered but you squirmed and sighed and just wanted him to do something.

"Please.", you begged and he slapped the side of your ass in response.

"Patience. Or I'll leave you here blindfolded and luscious."

Of course Daemon never would've done it, not only because he wouldn't want any of your servants find you exposed here but also because he wanted to satisfy you in the end and leaving you eager for him? He wouldn't have this.

So after a while he traveled further south until he saw your glistening cunt which he had devoured so many times already. You squeezed your eyes, wanting nothing more than his mouth on your pearl but you couldn't see what he was doing and it was torturing. Daemon admired the sight for a few more seconds and then finally connected his tongue with your pearl and you shrieked loudly. You shivered and moaned as your uncle flicked your little pearl and greedily lapped up every droplet of your arousal.

"Mhmm.", you hummed and it almost sounded like a desperate cry. "Please. Have mercy.", you pleaded because you knew that Daemon found great pleasure in edging and teasing you and you hoped that tonight he might spare you.

But of course he wouldn't. Daemon stimulated your pearl until you saw stars and couldn't form a simple sentence and was able to drive you over the edge within minutes. His tongue knew every little sensitive spot on your body and knew exactly how fast his tongue needed to dance over your pearl. So he turned you into a quivering mess and not being able to see what he was doing only intensified this experience.

After driving you to the edge twice without letting you come he had had you begging and pleading for him which had made him enjoy it so much he thought about doing it a third time but chose differently when you were on the verge of crying.

"N-No please Daemon, please I need it so badly.", you had whimpered and trid to push his head to your cunt again. So after toying with you and teasing you for almost half an hour he made you come on his tongue and licked you through your high, whispering soothing words to you.

"I know. It's alright, I let you come and you can relax now." Drops of sweat had mixed with tears and Daemon knew that he perhaps had been a bit too cruel with you so he caressed your thigh until you felt better and crawled up to lay on top of you.

Daemon removed your blindfold to look at you and the sight of you made him inhale deeply. You just looked so delicate and sweet that his eyes grew even darker from his lust and he kissed you on your forehead.

But then all of a sudden he took hold of your hips and turned you around so you were laying on your stomach. Daemon ran his hands over you back and down to your arse and you could hear him open his pants.

"Spread your legs.", he breathed and you did as he had told you.

Then the next thing you could feel was his cock that entered you with a sharp thrust and you opened your mouth in an attempt to gasp for air. You had your head rested on the side so you yet again couldn't see what Daemon was doing but gods could you feel him. He stretched your walls so nicely and each thrust hit deep inside of you.

His hands held you at your back and he laid on top of you so his mouth was close to your ear.

"Oh fuck.", he growled. You squirmed and whimpered so Daemon's hand pressed on your waist.

"Lay still. Lay still and take what I give you.", he hissed and moved your hair to the side so he could kiss your neck.

"Good girl.", he whispered as you kept your hips still and his words made you feel goosebumps on your skin. His hand caressed the side of your neck and you hissed sharply at each thrust inside of you.

"Daemon. Ughh.", you whined.

"Yes, I know, my sweet love."

The pleasure became almost too much when his right hand slid between your body and the mattress and reached down to rub at you pearl. You were overwhelmed with his scent, his breath on your neck, his touch on your pearl and of course his cock buried so deep inside of you that you wondered how you were supposed to properly walk after this. All of this made your brain fuzzy and your eyes fluttered.

"I want you to come for me, little girl. I'll make you scream my name."

Your eyes rolled back and then your hand blindly reached back and blindly searched for him so Daemon took it.

"I-I want to s-see you.", you whimpered and he smirked and pulled out of you only to turn you on your back.

"Anything you want, love.", he said and thrusted back into you.

Now you could see his pretty face and you smiled satisfied. The way his hair fell into his face and his eyes… Daemon's hand once again traveled between your bodies and put pressure on your little pearl so you were able to reach your high faster.

"I-I think I'm close, Daemon.", you managed to hiss and he lowered his head to kiss you.

"Kostā ivestragī jikagon, byka atroksia. Māzigon syt nyke. Māzigon va." (You can let go, little owl. Come for me. Come on.)

You shrieked his name and came hard on his cock and Daemon could feel you clench around him which brought him right over the edge as well. His eyes rolled back and he gripped the bed sheets while releasing every droplet of his seed inside of your cunt.

"Oh seven hells.", Daemon grunted and panted heavily.

He rolled off you and you both tried to collect yourself staring at the ceiling. But you always felt so needy after you had sex so you crawled to crouch against his side and Daemon who understood wrapped an arm around you and rested your head on his chest.

Soothingly he caressed your head while your hands held on to him as if you wanted to make sure he couldn't leave you. You were shivering, partly because of the effects of your high and also because it was a bit cold in your room so Daemon grabbed the blanket and pulled it over your body.

When you laid there under the blanket pressed to Daemon's body you knew that this was all you ever wanted and you felt overwhelmed with joy. There was nothing in this world you desired more than this and now that you had it tears of happiness gathered in your eyes.

His breathing was steady now and you could hear his heartbeat with your head on his chest. You hummed satisfied which made Daemon smirk.

"Are you alright, little one?", he whispered and you nodded.

"Yes. Very much so." His smirk intensified.

"I'm happy then."

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nutcoffin · 14 days ago

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I would like to call out and formally ask miss @shittyzinkoo to stop tracing other peoples art. And not just for a certain amount of time. Stop it for good.

What am I talking about, you may ask?

Well a few months ago i have found her youtube account because of her kinitopet animations. It was all fine untill I looked into her community posts, where she has been tracing the following artists:

@sin-simps (on tumblr)

Original:______________________________________

Traced/copied:_________________________________

//Note: These have been deleted since, because Sin-Simps talked to her about it(as long as I know). Although this doesn't change the fact it's happened.//

@Scarletwaltz (on tik tok)

Original:______________________________________

Traced/copied:_________________________________

//Note: It's still up on her youtube account.//

@nutcoffin (me on tumblr)

Original:______________________________________

Traced/copied:_________________________________

//Note: The only reason I added the second picture, is because of the same KinitopetAU name that I have. I give the benefite of the doubt though, that its a coincidence. At least I hope so.//

In my case, the one that was on pinterest has been also deleted for my request since:

//Note: She answered that she already deleted it a long time ago, I just couldn't screenshot properly the chat so her answer can be seen//

To be honest it's already a scumy thing to trace a drawing that was made for someone as an answer for a submission-

BUT AFTER A MONTH SHE UPLOADED IT AGAIN

At least I believe so, because I was browsing on pinterest a few days ago and I have found it again without searching for her account or opening a link for the post. The only difference was that the comments were locked so I couldn't wrote that "Hey, this is traced!" in there as I did before.

I have to say I wasn't so nice the second time -

//Note: After a few minutes of my response, this also have been deleted.//

And I would like to apologise for this. I wrote to you in anger and because of that I was rude, but you have to understand that it's not okay to steal other peoples art. Tracing is stealing. Even if it's just a stupid little doodle. You can draw just fine without it, believe me.

For the end I would like to inform you that from now on every time you repeat this with anyone's drawing, your work will be reported. Doesn't matter what platform do you use or if you block this account of mine.

Thank you for reading.

#I want to be peacefull about this so please stop it #anyway #stone tf out of me

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loaksky · 1 year ago

Text

— 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒕 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔

collegefwb!ellie x fem college!reader, angst, hurt / minimal comfort, wc: 3.5k

synopsis: you and ellie were a disaster waiting to happen.

content warnings: language, unforgivably mean!ellie (like atrociously mean, this is a REAL warning), toxic situationships / past relationships, brief mentions of sex, side comment about slipandslide, reader experiences loss, internalized grief and mentions of drunk driving / car accidents. please let me know if i miss anything, this one might be a lot !

author’s note: re-posted this after noticing it wasn’t showing in tags! also noticed some of the tlou community requesting some angst gigglegiggle. perhaps this will lead to a second-chance romance expansion in the future…leave your thoughts heh <3 as always, not proofread well!

tagging @vigskrt, don’t hate me for no happy ending this time around </3 i have plans to build this into a full fic ;)

YOUR FRIENDS HAD WARNED YOU.

They’d told you that Ellie Williams wasn’t shit. She was damaged goods and you were willing to pay the price even if it meant a shattered heart broken into a million unmendable pieces.

You’d given her the benefit of the doubt, had held out hope for the first little while of whatever it was between the two of you. You liked to believe that Ellie was tamping down unprocessed emotions, but she’d been adamant that it was all just good fun.

And you were willing to let it go, willing to take it all in stride if it meant having her in any way she’d give herself to you, but you were splintering glass waiting to give any second.

You’ll never forget the night you crumble.

She says it so casually, like she’s making observations about the weather or the swathes of setting skies. You’re sitting on her couch, basking in whatever remnants of the afterglow remains. Because, frankly, if there’s one thing Ellie Williams is good at, it’s pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you.

She’s across the living room, finishing off the blunt you’d politely declined, watching the slow glide of her goldfish in the tank on her console.

“M’bored,” she says simply.

You shift on your side of the couch, watching as she flicks ash in the nearby ashtray.

“You wanna go out?” you offer, glancing at the sunset outside of her window. “We could—”

She huffs out a humorless laugh, takes an extra long pull before stubbing the roach out and turns to face you. Her black tank top is riding up and you blanche when you see the fresh hickey a little south of her belly button.

You definitely hadn’t given it to her, but you aren’t in the mood to argue at the moment.

“I’m bored,” she repeats. “Of this. Whatever this is.”

You breathe out at nervous laugh.

“Oh c’mon, Els.” You stand from the couch, try to close in on her, but she’s shrugging you off as your hands come out to reach for her.

“I’m serious,” she says, tone bland and gaze glazed, equal parts from disinterest and the high kicking in. “It was fun at first, but this is starting to feel like a chore.”

Your chest tightens, tongue drying as you search her face for any tell.

“I don’t understand,” you murmur. “Where’s this coming from?”

Ellie shrugs.

“I’m just bored and this isn’t doing it for me.”

You’ve been wondering why it seemed like she was anywhere else but present the last dozen moments you’ve spent with her. It was always her half-assed agreements of seeing you when you called. Or less than enthusiastic spans of time where she’d seemed annoyed when you weren’t sated after the first comedown and quietly begged for more.

“Is there… Is there someone else?” you swallow. “If there’s someone else, it’s okay. I’ll—”

Ellie barks a mean laugh.

“You’re naive if you think you’re the only one,” she says, and it’s a nasty confirmation of the suspicions you’d had the entirety of your situationship with the girl.

“Why are you doing this?” you whimper, fingers reaching to tangle with hers.

“Fuck, I’m not high enough for this,” Ellie grumbles to herself as she watches your threads unravel.

“You wanna stop seeing me because you’re bored?” you heave. “You wanna stop this ‘cause you’re bored? Ellie, what the fuck?”

“I said it twice already,” she bites, snatching her fingers from your grasp. “And honestly, I’m over all of this. I’m over the clinginess, the neediness, the hope.”

Your breath catches hard in your throat and Ellie’s eyes meet yours for the first time since her declaration.

“Your friends talk, you know?” she says simply. “They beg me to put you out of your misery, say that you’re a great girl for me.”

And you like to think you are. You like to think that Ellie’d learned to love you the way you loved her; unconditionally, passionately, and in her own fucked up way. But you’d obviously been grossly mistaken.

“Am I not?” you whisper. “You mean the world to me, Ellie. I’d do anything for you. I–I lo—”

“Don’t.” She cuts you off sharply. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Ellie, I love you.”

And the silence is palpable. Tag-teams the tears that choke you as you wear your heart on your sleeve.

She sighs deep, scrubs her palms down her face as she screws her eyes shut.

“God, why do you have to make things so fucking difficult?” she groans.

“Me?” you choke incredulously. “We’ve been dancing around these feelings for a year, Ellie! You turn a blind eye, act like we won’t work when all it’d take is just a leap of faith. Why can’t you have faith in me, Els?”

She rolls her eyes, crosses the living room into her bedroom to collect your clothes off her floor.

“This is why we wouldn’t work,” she’d grunts as she stuffs everything into your backpack. “Because you think you know me, think you know how I feel, what I think, what I want. You don’t know me. You know what I let you and we fuck. That’s it.”

Your body shakes hard with emotion, bones vibrating with unshed tears.

“You’re lying,” you accuse. “You’re fucking lying because you’re scared.”

“Oh, fuck off with the shit, ________, please,” Ellie scoffs, shoving your backpack in your arms.

“It’s okay to be scared,” you argue desperately, reaching for her again. “I get it, this is new for you and it’s a lot to process and—”

“We agreed that this was just a good time,” Ellie says, nudging your arm away. “And right now, this isn’t really feeling like a good time. This feels like you trying to fix me, but I’m not going to change. Not for anyone and especially not for you.”

It’s a brutal stab at your feelings and it makes you sick. Because Ellie’s always known. She’d entertained this whole endeavor knowing you were head over heels and there wasn’t a chance in hell she would reciprocate.

“We don’t have to stop seeing each other, Els,” you try, taking in a shuddering breath. “Just— Just give us a shot. We can work through it and—”

“What’s not fucking clicking?” Ellie cuts you off with a pinched expression. “You’re not my fuckin’ therapist, not my girlfriend, and definitely won’t be anything more than a decent lay. I’m not doing this shit with you anymore. Seriously. Have some self-respect.”

The look of annoyance that crosses her face makes you feel like your feelings are the ultimate burden. And the sob that wracks your body rattles you so hard you cough till you feel like your lungs will dissolve.

It’s absolutely fucking humiliating, the way that Ellie grimaces like this is the most inconveniencing thing in her life as of late.

“Dude, just go,” she says sharply, steering you towards the front door. “Block me, I don’t care, just please let this shit go.”

“You’re actually the biggest piece of shit I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing in my life.”

Ellie barely catches the statement, bulky headphones fitted over her auburn hair, but Dina’s brisk movements towards her catches her attention.

It’d be been a week since she’d last seen you, and quite frankly she’d been relatively surprised that you’d heeded her word about leaving her alone. She’d almost been home free. Almost.

“If this is about your friend—”

“Like hell it is,” Dina scoffs. “Are you serious? I can believe you said all that shit to her.”

“I mean, you warned her, didn’t you?” Ellie shrugs her shoulders, hooking her thumbs through her backpack straps. “Sounds like you should be bitching at her for not listening instead of me for keeping it pushing.”

And Ellie almost lets the irritation bubble over, but the look on Dina’s face has shifted, has her swallowing down whatever residual snark is concocting in the back of her brain.

“She’s devastated, Ellie.”

And it’s the same song and dance, Ellie knows it all too well, the bouts of sadness followed by the niggling feeling of numbness. She’s usually nonchalant, doesn’t feel any moral obligation to tie up any loose ends, but she feels the closest thing to guilt when she sees the genuine concern in your friend’s expression.

“Look, I’m sorry she got her feelings hurt, okay?” Ellie sighs defensively. “But everyone knew what this was going in and I can’t be the only asshole here for keeping it real.”

And of course she can’t take accountability, can’t admit that maybe she’d been too harsh on someone as sweet as you.

“Honestly, fuck you. I don’t know why I’m still fucking friends with you,” Dina whispers.

Ellie rolls her eyes.

“C’mon, D, you serious right now?”

“You hurt her so bad she won’t even eat,” Dina says quietly. “All she ever wanted was to make you happy, Ellie. The least you could’ve done was let her down easy.”

“This is fuckin’ bullshit,” she grunts to herself.

“No, Ellie, your attitude is fucking bullshit, your whole fucking outlook on life,” Dina says stonily, shrugging her shoulders and taking a step away. “But I guess you get hurt once, you hurt a hundred times, right?”

“D, don’t—”

“Whatever.” Dina waves her off. “Apologize, don’t apologize, I don’t fucking care.”

After nearly two weeks of trying to mend the wounds Ellie had left, you get the call. It’s during midterms and you feel like the world is splintering.

Your younger sister had been driving home on the way from her shift when she was struck. She’d been pronounced at the scene and you take the first flight back home.

And you don’t know how to feel. Don’t know how to sort through the nasty mix of emotions that threaten to peel you from the inside out and disintegrate you. Losing Ellie was one thing, losing your youngest sister is like cruel fate.

It doesn’t hit you until after the service. When you’re sitting in her bedroom, combing through her admittance letters and thumbing through old family albums. You land on a particularly devastating photograph. One where she’d finally surpassed you in height and she’d leaned down to kiss your cheek.

The tears are spilling as you turn the page and you see collages of holidays, birthdays, and vacations. The one that sends you over the edge is the most recent.

It’d been spring break and your family had gone tubing. The two of you had drifted off and your mother was able to capture the perfect photo of the two of you with your heads thrown back in laughter.

If you recall correctly, you’d confided in her about your troubles with Ellie and, in an attempt to make you feel better, she’d cracked a joke so funny it made you laugh like things could be okay.

In the first moment that every emotion hits you full force and your sister isn’t there to be your rock, she’s there to catch your falling pieces.

Abby Anderson’s a childhood friend, grew up in the same cul-de-sac and moved the opposite way for university. News of your sister’s death had her making the five hour drive and offering you some semblance of comfort in a familiar face.

The two of you sit in silence as you hold the photo album to your chest and cry until your throat is raw and your eyes are nearly swollen shut. Her palm is warm between your shoulder blades, a gentle anchor in the roiling storm.

Ellie’s stoned out of her mind when she pays your dorm a visit a couple of weeks later. The apology’s long overdue, but she’d been too busy sparking up and getting lost in other people to shake the claws you’ve seemingly sunk into her brain.

It’s half past midnight on a Tuesday when she delivers three hard raps against room 202. Another three when no one answers the first time around.

She finally hears shuffling after the third set and the door swings forcefully before the fourth. And it’s definitely not you.

“Y’know it’s almost one AM and a majority of this building has class in the morning, right?”

Ellie’s posture straightens.

“Hello?”

Ellie doesn’t recognize this girl at all, does a double take to make sure she’s got the right room.

“________,” she says. “She around?”

The girl’s face screws up.

“Who?”

Ellie repeats your name.

“Oh, her,” the girl mutters groggily. “She pulled out of school a couple of weeks ago. Whole floor was scrambling to get reassigned to her room.”

“She what?” Ellie balks.

“She dropped out, I guess, I dunno,” the girl shrugs. “All I know was that the school psych handed us pamphlets about mental health and shit after she left.”

If anyone has any information on you, they won’t budge. And Ellie realizes it’s equal parts for your protection and her punishment. She’d been a nervous fucking wreck the remainder of the semester, couldn’t stop searching every corner of the internet for you, but it seems like maybe that night really does click because she’s blocked on every single platform imaginable.

She’d started smoking more, started fucking less, actually showed up to class. Her brain was practically numb a majority of the time, anxiety eating away during her short bouts of sobriety.

And god, if she had to admit that she’d learned her fucking lesson, had to admit that losing you was agonizing, she would if it meant seeing you again. Even from a distance.

Because she’ll be honest for once in admitting that she fucking misses you. Misses you so much it’s disgusting. And she doesn’t miss the way you make her feel, or the sex, or any of the things you offer her, she misses you.

Craves to see your sunny smile, yearns to feel the way your body nestles perfectly against hers. And your laugh, god your laugh, boisterous and consuming. She’d always told you it was obnoxious, but nothing could crack a smile faster than you throwing your entire body away from her and cackling till you wheeze.

And this is more traumatizing than any previous relationship that made her swear off love altogether. Your disappearance and your absence makes her feel like she’s going insane, like she’s grasping at straws to keep it together.

Mercifully, the semester ends, but summer oozes like viscous torture. And when fall sem of senior year rolls around, she holds out on hope, just needs to tell you that she knows she fucked up and she’s sorry.

But fall is quiet. Winter is quieter and the holidays feel mundane even surrounded by her loved ones.

“Everything okay at school, kiddo?” Joel’s never been one to poke around, just a silent supporter in the midst of Ellie’s growing pains.

Ellie nods, leaning over the railing.

“S’alright,” she shrugs. “It’s school.”

Joel ponders for a moment, looks like he doesn’t want to pry, but his youngest is his soft spot.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” he drawls softly. “I know you better than you think. Know that something’s botherin’ you.”

Ellie hesitates, but decides to bite back her fears. It’s the least she could do for you.

“You ever hurt someone so bad you don’t know how to fix it?” she swallows.

Joel takes in a deep breath, then takes Ellie in.

“You want an honest answer?”

“Please,” she breathes.

“Sometimes you just have to deal with the repercussions of hurting somebody,” Joel says. “Closure is always nice but never guaranteed and the lack thereof is your punishment.”

It does feel an awful lot like punishment, Ellie thinks.

And Ellie learns that the universe can be unforgivable.

Learns as much when she catches a glimpse of you at the campus bookstore when all the students return from winter break.

She nearly drops her stack of books, scurries across the store in half as many strides before her fingers are wrapping around your bicep.

“Holy shit,” she whispers. “It’s actually you.”

You’d been caught so off guard, you barely process the emotions that begin to filter through you, especially when she engulfs you in a bone-crushing hug and rocks you like she’ll never let you go.

“I can’t breathe,” you squeak, hands snaking between your bodies to give her a gentle push.

“Sorry, fuck, I’m sorry,” Ellie blabbers. “For that, for everything, for—”

“It’s, uh, it’s fine,” you say cooly and Ellie’s staring like you’ve sprouted two heads.

Because it’s absolutely not fine. You’d left school for a year and returned looking like a whole new person. Your cheeks are hollow, eyebags prominent, lips chapped. It’s like the past eight months has sucked the life out of you.

“Christ, are you serious right now?” Ellie asks incredulously.

She doesn’t realize how many emotions she’d kept pent up until her vision is clouding and your expression is falling.

“I broke your fucking heart and you scared the shit out of me when you disappeared and I— I thought— I…”

Ellie’s chest is tightening and she feels like she’s gonna throw up when you let out a short breath.

“What, you thought I offed myself?” you ask with a hollow laugh.

“I don’t know what I fucking thought,” Ellie’s voice cracks, and it’s the most emotion you’ve seen from her in the time you’ve known her. “All I knew was that one minute I was seeing you almost everyday and then suddenly, you fell off the face of the Earth and I’d never missed someone so much in my life and I fucking hated every single moment—”

“My little sister passed,” you say simply.

And fuck, she doesn’t expect that.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You definitely fucked me up but there was a lot more to me leaving.”

“Jesus, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Everything okay?” A tall, buff blonde interjects.

It’s subtle, the way the girl’s palm slides to gently fit between your shoulder blades and Ellie’s going rigid.

“Yeah,” you respond, smile soft and familiar.

Ellie’d been on the receiving end once upon a time, and she nearly retches when you shift closer to the girl.

“This is Ellie,” you introduce. “An old classmate.”

The girl gives Ellie a once over, then a pensive smile.

“You ready to check out?” she asks you.

Ellie watches as you give her the upper level philosophy textbook and thinks that it’s fitting, your area of study.

“I’ll be up in a second, just gonna say bye,” you assure her.

She’s gazing down at you for a moment too long, lips curling into a wider smile as she nods in understanding and Ellie has to stop herself from recoiling.

Old habits die hard because she’s picking a fight despite her better judgment.

“So, I’ve been worried fucking sick over you for the past year but you were with someone else this entire—”

“Don’t do that, Ellie,” you say softly. “We’re friends. She helped me a lot through losing Dev.”

“If you called—”

“If I called, what, Ellie?” you ask seriously, but not unkindly.

You’re fed up, frankly.

“I would’ve been there,” Ellie says firmly, then whispers, “I would’ve fucking been there.”

“Would you have really?” you breathe a short laugh through your nose. “Last time we spoke I told you I loved you and you told me to have some self-respect.”

Ellie winces.

“I’ve thought about it,” she swallows.

You only blink up at her.

“It’s all I could think about since last spring, but…” she trails off, searches your face for courage because she’s so fucking scared. “What you said, the last time we spoke.”

“I said a lot of things,” you reply candidly.

“That we could work through it if I gave us a shot,” Ellie murmurs, running her fingers through her overgrown hair. “And I know I’m late—”

“Yeah, no shit,” you say flatly and Ellie flinches.

“But I want us to work and—”

“No.”

And the wind’s knocked from her lungs, makes her stomach wrench.

“And it’s not because I don’t love you anymore,” you say gently. “But because losing Dev taught me to love myself more.”

Ellie’s throat bobs.

“I can’t keep cutting myself down to accept what you feel like giving me,” you say. “Because I won’t take you having me one hundred percent and deciding to give me 10 on the days when the going gets tough. And don’t say you won’t because we’ve already done that shit with no labels.”

Being absolutely read makes Ellie feel infinitely more like shit because she’s never heard such a sound declaration of your unbridled feelings.

“I’m not losing you again,” Ellie whispers vehemently.

“You don’t have to,” you say softly, visibly withdrawing from the conversation. “I’ll always be in your corner rooting for you. But I can’t give you anymore than that. I won’t.”

“Wait, please, I—”

“I gotta go,” you say, peeling away. “Abby’s waiting.”

“Babe, c’mon.”

“I’ll see you around, Ellie,” you bid her, sparing her one final glance. “Take care of yourself.”

neng©️2023

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams au

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