#just wants me to drop everything to comfort him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafeandonlyrafe · 22 hours

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devotee

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, MURDER!, DARK!RAFE but also equally soft!rafe, rafe is clearly mentally fucked uppppp omds, lets just say reader is very forgiving, descriptions of blood and gore, vomiting, pregnancy, semi public sex

you pant heavily as you look around the room, knowing the sight will haunt you for the rest of your life. your clothes are splattered with blood, but not your own.

you should have known this would happen. you blame yourself as you stare at the growing pool of blood around your boyfriends body. there's no point trying to save him, he's long gone, his eyes open and eerily staring at the ceiling, but theres nothing behind them.

you feel sick, and you make no move towards the bathroom. there's no point when the room is already a mess as you lean forward and vomit all over the carpet.

“aww, baby.” rafe coos, dropping the knife to the ground as he gathers your hair into a ponytail, holding it away from your face as you empty your stomach.

“it's okay.” his words and the hand that is stroking up and down your back is soft, completely opposite of the heinous violent act he just committed.

you're unharmed, of course. rafe would never hurt you. his obsession runs far too deep.

“he's gone now.” rafe says as you stand up, looking at him with bloodshot eyes, snot dripping from your nose that you don't bother to wipe away.

“rafe-” you mutter. the only word that you can get out is his name.

“oh, baby.” he pulls you into his chest. you don't fight back, releasing a sob, part out of guilt for finding his hold comforting, but mostly for your boyfriend dead on the floor.

you should have known rafe would come after him. even though you broke up with rafe a month ago, he never processed that you actually weren't together anymore. it's like his brain couldn't accept it.

so when you moved on, found a new guy who you liked decent enough, it only took rafe a week before barging in and ending him, thinking he was saving you.

“i got you.” rafe says, feeling you shake against him.

you can't get yourself to pull away, even as the metallic coppery smell hits your nostrils.

“let's get you home and then ill clean you up, okay?” rafe says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “ive missed you so much baby. the house feels so empty without you.”

“rafe-” you whine out.

“shh, don't try to talk.” he lifts you up so effortlessly it takes you a moment to realize that you're now off your feet, cradled in his big strong arms. “just let me take care of you.”

you know you should run, should scream, should call 911 and tell them everything. you should feel sadder for your boyfriend. you liked him. not like you love rafe, though, so you keep your mouth shut as he carries you out of the house and into his car, gently setting you in the passenger seat. he reaches across and grabs the buckle, doing it up for you before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

the ride home is silent, your hand held in rafes as he breaks the speed limit to get you back to tanneyhill.

“you're home now.” rafe says as he pulls into the driveway.

you wait for rafe to round the car and let you out, of course once again scooping you into his arms. you never have to open a door when around rafe, or even lift a finger if you don't want to.

he would be the perfect guy, sweet and utterly in love with you, if that love didn't distort reality.

“where was i?” you ask. “this last month?”

“you were having some time to yourself before that asshole tried to take you away from me.” rafes face turns sour at the mention of him. “but you're back now, so we don't need to worry about it.”

of course no mention of a breakup as rafe carries you right into the master bathroom. he sets you down on the counter before turning on the bath, adding a hefty amount of your favorite bath soak.

“what if the police come after you?” you question.

“they won't.” rafe says, walking over and cupping your cheek. “are you worried about me?”

you nod. you absolutely are. you don't know what you would do without rafe. even during your “break up”, he still paid for the rent of your apartment, sent you lunch and dinner every day, and texted you the sweetest things that always made your heartbeat a little faster.

“we’ll be fine baby, i promise.” rafes hands begin to work at taking your clothes off. you don't stop him, there's no point, he's seen it all before.

rafe undresses himself next before turning the water off once the tub is mostly filled, leaving enough space for both of you to soak together.

“ready?” he questions, thumb stroking against your cheek.

another nod and rafe is placing you in the bathtub before climbing in himself.

you dunk yourself under the warm water, needing to get every drop of blood off of you. when you come back up, the water is tinted slightly red that almost makes you throw up again.

“i have a vacation planned for us.” rafe says. “to the seychelles, but if you want to go somewhere else-”

“that sounds nice.” you interrupt him. it really does. you need to get away from the outer banks for a while, maybe longer.

“what if we moved?” you question. there's no point in pretending that you'll ever be without rafe. a breakup is clearly impossible, and with that month away, you realize that's not what you actually want.

“to where?” rafe asks, quirking his head to the side curiously. he's always wanting to know more about how your thoughts work, needing to learn everything he can about you.

“anywhere but here. maybe europe. london. madrid.” you shrug. “i just want a change of… scenery.”

a different town, a different country, maybe a different rafe. one where you don't know anyone for him to get jealous of and “rescue” you from.

“we'll figure it out after our vacation.” rafe offers, and you nod, falling into silence as he moves closer, glad the big tub allows for it as you cuddle together, eyes peacefully closing as you rest your head against his chest.

the resort is full of couples, mostly newlyweds happy and smiling and kissing, so it was natural when you sat down on rafes thigh to kiss him.

you hadn't realized how much you missed his lips, his hold, his touch, his cock.

rafe clenches his thigh muscle, hands coming to your hips and pushing you down onto his thigh, your bikini bottoms barely acting as a barrier as you let out a moan.

“rafe.” you moan out, keeping your voice quiet.

you're in a secluded cabana, but couples have occasionally walked past, able to see through the sheer white curtains surrounding the plush bedding.

“right here. right now.” rafe says.

he didn't fuck you that night you came back to him, knowing you needed the rest. he didn't last night either, your first night on the island. the flight was long and you were excited to be somewhere new, so by the time you got back to your room, your were exhausted.

“but the people-”

“if anyone looks at us, ill just kill them.” rafe says.

you know it should worry you, that your first thought is then you'll have to cut your vacation short, but as rafe bounces his thigh, all care goes out the window.

“everyone here is drunk anyways.” you still keep your voice low as rafe lays back, switching so you're underneath him. “they probably won't notice.”

“mhm.” rafe hums, pushing his hips between your legs, parting your thighs as his crotch aligns with yours, rubbing his already hard cock against your covered pussy.

“tell me.” rafe says, burying his head into your neck.

you instantly know what he means. “you're my first. you're my only.”

it's the truth. you could never imagine sleeping with another guy. rafe is all you know, and all you'll ever know.

rafe reaches down, pulling his cock out but leaving his swim shorts as best in place as he can before tugging your bikini bottoms to the side.

rafe pushes into you in one smooth motion, making you moan out as your head tips back.

rafe stills despite the urge to obliterate you, allowing you time to adjust to his cock back inside of you.

“missed this.” you whine. “i-i love you so much rafe.”

“i love you so much more baby. id do anything for you.” including kill. the words go unsaid. they don't need to be spoken aloud.

rafe begins to swing his hips, pushing into you in slow and relaxed strokes, allowing you to build up slowly.

“fuck.” you whine out. “you feel so good.”

“me?” rafe chuckles dryly. “your pussy is so warm and wet baby, it's perfect. i would stay inside you forever if i could.”

you smile up at rafe, allowing yourself to forget the past and enjoy the way he's slowly moving faster, thrusting deeper and harder into you.

rafe cups his hand over your chest, squeezing your breast before moving the bikini top to the side to set your nipple free.

he's quick to arch his back and lock his mouth around your nipple until it hardens, his tongue flicking over the bud without a care for the path just outside your cabana.

“perfect body, baby. so perfect.” rafe switches sides, moaning around your chest. “everything about you is perfect.”

“i love you.” you want to say it over and over again. you pull rafes face to meet yours, kissing him deeply. “i love you.” you repeat.

“i love you.” rafe grunts out, keeping his hips thrusting forward. “ill never leave you. you're mine. im yours.”

you breath in the madrid air, letting the sun warm your face as you wait for rafe to return home to your new apartment.

when you casually mentioned wanting coffee, he was out the door as quickly as he could.

“baby!” rafe calls, heading through the rooms until he reaches the balcony. the smile on his face is infectious as he hands you a cup, of course the largest size, and if you wanted more, he'd be out the door again.

“don't think i can drink all this.” you giggle as you take the cup from him.

“ill just dump the rest.” rafe shrugs. he's so much calmer now that he's out of the outer banks. you've put everything behind you, deciding to start a new the moment your plane landed.

“it's not recommended.” you say. rafes eyebrows scrunch together, trying to understand what you mean.

“im only supposed to have a cup a day, but i still need to find a good doctor in madrid. one that specializes in what im going through.”

“what…” rafe mumbles, mind working overtime. you set your cup down as he thinks, already expecting his reaction when he works it out.

“you're pregnant!” rafe pulls you into his arms, the brightest smile you've ever seen on his face as he hugs and kisses you.

“you're going to be a dad.” you whisper into his ear, feeling tears hit your shoulder.

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alotofpockets · 3 days

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Press conference | Mary Earps x Lioness!Reader

Where Mary and the team help ease your social anxiety that is triggered by a press conference

A/n: I can't find this request anymore, but if you requested this, thank you!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k

-----

You should’ve known that scoring a hattrick in a crucial game would get you a lot of attention from the media, but in the moment you had been solely focussed on playing the best football you could and getting your team the win. But once the final whistle blew and you were hugging your teammates on the field, a staff member took you to the side and led you to one of the interview booths placed on the pitch.

The panic on your face as you walked with him to the reporter was immediately noticed by your girlfriend. Mary dropped the conversation she was having instantly, and made her way over to you.

“So, y/n, scoring a hattrick to get the team back in the lead, that is incredible. Can you walk us through it?” Your eyes were everywhere but the journalist or the camera. When you noticed a familiar pair of boots standing in your line of vision, you looked up and locked your eyes on Mary. She gave you a reassuring nod. With your eyes focussed on her calming ones you attempted to answer the question. “Well, we were 2-0 behind, and we had to win.” Mary watched you with pride, which gave you a little more confidence to continue your sentence. “We fought back hard, and I just happened to be in the right places at the right times.”

Mary shook her head with a proud smirk, you were always one to be humble. Focussing on the team effort rather than your own accomplishments, something she loved dearly about you. As the questions of the reporter continued on, she saw you getting more anxious. With one pleading look her way, she was by your side. “What a match huh?” Mary chimes in with her arm around your shoulder in comfort.

Where you struggled with social anxiety, your girlfriend thrived in social situations. You were happy to have her by your side, so some of the attention would be away from you. Mary interacted with the reporter and all the voices around you moulded into static sound as your eyes unfocussed once more.

Not visible from the view of the camera, you were trying to ground yourself by playing with the fabric on the back of Mary’s jersey. Mary knew you were struggling, so she ended the interview by saying, “If you don’t mind, we’ve got some celebrating to do.” The reporter said of course, and after a quick thank you, Mary guided you away.

“I- I can’t-” Mary held you closer to her side. “I know baby, we’re not joining the team, we’re going inside. I’ve got you.”

Mary led you to the locker room, which was empty as your teammates were still celebrating on the field. When you sit down in your cubby, the reality of the moment fully comes crashing down, making your breathing start to be irregular. Mary kneels down in front of you, “Hey baby, eyes on me.” She lifts your chin, and places her other hand reassuringly on your knee. “Follow my lead, alright?” You nod and breathe along with her, slowly getting your breathing back to its normal pattern.

When you were wiping away your tears, your captain walked in. “Hey, I saw you two wander off and wanted to check if everything was alright.” Leah sat down besides you while Mary was still tracing patterns on your upper thigh.

“Yeah, I’m alright. My anxiety just got the better of me during the interview.” The team knew about your struggles with anxiety, and had been there for you every step of the way. “Alright, take your time here, and let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, okay?” YOu smile and nod, “Thanks Lee.”

Once you feel ready again, you head back to celebrate the quarter final win with the team on the field. When you were walking around the stadium connecting with fans, you noticed either Mary or Leah were only a few steps away from you. Strangely your social anxiety often stayed away when you were just interacting with fans, maybe because you once were the little girl in the stands waiting to meet your favourite players.

Back at the hotel you were desperately in need of some quiet time, so you went to your room immediately. Your roommate Lucy joined you, the two of you were talking when Leah knocked on your door.

“Hey so Sarina wants you to do the press conference with us tomorrow. I wanted to give you a heads up, so you could prepare yourself.” The panic you felt earlier instantly came back. A press conference was even worse than just a camera and a reporter, here a room would be filled with reporters, cameras and microphones.

Both Lucy and Leah noticed the signs and stepped into action. Lucy texted Mary before she sat down besides you, “I used to hate anything media related as well. It made me so nervous, but over the years I got better with it.” Leah sitting on your other side chimes in, “Yeah, I felt the same way. Maybe we can help you prepare for tomorrow, so it will be less scary?”

When Mary joined, the four of you went over some basic questions that were often asked so you could prepare some answers. They also each told you about their strategies to stay calm and grounded during press moments. So, when it was time for the press conference, you at least had the slight feeling like you wouldn’t just shut down entirely.

You wave to the crowd and instantly find Mary and Lucy in both corners of the room. Mary’s words played in your head. “You’ve got this, baby. Just focus on me if you start to feel anxious. We’re all here for you.” Leah walks behind you, “Remember, we’ve all been there. Just take it one question at a time. You’re not alone.” She whispers in your ear, and with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, she sits down in the seat beside you.

The reporters started by questioning Sarina about the line-up for the final. Your eyes met Mary’s, who watched you with a confident smile on her face. She sent you a thumbs up which made you smile. Sarina being questioned first gave you some time to get used to the room of people.

“Sarina, can you walk us through the process of choosing tomorrow’s line up?” A reporter asks. “Certainly. Like always we considered the strengths and tactics of our opponents, as well as our recent form, and the health amongst our players. As it’s a final against a strong team we aim to play a balanced lineup that can adapt both defensively and offensively.”

The reporter thanks Sarina, and the next reporter is pointed out. “Leah, how did you feel about the team’s chemistry on the pitch yesterday?” Leah nods along to the question before answering. “Our communication really strengthened in the second half. I think we’re in a great place, but need to focus on starting with the same level of communication that we ended yesterday’s match with.” The same reporter turned his attention to you.

“Y/n, you scored the winning goals, how did you feel at that moment?” Your eyes find Mary. “Yeah, it felt good. I was just focussed on the goals, and doing my best for the team.” The reporter nods and moves on.

A few questions later, and you’re the one being questioned again. “Y/n, can you talk a bit about the pressure you feel as one of the star strikers of the Lionesses, especially after a performance like yesterday?” Your chest tightens slightly, so you nudge Leah under the table like you had practised. “Well, first off, I’d like to say that I don’t see myself as a star striker. All the forwards, and the rest of the girls are all incredible players, and a win is a team effort.” While you felt yourself getting more anxious, you felt the need to give credit to your fellow teammates.

“But we handle pressure by staying focussed on our training and supporting each other on and off the field. Leah, do you maybe have something to add to this topic as the team’s captain?” Another sign that you had practised if things got too much for you. So, Leah took over instantly. “Yeah definitely. Besides the support we have for each other, we have strategies in place to manage stress and keep our performances consistent. We’re a team in all aspects of the game.”

The interview continues and you focus on Mary and Lucy at the back when answering the questions instead of looking at the reporters or the camera’s.

“Leah, any final thoughts on yesterday’s performance?” The interview was coming to an end and you sighed in relief. “I am proud of the team. Everyone played their part, and we ended strong. Looking forward to doing the same in the final tomorrow.”

Then the final question was sent your way. “Y/n, any personal goals you’ve set for tomorrow.” You take a second before answering, but when Mary nods her head you feel ready for one more question. “Just to keep contributing to the team’s success in any way I can.”

The press conference ends, and Leah leads you out of the room with her arm around your shoulder. “You did it!” She exclaims once you’re away from the cameras. Mary and Lucy made their way out of the room as well. “You did great out there.” Lucy nudges your shoulder. Mary wraps her arms around you, “I am so proud of you, you did amazing.”

Their reassurances meant more than they probably thought they did. You felt proud of yourself as well. You did something you never thought you’d be able to do, and they were there for you every step of the way.

“Come on, let’s get ready to leave. We can cuddle on the bus.” Mary led you back to the hotel rooms, followed by both Leah and Lucy. “Thank you all, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

-----

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23victoria · 2 days

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𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢, 𝚂𝚎𝚝, 𝚂𝚞𝚣𝚞𝚔𝚊

∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿

𝚏𝟷 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚍 𝚡 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚜!𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

✿ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟸.𝟾𝚔

✾ 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚢/𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚂𝚞𝚣𝚞𝚔𝚊! 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎...𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?!

❁ 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕

✿ 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝟷 𝚏𝚒𝚌! 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢! 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!! ꨄ

∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿

The Suzuka Circuit buzzes with pre-race excitement. The paddock is alive with energy as teams make their final preparations, engineers tweaking last-minute details, and drivers mentally preparing for the grueling race ahead. You walk through the paddock with your helmet in one hand, exchanging smiles and nods with familiar faces. The Japanese fans are enthusiastic, their cheers a constant backdrop to the chaotic scene.

You spot Charles near the Ferrari garage, chatting animatedly with his mechanics. He sees you and waves, a friendly smile spreading across his face. "Hey, Y/N! Ready for today?"

"Always," you reply, matching his grin. "You better watch out on Turn 1. I’m coming for you."

Charles chuckles, shaking his head. "We'll see about that. Good luck out there."

As you continue down the paddock, you bump into Lando and Oscar, both engaged in a heated debate over something. "Y/N, settle this for us," Lando calls out. "Chocolate ice cream or vanilla ice cream? Which one is better?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Oh that’s easy! The obvious answer is cookies and cream!"

Oscar stares blankly at you while Lando’s mouth drops. "I know you are lying right now, be so for real Y/N." Lando says.

You walk away laughing, making your way to the Mercedes garage. The mechanics are busy with final checks on your car, and you take a moment to absorb the atmosphere. This is your sanctuary, your battleground. As you step inside, you’re greeted by George Russell, who gives you a friendly pat on the back.

"Nervous?" he asks, his eyes searching yours.

"A bit," you admit. "But it’s a good kind of nervous. It keeps me sharp."

George nods, understanding. "Just remember, you’ve got the skills. Trust yourself."

You give him a grateful smile before heading towards the Sky Sports interview area. The familiar setup greets you, and the interviewer, Rachel Brookes, waves you over.

"Y/N, it’s great to see you," Rachel says, microphone in hand. "The fans are excited, and so are we. How are you feeling about today’s race?"

"I'm excited," you say, the adrenaline already starting to course through your veins. "Suzuka is one of my favorite tracks. The fans here are incredible, so supportive and passionate. It’s an honor to race in Japan."

Rachel nods, smiling. "You’ve had a strong season so far. What’s your strategy going into this race?"

"To stay focused and keep pushing," you reply. "Every race is a new challenge, but I’ve got a great team behind me. We’re ready to give it everything."

"And how does it feel to have so much support, both from the fans and your fellow drivers?"

"It means the world to me," you say earnestly. "The fans' energy is infectious, and it really drives me to do my best. As for the drivers, we might be competitors on the track, but off it, there's a lot of mutual respect. It's like a big, sometimes dysfunctional, family."

Rachel laughs. "Well, we wish you the best of luck, Y/N!"

You thank her and make your way back to the garage, the race now imminent. Your race engineer, Amaria, is waiting for you by the car. Her calm demeanor is always a source of comfort.

"How are we feeling?" she asks, her eyes scanning your face for any signs of doubt.

"Nervous," you admit again, this time more to yourself than anyone else. "But ready. I want this win, Amaria. I really do."

Amaria nods, her expression serious but encouraging. "You’ve got this, Y/N. You’re one of the best drivers out there. Trust your instincts, trust your skills. We believe in you."

You take a deep breath, the weight of her words grounding you. "Thanks, Amaria. That means a lot."

She smiles, handing you your helmet. "Now, let’s go win this race."

You climb into the car, the familiar feeling of the seat and the controls a comforting presence. The world outside the cockpit fades away, leaving only you and the machine. You put on your helmet, securing it in place, and perform your final checks.

Amaria’s voice comes through the radio, calm and steady. "All systems are go. Remember, stay focused. You’ve got this."

"Copy that," you respond, gripping the steering wheel. The nervous energy has transformed into a fierce determination. You’re ready.

The lights go out, and the roar of engines fills the air. The formation lap begins, and you navigate the twists and turns, feeling the car respond to your every command. The nerves are still there, but they’re now a part of the thrill, a part of the drive.

You line up on the grid, heart pounding, every muscle tensed in anticipation. This is it.

∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿

The roar of the engines surrounds you as you race through the circuit, the familiar grip of the steering wheel steady in your hands. Lap 28 is in full swing, and you're driving your heart out for the win. You hear the crackle of the radio in your ear, your race engineer giving you updates, but your focus is ahead. The track is slick from a recent shower, and the competition is fierce.

You see Ocon in the Alpine ahead, and you're pushing hard, determined to overtake into P5. Albon is close by in the Williams, equally determined to overtake your position as well. It's a dance of danger and skill, every movement calculated, every second crucial.

Then, it happens. In an instant, the world tilts on its axis. Ocon’s car clips yours, sending you into a spin. Everything slows down as the car flips and flips and flips, the ground and sky exchanging places repeatedly. Sky. Gravel. Sky. Gravel. Sky. Gravel. The violent motion is sickening, disorienting. You can hear the crunch of metal, the shatter of glass, and the scream of tires.

The barrier looms too quickly, and then you're crashing through it, the fence crumpling under the force. You're thrown into a building, the car smashing against the structure with a bone-rattling impact. The world goes black.

The pit lane erupts in chaos. Over the radio, a distressed voice calls for a red flag. The race comes to an abrupt halt, safety cars deployed immediately.

"Red flag, red flag. All drivers return to the pits. Safety car on track."

In the Mercedes garage, the engineers and mechanics freeze. George’s eyes widen in horror as he pulls into the pit lane, the scene replaying in his mind. Amaria is calling out for Y/N, but there is no response.

In the Ferrari garage, Lewis’s face pales as he listens to the radio, his heart sinking with every passing second. Charles Leclerc feels a cold dread in his chest. He can’t stop replaying the image of your car tumbling, the wreckage of what once was a powerful machine. His thoughts are a whirlwind, concern for you overpowering everything else.

"Who was it?" Lando Norris's voice crackles over the radio, fear palpable in his tone.

"It’s Y/N," someone replies. The pit falls silent, the gravity of the situation settling in.

Verstappen stares at the monitors, the usual competitive fire in his eyes extinguished by worry. His jaw clenches from frustration and helplessness. He knows the risks and accepts them, but it doesn’t make this any easier.

Oscar pulls into the pit, ripping his helmet off. "Is she okay?" he demands, but no one has answers. The tension is unbearable.

As the safety crews work frantically, cutting through the mangled metal to reach you, an eerie silence blankets the paddock. Minutes feel like hours. The world watches and waits, breaths held, hearts aching.

Lewis paces, unable to sit still. “Come on, Y/N. Be okay,” he mutters under his breath, his mind racing through the years of knowing you, racing alongside you. He can't lose a teammate, a friend, like this.

George sits in the car, head bowed, fingers clenched around the steering wheel. He blinks rapidly, fighting back tears. The sight of your crumpled car, the uncertainty of your fate, it's too much to bear.

Back in the Ferrari garage, Charles slumps against the wall, his mind is all over the place. He has enough scars from this circuit already, he can’t add more, he needs you to be okay. He was drifting back to the moments you shared. The camaraderie, the rivalry, the mutual respect. “She’s strong. She’ll pull through,” he whispers to himself, trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.

Oscar and Lando exchange glances, both young, both terrified. It’s a stark reminder of the dangers they face every time they get behind the wheel. Their usual banter is replaced with a solemn silence, each lost in their thoughts, prayers for your safety.

The medical team finally extracts you from the wreckage, carefully placing you on a stretcher. The sight of your limp body, the blood, it’s almost too much to bear. You’re airlifted to the nearest hospital, the severity of your injuries still unknown.

∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿

The air in the paddock is thick, filled with tension, anger, and worry. Max stands near the Red Bull garage, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning the sea of people for a familiar face. His voice, sharp and commanding, cuts through the chaos.

"Where is he? Where the fuck is Ocon?" Max's words echo with a mixture of anger and frustration, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri hear the yelling, their own frustration boiling over as they join Max's side. "Yeah, where is he?" Lando demands, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Doesn't he know how to drive? Look at the damage he caused out there, to Y/N."

Oscar nods in agreement, his expression mirroring their shared outrage. "It's fucking ridiculous," he adds, his voice rising with indignation. "He's a danger to everyone on the damn track."

As they push through the crowd, their eyes searching for any sign of Ocon, a commotion erupts from the direction of the Alpine garage. Lewis’s voice rises and echos through the pit lane, a voice of anger and frustration. George shouts joining him, a chorus of fury that pierces the chaos.

Max, Lando, and Oscar run to the garage, the yelling and commotion driving them forward. They reach the Alpine garage just as Lewis and George break free from the grasp of the engineers and mechanics, their eyes locked on Ocon with unbridled fury.

"Let me go! Let me go! I’m going to beat his fucking ass.” Lewis's voice reverberates through the paddock, his muscles straining against the hands that hold him back.

George's shouts match Lewis's, “You bloody fucking idiot.” he angrily says as he tries to grab Ocons’ shirt.

Lewis somehow manages to escape their grasp and lunges towards Ocon. Arm pulled back with a tight fist and powerful swing, he punches Ocon in the face, the force of the blow causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground.

The scene is chaotic, a whirlwind of shouting and struggling bodies as engineers and officials rush to intervene. Max, Lando, and Oscar push forward, their own anger fueling their desire to confront Ocon.

But before they can reach him, security arrives, their presence a barrier between the drivers and their target. Strong arms grab hold of Max, Lando, and Oscar, pulling them back as they struggle against the restraint.

"Let us go! You fucker! Come here! You’re a fucking piece of shit!" Max's voice is fierce, his eyes burning with intensity.

Lando and Oscar echo his sentiments, their shouts blending into a chorus of defiance. “You bitch, if she dies it’s on you! You hear me! You don’t deserve to be a driver! How could you be so fucking reckless?!” they say as they try to get to Ocon. But their efforts are in vain as security tightens their grip, guiding them away from the Alpine garage.

Ocon is escorted away, the tension in the paddock reaches a boiling point. The drivers are told to return to their garages, the promise of further confrontation hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

Lewis, George, Max, Lando, and Oscar exchange frustrated glances as they are escorted back to their garages, their desire and anger to get to Ocon are outweighed only by their shared worry for Y/N.

∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿

Hours pass in agonizing silence. The race, ultimately canceled. Updates on your condition are scarce, and the paddock is gripped with fear. Every beep of a phone, every whisper, sends a jolt through the waiting crowd.

Finally, news comes through. You’re in surgery, your condition is critical but stable. The relief is palpable, but the worry remains. It’s a waiting game now.

Lewis and George sit side by side in the hospital waiting room, their faces etched with worry. They care for you so much, your smile and energy lighting up any room you walk into. They’ve been through so much together, and the thought of losing you is unbearable. They talk in hushed tones, sharing stories about you, trying to keep the fear at bay.

Max arrives, his usual confident stride replaced with uncertainty. He offers a nod to Lewis and George, joining them in their vigil. There’s a silent understanding between them, a shared grief and hope.

Charles walks in, his face a mask of concern. He sits across from the others, his mind still replaying the crash. He remembers you on the stretcher, lying so still, and his heart aches.

Oscar and Lando arrive together, the youngest of the group, their faces pale and drawn. They sit quietly, their presence a testament to the bond forged on and off the track.

Hours stretch on, the waiting room is filled with an oppressive silence. The doctors come and go, their expressions guarded. Every minute feels like an eternity.

∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿

Amaria your race engineer enters, her face is grave but kind, understanding the emotional toll this night has taken on everyone.

“Hey,” she begins softly, “I know how much you care about Y/N and how difficult this is, but the nurses informed us that it’s past visiting hours. As much as we want to stay the hospital staff needs to do their work, and you need to rest. Her parents are on a flight here right now, they should be here by morning. The FIA decided we will have a meeting first thing in the morning to update you all on her condition.”

There are murmurs of protest, but they are weak, born more out of exhaustion and helplessness than actual defiance. The drivers know she’s right, but leaving feels like abandoning you.

Lewis stands first, setting the example. “We’ll be there bright and early,” he promises, his voice firm.

The others slowly rise, their reluctance palpable. As they file out, each offers a lingering glance back towards the surgical doors, hoping for the best.

Charles stops by Amaria. “Please, make sure we know the moment there’s any change,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Amaria nods. “I will. Try to get some rest. She’s in good hands.”

Charles nods, smiling weakly, “You too Amaria.”

∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿

The atmosphere is heavy as all the drivers sit in the room waiting for news on your condition. You can see the tiredness and weariness on their face. Even though they were told to get some rest it’s obvious none of them could.

Finally, Toto and Amaria walk in. “She’s out of surgery. She’s stable, but it’s going to be a long recovery.”

The room exhales as one. Relief floods in, but the road ahead is daunting. You’re strong, a fighter, and they all know you’ll pull through. But the scars, both physical and emotional, will take time to heal.

Lewis reaches out, squeezing George’s shoulder. “Thank you, Lord. She’s okay,” he says, more to himself than anyone else.

Max nods, his eyes brightening a little. “Yeah, she is.”

Charles leans back into his seat, his eyes closed, tears escaping as he says, “She's okay, she's really okay. She's alive.”

Oscar and Lando exchange a watery glance, a silent exchange of relief passing between them.

You're okay.

∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱⋰✾ ❁ ✿ ∴⋱ ✾ ❁ ✿

#ꨄ࿎victoria’s writings!࿎ꨄ #formula 1 x reader #vicki ♛ recs ⇢✍︎♥︎#formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 grid #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 one shot

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luveline · 15 hours

Note

Can I request a fic involving a reader with a skin picking disorder, please? I have one that started up around the same time as my anxiety disorder started ramping up, and now my arms are riddled with scars. I've been trying to break the habit for years now, sometimes I do good but sometimes I don't and I'm so self-conscious about it all.

thank you for requesting sweetheart!! fem, 1k

Eddie thinks there may be no better feeling than your hand in his as Eddie lays on your shoulder. You have this thing about your arms where they can get a little sore from picking, so you can’t always let him lean on them. Good thing he takes his super hot babe angel any way you’ll have him.

“Super what?” you ask.

“My super hot babe angel,” he says into the top of your shoulder, slouched in the dark, TV burning his eyes.

“I missed everything you just said,” you murmur apologetically.

Eddie forces himself to stop laying so heavily against your side and gives you some space. He’s worried he’ll elbow you as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I asked if you wanted to go to bed, super babe.”

“Is that what the rock stars are calling their girlfriends?” you ask.

“Just me.” He clambers off of the couch with a groan. His hair falls in his eyes and he’s too hot for the weather tonight. “I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

You’d already done yours. You usually get ready for bed in one process where Eddie drags it out all night; you’re in your pyjamas with spearmint on your tongue already, while Eddie’s groggy and overdressed two hours later.

You go separate ways for a few minutes, the bed squeaking as you drop yourself in it, while Eddie puts his hair up to wash his face and brush his teeth. He takes his shirt off when he’s done, his jeans next, kicked into a pile by the hamper and ready for tomorrow’s laundry.

“That’s forward,” you mumble, having made yourself comfortable with his worst pillow, the blanket pulled back on his side of the bed in wait for him.

He rushes into new pyjama pants, eager to slide into bed beside you, though the sheets are a bit much. You’re still in your long sleeve tee.

Eddie knows what you’re doing. Most summer nights you wait for him to fall asleep before you take off your shirt, too hot to suffer it but too afraid he’ll see your arms. He has, of course, seen them before. He loves them just as much as any part of you, even if you hate them.

And he wants to see them to know you aren’t going too far.

“Shirt off,” he says, fingers on your hip. “Come on, super babe. Too hot for that.”

“Eddie…”

“Take it off, sweetheart.”

He wouldn’t talk to you like that if he didn’t know you’d say no if you really couldn’t handle it; he’d never force you to show your insecurities, even if he’s seen them and loved on them before.

You don’t bother sitting up any more than you need to, peeling off your shirt and shucking it onto the floor, leaving you in your tank top. Lengths of your arms exposed.

He can see the worst of it quickly. You’ve picked yourself bloody at the crook of your elbow and the scar at your wrist is irritated. Your non-dominant arm takes the brunt of it every time, but besides those two cruel places, the rest of your skin is unharmed. Scarred in places, but healed.

“Look at that one,” he mumbles, taking your arm, his thumb close but not touching the wound. “Does that hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Let me get something. You need a dressing–”

“Eddie, please don’t.”

Eddie likes smiling. He can be pretty moody, but you bring out the best in him. Even when you’re hurting, he has a smile waiting for you, locked and loaded. He shifts in bed so he can lean over you, weight braces on his elbow, his face in his hand. “What’s worrying you so much?” he asks.

“Everything.”

“It’s tough.” He blows a breath at your eyelashes. Your eyes shutter closed. “Babe, it’s really tough, but you don’t have to hide it from me.”

“It’s weird.”

“It’s not weird, it’s sad. It’s not nice that you feel so worried you start hurting yourself, but it’s not weird.” He leans down to kiss your furrowed brow, but he doesn’t quite get there, nose smushed to your hairline. “You’re perfect.”

“M’not perfect.”

“Yes you are,” he says, cupping your face. His hand is gentle, his kiss less so. He hopes it emphasises his point.

“Your hair is really tickling me.”

“I can’t go anywhere, I’m sorry. I have to stay right here,” he says, hand trailing down your chest to weave between your arm and side, and then soundly under your back. He doesn’t want a ring or bracelet to snag on your sore arm. “Give me a hug, super babe. Please.”

You bring your arms up tentatively behind him.

“I just wanna know when you’re upset,” he says.

“Sorry. I don’t really think about it, I just do it.”

“I know, but… this stuff doesn’t bother me. You don’t have to wait for me to be sleeping before you take your shirt off, you have nothing to hide from me.”

“It’s so stupid.”

He hates the shame in your tone. “It’s not stupid. We need to find better ways for you to feel better, that’s all.” His cheek rubs against yours.

He can rebuke your worries all night, but he doesn’t need to. He shifts onto his side to let you hug his chest with more force, your face in his neck, the cold tip of your nose and your warm lips. “I wanna be pretty like you.”

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

You hum a yes.

“Even though I always have at least one zit, and all those weird stretch marks on my shoulders, and my hair’s frizzy every day?”

“None of that stuff matters,” you say, startled.

“Exactly. None of this stuff matters.” He finds your arm to feel down to the sore scab on your wrist. “I just need you to tell me about it more often. Okay? Deal?”

You breathe in the side of his neck. “Okay, handsome. Deal.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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noimnotmae · 1 day

Text

𝐌𝐈𝐗-𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐏 — Lando Norris⁴

summary: After landing in Miami for his race, Lando carelessly places his bag next to an identical one as he rushes to the bathroom. And in a hurry, you mistakenly grab his bag, thinking it's yours. And during the next five days in Miami, everything took an unexpected turn, escalating into something far bigger than either of you had anticipated.

˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷ lando norris x female! reader 🔸

Ｐａｒｔ５

ＰｒｅｖｉｏｕｓＰａｒｔ

[INSTAGRAM]

ynusername

liked by livduh, lhea_theitgirl, landonorris, mclaren and 4,832 others

ynusername it was nice seeing you, Lando and thank you for having us @/mclaren. And congrats again on your first win! . . . more

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lhea_theitgirl I can't count how many times we've "seen" him

ynusername more like you can't count in general

lhea_theitgirl you need to stop hanging out with liv

livduh I've raised her so well 🥺

livduh my brother thanks you for getting the gifts ❤️ by ynusername

ynusername tell him I said thanks as well, for the chance to watch the race

mclaren It was wonderful having you at our paddock. Hope we'll see you in many more races 😉 ❤️ by ynusername

ynusername Imola GP when @/lhea_theitgirl @/livduh ?

livduh we literally just watched one. slow down

lhea_theitgirl Italy does sound nice tho

user1 cute 🤗

user2 pretty 😫

landonorris it was nice seeing you at the paddock ❤️ by ynusername

ynusername I'll see you later?

landonorris as long as you don't have another drink with you then yes

ynusername 😢 ig this is goodbye

maxfewtrell hello airport girl 👋

landonorris DUDE

ynusername hello friend of Lando 👋

landonorris I can't ✋

the comments on this post have been limited

.ᐟ 🅾 landonorris started following you .ᐟ

[IRL]

— After the race, you and Lhea headed back to the hotel while Liv returned to her apartment after dropping you both off. It had been a long day, and all you wanted was to relax in the comfort of your bed. The rising tension on the internet about you was getting hard to ignore, and you'd been doing your best to stay off Twitter. Despite everything happening in your life, you still found ways to enjoy it and not let others deter you.

"Earth to YN." You blinked, realizing you were already in front of your hotel room. "Oh, right, the key." You unlocked the door and stepped inside, kicking off your sandals and immediately collapsing onto the bed. Lhea, unfazed by your dazed state, grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to you. "Here, hydrate." You accepted it with a grateful nod.

"So, you're basically famous now," she teased. You groaned at the reminder. "I don't even want to think about it," you sighed, setting the bottle aside.

"What's so bad about being famous?" she laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

"A lot. But mainly, it's how people invade your privacy," you explained, checking your phone and seeing thousands of Instagram notifications. People were commenting on old posts that you hadn't bothered to limit. You decided to let them be, knowing ignoring the chaos wouldn't make it disappear.

"Well, we're going home tomorrow. It'll die down soon," Lhea said, patting your back gently. Her sympathetic look quickly turned into a mischievous grin. "What about you and Mister Formula 1 Race Winner, Lando Norris?" You snickered, a smile forming at the mention of Lando. "What about him?"

"Don't play coy! When will you two meet again?" she pressed.

"Hopefully never," you joked with a shrug.

"Well, you should probably meet him now since we're leaving tomorrow," she suggested, her tone hinting at a plan.

"Why don't you go and get us something to eat?" Lhea said, grabbing your wrists and pulling you out of bed, steering you towards the door. You rolled your eyes at her obvious scheme but decided to play along. You slipped on your sandals and grabbed your spare key.

Lhea opened the door and gave you a gentle shove out. "Update me!" she called before closing the door behind you.

You scrolled through your phone while waiting for your order. Hotel food was nice, but it was starting to feel repetitive. When your order was called, you tucked your phone away and grabbed your food and drink from the counter. As you turned to leave, you nearly collided with someone. Luckily, they caught you with a gentle grip on your shoulders, preventing a spill.

"I'm so sorry—" you began, looking up to see the person who had saved your drink. It was him, the reason you had even went out despite your exhaustion. "Hi," you managed, offering an awkward smile.

"We can't keep meeting like this," he chuckled, releasing his hold on you. "I feel like my clothes are never safe when we meet." You laughed nervously, "I'm sorry, I was spacing out."

"It's alright," he assured.

A man squeezed between you, prompting an awkward shuffle to the side. "Uh, YN," he said, catching your attention. "Wanna hang out for a few minutes?" Lando's unexpected invitation caught you off guard, but you nodded eagerly. He motioned towards an empty seat by the window, and you followed him, feeling a rush of excitement.

As you settled into your seats, a waitress approached to take your order. "I'll just have an iced tea, thank you," you told her. Lando raised an eyebrow, "You're not eating?" You shook your head. "I already ate before you arrived," you explained. Lando nodded in understanding.

"Well, if you want, you can take some of my food," he offered with a warm smile. You returned the smile, appreciating his generosity.

After placing your order, the waitress left, leaving you and Lando alone at the table. "So, is this your go-to spot after celebrating a race?" you asked playfully. Lando chuckled, shaking his head. "No, usually it's the bar with a few friends, or I head straight back to where I'm staying and sleep."

"So, why a diner today?" you inquired, curious about his choice. Lando explained that a friend of his had been craving food from this place and asked him to pick some up. "Won't he be upset if his food takes too long?" you wondered. Lando shrugged. "He'll survive a few extra minutes without food," he replied, prompting a laugh from both of you.

As you chatted, time seemed to fly by. You shared laughs over embarrassing and interesting stories and bonded over shared interests. It felt comfortable and easy, unlike your previous encounters with the F1 driver.

"To think, accidentally taking my bag led to this," Lando remarked, a smile playing on his lips. You chuckled. "I'm pretty sure it was me spilling my drink on you that started it all," you countered. Lando shook his head. "Nah uh," he said, a brief silence before laughter took over.

"It's been really nice meeting you, YN," Lando said, his gaze sincere. Your cheeks flushed with warmth. "Y-yeah, it was nice meeting you too, Lando," you replied, feeling a sense of gratitude for the unexpected connection you had made.

And with that, the night went on with Lando spending his first race win celebration with you.

[TWITTER]

[INSTAGRAM]

viewed by livduh, lhea_theitgirl, landonorris and 6,829 others

lhea_theitgirl fill me in when u get back!

livduh suspicious

landonorris I had fun. Another hangout when???? 👀👀

user3 is that lando?

user4 cuteee

user5 Lando's hand? 🤨

[TEXTS]

[IRL]

You hurriedly slipped on your shoes and grabbed your essentials— wallet, spare key, and phone —before dashing out of the hotel room. "Lhea, make sure everything is packed, okay?" you called back to your friend, who nodded in acknowledgment as she watched you rush to the elevator. It was your last day in Miami, and you were eager to spend it hanging out with your newfound friend— and crush —Lando Norris. Though it was just a small crush, the many coincidental encounters with him had made it blossom into something more.

Arriving in the hotel lobby, you spotted Lando sitting and waiting for you. He stood up as you approached, stashing his phone away to greet you. As he walked over, he gave you a friendly side hug, which you gladly returned. "So, where should we go?" you asked, smiling up at him as you both pulled away. "I was thinking a classic movie date and then maybe we can try go Karting?" Lando suggested.

The word "date" caused a flutter of excitement in your stomach, but you quickly composed yourself and nodded. "Yep, that sounds nice. Can't remember the last time I went to the cinema with someone other than my girlfriends," you chuckled, trying to play it cool.

Lando let out a silent sigh of relief, grateful that you didn't seem to dwell on the word "date." He mentally scolded himself for slipping up. This was just a friendly hangout, nothing more.

"Shall we?" you prompted, nodding towards the door. Lando nodded in agreement, and you walked together, side by side, as you headed out for your movie hangout.

[INSTAGRAM]

viewed by livduh, lhea_theitgirl, maxfewtrell and 7,920 others

lhea_theitgirl tell him I want you back in one piece, thank you very much

livduh please stay alive. I'm praying for your safety rn 🙏

user6 "Did a Verstappen" 😭 I'm loving you already

user7 you guys are kinda cute tgthr

ynusername

liked by landonorris, livduh, lhea_theitgirl and 8,829 others

ynusername we'll hang out once we meet again, hopefully in a much better scenario than the usual . . . more

tagged landonorris

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livduh I wanna go Karting ☹️

ynusername next time babes 💋

lhea_theitgirl we're gonna miss you, Olives 😢

livduh I already miss you

ynusername ya'll being over dramatic, we'll literally meet in after two months

livduh THAT'S TOO LONG!

lhea_theitgirl exactly!

user8 this is so friends to lovers coded

user9 they're not dating?

user8 no not yet at least 😏

user10 omg, we can finally comment!

landonorris maybe next time you might finally win a race against me 😉

ynusername don't get cocky just because you're officially a race winner 😒

landonorris 😊

ynusername 🙄

user11 YN, my future favourite wag

ynusername what's a wag?

user11 😊 nothing you need to worry abt

ynusername curious

ynusername oh...

[IRL]

Lando insisted on dropping you off at the airport, and now it was finally time to leave Miami. You felt a pang of sadness, mostly because you wouldn't be able to spend more time with your new friend— crush. "Got everything?" he asked, as you checked your luggage one last time to make sure nothing was missing.

"Yep, all set," you confirmed, adjusting the strap on your bag.

"Please don't accidentally grab someone's bag again," he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, "No promises."

For a few moments, the two of you stood there in silence, neither wanting to say goodbye. Lando took a step forward and pulled you into a full hug. Surprised, you initially froze, but then you relaxed into the embrace, savoring the moment. He finally pulled away, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I'll see you in Imola, I hope," he said, his eyes searching yours.

You gave him a big, warm smile. "I hope so too. We'll keep in contact?"

Lando nodded. "We'll keep in contact," he reassured.

Turning away, you started walking into the terminal. Just before entering, you glanced back and waved a small goodbye, catching his smile one last time.

[INSTAGRAM]

ynusername

liked by livduh, lhea_theitgirl, landonorris and 9,739 others

ynusername sad that I'll be leaving my friends (new and old), but I am very grateful for the memories we made 😘 . . . more

tagged livduh and lhea_theitgirl

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livduh I feel like this isn't directed to me 🙁

ynusername you're delusional

livduh I'M delusional???

lhea_theitgirl leave her alone. she's coping

livduh whatever 🙄 becuz I'm such a good friend I'll let it slide

lhea_theitgirl we need a whole album for our pictures cuz my storage can't take it no more

ynusername 🤝 agreed

user12 if this trio was a girl group, Liv would be my bias

livduh you're now my favourite person in the entire world

lhea_theitgirl what happened to to me?

ynusername 🍵

user12 I love you three so much 😭

ynusername they're arguing in the gc (we love you too)

user12 what have I done 😂

ynusername this is great entertainment

user13 I need a yt channel about you three tbh

ynusername we had a yt channel when we were pretty young. should we give it another try? 🤔

user14 absolutely!

user15 that caption is definitely directed to a certain f1 driver

oscarpiastri 😏

ynusername OMFG HII OSCARR!

user16 not YN fangirling about Oscar 😭

user17 pastry what're you doin' here? 🤨

user18 was I tripping or did I see you at the airport?

ynusername 👀

landonorris I'll see you soon ❤️ by ynusername

Ｐａｒｔ６ — Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ

A/N : I think this is the longest part so far in the series. I really liked this one. Was listening to lana del ray and I was really in my feels while writing this one. Anyways, let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed this part.

taglist @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @barcelonaloverf1life @tangointhequango @bbl3ssy @mxdi0 @d3kstar @multifandomdiva @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @laneyspaulding19 @ilove-tswizzle @lillysbigwilly @lemon-lav @minkyungseokie @nichmeddar @chonkybonky @starz4me1 @harrysdimple05 @spanishcorndogs @musicheaux @butterflyqueen234 @ilivbullyingjeongin

If you want to be added to the taglist, just comment and I'll add you :)

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joeshiestyslover · 3 days

Text

fuck it i love you- c. sturniolo

pairing: fratboy!chris sturniolo x academicweapon!reader

summary: you and chris were on two completely opposite sides of the college spectrum. chris loves to party and hook up, and you love to stay in and do your homework. chris would never notice someone like you…right?

warnings: language, mentions of sex, angst, fluff, chris is lowkey an asshole at first but he gets better, reader is good at poker, some typos

masterlist

lowercase intended

you were never one for parties or large social gatherings in general. you are an introvert and very much a homebody, spending most of your time doing schoolwork or just lying in bed. because of this, you never made many friends as a child, and you especially never had a boyfriend.

chris was the complete opposite. chris loves parties and being around people. he can’t stand being in his house and doing nothing. since chris got to college, he spent most of his time at frat parties or hooking up with random girls. another thing about chris is that he’s never been the relationship type of guy. there was always an insane amount of girls that wanted him, but he never gave in, opting for random hookups.

you’re a sophomore in college and the only actual friend you’ve managed to make is your roommate, jasmine. she understood your introverted tendencies and respected them, but she was never afraid to urge you to get out of your comfort zone once in a while. right now, she’s trying to get you to attend a party that one of the school’s fraternities is throwing.

“come on y/n! it’ll be so fun!” jasmine begs. “i don’t like parties. i’d rather stay here and watch bridgerton.” you retort. “you’re always home and it worries me. you need actual human interaction. come on, please! i promise i won’t ask you to do anything like this again if you don’t have fun.” “i don’t know, jas.” you say skeptically. she gives you a look and you know she won’t give up until you go, so you give in. “fine.” you tell her with a roll of your eyes. she smiles and clasps her hands together. “yay! now let’s find you something to wear. i doubt you have anything, so you can borrow something of mine.” jasmine heads towards her closet and digs through until she pulls out a skintight light pink minidress. your jaw drops. “absolutely not.” “you’re wearing this y/n. it’s gonna look so good on you.” she walks over to you and throws it on your bed.

you pick it up and hold it against your body. “oh my god jas. my ass is gonna be on display!” you tell her. “don’t worry girl you have a great ass and you should show it off.” she winks. “okay the party starts in twenty minutes and we still have to get ready so come on.” jasmine leads you into the bathroom and does your hair and makeup first. she spends about half an hour on it before she finishes. you look at yourself in the mirror and gasp. “wow i look so good.” you smile at your reflection. “you’re welcome. now go get dressed.” you walk over to your bed where the dress lays and you quickly undress and throw it on, along with some clear wedges you had stuffed in the back of your closet.

jasmine finishes getting ready and she walks out of the bathroom. you both compliment each other’s looks before grabbing your purses and walking out of your dorm and towards jasmine’s car. you both get in and jasmine puts the car into drive, making her way towards the frat house.

once you both get to the party and you can hear the music thumping from outside the house. you can feel your palms begin to become sweaty and your heartbeat quicken. “jas i don’t know about this. what if something bad happens?” you ask nervously. “everything’s gonna be fine. i promise i’ll stick with you as long as you want me to, okay?” she reassures you. you slowly nod you head. you both then get out of the car and walk into the frat house. the moment you walk in, you can smell the strong scent of weed, alcohol, and sweat.

you look around and notice some people you know from your classes, all of them stoned, drunk, or both. your eyes continue to wander until you lock eyes with him. chris sturniolo. he’s easily the biggest asshole you’ve ever met. he was in your english lit class last semester and the only thing he did was show up late and extremely hungover. you can see his eyes trail down to your body and back up to your face. you roll your eyes and turn to jasmine. “we should get drinks.” you yell over the music. she nods and you both walk into the kitchen, where a vast array of drinks sit on the counter. you grab a beer out of the ice filled bucket where they sit, twist the cap off and take a drink. you look to your left and see jasmine flirting with some guy you’ve never seen before. after a few seconds, she turns to you and asks: “do you think it would be okay if i went with him? it’s totally okay if you’re not comfortable being by yourself. i’ll let him down and stay with you if you want.” you can’t help but smile at her. “it’s okay jas, i’ll be fine. i think i saw some guys playing poker and you know how much i love texas hold ‘em.” she grins and turns back to the guy and he leads her away.

you walk out of the kitchen and walk over to the table where a bunch of guys are sitting, dealing out cards. “y’all got room for one more?” you ask them. “you play?” one of the guys retorts. you nod. “yep. been playing since middle school.” “i guess we could deal you in.” he motions to one of the empty chairs. you sit as the dealer hand you the cards. you take a peek at the cards and see pocket aces. your face remains stoic as you look around at all the guys, trying to read their faces. everyone around the table checks, and so do you. the dealer puts down one card. about half of the guys fold, and a few of them raise, and of course, you match their bets. once again, everyone checks, and the dealer puts down the rest of the cards. you all then turn over all your cards, with you obviously winning. you smirk and gather all the chips to your side of the table.

before you can start the next round, chris walks over to the table. he claps one of the guys on the shoulders before his eyes find yours. he then walks up to you and you once again roll your eyes at him. “hey, what’s your name?” you ignore him and deal out the cards since it’s your turn. “c’mon don’t be like that.” he presses as he sits down next to you. you sigh and turn to him. “if i were you, i wouldn’t even bother learning my name, especially if you didn’t care to learn it last semester.” chris looks confused. “do i know you from somewhere?” you shrug. “wait,” he begins. “you’re that girl from english. the one that always asked a bunch of questions.” “guess so. do you mind? i’m in the middle of something.” you flip over the cards in front of you. “damn okay i see how it is. i’ll catch you later though.” he stands up out of the seat and you flash him a fake smile. “i hope not.” you mutter before he walks away.

you continue to play for a little while longer, surprisingly having fun. you had to admit, tonight is going a lot better than you thought it would. after winning most of the hands, you decide it’s time to head out, so you get up and say bye to the guys you were playing with. you wander through the crowd, trying to find jasmine, but she’s nowhere to be found. she must have gone home with the guy she left with earlier, so you pull out your phone and order an uber. your feet begin to ache and you spot an empty seat on a sofa, so you take a seat. you scroll on your phone for a bit before feeling the couch dip next to you. you look up and see chris sitting directly to your right. you immediately look back down at your phone, desperately wanting to avoid another conversation with him.

“you know it’s dangerous for a pretty girl like yourself to be alone at a party like this. you never know what kinda creep will try and take advantage of you.” he smirks. “i think i can handle myself, thanks.” you say back, avoiding eye contact. “hey, i’m just looking out for you, ma.” you finally turn to look at him. “don’t call me that.” “well, you never gave me your name, so…” he trails off. “you don’t need to know my name.” you say coldly. “why not?” chris tilts his head. “i don’t know what you think you’re doing, but i’m not gonna sleep with you so find another girl to bother.” you snap. before he can respond, your phone goes off, signaling that your uber arrived at the house. without a word, you stand up from the couch and walk towards the front door, leaving behind a very shocked chris.

once you got back to your dorm, you took off your makeup and changed into comfy clothes. the moment you lied down, you fell asleep, but couldn’t help but think about the brunette boy that managed to get under your skin so much.

a week later, you’re at the campus coffee shop, where you work. today isn’t a very busy day, just a few tired college kids in desperate need of coffee. you’re cleaning the tables near the back when you hear the bell ring, signifying that someone had walked into the shop. “welcome in.” you say out of habit. when you look up, your eyes meet chris’ blue ones. you walk behind the counter and plaster on the fakest smile you could muster. “what can i get you?” you ask, trying to get him out as fast as possible. “hey it’s you.” he smirks. “yes it’s me.” you roll your eyes. “what do you want?” “well, y/n,” he reads your name tag, “i would like a cappuccino and your number.” you scoff at his request. “absolutely not. i made it very clear at the party that i’m not interested in being one of your casual hookups.” “i promise i’d make it worth your while.” chris leans in closer to you. “okay buddy.” you say, unconvinced. “come on, y/n-” “not interested chris, either pay for your coffee or get out.” you tell him sternly. now, he rolls his eyes at you. “fine how much?” he pulls out his wallet. “$4.25.” he hands you a $5 and says: “keep the change.” you nod and begin making his drink.

once you finish making the cappuccino, you put the lid on it and hand it to him. “i’ll pull you one day, you know.” he smirks as he takes his drink. “in your dreams.” you retort. “i’ll see you around, ma.” chris yells as he walks out of the coffee shop. you continue the rest of your shift, still not being able to believe the audacity that boy has.

over the next few weeks, chris has been coming to your work, trying to get you to give him your number, and you shut him down every time. “come on, ma, i’m begging you, just one chance, please.” he all but begs you. “no chris, now go away i have customers to deal with.” you walk toward the register, taking a customer’s order. “what do you have to lose?” he questions. “my sanity.” you say putting in the person’s order. “what time do you get off?” “5:30. why?” you raise an eyebrow at his question. “i’ll pick you up and take you to dinner.” you laugh a little, “sure you will.” chris doesn’t say anything and walks out of the store.

sure enough, 5:30 rolls around and as you’re packing up your things in the back, you hear the bell ring. you walk out to the front and see chris at the door. you freeze. you really didn’t think chris would actually show up. “what the hell are you doing here?” you ask. “well, you get off at 5:30 right? i told you i’d pick you up.” he smiles, but it’s not a cocky smile or smirk, it’s a genuine smile. you let out a breath, knowing you can’t get out of it now. “one date. that’s it. you fuck up, you don’t get another chance.” you tell him sternly. he raises his hands in surrender. “i can be nice when i want, you know.” “uh huh, i’m sure. where are we going?” you both begin to walk out the door and chris holds it open, you mutter a small “thank you.” “where do you wanna go?” “ummm” you think, “how about mcdonald’s or something lowkey?” you suggest. “sounds perfect.” he replies, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you.

the car ride is relatively quiet, a few comments being made here and there, but it was mostly silent. however, it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was actually quite comfortable. you both get to the nearest mcdonald’s and order your food. it comes time to pay and you begin to pull out your card. “don’t you even dare, y/n.” chris says before you can even get your wallet out of your bag. “chris it’s really not that big of a deal.” you try to reason with him. “no y/n. i’m paying. a gentleman doesn’t make the girl pay, especially not on the first date.” he explains. “okay fine.” you relent.

the rest of the night went much smoother than you thought it would have. chris was a total gentleman and you genuinely had fun with him. at the end of the night, he drove you back to your dorm, but before you left, he asked you out on another date and you immediately said yes.

of course, you still have your reserves because of chris’ reputation around campus, but you wanted to give him a chance. you walk into your room, and see jasmine sitting on her bed. “and where have you been?” she asks. “i was out… on a date.” you say sheepishly. “a date?! with who?!” she becomes interested. “ummm i was with chris actually.” you look down at your shoes. “chris sturniolo? don’t you hate him?” she tilts her head in a confused manner. “i did, but he surprisingly isn’t that bad.” i smile at her slightly. “okay girl just be careful with him. make sure his intentions with you are good before you get too attached.” jasmine warns and you nod at her words. “of course, jas.” you walk over to your bathroom to take off your makeup and get ready for bed.

over the next couple of weeks, you and chris have been hanging out constantly. you actually enjoy his company, and he enjoys yours. you’ve managed to learn more and more about each other. you now know that chris loves hockey, he’s a triplet with his two brothers matt and nick, and he has a dog back home named trevor. all of this new information made him seem like more of an actual person to you and not some asshole you shared one class with for a single semester.

you’re currently getting ready for a party that chris had invited you to. this was the first time you would show up to a gathering like this as a ‘couple’, and you’re a little nervous. you don’t know how people would react because you being with chris is probably the most unexpected thing to happen on campus.

just as you’re putting on your shoes, chris texts you that he’s outside. you say goodbye to jas, and as you’re walking out the door you hear her yell: “be safe! text me if you need me!” you walk over to chris’ car and see him in the driver’s seat. once you open the door, he looks over at you and his jaw drops a little. “whoa. you look amazing, y/n.” you blush a little. “thanks chris.” he smiles at you and begins to drive towards the party.

you get there and can already see drunk students stumbling out the front door, something leaning over to throw up in the bushes. chris puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt. he then gets out and walks over to your side of the car, opening the door for you. he holds his hand out, and you take it. you stand up and before chris releases your hand, he leans down presses a light kiss to your knuckles. you giggle and begin to walk inside the party.

chris puts his hand on your waist and leads you over to the couch in the middle of the room. “i’m gonna grab us some drinks?” he yells over the music. “okay! i’ll be here!” you yell back, hoping he hears you. chris nods and turns to walk towards where you assume is the kitchen.

you wait for a few minutes, think it just takes a while to actually get to the drinks because of the large crowd of people in the house. you wait a little longer before deciding to go and find chris. you walk through the house and you can hear a group of male voices.

you turn the corner and see chris talking with his frat brothers, and you can’t help but listen in. “so how’s it going with that one girl you’re seeing, the smart one?” one of them asks. “her? there’s nothing going on with her. she’s just a hookup, nothing more. she means nothing to me.” he and his friends all laugh. you immediately lose your breath. you were so stupid to believe you actually meant something to chris. you should have listened to your gut, he’s just like all the rest.

you turn on your heels and walk out of the house, needing fresh air. the moment you walk outside, you break down, tears rolling down your cheeks one after another. you pull out your phone and call jasmine, knowing she’d come pick you up. the phone rings a few times before she answers, “hello?” “jas.” you say through your tears. “y/n? what’s wrong? what happened?” she immediately becomes worried. “can you come get me? i’ll explain everything to you later i just can’t be here any longer.” “of course. stay where you are, i’ll be there in a few.” you hang up the phone and look into the distance.

you then hear your name being called. you turn your head and see chris walking towards you. you look away, knowing that if you looked at him, you’d absolutely lose it. “y/n? are you okay? why’d you come out here?” he asks, completely unaware that you overheard his cruel words. “how could you chris?” he becomes confused now. “how could i what?” “do i really mean nothing to you? is getting into my pants the only thing you want from me?” you’re fighting the urge to sob. “of course not baby. who’s telling you that?” he steps closer to you and you step back, finally meeting his eyes. “you did! i heard you talking to your friends! about how i’m nothing but a hookup!” chris’ face drops. “baby no you got it all wrong. i didn’t mean any of those things i said.” “then why would you say it?! i can’t believe i trusted you! i really thought you were different, but you’re not! you’re just like all the other douchebags on this fucking campus!” you yell in his face. “y/n please i-” “save it.” you cut him off. you see jasmine’s car pull in out of the corner of your eye. “i never wanna see you again.” you tell him before walking to jasmine’s car and getting into the passenger’s seat. she swiftly pulls out and heads towards your dorm.

“what happened y/n? what’d he do to you?” she asks, worriedly. “i overheard him talking shit about me to his friends, about how i mean nothing to him.” you sniffle. “oh babe i’m so sorry. he’s such an asshole.” she reaches her right hand over to rub your back. “i should have known. i’m so fucking stupid.” you lean forwards and put your head in your hands. “no he’s stupid for not realizing what he had.” she reassures you. “i just wanna go home and go to bed.” you say. “of course, we’re almost there.” jasmine says as she continues driving.

once you get back home, you flop onto your bed, not bothering to take your makeup or clothes off. you just lie there and stare at the ceiling, thinking about chris. you thought about how sweet he could be, but it was all just a lie to get you into his bed. it’s bittersweet. you felt so humiliated, but you were glad you found out his true intentions before it was too late. you turn over and look at your phone. there are ten missed calls and about fifty text messages from chris. you shut your phone off, not wanting to deal with him right now.

the next few days, the world seems grey. you have almost no motivation to get out of bed. after a day or so, chris stopped texting you and calling you. you assumed he had given up, until he walked into your work holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a small teddy bear. you looked at him with sadness in your eyes, while chris’ eyes are filled with guilt and regret. “y/n,” he begins. “i’m so sorry for what i said. it was wrong and i promise i didn’t mean it. i just didn’t want them to shit on you for dating me. it’s okay if you don’t forgive me, but i just want you to know that i truly am sorry.” he hands you the flowers and bear. you take them hesitantly and say nothing. you nod and walk away, leaving chris behind looking broken.

chris fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you. not at the party, but the first day he walked into his english lit class. he quickly thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. he wanted to go up to you so bad, but based on the dirty glares you would shoot his way every time he walked into class late, he thought you wouldn’t be interested. when he saw you at the party, however, he couldn’t resist, he had to talk to you. he definitely expected you to turn him down, but he vowed that he wouldn’t give up until you agreed to go on at least one date with him. when you finally did, chris knew he was a goner. you were pretty, smart, and funny. you were perfect. the feelings that chris had for you scared him because he had never felt this way before. he didn’t know what to do. when his friends asked how you two were doing, he panicked. he knew you would get shit for dating him because you two are so different, so he told them you meant nothing, which was the furthest thing from the truth. however, he didn’t consider how those harsh words would affect you. the moment he walked outside and saw you crying, his heart broke. chris fucked up. badly. and he won’t stop until you know that he truly is sorry.

after your shift you go back to your dorm and set the teddy bear on your bed and put the flowers in a vase with water. suddenly, your phone dings, and it’s a text from chris: please let me explain what happened. i promise i’ll tell you everything. you stood there and thought about it before replying: meet me in front of the coffee shop in an hour. you shut your phone off and sit on your bed. you hold your head in your hands before you stand up to change into one of chris’ hoodies that you took and some sweats.

about 45 minutes go by before you’re grabbing your phone and keys and walking out of your dorm and towards the coffee shop. once you get there, you see chris standing outside. once he hears your footsteps, chris turns his head and watches you walk up to him. he smiles a bit seeing you in his hoodie, and his hopes raise just a little.

“y/n. hi.” he says nervously. you just nod at him, not knowing what to say. “look y/n, i know i fucked up. what i said was horrible and i can’t excuse that i just… you scare me.” your eyebrow raises “i scare you? why?” you question him, confused. “because you’re so perfect. you have your life together, you know what you want, and i’m just me.” he says desperately.” you’re still confused. “but that doesn’t make any sense.” chris sighs. “fuck it. y/n i’ve been in love with you for a long time, and i know i’ve never said that and maybe now isn’t the best time to tell you that, but it’s how i feel. i swear if you give me one more chance, i’ll do better. i’ll be better. just please let me prove it to you.” chris begs. you stand there, shifting your feet. you bite the inside of your cheek as you process what he just told you. “you love me? you aren’t just saying that?” you ask. chris steps towards you and cups your cheeks with his hands. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it’s honestly terrifying, but all i want is to be with you.” he looks into your eyes and you know he’s being honest. “chris.” you begin. “yes?” he asks, hopefully. “kiss me.” chris grins and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling into the kiss. you break away after a few seconds. “but if you ever pull some shit like this again, i’ll cut your dick off christopher.” he laughs out loud. “i wouldn’t expect anything less, ma.” he says before he leans down to kiss you once again.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo angst #christopher sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo

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kunikinnie · 2 days

Text

a/n: oddly specific prompt as it's based on recent experiences lol lemme indulge (also lowkey a mess but whatever HAHA) warning: some profanity

comforting you after a breakup (and you getting sick in the process)

featuring: Kunikida, Akutagawa x GN!Reader

Kunikida Doppo

He'd drop by your place more often that he should. But it's not that it was uncalled for (although of course he was worried that he was overstepping boundaries). In fact, you were always grateful for his help.

"How are you feeling?"

"A bit better," you'd reply with a weak smile. It was always like this every visit and for every other visit to come. He'd bring you some food, sometimes those which he cooked himself, your favorite snacks, and whatever it is you requested from his previous visit.

While you were glad you had a friend around to brighten up the place in your darkest moments, sometimes the guilt would get to you. Wasn't he spoiling you a bit too much?

Perhaps he was, but to him, this was hardly anything at all. Yes, he was doing it for you, but he was also doing all of these things to ease his own guilt and pain from seeing you like this.

He promised he would always be there for you. It shouldn't have been hard, given how loyal of a friend he was (and given how deeply he had fallen for you) , yet he'd failed at looking out for you when you needed him most.

Maybe if he'd acted sooner, you wouldn't have fallen for that bastard. Maybe if he'd tried a little harder, you wouldn't have to sacrifice so much for a man who would never have done the same for you. Maybe if he'd had been more honest, you would've realized that you were loved - so greatly loved, really - even if that came from a person so unworthy such as himself.

The moment he found out your bouts of illness weren't just unlucky coincidences was the moment everything crashed down for him. There was nothing more painful for him than seeing you in pain, whether it be emotionally or physically. That's why he couldn't take it anymore when everything started going downhill for your health and your relationship.

He's glad that at least the initiative to break up with that scoundrel came from you. However, the temptation to strangle him if Kunikida ever bumped into him always lingered in his mind. Perhaps it was fate that spared both of them the headache; he never ran into him since you two broke up.

How could your ex waste your love and affection like that? Why did he leave you hanging in the air when you needed him most? Why did you have to fall for him anyway?

Of course he didn't want to think of himself as being the better choice as he also has his own weaknesses and issues to work out, but at least Kunikida knew he'd never let you second-guess or tire yourself to death.

He'd never force you to fit his ideal because he's learned to love you for the person you are.

"Thanks so much for all this."

Your smiles alone made all his worries vanish into thin air. Didn't you notice how much brighter they are now? It's the only reward he could ever ask for, even if sooner or later those very smiles would be reserved for someone else.

"I'll come again tomorrow. Just let me know if you need anything."

"Nah, it's fine. Your presence is more than enough."

Words couldn't encapsulate the joy he felt from hearing that. If only he could return those same words with the same level of honesty...

"Aww, he's happy to hear that."

W-was it really that obvious? Then did you also notice-

"Okay, okay I'll stop teasing you. You should go home now, it's late."

"I'll be fine. You should be fine too. Don't forget your meds. Also you can heat up the-"

"Yes, yes, I got it. Don't worry about me too much. I think you should be worrying about Dazai-san's latest case instead-"

Ah, right. Sometimes he wished that his partner would at least spare him half the trouble so that he could visit you more often...

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

He couldn't understand anything of what was happening to you, and to some extent, to himself as well.

He was aware he had no idea nor any intention as to knowing what "love," let alone being in a relationship meant. So when he learned that you had been dating someone else, he had been largely unaffected.

Well, at least that was what he said. It was obvious to anyone close to him that he was, in fact, extremely affected. The mere mention of your name was enough to shake him and sometimes even sour his mood.

But if this so-called "love" was the reason your smiles seemed to be brighter, then he had no right to feel the way he did.

As time passed, he distanced himself from the very thought of you. There was no point in dwelling on something that causes you pain, he claimed. Sure, sometimes you'd bump into each other and he'd feel lighter when you greet each other, and maybe he'd look out for you during missions as he always did, but they were just out of duty as your superior.

Yet the moment he found you one night crying in the middle of the rain, his resolution had been all but forgotten.

He used Rashoumon as an umbrella for the both of you before (awkwardly) asking what had happened. You suddenly hugged him tightly, despite being drenched from the rain, and continued to sob into his shirt.

"I guess he has no place for someone weak like me," you barely managed to say.

That statement puzzled him. You? But you were one of the most capable members the mafia, not just in terms of power and agility, but also in intelligence and strength of character.

It was not until he finally brought you to the hospital (because of course you got a fever from crying in the rain, dumbass) that everything was made clear.

You were diagnosed with a rare disease that had no treatment. Turns out you found a few days ago and were about to tell your partner that night, until he left you (literally) stranded in the middle of the rain for no good reason. He must have been tired of dealing with your symptoms - that was your conclusion.

"And still you refused to seek shelter like the idiot that you are," he said with great annoyance, but with no harshness in his tone. He could understand where you're coming from, of course, but compromising your health as if you were seeking death over something like that irritated him.

But what angered him more was your ex's (he supposed he was already your ex) behavior. To someone like Akutagawa who didn't even claim to truly know what "love" meant, it was disgusting to see someone abandon their lover like that. Worst part was that had to be you.

You having an illness, terminal or not, was not an excuse. If anything, that should have made him more determined to be by your side until the very end, right?

He hadn't realized you had already drifted to sleep. Despite your pale and reddened face and your puffy tear-streaked eyes, seeing you at peace for even just a moment brought him some peace of mind as well.

He was caught in a flurry of thoughts, ranging from wanting to choke your ex to coming to terms with the idea that he himself had fallen in love with you, and even to wishing that he could take your illness instead.

None of those really mattered right now, at least. The one thing that was clear was that you had to recover quickly and fully. If that meant he had to distance himself even further, then so be it. But if him being around would help in any way at all, then he'd swear to never leave your side and nothing - I mean nothing - can deter him from that.

taglist: @stygianoir, @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee, @menshusband, @celestair, @bloobewy, @renaxnnas, @kunikida-simp

#bsd #kunikida doppo #akutagawa ryunosuke #bsd x reader #kunikida x reader #akutagawa x reader #kunikida x you #akutagawa x you

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propertyofkylar · 16 hours

Note

Happy early birthday!!!

Worship with Whitney

Preferably no smut, I just want him to tell me that I’m actually beautiful or something.

FIRST PROMPT EVENT POST LET'S GO

pairing: m!whitney x gn!reader

word count: 577

cw: just some canon-compliant name-calling, a little bit of possessiveness

it was hard to do worship with no smut but i did my best <3

“What’s wrong?”

Whitney’s eyes narrowed as he studied your face closely. It came as a surprise to you - you usually were very good at hiding your feelings, and frankly thought that at this moment nothing could have possibly seemed off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, hoping your boyfriend wouldn’t care enough about your feelings to push the topic.

You were wrong.

Whitney tapped ash from his cigarette. “You’re lying,” he said simply before motioning to you with his free arm. “C’mere. You’re not fun when you’re all mopey and it’s pissing me off.”

You took a step closer and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you tight. “Now you’re gonna tell me what’s wrong or else I’m putting this out on you,” he waved the cigarette in your face.

Chewing on your lip, you looked away from Whitney as you tried to figure out what to say. “I don’t know,” you said and as soon as you did, your eyes began welling up with tears. Emotions flooded your entire being and you looked at the ground. How could you even begin? The debt. The stress. The constant attacks. Literally everything that’s going on in your life. It’s all just too much.

Whitney sighed and flicked his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with his toe. “Listen, slut,” he began, and you instinctively looked at him. He had a serious look on his face. “If anyone tries to fuck with you, you bring ‘em to me. Alright?”

You blinked. You weren’t expecting that. “…huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “I know everyone wants a piece of my slut. It’s really fucking annoying, actually. And these dumb fucks talk. A lot. And I hear what they say. And…” Whitney let out a sigh, as if what he was about to say was incredibly taxing to him. “You shouldn’t listen to them.”

You, again, were speechless. “What?” You said after a moment. Whitney shook his head before taking your chin in his hand. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I hear those cunts talking about what they want to do to you. Calling you stupid and ugly. They’re fucking stupid, because obviously that’s not true. Not only are you way too pretty for those fuckers, they’re forgetting one important thing,” Whitney squeezed your face before dropping his hand. “You’re my slut.”

“Oh,” you felt very warm inside all of the sudden. It made you smile. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Whitney said as he lit up another cigarette. “Seriously. I don’t want word getting out.” He hesitated for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and the two of you stood in silence for a few moments. Then a thought occurred to you that made you grin uncontrollably. Whitney quickly took notice and looked annoyed. “Fuck, what is it now? I can’t keep up with your mood changes.”

You tried to repress it but the smile only grew. “You called me pretty.”

Whitney kept looking annoyed, but you noticed a blush creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah. Whatever. Am I gonna lie? No. It’s a fact that you’re beautiful.” His expression was unpleasant as he looked away.

“But—” you started, though you were quickly cut off.

“Fuck off,” he said simply. “Or else I’ll give you something to really cry about.”

You smiled at the cliche line and settled back into comfortable silence with Whitney.

#dol #degrees of lewdity #whitney the bully #whitney x reader #dol fanfic #writing #prompt event #YAYAYAYAYYAy

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gatheringbones · 23 hours

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[“G: Why did you get pregnant?

M: To prove to myself that I was a woman.

G: And then how did you feel about it?

M: I had been doing a lot of self-destructive things since I was thirteen - I dove into heterosexuality and I did it angrily and was contemptuous of any man I ever fucked. I somehow thought that fucking them would get back at them for everything, and somehow I thought that debasing myself would do something. So I got pregnant, which was very heavy 'cause at the time I thought I wanted to have kids. I really believed that there was a living person in me - my whole body was freaking out. They say you can't feel it, but I felt that energy, and I knew there was something alive in me - even if it was not more than a lump of cells, I thought it was still something alive - it was something that I was going to stop from being alive, but I figured I would rather do that. First of all I knew if I had a boy I'd drown it, and even if it was a girl I knew it had 23 genes I hated - and I didn't know who had made me pregnant. All of my hostility came to the surface - I was blind with fury and it all came out. I couldn't sit in the same room with one without wanting to murder him, literally. I couldn't listen to male music, I couldn't read male poetry. Lots of great male artists who had always been a great comfort to me I just couldn't... no male... I couldn't deal with any male, I hated them. After I calmed down about that it became very clear to me that I loved women, and I always had loved women, and that I had never had good relationships with men. I had always had good relationships with women. I had never been attracted to men, I had always been attracted to women, and I realized that I was just going to have to get used to the fact that I was a lesbian.

G: You had an abortion then?

M: Yes. I had two abortions... that was the first one. I dropped out of school and plunged right into feminism. It was obvious to me even at the time that the main reason I was there was because I wanted to come out. I wanted to come out so bad - I just wanted to do it and get it over with, you know, and just be comfortable in my identity as a lesbian. I had been avoiding the women's movement for years because I didn't want people to think that I was the old dyke who couldn't get a man. I wasn't able to become a feminist until I realized that I didn't give a shit if I was an ugly old dyke who couldn't get a man. I didn't want a man anyway. So I became active in the women's movement, and I met lesbians for the first time in my life. It was scary because even though I knew I was one I had never met a real one.

G: Were you saying you were a lesbian at that time?

M: Oh yeah, I had been saying that I was a lesbian for years before that. I can remember saying to a friend a couple of years before, when I was fucking all these men, "You know, I'll bet I'm a lesbian, because people with case histories like mine always turn out... if I didn't know me and I heard my case history I would be convinced that was a lesbian." And she said, "Oh, don't worry, you're not a lesbian." She tried to reassure me, but I knew. I just didn't want to deal with it; it was scary being a lesbian. Particularly since being a woman was so important in my family. So I became involved in the women's movement full-time. Then I needed money - so I got a job as a waitress. I was working nights and sleeping during the day and I didn't have any time for the women's movement. The only people I was hanging out with were the people I worked with. All of a sudden, since I didn't give a shit about men, I was really attractive to them. I'd never been attractive to them before, but all of a sudden I was fascinating - I guess every man want to fuck a dyke, you know, to prove they're a real man. So they started following me home. I was horny and I didn't have any lesbians knocking at my door, and I knew how to manipulate men, so I figured fuck it, I'll give them one more chance - so I started fucking a couple of guys. I told them, "Look, I hate men. I'm a lesbian, I haven't come out yet, but I promise you I'm a lesbian." So I fucked them. And at that time I had an IUD which I had gotten after my first abortion, which they had promised me would be very effective. I got pregnant again, six months after my first abortion. My second abortion was really nice. I went to a really nice clinic and it was very clear to me, never again, never again. It's over. There was a really nice woman who was my counselor and I was awake for the abortion. She was holding my hand and while the fetus was being taken out of my body I was holding her hand saying to her, "Never again," and she said, "Oh, you're going to come out?" I said, "Oh, yes," and she said, "Far out," and she called across the room to another woman who was a counselor, and said, "Hey, this woman's coming out." It was so nice, so supportive, she's holding my hand, a woman, and I was telling her that I was a lesbian. She was telling me that that was great, and they were taking that goddamn thing out of my uterus. It was almost worth being pregnant, it was such a nice abortion. I was so into her that I didn't feel any pain, it was annoying, but all of a sudden it was over. It was really nice.”]

The New Lesbians, edited by Laurel Galana and Gina Covina, moon books, 1977

#gina covina #Laurel Galana #lesbian literature #terra preta

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acryingpisces · 2 days

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ARMS OF COMFORT

PAIRING: john b x gf!reader

WARNINGS: anxiety attack, cursing, making out

»»———–➤

You hated this feeling. When the anxious thoughts kick in and the room starts to spin. You’d do anything to silence the negative voices in your head. You want nothing more than to keep your head above water and prevent yourself from going to that all too familiar, dark place in the corner of your mind.

John B had never seen you like this. In the 4 months you’d been dating you had managed to keep up the ‘miss perfect’ act. As far as he was concerned, you were his dream girlfriend. He had no clue what a mess you could be. Were you willing to drop the mask? To show him another side of you?

It seemed too vulnerable to let John B know what you were going through. You rolled over in bed, facing away from him, using a pillow to muffle your cries. You silently sobbed into it while your unaware boyfriend snored softly next to you.

After a good 3 minutes of crying, the sound of a whisper made you freeze in place and immediately stop your tears.

“Baby?”

Fuck. You were caught. He had heard you. Your heart began to race at the thought of turning to face John B with a tear soaked face. How would you explain it?

“Are y- are you crying? Y/n, look at me.”

Fear had turned you to stone, and you found it impossible to move despite your boyfriend’s request.

John B placed a gentle hand on your back, nudging you to turn around. Somehow you worked up the courage to actually face him. You rolled over. Immediately you noticed an expression of intense worry on his face as he took notice of your red and puffy eyes.

“No, no, no- baby come here. What happened? Hey, you’re alright okay? I’ve got you.”

He wrapped you in his strong arms and laid your head on his bare chest. You could hear the beat of his heart. His woodsy masculine scent, the warmth of his body heat, and his sweet words provided you with a sense of calm. As he rocked you back and forth you felt your anxiety slowly wash away.

“Deep breaths y/n. Breathe in and out with me. Can you do that?”

You matched the pace of his breathing.

“Good job, you’re doing so good for me y/n.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you managed to choke out through your tears.

“Shhh don’t say that,” he shushed you. “Don’t ever be afraid or feel like you have to hide from me. I’m here for you,” John B cooed.

He could tell you weren’t in the right state of mind to do much talking. “You don’t have to say anything. We can talk about what’s going on later. For now just let me hold you.”

You couldn’t help yourself. Overwhelmed with emotion and adoration for your boyfriend you found yourself pressing your lips to his. It turned from a soft kiss to a passionate one pretty quickly. Your hands gripped his hair as he began sucking on your bottom lip. Your tongues danced together as you softly moaned into his mouth. When you finally pulled away to catch your breath you found yourself staring deep into his eyes. You had never told him you loved him before, but now felt like the right moment.

“I love you, John B.”

“I love you more, y/n. God, I love you so much. Everything’s going to be okay.”

He had seen you at your worst and he still loved you. There was no more reason to be afraid. You finally felt as though you could relax. He later went to the kitchen to bring you your favorite snacks and you spent the rest of the night holding each other close as possible, watching movies on the television. You fell asleep to the sound of the TV and the rise and fall of your boyfriend’s chest as he breathed.

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mysticwolfshadows · 2 days

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Taken - Zutara - Part 27

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Sokka raged at her for nearly an hour for her recklessness when they finally got back to their room. Zuko seethed, glaring and huffing, while Aang tried to calm them down. Katara really wasn't sorry. They got everything they wanted.

"But they're still going to kill Zhao," Aang whined.

"Zhao is a fool," Zuko countered. "If he had succeeded, the world would have suffered. Fire Nation included."

Katara nodded. "Now, are you coming with us or do we need to drop you off with Uncle?"

He blinked. "I... I thought I was coming with you...?"

"You probably know the Earth Kingdom better than we do," Sokka sighed. "So it would be helpful. Aang, do you know where we're going?"

"Omashu. I want Bumi to be my earthbending master."

Zuko blinked. "Oh. Yeah, no. I don't... You can't go to Omashu. The city was taken a few weeks ago. They're calling it New Ozai."

"What?!" Aang stared, horrified. "No! You have to be lying! What happened to Bumi?!"

Zuko looked at Aang, frowning. "If you're talking about King Bumi, he willingly surrendered. As far as I know, he's being held prisoner in the city. But it's too dangerous to go there. We'll need to figure something else out."

"But Bumi is the best earthbender there is! He has to teach me!"

Zuko frowned. "I haven't seen this Bumi, but I have seen others. In Gao Ling, my crew found this... underground earthbending tournament. There was this girl there, going by 'the Blind Bandit'. They say she's blind, but she's the champion. They say she's one of the best earthbenders in existence. I only saw her briefly, when I was dragging my crew out, but I would believe it."

"Thats pretty far," Katara muses. "Farthar than Omashu at least. It will take a few weeks just to make it that far. Even with Appa."

"Then we should get moving."

Aang was silent as they finished packing, clearly having trouble processing what happened to his friend. They needed to leave quickly, though. Katara wasn't even going to worry about getting extra bedrolls. They had a spare Zuko could use anyway.

Aang went to tell Chief Arnook they were taking off sooner than expected, while Katara went to tell the soldiers the news. There were afraid of going to the south, but Zuko was able to convince them it was for the best. The Southern Tribe was good to their Fire Nation friends. As long as they did their best to help, Katara's mother and grandmother would make sure they lived comfortably.

As Katara and Zuko went to Appa, they found Yue standing awkwardly with Sokka. The white haired princess turned, and came up to Katara.

"I have something for you," Yue said, holding out a glass vial pendent. "Its water, from the oasis. After centuries of Tui and La living there, the water has been embued with special healing properties." She paused, looking at the vial. "I don't want to think that anything would happen to any of you, but..."

Nodding, Katara took the vial. "I understand. Thank you, Yue."

The princess bowed, and Katara returned it. Then, she and Zuko joined Sokka on Appa. Her brother was slouched, clearly upset, but she didn't know what to say. So she sat with Zuko, pulling out their map to discuss where to go first, while waiting for Aang. She pointed out Jeong Jeong's camp, which Zuko apparently hadn't known about. There was a chance it was gone, since Zhao had been bragging about some kind of recent win. Zuko hadn't really been paying attention, since he didn't care about Zhao's grand standing.

Neither of them really had to worry about that now, though.

Aang came back looking haunted. Apparently, they had been announcing Zhao's crimes to the tribe, along with his punishment. The Admiral had been shouting and screaming, but not for his life. Till the end, even as they dragged him away, Zhao seethed anger and hatred.

"Spiritually isn't practiced as much in the Fire Nation anymore," Zuko said, as they took off. "But Agni, the sun spirit... Supposedly, Agni watches us and when we die, decides where we go based on if we brought glory to the Fire Nation? I never really understood. But if thats right, I know Agni would agree that his end was deserved."

"How can you say that?" Aang hissed, hands tight on the reins. "He's your countryman. Was..."

Katara reached a hand put, placing it on Aang's shoulder. "The individual nations have the right to serve justice when someone breaks their laws. You gave your point of view, and thats what matters. Its good that you didn't try to force them to follow your rules."

Aang slouched, defeated. "I just don't think its right for someone to decide another has to die..."

Katara glanced at Sokka and Zuko. Both were looking as nervous as she felt. She, Sokka, and Zuko all knew Ozai had to 'go down', as they had been saying. Did Aang not realize that likely meant killing the man?

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#fanfic #zuko #zutara #wip #katara #avatar the last airbender #fanfic idea #atla

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thetravelerwrites · 3 days

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Yew (Part 2)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Male Centaur/Male Centaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Centaurs, MLM, Sex Content Warnings: Amputee, Amputated Leg, Prosthetics Series: Part 12 of Monster Lovers: Shelter Forest Words: 4,911

Yew finally gets his own fic! Yew makes his very first rescue: a surly centaur dumped on the side of the road. Please reblog and leave feedback!

It took more than two months for Ethari to even attempt moving around for longer than a few seconds. The trip to the latrine had caused his fever to spike quite high again, so he was largely immobile for another week afterward. A modified pan was created for his use, which made things a little easier, but he grumbled sourly about it. Ethari’s stump was closed up and the stitches removed, but he was instructed not to do anything that would reopen the wound. After months of healing, however, he was finally in a place where he didn’t feel like pounded garbage, though he was still weak and shaky.

Ethari was still mistrustful of the entire situation. He didn’t believe they were helping him for no other reason than they wanted to help; in his experience, everything came with a price. He made an effort to not be aggressive or hostile, but everything about this place got his hackles up. He was just so ready for the other hoof to drop that he felt like he couldn’t relax. He would have been more comfortable if they had been demanding compensation for feeding and housing him; that would have made sense to him. The freedom with which they doled out care and attention seemed impossible, even suspicious.

Yew did a lot to shake Ethari’s faith in the idea that nothing comes for free. He was always chipper and bright, like a lighthouse, and just as any such beacon would, he drew Ethari’s eye when he was nearby. He was always there to help when Ethari needed to get up and move around to prevent his remaining legs from atrophying, by using his own body as support. Yew even brought fresh winter flowers every day to decorate Ethari’s relatively bare stall. It seemed he favored snow-drops, since he always sprinkled them into each bouquet. He always found a way to wrangle beer from Birch, who still didn’t like Ethari, and brought him treats from the winter larder. His persistent cheeriness made Ethari feel more dour in comparison.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Ethari asked him one morning.

“Doing what?” Yew asked, his curious puppy tone in place. Yew was removing the last of the bandages after having brought him apple jam and wheat crackers with his beer and flowers… just because, it seemed.

“This,” Ethari replied, waving at the scene.

Yew laughed. “Because you’re cute, I like you.”

Ethari blinked and his head rocked back. “Excuse me?”

“I like you,” Yew said, meeting his eye and smiling. “I think you’re cute.”

“Wha… who… cute how?” Ethari asked, flabbergasted. “What about me is cute? I’m grumpy and sour.”

“I think that’s cute,” He said, tilting his head. “Am I not allowed to think it’s cute?”

“I guess you are, but it makes you a weirdo,” Ethari snipped.

Yew laughed a bit more: a tinkling, bell-like sound. “I’m alright with that. Does me thinking you’re cute bother you?”

“Well… no…” Ethari said slowly. “I guess not. You’re… do you…”

“Like men?” Yew asked with a grin. “Yep. And you, apparently, are just my type. Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are by the realization.”

Ethari didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing.

“Would it bother you that I like you?” Yew asked with the same cheeky grin, though there was a hint of apprehension.

Ethari gulped. “...no.”

Ethari was only a year or two older than Yew, and though he had a passing crushes on one or two of the others at the ranch, building relationships there, friendships even, were heavily discouraged on threat of punishment, so he had never acted on it nor attempted to make friends or lovers. Now that he was off the ranch…

“Cetzu is coming back with your prosthesis,” Yew told him. “He sent us a letter saying that should be here tomorrow, barring any unforeseen circumstances. He’s only fitting you with the prosthetic tomorrow, so you won’t be using it right away. Mama will let you know when you can start using it.”

“Fine,” Ethari replied, moving the stump a little to ease the tense muscles.

“Mama gave me a salve for you, too,” Yew said, pointing at a jar next to the jam and crackers. “You’ll need it for the muscle aches and the flashes of pain. Do you think you’re able to put it on by yourself?”

“I’ll do fine,” Ethari insisted. “You’re awful fond of that mama of yours.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yew said with a chuckle. “She’s my mama.”

“She’s not even your real mother.”

“Yes, she is,” Yew said, his tone suddenly cold, and it was the first time Ethari saw a flash of anger in Yew’s eyes directed at him. “And you don’t get to say otherwise. Nobody does.”

“Alright, alright,” Ethari said, taken aback. “Sorry, damn. I’m just saying, you’ve got all that love for a human, but what about your birth mother?”

“I don’t know who she is. Or my birth father, for that matter. Never met ‘em.”

“What do you mean? How do you not know the person who gave birth to you?”

“The ranch where I came from practiced forced breeding. My birth mother gave birth to me against her will. We were taken away from our mothers at birth and raised in isolation by the ranch hands, to discourage us from forming bonds with the other centaurs. The only one I was ever close to was Birch, and that was only because he was the one in the stall next to mine. Once I was given a stall, that is. The ‘nursery’ they kept us in was basically a closet”

“Gods,” Ethari breathed, blinking. “Is that place here? In this country?”

“No, it’s on the big continent up north. We swam here to get away.”

“Good on you for that,” Ethari said. “Gods. I can’t imagine not having my mother there. It was the one thing that made that place bearable.”

“How did she die? Was she worked to death?”

Ethari frowned in horror. “Was that common on your ranch?”

“Oh, yeah, happened all the time.”

“My word. No, no, she was ill for a while before her death.” Ethari squinted suspiciously at Yew. “How are you so damned cheery, after all that? That would break the spirit of most people.”

Yew shrugged. “I was only seven when we escaped, so maybe I wasn’t fully broken yet. In any case, no matter what happened back then, it’s back then. It doesn’t matter to me now. I’m happy now. I love the farm, even though the work is similar to the ranch. It’s hard work, but it doesn’t feel bad to do it like it did on the ranch. I even enjoy it. The food that I plant and pull up nourishes my family and keeps them well and happy, and that makes me happy in turn. It’s hard to be sad in this place. It’s like heaven to me. I never, ever want to leave here.”

Ethari was quiet for a moment, contemplative.

“Do you think I could be like that?” He asked suddenly.

“Like what?”

“Like you. Happy. I don’t even know what that feels like. I don’t know if I’m capable of it.”

Yew laughed incredulously. “Sure you are, everyone is. It’s just a matter of finding something that makes you happy. For me, it’s this place. My siblings must feel the same way, too, since many of them have decided to stay, even after marrying and having children. This place is a balm for the soul. What’s that thing in the desert where there’s water? O…oasis? It’s like that.”

“Could it be like that for me?” Ethari wondered, mainly to himself.

“Time will tell, I suppose.” Yew stood from his kneeling position and made to leave. “But I certainly hope so. Now eat your jam, you need your energy.”

“Sure, sure,” Ethari said, waving him off.

Cetzu did, indeed, arrive the next day, meeting Ethari in his stall with a wooden leg he had carved. There were straps and cloth padding added to the attachment, but it still looked like it would be very uncomfortable. Getting used to it would be a chore, he could already tell.

“Do you think I’ll be able to run?” Ethari asked quietly. “I’ve always been hitched to equipment or sequestered in stalls. I’ve never been able to go on a full run before. I’ve always wanted to.”

“I don’t know,” Cetzu said with sympathy. “But you should at least be able to walk with no issues in time. You’ll need a lot of therapy in order to do so, however. A practice buddy will help you. Yew would be perfect for that, he helps a lot of the larger folks get back on their feet when we have to nurse them back to health. He’s pretty well known around here for it.”

“It would be Yew, wouldn’t it?” Ethari said snidely, though he wasn’t unhappy with the thought, much to his own surprise.

“Could be worse,” Cetzu said. “Besides, it’s gonna be a slow process. You have to get used to using it gradually. He’s the best for that kind of thing. He’s quite patient.”

Which meant he’d be spending a lot of time with Yew, Ethari realized, and he felt… relieved and apprehensive at the same time. He was starting to get used to Yew’s upbeat attitude and bright disposition, but he wasn’t sure if Yew would be able to stand him for that long. Sure, he said he thought Ethari’s grumpiness was cute, but even he knew it could wear thin after a while. Hell, he got sick of himself pretty often.

“Can you stand on your own?” Cetzu asked.

Ethari shook his head.

“One moment,” Cetzu said, standing and exiting the stall.. “Yew!”

Yew trotted up and peeked in. It seemed like he was always closeby “Yes?”

“I need to get this fellow up to make sure the new leg is the right length. Can you help him?”

“Oh, certainly. Up you get, Ethari.”

Ethari made a grunting effort and, with the help of Yew and Cetzu, managed to stand up, feeling terribly off balance. Cetzu quickly strapped the new leg to the stump and encouraged Ethari to put his weight on it gingerly, just to see if it was the adequate length. Satisfied, Cetzu encouraged Ethari to walk around his room briefly, just to see if it functioned well. It was painful and uncomfortable, as Ethari predicted, but not in a way that couldn’t be adapted to.

There was a slight drag that Cetzu said he could correct, no problem. Satisfied, Cetzu took the leg for some fine tuning and finishing adjustments, and left Ethari to rest. Yew was about to close the door to the stall when he was called by a feminine voice from the door.

“Hey Sunflower, one of the irrigation pipes is clogged. Declan wants you to clean it out before nightfall.”

An owl harpy stalked into view, looking into the stall with curiosity. She had lethal talons and lots of feathers in a multitude of earth tones. She wore no clothing to cover herself.

“Don’t leer, Sayo,” Yew said.

“I’m just curious,” She said. “I heard he was almost worse than me when I got here. Is that true, Sunflower?”

“At least he didn’t scratch the bajeezus out of me, like you did. Be nice, Sayo,” Yew said, waving at Ethari as he left.

“I wouldn’t expect a harpy to be in a place like this.” Ethari said, sizing her up.

“Most people wouldn’t,” She said, coming close and ruffling her feathers.

“Why are you here, then?”

“Because I am,” Sayo replied gruffly. “What’s it to you?”

Ethari snorted and didn’t answer. Boy, if he didn’t see a little of himself in this prissy thing. “Did you come here to gawk at me? If so, you can shove off, I’m not in the mood to do tricks for you.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” She asked him suddenly, her mischievous eyes sobering. “This place. You’re having trouble adjusting to it, aren’t you? I know. I still have trouble adjusting, even after fifteen years.”

Ethari’s head rocked back at the sudden admission. “How did you know that?”

“I heard Yew talking about it. He’s all morose because he can’t cheer you up.”

Ethari wondered at Yew talking to other people about him, but said nothing about it. “Why is it hard for you to adjust? Were you on a ranch, like Yew?”

Sayo shook her head in disgust as she sat on the threshold of the stall door. “I’d sooner end my own life than be a slave like that. I came from a coven of harpies who reside in the mountains to the west.”

“So how did you end up here?”

Sayo shrugged her shoulders, not in an “ I don’t know ” way, but in an “ it is what it is ” way. “My mother was the coven leader and didn’t like competition. I was attacked by the coven when I started to get too old to be submissive. I guess I mouthed off one too many times, because she ordered me to be killed and the entire coven descended upon me in a ritual execution, including my own siblings. My aunt felt pity for me and snuck me out while I was pretending to be dead, before they consumed me. I’m not sure how, but I ended up here.”

Ethari was quiet. He hadn’t even met everyone on the farm yet, but their stories were all so diverse. There was only one thing that tied them all together.

“Life in the coven was a struggle,” She continued when Ethari didn’t respond. “We fought over everything and everything was a competition. We competed for food, our place in the hierarchy, mating rights, anything you can think of. We didn’t help each other, because helping was the fastest way to get stabbed in the back. No one did anything ‘nice’ for others without harboring bad intentions. It took me so long to adapt to the farm here because none of it felt real. It seemed like a trick my mother had concocted to trap me. Even now, I sometimes have the feeling that I’ll blink and be back in the ritual, being shredded to death to appease my mother’s bloodlust.”

Ethari’s brow furrowed. “How did you deal with it? I can’t get comfortable, everything feels so foreign. I… I can’t trust anyone, even if I want to. And… I really want to.”

“Yew really got to you, huh?” Sayo said, her owlish face grinning. “They do that here. It’s hard to get out of this place without changing fundamentally in some way.”

“I can see that.”

Sayo shrugged again, her feathers whispering against each other like sand in the wind. “My advice? It’s gonna take time, just like with that leg of yours. It’s going to feel strange for a long time. There’s no way around that. The only thing you can do is trust.”

“Trust who?”

“Whoever. Yew, Me, Birch, Cetzu. Yourself. It doesn’t matter. Find something to trust in and it’ll come easier to you.”

“What if I can’t?” Ethari asked plaintively.

“Then you’ll be stuck, like I was for a long time. Moving forward is impossible if you’re stuck in the past. Trust is the only way.”

“Did you find someone to trust?”

“Yeah,” Sayo said. “My little brother, Asahi. He just… attached himself to me when I arrived, like a barnacle. I hated him and was uncomfortable with him, since he was male, but he grew on me slowly. He showed me all the treasures that he had hidden, little shells and colored rocks and shiny bits. Garbage to most people, but things he cherished. He doesn’t have a mean or spiteful bone in his body. He taught me that I didn’t have to compete for affection, because he had plenty to spare for everyone. It’s strange to me that he’s a teenager now. I almost expected him to stay a baby forever.” Sayo smiled. “He’s my best friend. You should get one too.”

Ethari breathed a sigh out of his nose. “Why do you call Yew Sunflower?” He asked, suddenly curious.

Sayo laughed. “I was extremely uncomfortable around men when I arrived, so I started calling the men by the names of things I liked, like flowers, to make myself feel less anxious. If I thought of them as flowers, I wasn’t as scared. You’re Dogwood, by the way.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Yew returned, and Sayo stood up, making to leave.

“Does it really help?” Ethari asked Sayo as she stepped away. “Giving your trust to someone?”

Sayo nodded and smirked. “It makes all the difference.”

Four days later, Ethari was cleared to start rehabilitating using the prosthesis, and Yew helped Cetzu put the new leg on.

“Thirty minutes,” Cetzu said. “You gotta work up to long term use slowly, or you’ll ruin yourself.”

“I get it, I get it,” Ethari said, settling into the leg uncomfortably and grunting. “You’ve said that five times now.”

“Just being cautious,” Cetzu said. “If you end up damaging the stump even more than it is now by doing too much too fast, you’ll end up completely immobile, so it doesn’t hurt to repeat myself, just so you really listen.

“If you can make it around the field without my help, I’ll give you a surprise,” Yew promised. “I think you’ll like it.”

Ethari snorted. “If you say so.”

Ethari went out of the barn on his own for the first time, slowly and gingerly limping on his new leg. He was grateful he had four legs rather than two, or he’d be flat on his face by now. It was painful, and he wanted to lie back down almost immediately, but he couldn’t let himself do that. He was free for the first time in his life. He wasn’t going to let having a missing leg stop him now.

However, once around the field was grueling. He had to walk a little, take a break, and repeat. Yew trailed behind Ethari by a short distance, ready to help if he needed it.

“You’re doing great, Ethari,” Yew said. “You can make it.”

Ethari didn’t have the energy to tell him to be quiet, so he didn’t say anything, only focused on getting back into the barn. Once he made it in, he struggled to stand so that Cetzu and Yew could remove the leg, and then collapsed, exhausted.

“You did it,” Yew said after Cetzu left. “I knew you could! I’m so proud of you.”

“Shut up and let me catch my breath,” Ethari gasped, leaning his body against the wood of the stall. Yew fell silent, and Ethari spent the next few minutes gulping down air. When he caught his breath, he opened his eyes and saw Yew kneeling right in front of him, a cute smile on his face.

“Well?” Ethari asked weakly. “Did I earn my surprise or not?”

Yew’s grin widened. “I’d say so,” He said, and took Ethari’s face in his hands. Before Ethari could ask what he was doing, Yew kissed him.

It was a short peck on the lips, and Ethari surprised himself by pulling Yew in and deepening the kiss. It started simple, but it ended up a mess of teeth and tongues and Yew’s moans against Ethari’s lips. Ethari could feel himself become aroused, and stopped, breathing hard.

“I told you you’d like it,” Yew said, also breathless and grinning.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethari said, though he didn’t release Yew. Instead, he pulled him into an embrace and kissed his neck and shoulder.

“You’re more receptive than I thought you’d be,” Yew said, returning the embrace and stroking down Ethari’s upper back. “I’m happy, of course, but I just… thought I annoyed you.”

“You do annoy me,” Ethari said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”

“Who’s the weirdo now?” Yew said, kissing Ethari’s ear.

“You like me like this,” Ethari said, laughing for the first time. “You said so.”

“I did say so,” Yew said.

Months of therapy and a full season later, Ethari could get around just fine on his own. He still couldn’t run, and there was some doubt that he ever would, but at the very least he could walk unassisted. He offered to do some work around the farm, but despite the start of the planting season coming quite soon, they insisted he wait a while longer before taking on his share.

Yew spent all of his free time with Ethari, helping him with the physical therapy and just enjoying his company, and Ethari felt himself coming out of his shell under the warmth of Yew’s encouragement and guidance. He went out to meet the other members of the family and introduce himself to them, including young Asahi, about whom Sayo had bragged. He started attending the family meals with them and eventually began engaging in conversations, stilted at first, but becoming more natural over time. He apologized to Birch for causing a ruckus and even greeted shy, non-verbal Hazel, who they’d realized was pregnant shortly after he arrived, although he was in no fit state to care at the time. It’s part of why Birch had been so touchy. Birch, who was in much better spirits now that Hazel was past the worst of her pregnancy sickness, accepted his apology and even offered to share a pint with Ethari sometime.

One day, after Ethari had been deemed mostly healed and with no restrictions on his movement, Yew and Ethari took a walk out hand-in-hand into the woods, out of sight from the farmhouse and barn. It was the farthest he’d been from it since his arrival and that might have made him feel apprehensive, but today felt special for some reason. It felt like he was anticipating something, like something was in the air that he could taste, but he wasn’t sure what it was, a flavor he’d never experienced before.

“Are you going to stay here?” Yew asked him after a while. “I know we never talked about it, but you’ve spent all your time at that ranch, so I figured you might want to go out and see the world. I would understand that.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Ethari asked him.

“Well, no,” Yew said. He seemed uncharacteristically downtrodden. “But… I don’t want to keep you here if you want to see more of the world. It would be selfish of me to expect you to stay just because I want you to.”

Ethari stopped him, making him spin to face him.

“Sayo told me something a few months ago,” Ethari said. “Back when I was struggling to accept the kindness that was being shown me. She said I needed to trust. She said it didn’t matter who or what it was, but I needed to put my trust in something in order to move forward. And she was right. Once I decided to trust, being here came more easily. It’s still hard for me to adapt to a place where nothing is expected of me, but I wanted to move forward and stop living in my trauma so badly that I was willing to take advice from anyone willing to give it, even a stranger. It just so happened that the advice I got was exactly what I needed.”

“I wondered what the two of you talked about. What did you decide to put your trust in?” Yew asked, wide-eyed.

“You, silly,” Ethari said with a laugh. “You make it hard not to trust you. That puppy face of yours is just too innocent not to trust. Once I let myself trust you, things seemed to fall into place, as if I was just waiting for it to do so. I won’t lie, I still find myself doubting now and then, and I still have nightmares. I don’t know if either of those will ever go away, but you make it better. It’s hard to doubt when you’re near me. So… I want you near me all the time. I only feel comfortable when you’re there. So… don’t go far… alright?”

Yew nodded, and Ethari pulled him in sharply, kissing him hard. They had been careful about being affectionate around the family, since they didn’t want questions they may not have been ready to answer. But Ethari was ready now.

“Do you want me to show you what I want to do?” Ethari said, taking Yew’s face in his hands. “Do you want me to show you how I really feel?”

Yew gulped, but stared Ethari in the eye. “Yes.”

Ethari kissed him again, perhaps a little roughly, but Yew seemed to respond positively. “Then turn around.”

Yew was shaking a little as Ethari released him, but he obeyed, bracing his upper body against a tree as Ethari reared up on his back legs and mounted him, his cock slipping out of its sheath and bobbing as it searched out an entrance.

“Do you want this?” Ethari asked, wrapping his arms around Yew’s shoulders from behind.

Yew looked up at Ethari and grasped Ethari’s arms. “Oh, gods, yes. Please, Ethari, please.”

Ethari pressed his cock to Yew’s pucker, slowly inching inside him. Yew’s eyes half closed and he moaned.

“Does it hurt?” Ethari asked. “Sorry, I’m not really sure what I’m doing yet.”

Yew shook his head. “No, it feels good. You feel so good.”

Ethari bent so that he could kiss Yew upside down as he thrust inside of him and Yew moaned against his lips. This close, his white lashed fluttered like feathers in the breeze, and Ethari was struck by his beauty.

“You’re beautiful, Yew,” Ethari whispered, and Yew smiled.

“How can I be beautiful when you exist, Ethari?” Yew said. “You’re so handsome. I thought so when I first saw you. I’d have flirted with you sooner if I thought you’d be receptive.”

Ethari grinned. “You’re just buttering me up, aren’t you?”

Yew smiled around his gasping. “Only always. That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Ethari suddenly thrust harder, and Yew cried out. Ethari covered his mouth with his hand.

“You have to be quiet, or we’ll get unwanted company,” Ethari whispered into Yew’s ear. “Are you going to be good?”

Yew’s eyes were glassy in pleasure, and he nodded. Ethari removed his hand and Yew moaned again, only less loudly.

“I love how this feels,” Yew breathed. “You’re so good at this. Are you sure it’s your first time?”

Ethari bucked again, and Yew struggled to keep his voice down.

“Maybe I’m just naturally gifted,” Ethari suggested.

“I believe it,” Yew replied, his eyes closing as Ethari thrust faster. “There’s nothing you can’t do. You’re amazing.”

“You’re going to make me cum if you keep talking like that,” Ethari said, as he was, indeed, close to bursting.

“You can,” Yew said, his grip tightening. “I think… I’m almost there, too.”

“How would you know?” Ethari asked him. “Isn’t this your first time?”

“Yeah,” Yew said, his face scrunching up. “But I feel… something… happening…”

Yew groaned loudly, and Ethari heard a thick splashing against the ground at their feet. Thrusting faster, Ethari began to grunt in Yew’s ear.

“Don’t stop yet, it’s happening again,” Yew begged. Ethari pounded into him, and Yew did cry out, his body stiffening underneath Ethari, and another splashing was heard.

“My goodness,” Ethari said, riding the edge of his own pleasure and letting it rise and ebb, delighting in the sounds Yew made when he came. “Aren’t you eager, love?”

“I’ve wanted you so badly, the last few months,” Yew said, sweat collecting on his brow despite the cool spring air. “I’m so happy you want me, too.”

“I do,” Ethari told him. “I’m not going anywhere, Yew. I’m here forever. If I go anywhere, you’re coming with me. I need you.”

Yew shuddered against Ethari, and came again. “You’re so good to me. I’m so happy you chose me. Thank you.”

“No,” Ethari said, his voice soft. “I should be thanking you. You gave me new life.”

“I just saw you on the road and helped you,” Yew said, his body shivering with the waves of pleasure.

“You did more than that,” Ethari pressed his forehead against the top of Yew’s head. “Oh, gods,” He exhaled. “I’m close.”

“Please, do it,” Yew said. “You can do it. I want it.”

Ethari came hard inside of Yew, his seed spilling out and down Yew’s back legs. Ethari nearly fell over in his attempt to disengage from Yew. Yew helped him stand straight, laughing.

“I think I need a wash,” Yew said. “Do you want to help me clean up at the river?”

“I can’t get in the water because of the leg,” Ethari said, trying to catch his breath. “But I can pull up a bucket of water and rinse you down. But before that…” Ethari pulled Yew into an embrace. “I meant it, you know. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. I didn’t know I could be so happy. Thank you for saving me. And thank you for letting me put my trust in you. Sayo was right.”

“About what?” Yew asked, hugging Ethari tight.

“Trusting you made all the difference.”

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uranometrias · 1 hour

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nobody ever loved me like you do, spencer reid

just a little prompt i couldn't get out of my head. this is majority fluff, it got kind of heavy towards the end, but no smut because i'm a coward, reader is a university student, there's an age gap between reader + spencer, unspecified, but reader is over 22. based off of 'pov' by ariana grande.

this absolutely got long as shit, i don't know how to be normal. (5.6k wrds)

"what's on your mind?" you hadn't realized you'd gone quiet until you feel the dip of the couch. it takes a moment to snap out of the little moment you've dug yourself into, but when you do you're pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the couch next to you. he grabs hold of the book you'd haphazardly discarded, and flips it over. you imagine internally he's tsking at you, he was always reminding you to be careful of the spine of the books you read, but you're happy he doesn't make a move to scold you about it now. instead, he closes it, and places it in his lap, letting his eyes trace all over your pretty face.

"is everything okay?" he prods, and in truth, you were fine. you didn't really know why you'd gotten so lost in your head, it just happened sometimes. domesticity was still fairly new, and despite the fact that your relationship with spencer had gotten to the point where you both were comfortable staying at each other's places for long periods of time, you still kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. spencer was the first guy you'd been with that was older, already established, had a 'big boy job' as you so eloquently labeled it. he had security.

not that you were some lazy, unprepared individual letting your life slip by, but you were still figuring things out. you were in university, and you had big dreams and hopes for your future, it just felt like it was taking forever to get there. to your future. everyone was always telling you not to wish away your youth, but by law you were no longer a child, you hadn't been for a while. your twenties were meant to be for 'figuring things out', finding yourself all over again, or that's what you were always hearing. over time it felt easier said than done.

the point was when you were still uncertain about what you wanted to spend the rest of your life doing, it was hard to feel grown up. especially when you had a boyfriend like spencer who was always doing something to raise the bar for humanity. he was a genius, he worked for one of the most prestigious units in the fbi, he was in the fbi... that in itself was an accomplishment. he had phds, bachelor degrees, and an extensive knowledge of literature in numerous languages and texts. to top it all off, he really was a great boyfriend.

you supposed it was just you feeling a bit insecure. you didn't believe that he expected too much of you, but that didn't stop you from putting unnecessary pressure on yourself. "everything's fine." you promise, and you tack on a warm smile to really sell it. the action triggers an involuntary smile from spencer, and you feel a bit faint, just because he's so pretty. "i was just watching you read." you admit, and it was true, you had gotten a bit lost in how quickly spencer was speeding through his own book. it didn't trigger insecurity, it just left you in awe at how absurdly lucky you were to have bagged spencer.

"yeah?" and he's got this edge to his voice that he usually gets when he's tired, sleepy, content. it was comforting, knowing that he was comfortable being here, like this with you. "are you sure that you're alright?" and he's leaning forward, hand cupping your cheek as he rubs his thumb over your jaw, and you lean into him. "you know you can talk to me about anything." he adds, and he's perceptive. you're certain that part of this has to do with his job, and the other part has a lot to do with the fact that he knows you so well.

"i know." you answer instantly, and you bring your hand up to hold over top his. "trust me, i know. that's why i like you so much." you beam brightly, and you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips. it's a peck, and it sounds like one with the way that your lips smack together. you note his disappointment when you pull away just as he moved to kiss you a bit more fiercely. you find yourself giggling a bit as he pouts at you, and you lean in to offer him another kiss.

"like?" he asks, and you know he's fishing, but for what you're not sure. his eyes never look as bright as they do when he's sitting across from you. it offers you a bit of an ego boost to know that someone as handsome as your spencer consistently looks so enamored and enraptured with you. "i thought that we were a little past like..." he says, and your nose scrunches up at his big doe-eyed stare. "am i wrong about that?" and he holds his breath.

"no, you're right." you promise, and he relaxes. "we're past that." spencer looks relieved, and you wonder sometimes what's going on in his mind. he doesn't say anything for a while, he just looks at you, his thumb continues to draw soothing circles on your face, and you think you might be convinced to fall asleep if he keeps it up. "i'm sorry." you offer, and spencer's immediately shaking his head at you.

"don't apologize." he presses, and he's peeling his hand away from your face. now it's your turn to be disappointed. "and if you don't feel like we're past the 'i like yous'... that's okay too." and he looks sad now. it's your least favorite expression on him, and you wonder if you've done something wrong. "i don't want you to feel like you're rushing yourself, okay? or like you're forcing yourself to feel anything that you don't." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inward, face contorting.

"i don't feel that way." you deny sternly. spencer's head tips to the side, curls following along, and the urge to run your hands through his hair almost chokes you out. "spencer, i don't feel that way." you reiterate, and you hate that his expression doesn't change. you hate that he looks like he doesn't believe you. "i have too many feelings for you." you admit, and you shake your head. "all of the feelings." you insist, and the problem is that you haven't managed to fully verbalize what that means. spencer's told you that he loves you, often.

you haven't managed to say it back, but not because you don't believe it. it's more so out of worry that once you tell him, things will get too real. you'll grow too comfortable, and by-proximity expose parts of yourself that spencer might not be ready for. things that'll make him run for the hills, and take his sweet i love yous with him. "that's a lot of feelings." spencer replies, and he sighs deep, chest moving with the action. you smile, mostly to ward off the tension.

he doesn't return it, and you suddenly feel anxious. "do you want-" he trails off, and he looks conflicted. "if you wanted to break up..." and your heart sinks. "you would tell me, wouldn't you?" he asks, and you immediately reach out for him, his hands curling into yours as you interlock your fingers. you want to slam your head into a wall, mostly for worrying him in this way. The last thing you'd been thinking about was a breakup, in fact, you'd finally resided yourself to the fact that you were in this relationship as long as spencer wanted you.

"do you think that's what this is about?"

"isn't it?" his quick retort makes you frown, and now you're facing one another with matching pouts. "i just want you to trust me with your feelings... all of them." he explains. "even the ones i might not enjoy the most." he treads lightly, and you find that there's nobody in the world who could matter more to you. "and i'm sorry if i haven't been doing enough to let you know that." and you huff in annoyance, but not with him. never with him. with yourself for overthinking.

"you've got it all wrong." you tell him, and you hope your words sound as definitive as they feel. "a breakup is the farthest thing from my mind." you shuffle a bit on the couch, mostly to invade the space he just took. you don't stop moving until he's back in your orbit, your knees brushing against his leg. "i've never met anyone like you before." and it feels cliche, but you suppose you've earned the right to quote the words, because they're true. "i think as far as expectations for boyfriends go, you managed to smash through them all."

spencer finds himself nervous under the onslaught of kind words. he can't look away from you though, because it's so rare when you let him into your head. despite all his profiling skills, you were still almost completely a mystery. he understood your physical cues, but the emotional ones were still hard to pinpoint. "i think sometimes i still keep waiting for you to realize how amazing you are..." and he has that annoying feeling of giddiness in his stomach. it feels childish, but he adores the rush loving you continues to give him.

"i think i'm a little aware." he says, and you laugh. your hands reach out, and now you're the one holding his face. he thinks it's a comfort thing of yours, the way you like to hold onto him when you're talking. his apprehension towards touch was no match for the way your hands on his face brought him a feeling of comfort like nothing else.

"and you still want to be with me?" you ask, and you don't sound bashful, more confused than anything else. spencer's confusion soon matches your own, his eyebrows furrowing as he recites your words over and over in his head. what sort of question was that? "i just mean that there's so many types of women out there... you work with so many." and your mind drifts to his closeness with the girls he worked with in the fbi. namely jennifer jareau.

you'd only met her a few times, you knew she was married with sons, but you couldn't shake the thought that if she wanted him she could have him. she was older, more confident, disastrously pretty. "i just don't understand why someone like you would want to be with someone like me." you express, and spencer is flabbergasted. he forces you to peel your hands from his face, instead choosing to hold your hands and squeeze them gingerly.

"someone like you?" and he wants you to get it all out, every last bit of it, mostly so that he can correct every incorrect notion about yourself that you expose.

"someone who's immature, naive, inexperienced, uncertain about almost every major decision... you know? someone like me." you divulge, and he winces. "you've got so much going for you, i just don't want you to feel like i'm holding you back." you admit. "so when i saw you reading... i don't know-" you trail off, and spencer's eyes shoot across the room to his own discarded book. "i guess i just remembered how incredible you are, and how severely inadequate i must be in comparison." and your voice gets quieter as you finish.

"you could never hold me back." he states firmly. "and even more than that... i don't think it's actually possible for someone to really hold you back." he admits, and you feel him beginning to start on a tangent, though you don't mind. they were far and few in between these days. "to me it always seemed more like an excuse people use to place blame on someone else for their shortcomings." spencer's let go of your hands, and you watch them as he gestures boisterously. "for everything i'm good at, there's so many areas where i fall short."

you don't think you've ever loved him more.

"and who says phd's and fast reading skills are what make a person better suited or fit for anything?" and he knows that you want to rebuttal, so he continues so you don't get the chance to. "my skills help me with the job that i do... we can agree that's true, right?" he asks, and you nod your head. "right. but, you don't want to have my job, do you?" he asks, and your nose curls up. you thought that what spencer did was admirable, you loved celebrating the victories with him, you knew it was important, but you don't think you had it in you.

"no, i guess not." you disagree.

"and you don't need to be called 'doctor' or hold a gun, or kick down doors, in order to be... a suitable life partner."

"you're not kicking down any doors, spencer." you crack a joke, and you like that he laughs, it's the kind that morphs into a toothy smile.

"maybe not, i just mean that out of the two of us, you're not the one who needs to worry about not being adequate... i don't think there's anything in existence that would make me not want to be with you." and you feel bashful, but know full well that you can't pull your eyes away from him. "you're a lot to lose." he exhales, and you blink. "and you don't need doctorates or much of anything for that to be the case." spencer beams a little bit, "you captivate people without even realizing it sometimes." spencer's hand moves to rest on your thigh.

"you think so?"

"sometimes i try and figure out how i got so lucky, and i hope that i keep doing whatever it takes to make you stay." he admits. "does that make sense?" he asks, and you feel your heart wanting to burst out of your chest.

"it makes a lot of sense." you agree. "and i can guarantee that as long as you want me, you'll have me." you promise.

"and if i want you forever?" he asks, and you smile despite yourself.

"then i guess you're stuck with me forever, doctor reid." and he likes the thought a lot more than he anticipated. he thinks that's why he can't ignore the urge to kiss you. he leans forward, lips overtaking yours like a magnet being pulled towards a kindred force. you almost pounce, finding yourself rooted on top of his lap, fingers finally finding solace in his hair, as his hands scope out your waist and the curve of your hips.

you hum when his lips peel away from yours, landing on your neck as he peppered the space with kisses and small bites. kissing spencer was a surefire way to get you both started down a path of insatiability. it was dangerous, but you supposed with the conversation context in mind, it made perfect sense for this to be the end result. still, it feels like there's more to say, and you suppose that it's why you tighten your hold on his hair just slightly, craning your neck to give him all the access he needs. "spence?" you gasp.

he doesn't verbally acknowledge you, instead his arms loop around you, bringing you closer as he proceeds to leave hickeys in areas that would be much too difficult to hide. "spence..." you try again.

"i'm listening." he promises before he's placing a kiss just behind your ear. it makes you squirm, suddenly feeling lightheaded as his grip on your waist tightens slightly.

"can you tell me again?" you ask, and you don't want to ruin the moment, especially after he just sweetly poured his heart out to you. "tell me how you feel about me..." you instruct a bit more impatiently. spencer's more interested in leaving more marks on your skin, but he also enjoys the vulnerability that comes with expressing himself to you. he pulls away from your neck with one last peck, before his lust-filled gaze is locked on yours. you've taken to raking your nails through his hair, gently dragging against his scalp.

"you still don't know?" he asks, and part of you thinks he's doing this on purpose. it's not until you register the slight upturn of his lips that you recognize that he's teasing you.

"is it so bad that i want to hear it again?" you press, and you're feeling a bit impatient, mostly because you're itching to finally spit the three word phrase out, but you want him to say it first.

"no." he denies, head shaking. "it's not bad at all, and i don't mind telling you, but, can you ask me the right way?" and you feel the shift, the way his fingers finally slip under your shirt. it makes you jump, the way his fingertips trace over the skin of your lower back. "what are you fishing for, pretty girl?" you don't have the courage to stare at him anymore, instead you find your head glued to his chest, eyes squeezed shut, as your arms looped around him.

"i'm not fishing." you deny, and spencer presses a swift kiss to the top of your head. despite the desire to 'get to the good part' that you know you both feel, you still enjoy this part. the clinginess, the way he showered you in attention and affection that you had never believed yourself worthy of. he loved you so openly, so easily. it never felt like a burden, it never felt like something he had to try too hard at. you liked that, you liked that he made falling in love so easy.

"no?" he doesn't sound convinced. "what are you hoping i'll say then? i know you have an idea." he says and his chin is resting on the top of your head as he adjusts you on his lap. the tension still rests in the air, but he's holding you like he's comforting you almost, arms looped around you in an almost-hug that feels warm and comfortable and familiar. it's the kind that you could get lost in, fall asleep in. maybe you will, just as soon as you get through this last little emotional hoop.

"you don't know everything."

"did i say that?" he corrects you lowly, he's not impatient with you, and you wonder how long it took him to garner enough stamina to keep up with your sass.

"no." you deny, and he hums in agreement. you've taken to running your hands up and down his back, palms closing and opening as you try and quiet your anxiety. "i want to hear you say that you love me again." you admit, and it feels like a lump is forming in your throat. "i know that you do." you add a second after. "but sometimes i like to hear it anyway..." you clear your throat. "it makes me feel-" and you trail off, because you haven't really gotten over this hurdle.

spencer's smiling, and you know that he is, because as much as he knows you, you think you know him a little bit too. "how does it make you feel?" he asks, and you shake your head, eliciting an amused sort of exhale. "you can tell me anything." he reminds you, and of course you know that. "or we could move on... if it's too much to say right now." he offers you an out like the gentleman he always has been. "do you want to go back to before?" and you definitely want to kiss him.

maybe do a bit more than kiss.

"yes." you agree, but when it seems like he's about to move, you hold him even tighter to you. "wait, no." you deny, and he's exhaling through his nose. you cringe, because you know that sometimes you can be indecisive, but you think about what he'd told you earlier. you remind yourself that he wanted you, and you calm down. "i want to kiss you again." you start, and he doesn't say anything, because he knows you're not finished. "but i want to finish our conversation first." you huff, and he's surprised, in a pleasant sort of way.

"we can do that." he promises, "what do you want to tell me?"

"i like when you tell me that you love me." you admit, and you think it's good that you're not looking at him. you also like that he's still lightly dragging his fingers along your waist, it makes you shy, but you welcome it. "it's not something that you just tell everyone, so i like that you tell me, even though i haven't said it back." you feel like you're losing your breath as you rush to get it out. "and i like how what you said earlier makes me feel."

"how's that?" and spencer is spencer. he likes to drag things like this out, he likes for you to elaborate, to explain yourself. you suppose he likes to hear you just as much as you like to hear him.

"i don't know how to express it really, but it feels nice. 'cause you always sound like you mean it when you say it." you freeze when his fingers stop their slow journey, but you don't have time to focus on that right now. "not like butterflies, but it's like stabilizing." you shrug your shoulders. "and it's not the sort of thing that feels like it comes with some sort of price. like i don't hear it, and think 'oh he's only saying this because he wants to sleep with me', it doesn't-" you inhale. "it doesn't make me anxious or anything."

spencer's disappointed that his memory mostly works for things he's seen rather than heard, because he wants to relive this conversation for the rest of his life. it's a bit unheard of, especially in his lifetime. he's seen people in love, he's witnessed incredible relationships, but nothing he's seen has ever compared to the way that you manage to make him feel. he's had girlfriends, one-night-stands, experimentations, and things in between that felt like they could be the real thing, eventually. being with you though feels easy.

even when things go wrong, when you're too stubborn to communicate, and he's too tired to fight for you to, it still feels easy. like the struggles that come with your relationship are struggles he's willing to deal with. you're someone he's willing to deal with.

"it makes me want to stay." you offer, and it's scary, mostly because you've got the world's worst habit of running away when things get too real. you packed your bags at the first inconvenience, it was who you were, who you had been before spencer. you didn't stick around to fight for your relationships, you didn't let anyone fight for you either. "like... like even if things go horribly wrong, it'll still be okay as long as you still sound like you mean it when you say i love you."

you don't think you'll cry, but you do think once you're all finished, you'll want to stay wrapped up in him like this.

"i've just never met anyone that makes life make so much sense." and your leg is slightly shaking, and you're burrowing even deeper into his chest, holding him just a bit tighter. "so please... can you tell me again?" you ask, and your hands have taken fistfuls of his shirt, curling just slightly as you try and will your heartbeat to slow.

"you all done?" he asks, and you nod your head, all done with talking for now. "i'm so proud of you." and your confusion is back, as well as your ability to talk.

"what for?" you inquire, and he unloops his arms from around you. you don't want to move, but you know where this is going. still, you decide you'll wait until he asks you.

"can you look at me, please?" he asks quietly, and you're immediately pulling back, hands in your lap as you take in all the emotions resting on your boyfriend's face.

"oh, spence!" and you hope he's not about to cry. you've never been privy to it, but you can imagine what it'll do to you in your emotionally high state. "i know that was a lot, i'm sorry." you apologize despite the fact that you've done nothing wrong, a bad habit.

"please don't ever apologize for something like that." he corrects you gently. "i'm proud, because i can imagine how hard that likely was, but you did it anyway, so thank you for sharing how you're feeling with me." you look away just for a second, the moment feeling too heavy for you to manage. you're looking back at him just a moment after, his stare something you've always been terrible at ignoring and avoiding. "would it be a let down if i told you that i feel the same way about you?" he asks, and you wonder if this phase ever ends.

you don't want to wake up one day and find that your smile no longer reaches your eyes when you look at him, or hear his voice.

"no." you answer quietly. "i like when you agree with me, especially about your feelings for me." and it's a small joke, one you partially mean. "but, you still haven't told me that you love me, yet." you remind him a bit more sternly than you have been.

"i know." he retorts, and he looks a bit smug. you want to say that you hate when he gets like this, but you know you're lying. "i'm waiting to see how long it'll take you to crack." he admits, and your nose curls. he beams at you, and you want to glare, just for the fun of it. "why are you determined not to say it first?" he asks, and you cross your arms over your chest, busted.

"you don't know what's in my head." you instead argue, and his eyes roll, but he still seems amused. "i can say it first if i very well wish." you add, and his eyebrows raise, a challenge. unlucky for you, because you had a problem with being challenged. you would always walk right into his trap like a fool.

"so then say it." he taunts, and you realize pride is one hell of a killer.

"fine, i will." you retort, voice laced in mock-aggravation. "i love you." you deadpan, you say it like it's a bother. "happy now?"

"not with that attitude. can you try again? say it like you mean it?" he presses, and you're weaker in the knees than you initially believed. all your bravado goes right out the window, and you're suddenly anxious again, with no bite to curb your words, you're certain he'll hear every ounce of emotion you feel towards him if you say it again.

"spence." you exclaim, and he's not moved. you think you hate him just a little. "it's not fair, you're being mean." you express, looking down at your lap, and you know that you're only behaving this way because you're overwhelmed.

"i'm not." he promises, and he ducks just a little so that you're looking directly at him again. "i wouldn't be, especially not about this." he adds. "i just want you to say it again for me, can you do that? please?" he asks, and you hate how absurdly handsome he is sitting across from you. he's got this way of looking innocent even when he's baiting you, and he's always got this intensity in his stare that's enough to knock the wind out of you. it's kryptonite, and precisely why you concede.

"spencer, i love you." he groans, quietly, but you hear him all the same. he's kissing you before you can react, and it's easy getting lost in moments like these. he always kisses you like he's trying to swallow you whole, too handsy for his own good. his kisses are desperate, tongue swiping out just slightly, likely to test the waters. you match his ferocity, and let your own tongue drag over his bottom lip before you press a bit more forcibly, hurriedly, desperately.

"i love you." you don't know why you're saying it again, but it's not as hard as the first time. you kiss him again, grumbling when he's quick to lean out of reach. you shoot him a sour glance, and he's not moved.

"hey, i love you too." he echoes you in the most love sick sort of way. it feels precisely as you had described it earlier, and that makes you happier. the fact that the feelings didn't change, didn't disappear all because you'd said the three words back. you hum contentedly, and then your head is back on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "does it still sound like i mean it?" he asks, he questions you softly, like he's trying to preserve the moment.

"mhm." you answer quietly, and you strain to kiss his throat once, before your back to resting against him. "did it sound like i meant it?" you mimic his line of questioning, and you're happy when his arms are back around you. he's a lot more respectable this time around, but before long, his hands are finding their chosen place back under your shirt, exploring your waist and hips as you try not to squirm.

"yes." he replies, and you're glad to hear it. "can you say it again?" you suppose in the grand scheme, you do have lots to make up for. he'd probably want you to say it over and over again.

"i love you." it's instantaneous, as is the way spencer's hold on you grows more firm. you hadn't wanted to mention it, the way sitting here like this with him had you itching for more, but it seemed you weren't the only one in that headspace. "spence?" you question, and he's dragging his hand up and down your back, legs starting to bounce just slightly.

"yeah?"

"can we go back to before now?" you ask, and you expect him to be a tease. he could never just give you what you wanted, he always had to drag it out, and make you nervous.

"back to before?" he pries, and he's leading. you huff audibly, and you adjust yourself on his lap, trying to control the way the pit in your stomach seemed to grow warm, heating you up from the inside. "you'll have to be a bit more specific than that, love." he tsks, and you hate him.

"i just-" you frown, hating this part. "i want you." you deadpan. "and you know that, so i don't know why you're being like this." except you do, because it's amusing to spencer to watch you get all flustered and nervous. you don't know why, but it's how he is. you think that one day you'll try your hand at flustering him back, just to see what all the hype is about. "i want you to-" and you're not sure exactly what counts for too blunt with a boyfriend like spencer. "let's f-fuck, okay?" and spencer's got that stupid amused look on his face again.

god, you hate him.

"that wasn't too hard was it?" he questions, and you cut your eyes. you're certain he'll make you pay for the looks, and the smart mouth down the line, but you can't care right now.

"it was excruciating." you correct haughtily. "you should be ashamed of yourself for treating the girl that you love this way." you add, and spencer's got his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he takes you in. you gulp, shuffling just slightly as you realize precisely the predicament you've gotten yourself into.

"do you want me to make it up to you?" he asks, and he sounds breathier than before, which only serves to make you more of a hot-and-bothered mess.

"i-" you blink owlishly, unsure of his intentions.

"yes or no?" he presses, and you think either way this goes, your done for. "you've just got to say the word."

"yes." head nodding, eyes blown to hell, it's easy enough. "you should. you definitely should." you respond, and then he's kissing you again. he's much more intense this time, stealing all of the air out of your lungs as his nails scratch against your skin, you hands moving to cup his face, you hope to keep him anchored to you this way. when he breaks from the kiss again, you're ready to lay into him, only to squeak when he scoops you up, standing up from the chair.

your legs immediately lock around his hips, and you're panting already, he seemed to have that constant effect. all it took was a little kissing, and you were already a mess. "i love you." he says this like it's a reminder, and you are quick to chase his mouth with your own. you could say you were a bit obsessed with the act.

"i know." you reply, and his eyes roll at you, but he still looks as love sick as you feel.

"good. i'm going to need you to remember that, because when we get to the bed, i'm going to do a lot of things that might make you think the opposite." he says this like a definitive promise, and you gasp. "do you understand?" he asks, and you're shivering, the anticipation already managing to strike you down.

"yeah-yes!" you stutter. "i understand, it's okay." you add. spencer's already got this look of pride residing in his eyes, and you know that you're in for it, silly you for thinking love confessions would be enough to get you out of all the backtalk and clear attitude. "i'm ready!" you insist like the eager girl you are.

"we'll see." he retorts.

god, you love him.

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