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#but each time i look for songs with the same themes as you are my sunshine it's just equivalent translations of the phrase
uncanny-tranny · 6 months
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I'm so not normal about nursery songs like You Are My Sunshine... we are singing our loved ones (babies and young especially) that they are the sun in our hearts, that they warm us with their very presence and that they are so, so dear and loved. How could you hate humanity when we have this unadulterated love for each other?
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............ ultimate somng
#i'll go a few months without hearing this and then for some reason I do again and I go insane#especially the very opening first section ....hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh#I like the orchestral version too but the piano one just has a different vibe in some ways#again I'm not really a big music person (in terms of listening to/being a fan of stuff. I like to make music and experiment with instruments#but like I've never been in a band fandom or or been to concert or cared about anything in a pop culture type way) I just have like#a list of some hyper specific songs with specific tones that I listen to like 400x in a row until I get tired of them and then#choose to listen to somehting else 400x in a row until I enetually circle back to one of the ones I already listened to 400x in a row#I rarely ever put music on in the backgroudn while doing things or treat it as an activity it's more of like.. a fixation or something#I go through 'music phases' where I just feel like listening to music as an ativity for a little while and then dont again for a few months#and when I do it's like the same songs 400x in a row again but gyhbhj#or sometimes cycles through a few songs or something but all on repeat#NONE of which are ever like related to each other in any way but are jus what my brain wants to hear 4998898 times for some reason#my most recent music phase rotation was - 'moses fantasy' by paganini. 'luxury' azaleia banks. the fucking charles darwin natural selection#song from horrible histories. rock the casbah??? (idk why for a few days i just wanted to hear it ghhj). the succession opening theme.#'Ludacrismas' even though it's the middle of summer. and 'I just wanna dance with you' - starpoint..lol.. ALSO for a period of#like 2 days I was mentally preoccupied with that meme edited version of that genghis khan song that instead makes it say 'mingus kingus#' or 'i get a little bit dingus bingus' or whatever hbjhbhj.. If you don't know some of those go look them up. then put them all#in a youtube playlist and put it on repeat 6000x. this will give you a tiny snapshot into one aspect of my current mental landscape.#Really want to do a kazoo cover of Moses Fantasy. literally imagine how annoying that would sound on a loud abrasive kazoo#and ALSO how probably annoying parts of it would be to try to do ghhbjb.. the super high pitched violin but desperately squeaked#through the raspy cadence of a dollar store kazoo.... this is my design#okay im listening to it again HGHBHJ the fast parts.... just *frantic squabbling into a kazoo that's not even accurate*#ANYWAY.. I don't talk about music often because like most things I am also not capable of consuming music in a Normal Way and am defintely#not a cool trendsetter or someone with GoodOpinions to share. one of my favorite songs is something I heard in a commercial when I was#7 years old and nothing has ever topped it so.. ghbjhb.. .I am dictated not by popular media or trends but by an obscure series of algorithm#s performed by tiny squirrels that live in my brain who randomly pick and choose songs to suddenly resurfance into my conscious#'Remember that thing you heard a snippet of in school music class when you were 6? find it NOW on youtube. listen 500 times. now'#'then also literally don't listen to music again for 3 entire months until the next 4 day period where you listen to one thing on repeat'#ANYWAY ANYWAY.. obsessed with this ravel song again. also still in the grips of the charles darwin one unfortunately ghbhjbhj#brain is just a mix of *dreamlike ethereal piano* NA TU RAAAL SE LEC TIOOONNN *twinkling piano again* hGGMM... yeaaAA
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prettieinpink · 5 months
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NEW YEAR, NEW ME
( A collab with thee lovely lele @bloombabydoll )
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If you want to reinvent and rebrand yourself, or just continue to make positive improvements in 2024, the first thing is to evaluate your current year. 
EVALUATION
Reflect on how things went for you. Was there continuous growth? Were there many difficult times? Did you discover anything major about yourself and so on. Try to summarise your year in (a) paragraph(s) at least. 
Oversee your goals. Which ones you didn’t, did achieve, difficult ones, easy ones and the impacts it had on your life. 
Compare your dream girl then and now. Is your visualisation of your life currently different to the one you have now and why? 
List any major losses or successes you’ve had in your life, and how they have helped you or why it matters to you. 
This evaluation can be as detailed or simple as you like, but as long as you have a decent outline of your year. 
PREPARING & PLANNING
To prepare for 2024, you want to know what you want life to be like in 2024. Something realistic to a point, but still is a growth journey. 
Think of something that you can associate with 2024. This can be a word, a symbol, art, a song, a book, a movie, a place, or even just all of these things. When you think about your goals and your journey, this is your theme. This is something that should relate to your goals or your dream girl somehow. 
For me, I chose a word and a song. My word is growth because, for me, 2023 was a year for just being able to shed my old self which I did achieve however I just felt there wasn’t much growth as an actual person and not just in my environment. 
For my song, it is Mayflowers by Proleters and Taskrok. This song is the epitome of what I would imagine, is the most polished mindset. I would say perfect, but having a perfect mindset is near impossible. I want to have a mindset glow up because I’ve just been hard on myself lately which has caused my confidence to plummet. 
Before we get into the fun part of the preparation stage, we have to do some organisation in our life. I want you to take a look at your daily lifestyle and your habits, and be completely unashamed about this. 
Then categorise these habits into two sections; Leave and Leap. Leave habits are habits that you are leaving behind in 2023, leap habits are habits that are leaping into 2024 with you. 
Any habits that are self-destructive, addictive or generally harmful are leave habits. Beneficial habits and self-building are leaping with you into the new year.
I want you to do the same for people in your life, all environments (school, work, online etc) and anything else you believe needs to be sorted out. 
This works better if you can reason with yourself why it is a leaping or leaving habit, but don’t try to convince yourself a bad habit is good or vice versa. 
Now, I want you to document an honest paragraph about who you are right now. List your bad and good habits, your strengths and weaknesses and your behaviours. This one requires a bit more detail. 
Then, write a paragraph about who you will be in 2024, your dream girl. List her habits, lifestyle, behaviours, mindset, strengths and anything else extra. I’ll explain later but do not include materialistic desires in this your dream girl. Once again, this one also requires details. 
Stemming from those paragraphs, I want you to create specific and achievable goals. SMART goals are best, but I want to introduce you to how I set goals. 
I divide my year into quarters. For each 3 months, I have 3-5 goals for those months. Usually, it’s one from each area of my life. Then, I break down these goals. 
Questions and How They Help 
Why do I want to do this goal - For motivation and commitment. 
How it’ll benefit me - For the sake of improvement. 
How can I involve myself in this goal - To achieve your goal.  
I prefer this method because it is a lot simpler for me, as I am just a young girl and my bigger goals are more in the future in which I’ll utilise SMART goals. 
To create good goals; Make sure they align with your current values and life principles first. Try to avoid creating goals that you have just taken from the internet. Those goals just aren’t it and you most likely won’t follow through with it. 
Be specific. Don’t say you want to eat more healthily, instead say you want to include (a certain group of veggies/fruits) in your diet and reduce the intake of ( food/drink). 
E.g using eating healthy example
I want to eat healthy -> I want to start including foods that boost my immunity system and support my skin while reducing those that have the opposite effect. 
Then break down those quarterly goals into monthly, weekly and daily goals. Make these habits that you can establish in your lifestyle and have a way in which you can refer back to your progress. 
EXAMPLE GOAL BREAKDOWN
Quarterly Goal - Read 6 books.  
Monthly Goal - Finish 2 books.
Weekly Goal - Be or near half way of one book.
Daily Goal - 20 minutes of reading per day. 
AREAS TO SET GOALS IN YOUR LIFE
Academics
Spiritual
Fitness/sport
Health and wellbeing
Mental health
Personal life
Relationships
Hobbies and recreation
Now for the best part- vision boards! Collect all of your favourite images that embody your quarters or the whole year, then put them in one place where you can see them regularly!
Some ideas are a scrapbook, Pinterest boards, mood boards, playlists etc. 
Choose your theme; It can be your healthy girl era, your academic come back or whatever you want. You can have more than two btw.
Use quotes! Then actually say them in your daily life as a way to shift your mindset to reflect said quote.
Include inspirational people. It doesn't even have to be a millionaire or a very well established person, it could be your friends or someone on the internet.
Be imaginative. Your vision board doesn't have to realistic in my opinion, as the whole point of it to me is that viewing it daily and considering it to be part of your life one day allows for you to open up to those opportunities.
Materialistic Wants
I feel obligated to make this a separate section. This section is practically tangible objects that you want.
However, when choosing this said object that you want, mindfully think about why you want that thing specifically.
It doesn’t have to be meaningful, but as long as each thing on that list has got a purpose to you, and will serve you, I think it’s all good!
Conclusion
If you want, you can definitely start implementing habits before January. However, I believe that as long as you go into 2024 at least knowing who you want to be and shedding away any limiting beliefs, you’ll be fine.
Make sure to incorporate some self care rituals into your daily life as well✨
To end this, I hope everyone has a very merry Christmas! And that 2024 they will achieve to close that gap with their current selves and their dream girl selves! 💖🙏
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fairyysoup · 10 months
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i can see you
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♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎
pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.
aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it
words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)
cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift
a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon
ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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read here
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azrielhours · 4 months
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Our Marriage Bed
Azriel x Reader
Word count: 5k
Synopsis: Azriel is slowly going insane wanting you, having difficulty differentiating between dreams and wakefulness. One night his dream carries over and he tries to get it on with you.
Warnings: Slightly darker sexual themes. Unclear beginning/end of wakefulness. Light choking, rough sex. Azzy being mean.
a/n: dedicated to my darling @tadpolesonalgae. Can be read alone, but part 2 to Company of Phantoms
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Azriel couldn’t recall the last time in his five centuries he felt this much raw contentment. He was sitting in your room, waiting. Since that night you’d invited him to share your bed, a door had been opened. A friendship, he supposed, though friendship was a pathetic encapsulation for the trove of feelings he kept barely buried beneath the surface. The more nights he spent with you, the more the lines blurred between the boundaries of this arrangement. As did the boundaries of his sanity, but who was he to complain when he got to sleep in your arms night after night?
He basked in your space, illuminated by a warm glow. Your scent lingered in the sheets. Your books spilling secrets of your intellect on the shelves. Your music taste contained in the Symphonia on your dresser. Little pockets of you for Azriel to satiate himself with.
Azriel caught himself nodding off on the bed when the doorknob turned, and he straightened. Wordlessly, you walked right to him, a privilege he was yet to grow accustomed to. “Y/N,” he breathed as you sat right before him. You brought your hand to his chest, running it down his sternum, catching the skip in his heart. Azriel felt his last dregs of tiredness dissipate. Were you about to kiss him?
“Y/N—”
“Azriel,” you purred like a song.
He couldn’t breathe as your lips grazed his cheek, trailing to the corner of his mouth.
“Azriel.”
“Yes.”
“I have to tell you something.” Again, that dreamy drawl. He swallowed, waiting. But you only moved to trail your lips to his other cheek, shifting closer so your breasts pressed against his chest. Traced your mouth to his ear, letting your breath fan across his ear. There, you only whispered, Azriel.
Azriel. 
“Azriel?”
Azriel snapped awake.
Fuck.
You stood next to him—next to the armchair, where he’d—
He looked around. Not in your bed. His cheeks heated. You hadn’t been—touching him, hadn’t tried to—
“Sorry for taking so long,” you spoke softly. Not in that echoey chant.
“That’s okay,” he said. Just a dream.
You only smiled sweetly at him. “Did you want to sleep here again, baby?”
Baby. God, you were killing him.
Azriel only nodded. You bit your lip apprehensively. How you managed to call him pet names and sleep next to him but still blush at the suggestion had him huffing a laugh. He reached out, gently clasping your forearms, tugging you down. You gasped, bracing your hands on his chest, landing into his lap. Azriel bit back his twin surprise at his brazenness, but when you leaned closer, he relaxed into the indulgence.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, and you wrapped yours around his shoulders. Azriel buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “Missed you,” he mumbled.
“I missed you too, Azzy.”
Azriel knew he was growing too reliant on you—could feel his discipline crumbling more each day he got to have you while not quite having you.
You gently pulled your arms back over his shoulders to leverage yourself off his chest, and Azriel loosened his grip around your waist, happy to lazily hold you. He watched you expectantly. You cocked your head to the side, and Azriel copied you, making you laugh.
“Let’s go to bed,” you said. “You already fell asleep.”
Azriel shook his head. “I wasn’t.”
You rolled your eyes, hauling off his lap. “I saw you, Az.”
He stood, letting you pull him to bed. “I saw you,” he murmured. You’d touched his chest the same way then, too. In dream and wake.
You gave a confused laugh, shaking your head, pulling the sheets back with one hand while he held your other. The words marriage bed crossed his mind before he suppressed the thought.
Once you’d both settled in, Azriel reached for your hand beneath the sheets, feeling his drowsiness return. He focused on the sensation of your gentle strokes across his hand. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”
“Hm?”
“You said you had to tell me something,” he muttered.
“No, baby, I don’t think I did.”
He wasn’t sure why you’d change your mind so quickly. He knew he was asking too much of you, but he could not bear to pull back. “Can I touch you?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
Azriel snaked his arm beneath your shoulders, hauling you to his chest. “This okay?”
“Yes, honey,” you breathed, eyes closed. “Take whatever you want.”
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Mhm.”
“Now I can’t sleep without you,” he whispered, stroking down your arms.
You only huffed a sleepy laugh.
“Look what you’ve done to me.”
“Sorry, Azzy,” you mumbled. He could feel your soft smile against his collarbones.
Azriel savoured your warmth, pressing you even tighter against him. It was never enough. He always wanted more of you.
You twitched in your sleep, prompting him to soothe down your arms. But instead of settling down, you suddenly pushed your body more firmly against his. Azriel’s mind quieted fully when you extended a leg across his hips. He itched to trace the soft skin of your thighs. But it felt—it was too much, wasn’t it?
You’d told him to take what he wanted—invited him to share your bed each night, but surely, he shouldn’t—
You sighed in your sleep, a pretty sound. But you were suddenly moving again. Tracing a hand up and down his chest. Up to his throat, dragging your fingernails gently down the column, bringing Azriel fully into alertness again.
The leg thrown across his middle stretched further forward as you slowly dragged yourself atop him. He braced his hands on your hips as you seated yourself on his lap Were you—was this—
“Y/N?” he whispered.
“Azriel,” you sighed.
“Yes?” he breathed. He’d take anything you gave. He’d been right about earlier—you’d wanted him.
“I have to tell you something,” you whispered.
Your knees bracketed either side of his waist, pressing your hips more firmly to his own. Balancing your hands on his lower abdomen, Azriel’s breath hitched.
You ground down against him. Once, then stilled. It was enough for Azriel to feel blood coursing where your bodies met. Then, again. A delicate drag of your core against him. He couldn’t help the glide of his hands from your hips to your thighs, where the fabric of your nightgown had exposed them for his pleasure.
He clasped the underside of your thighs, revelled in the movement as you dragged yourself a third time against his growing hardness. Azriel groaned.
You were straddling him perfectly. You fit perfectly. He remained still, watching to see what you’d do next—prayed there’d be a next.
Lust clouded his brain, making it hard to lay still beneath you as you stared down at him. He wanted nothing more than to grind you against him again, to bury himself inside you.
You only stroked your hands up his torso as you bent over him languidly, arching onto his torso to pepper kisses along his jaw. Your breasts pressed firmly against him. When you moved your hips against his again, kissing his neck, he turned to whisper in your ear. “You’ll give me what I want?”
“Yes, Azriel.”
He let himself grind up against you. “Anything I want?”
“Anything,” you breathed. He could hear the smile on your lips. When you made him groan again, you giggled, a wicked sound. You kissed your way to his mouth, but before reaching his lips, you lifted off his chest, returning to your previous straddle. You smiled down at the panting mess you’d made of him. “I wanted to tell you something,” you murmured airily.
Right.
“Tell me, pretty girl,” he rasped, stroking up and down your thighs.
You leaned back down, and against his lips, you whispered. “Azriel.”
“Yes.”
“Azriel.”
“Yes.”
“I want you to make me your bride.”
Azriel wholly stilled.
You only grazed your lips against his. “Make me your bride.”
He couldn’t breathe.
“Azriel.”
Azriel.
“Azriel?”
He blinked.
You’d moved off his lap, still hovering over him, a hand on his chest. The air was suddenly colder, seemingly darker than a moment ago.
How did you get off him so fast?
Too far away.
He was still panting, but you were taking him in with a calmer reception. Azriel sat up to meet you where you were, hands immediately going to your waist, tugging you firmly to his chest. You gasped, bracing your hands against his shoulders.
He kissed the smooth warmth of your neck, felt your pulse quicken beneath his lips.
“Azriel,” you breathed. He only grunted in response. You wanted him, and that was all he wanted. He thoroughly enjoyed the high-pitched tone he put in your voice. “Azzy.”
“Yes.” He kept kissing your neck, making his way to your shoulders, your collarbones.
“Did—did you have another nightmare?”
“No, baby, I didn’t,” he spoke against your skin. Even softer than it was a moment ago. Warmer, somehow. He continued his path, memorizing the hitch in your breath.
“Azzy,” you spoke again, stroking gently down his arms. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you what you asked for.”
You said nothing but didn’t stop your gentle caress down his arms.
“You said I can take what I want,” he ground out.
“Yes, honey, but—”
“I want to give you what you asked for,” he said.
“And what’s that?”
Azriel lifted onto his knees, caging your body. He turned you, guiding you to lay beneath him. You looked so beautiful, hair fanned out on the pillow, staring up at him. “To make you my bride,” he said, voice guttural. He braced his hands on either side of your head, and you widened your legs for him to cushion himself against you.
Again, you said nothing, so he leaned forward.
You quickly rested your hands tenderly against his face, stroking his cheekbones. But when he leaned down to kiss you, you turned your head to the side. He kissed your cheeks, trailing closer to your mouth. “You want to be my bride, pretty girl?”
When he raised his head to look at you, your eyes had fallen shut, brows pinching. Your lips parted as you breathed harder. You were being oddly quiet.
Azriel waited a beat. “Say you want me.”
Your eyes shot open, meeting his gaze again.
“You want to be my bride,” he breathed.
You slowly retracted your hands from his face. He watched your throat work a delicate swallow, your eyes searching his as he waited. “Is that—what I wanted to tell you?” you spoke gently. Not that wicked reverberation.
Azriel stilled.
Oh.
There was—no, there was no way. It’d been so clear.
He’d felt you. Felt how much you wanted him.
God, he was going crazy.
“…yes,” he whispered. It was what you wanted, what he wanted, you’d said it so clearly, he’d been awake, he was sure—
“Azzy,” you spoke again with that devastating gentleness.
“Y/N,” he rasped. He didn’t like the desperate edge in his voice.
“Baby,” you said, that enduring softness both soothing and hurting. He let himself stay where he was, resting on your frame, basking in your softness, knowing it would soon end. You searched his eyes, the restless pleading in them broke your heart.
He closed his eyes, bracing himself. Shit. He’d put his hands on your body, lay between your parted legs. Tried to kiss you.
Asked you to be his bride.
“I’m sorry.” He began moving off you, even as you rose with him. “I didn’t—I just thought—”
“Azzy, it’s okay,” you soothed. He sat on the edge of the bed, and you followed as he exhaled deeply. “Your dreams—it’s not your fault. I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”
Azriel shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”
You cooed, wrapping your arms around his bicep. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll figure it out. I think you just need to rest.” You tugged, trying to pull him back to the pillows.
Azriel met your gaze again. “You still want me here?”
You frowned. “Of course I do.”
He searched your eyes for hesitation. Surely, he should leave, should keep himself from you. But you looked so lovely, beckoning him to sleep. No echoes, no siren mirth. Just honest eyes.
If he were better, if he were saner, he’d get up and leave. Would never risk your comfort—your body—in the state he was in. He was shocked at his inclination to stay.
He rose, let you pull the sheets back for him, and lay beside you. He knew shame would meet him in the daylight. He didn’t even want to think about what he’d revealed to you. He closed his eyes, and when you curled your body against his arm, he let himself savour it with every selfish drop of blood in him.
Perhaps this would be the last night he got this gift. He was perfectly content with not sleeping, lest he miss the feeling of sharing your bed this final time. Lest he fall back into his mania.
Azriel decided he’d choose in the morning whether this could carry on. For now, he’d lay next to you. Restless and haunted.
Baiting love and baiting sanity.
~
“Azzy, c’mere,” you murmured. You stood with your back to him in an open field, staring at something on the ground. Azriel approached you, took your extended hand to stand beside you. 
Before the both of you lay a large square plot in the earth. 
A grave.
Azriel turned to face you. Your eyes were cloudy, but you smiled up at him. “Our marriage bed.”
~
Azriel shot awake.
He’d let his feelings turn into something decaying and poisonous. Still, he didn’t know if he could muster the strength to walk away from you.
He turned in the dimness of the morning to see you and halted.
You were gone.
Dread pooled in his stomach, ice tightened his shoulders.
You’d left.
He shouldn’t be surprised, yet he remained frozen, aching. He let his head fall into his hands.
He’d scared you away. Surely.
He’d…he’d make sure you were okay, and then… that would be it. He’d withdraw.
Azriel got ready haphazardly, scrubbing his face in the sink, throwing on yesterday’s clothing. He raced downstairs, running immediately into Cassian, making him stumble.
“Mother’s tits, Az. What’s the matter?”
“Y/N. Have you seen her?”
Cassian was immediately alert. “Why? Is she alright?”
“She’s fine,” Rhys cut in, emerging from the kitchen.
“Where is she?” Azriel demanded, taking a step towards the High Lord.
Rhys surveyed him, and Azriel didn’t like the placating look on his face. “She went to run an errand. Nothing to worry about.”
“What errand, Rhys?”
Rhys stepped closer and placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. Had you told Rhys what’d happened the night before? “Az, maybe you should… ease up.”
“Ease up?”
“Yeah. Take a breath. She’s okay. I’d never let anything happen to her.”
“You keep hogging her all to yourself, Az,” Cassian joked. “We had to send her away.”
Azriel ignored Cassian’s attempt at lightening the mood. “Why’s she away, Rhys?”
“She needed to do something.”
“And she… asked you for help?” That shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.
“I just happened to be awake,” Rhys said gently.
Azriel was stunned silent for a beat as his brothers took him in.
“C’mon Az. Let’s go work off the stress in the ring. It’s been a while,” Cassian offered. Azriel still held Rhys’s assessing gaze. Like he could see straight into Azriel’s weary soul. He broke his gaze to meet Cassian’s. His brothers must think he was truly losing it.
“Okay, Cass.”
Rhys nodded in approval, satisfied. “She’ll be back soon.”
~
“Azriel,” you called.
You shifted, bracing yourself on his frame where he lay, somewhere cold and final. Azriel immediately supported you as you put more of your weight on him. He didn’t dare move as you leaned down to kiss his cheeks.
It was dark—you must’ve come to bed. He gently grasped your forearms where they were braced on his chest, lest you slip away again. “Where’ve you been?”
“I left.”
“Why?” his voice faltered.
“You didn’t make me yours,” you murmured.
“But I want to,” he tried rising, but you pushed him back down into the cold beneath.
You met his hazy gaze. “If this is how it’ll be, you’ll only find me in our marriage bed.”
His heart dropped to his stomach. No.
“Yes.
In the companion plot you’d dug to rot in the ground together. “It’s not safe there.”
“Here,” you corrected, kissing his eyelids. Though your eyes were unkind, you only peppered kisses along his jaw. “You don’t listen, Azriel.”
He focused on receiving your affection, ignoring the sharp discomfort inching up his spine. Stone digging into his flesh.
“Azriel. Are you listening?” As you shifted, dirt collected on his legs.
“I am,” he closed his eyes, smelling the musk of the earth.
“Azriel.”
“Yes.”
Azriel.
“Azriel,” you spoke. Gently this time.
Kindly.
He opened his eyes.
You leaned over him not in a tomb but in his bed. It was indeed dark, but there was no finality to be found here. Not when he met your gaze, filled with concern and gentleness. No punishing scowls nor reprimand. No asphyxiation imposed on his ribcage.
“Y/N,” he rose immediately. He’d spent the day searching for you. After sparring, he’d taken off, searched the River House. The city. Asked around for you to no avail.
He’d returned to the House of Wind as the sun set, defeated. He didn’t think sleep would find him in your absence. “I’m sorry,” he began. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just—my dreams, they’ve been—” disturbing. Uncanny— “they—I don’t know when they start, or if I’m awake—”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off with the softness in your tone he ached for. You placed a soothing hand on his arm. “After—um, last night, I asked Rhys if I could talk to Madja.”
Oh.
“I know you spent a while having sleepless nights,” you continued. “I thought—maybe the unsettling dreams you’ve been having are a result. So I had Madja make a tonic to help.” You held up a vial full of sloshing liquid.
“A sleeping aid?”
“Not exactly,” you shook your head. “This is to give you dreamless sleep. So you can have an easier time differentiating.”
Azriel was speechless. “Thank you,” he managed.
You nodded, offering a soft smile.
Which meant— “You’re not angry with me?” he asked.
A frown pulled your brows together. “No, love, I’m not angry. I came back to the Town House after Madja finished, but you were gone.”
Oh.
“I—I didn’t know if you—I was looking for you,” he said.
“So was I,” you murmured. “When you didn’t come back to the Town House all day, I asked Mor to winnow me here.” The silence was heavy as you both sat with the clarity. There was much to address. You averted your gaze, crossing your arms.
“What is it?” Azriel asked softly.
You found his eyes with an openness that had him holding his breath. “Last night, you mentioned—you wanted me to, um—”
“It won’t happen again,” he cut in.
You shook your head. “It’s not that, I—Azriel,” you paused, voice softening even further. “You dream of marrying me?”
Azriel was rendered speechless again, but he could do nothing but nod truthfully.
You blushed but uncrossed your arms, peering shyly. “Well. I can’t say I’m entirely opposed to the notion.”
Azriel couldn’t help his smile. His relief. “Yeah?” he spoke softly, itching to reach for you.
You nodded. “I mean we should take it slow, but I’m glad—I’m glad you also—” you gestured back and forth between your bodies. “I—it’s good, Azriel,” you stammered.
He stared intently at you, searching your eyes for doubt. Finding none. He swallowed. “I can do slow.” He’d crawl on shattered glass should you ask, let alone take slow ungratefully.
Your smile deepened, and if it was possible, so did Azriel’s affection for you. You shifted closer to him, reaching for his hand, winding your fingers together. “It’s late, Azzy.”
He narrowed his eyes playfully, happy to let you take the lead.
“Wanna give that tonic a try?” you smiled sweetly.
Azriel chuckled. “Is that taking it slow?”
You laughed. “If you got other things in mind, I won’t object.”
He opened his arms to you, and you smiled, shifting forward, sitting before him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly. Azriel sank back into the headboard, urging you further forward. You broke away to crawl into his lap. Azriel pulled you firmly against him by your thighs, enjoying your gasp against his mouth.
Azriel tried not to let his urgency show, but it was difficult to hold back when you pressed your body so deliciously against him. He’d dreamt of your warmth against him so frequently that this felt familiar rather than uncharted. It felt correct.
So when his hardness pressed against you, he only broke off from your mouth to see what you wanted next with no apologies tumbling from his lips.
You gazed at him, wide-eyed and wanting, but didn’t remove yourself. He forced his hands to settle on your legs despite the need to pull you onto him. You bit your lip apprehensively; with your grip on his shoulders, you dragged your core against his. Azriel’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head, his head falling back against the headboard in relief.
You seized the opportunity, bending forward to kiss his jaw. He gripped your hips, guiding your movement against him, relishing the gasp you let out in your shared pleasure.
He began pulling at the laces of your gown, helping you out of it. You paused only to bare yourself, and he followed suit, tugging off his shirt.
He wanted to taste you, to mark you, to sink inside you and have his way with you. When you returned to his lap in only your skin, he didn’t know where to begin.
Azriel traced down your front, kneading your breasts, drawing more of your pretty moans, making him dizzy with need. He’d take his time another time, he decided, needing to be inside you. Needing you to be ready for that. His hands wandered down the softness of your torso, and you leaned back in his lap to watch as one of his hands braced itself on your thigh, holding it further open, the other touching you where you needed it.
You shuddered, thighs instinctively shifting to close, but he resisted. He stroked up and down your folds, spreading your slick. When he continued his teasing, you impatiently grasped his wrist, setting him where you wanted. He thumbed at your clit, massaging circles into it, causing your back to arch.
His touch was gentle but skilled, pulling an orgasm from you before you could truly sit with the pleasure. Your legs shook, chest heaving, but before you could worry about the haste of it, Azriel was unbuckling his pants, freeing himself.
Through the haze of your pleasure, your jaw fell slack at the size of him. You met his gaze, nervous suddenly. He only gauged you. “You can do it,” he rasped.
You swallowed, nodding. He seemed inclined to sit back and watch you take him, making no move to rise. Perhaps this was his way of making it less intimidating, you thought.
Azriel’s intentions were in fact less benevolent. With you finally at his mercy, falling apart in his lap and baring yourself to him after all his wanting and waiting, he was suddenly overcome with the need to feel the labour of this coupling. Not in the carnal sense—beyond the pleasure, he needed this to be stamped into your body.
He loved you, but right now he wanted you to work for your pleasure like you’d made him work for his devotion, his sanity. His patience and worry. That you asked Rhys for help this morning instead of him. That you made him lose his grip on his control so viscerally.
So he said, “Take what you want.”
You rose on shaky legs, hands braced sweetly on his shoulders as you guided yourself closer to him, legs spread on either side of his hips. You reached down, lining him up and began sinking.
At the immediate pinch between your brows, Azriel knew it hurt you, that the stretch was difficult. Yet you were trying to take it for him. You were so tight around him, so snug it had him heaving. “Good girl,” he muttered and felt you sink a little easier at that. You whimpered.
When you were halfway down on him, you paused, panting softly, meeting his gaze. The innocent pleading in them had Azriel nearly breaking his resolve. He thumbed at your clit again, moving his grip from your thighs to your hips to ease you down. When you finally sank all the way, you were shaking enough for Azriel to let up, to lean forward and kiss you. He was struggling to remain still in the wake of your vice grip, to keep himself from fucking you, but he knew you needed the reprieve.
He kissed you for as long as you needed, continued to massage pleasure back into you as you adjusted in his lap. When you finally relaxed against him, he sat back against the headboard to watch you move. With your hands still on his shoulders, you began hauling yourself up and down onto him, wincing each time he bottomed out. You felt so good around him that he could barely breathe.
You still struggled to ride him. The sheer size of him making it difficult to rise fully, and your legs were close to giving out. “Azzy,” you whimpered, pouting at him terribly.
Oh.
His sweet, lovely girl. “Aww,” he couldn’t help but coo. He frowned in disbelief at his own cruelty, making you take him all on your own like that. “I’m sorry, angel.” He gripped your thighs around your ass, taking over. You gasped as he began guiding your body up and down his length with an ease that stole your breath again. He hauled you up and let you sink down at a relaxed pace, seeing how closely you teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. “So good for me, right baby?”
“Mhm,” your eyes were falling shut, the pleasure drawing your brows together in a concentrated pinch as you let him fuck you onto him. You relaxed further into his hold, winding your hips forward and back, and he began moving faster.
One of his hands shifted to your throat, gripping it gently but firmly, making your eyes flash to his. “Say you’re mine,” he spoke lowly.   
Your hand wrapped around his wrist lovingly. “I’m yours, Azzy.” He could tell you were close again from the breathy pitch.
“My bride,” he corrected.
You gasped, shifting forward as he hit a spot deep inside that had your rhythm stuttering. “Your bride,” you panted.
“That’s fucking right,” he said, shifting forward so you fell back into the bed. With your legs open, he returned his grip to your throat and plunged inside you again, making you moan. He fucked you more firmly despite the slide of your tight entrance making it nearly difficult. You gripped his wrist with both your hands now, and when your nails dug into his skin, he knew you’d fall apart.
You gasped, mouth agape and soundless as you shuddered through your climax, clamping your legs around his tightly until they fell open again as the pleasure coiled and released. He pulled out to give you a moment to catch your breath, knowing he was being rough.
Though every bone in his body ached to cover you like a shadow, to press his skin on yours and only let up when you needed to breathe, to kiss you and show you he loved you, he rose to witness the sight of you.
Bare and spread for him.
If not for the threat of potentially scaring you off, he’d have tied your wrists to each bedpost and kept you here. All his for all time. To claim and fuck as he pleased.
You were breathing hard, shifting restlessly on the bed, waiting for him to bury himself in you. It seemed you and Azriel kept returning to the act of burial, whether earthly or bodily.
“Azriel,” you breathed, grounding him. He grasped your knees where they lay on either side of him and gently plied them further apart, bending them up to allow him to look at your swollen sex. You blushed when you realized what he was doing, turning to bury your head in the pillow, but Azriel couldn’t tear his eyes away, admiring the gleam. What he did to your body. Your slick was spilling out of you. He ran his fingers through it. You flinched, still sensitive from release, but he didn’t let up, pushing his fingers into you—just needing to feel you. Your thighs shook as he did.
Azriel was harder than marble and needed to be inside you again.
He lined himself up, and before you had the chance to truly catch your breath, he was plunging again. You gasped, hands finding his chest. Azriel pushed inside, relishing the tight fit. He leaned over you, snaking his arms beneath your back. He rested his weight on his forearms where they pressed between your body and the mattress. His hands found their place on your shoulders, gripping them tightly from beneath. The position allowed him to use your frame to haul you onto his length as he pleased.
He fucked you harder than before, and there was nothing you could do but take it, mouth gaping and brows pinching at the overwhelming control he held. At the ecstasy he thrust into your body that made your head spin. At the utter power contained in his body, the ease with which he moved over you and inside you. You were encompassed by the mass of him, all corded muscles pressing into your torso and thick arms beneath you. You gripped his neck, scratching his skin, listening to the sharp slap of his hips against yours.
He was in your womb, so deep that there was a bite of pain with each thrust, but it was him and you wanted every part of him. The pleasure was so overwhelming that you stopped breathing, body tense as you tried to acclimate to it once again. Azriel rested his forehead on yours, lips brushing against yours. Not kissing you, just breathing against your mouth. You let out a choked whimper. “That’s it,” he growled. “Good girl. You can take it.” You heaved air into your lungs again, surrendering to the hold he had on you, physically and whatever tugged you to him beyond. Surrendered to the pleasure, no longer resisting it even as it stunned every nerve ending.
You relaxed, rode the waves, drowned in them. “Good fucking girl,” he breathed again, feeling the shift to pliability in your body. On a baser level, he understood that you were yielding to him. You were safe with him, and you were his. The urgency in his thrusts calmed, but he shifted his hold, and wrapped his arms around your waist, slotting himself against you. He buried his face in your neck, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
Still soft in his arms, still taking him.
He felt his release cresting but didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want this to end. Your thighs were shaking around his waist. “I’m coming inside you,” he breathed into your hair, making you whimper again.
“Please, please,” you panted. He knew you were nearing your release as well, knew you likely couldn’t take more given how thorough he’d been with you. Azriel reverted to hurried movements, memorizing how he dragged against your walls. How warm and tight you were, still clamping down on him like iron, impossibly tighter as he dragged you closer. Your breathing halted again as release tore through you. You cried out, writhing against him.
The pulsating suction of your climax massaged him inside you, making him shudder. He plunged himself into you, putting all his weight into it, fucking you so deep into the mattress as your tightness crested his pleasure.
He finally stopped moving, releasing his seed deep inside you. It was the longest and hardest he’d ever come, leaving him shaking above you, panting.
You soothed shaky hands down his back, and Azriel finally eased his weight off you. Remaining buried inside you, he shifted his arms to bracket your frame, raising to look at you.
Beneath him, your eyes were droopy but bright as you watched him back. That he found sincere trust in them, that there was softness after all he’d done to you only made his chest ache. You truly did give yourself to him. “I—I don’t want to pull out,” he admitted lowly, voice hoarse.
You stroked his cheeks, hands still unsteady. “Then don’t,” you whispered. Azriel snuck an arm beneath your waist again, this time guiding you to lay on top of him as he turned to rest on his back, careful to keep himself tucked inside you. You gasped, sensitive and overstimulated, but took it patiently as he settled himself into the bed, settlling yourself against his chest. He stroked down your form against him, soothed the tremors in your arms and legs.
Whatever part of him existed before that could bear to be without you was dead. Perhaps this is the burial he’d been haunted by night after night. His immortality rebirthed with his consummated bride. He pulled the sheets over your bodies, kissing the crown of your head.
He’d learn to be with you less intensely, to want you more sanely. But not tonight—tonight, he was finally going to rest in peace, buried with you, buried inside you.
His bride in your marriage bed.
~
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Text
Did you lose her? (Lando Norris)
Maybe it was never a change of heart
Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty with a happy ending, and it's also the first piece that's I've written that's based of a song, Stick Season by Noah Kahan. I hope I did it well enough! 🫶 also, it has smut, and if you have followed me for long enough, you know I don't usually do it, but I think it's these AUS pics 😮‍💨😌🥵
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: curse words, previous break-up and themes related to that, smut (mentions protected sex, hormonal contraception, praise kink if you squint at the whole thing)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed
Doing the food shop was one one of the mundane adult life tasks you actually enjoyed doing. You had some music on your ears and walked along the supermarket, making sure you weren't buying too much outside of your list.
Tomato sauce and two packets of the instant noodles for when you didn't feel like cooking or were in a rush, you told yourself as you browsed through the aisle.
The scent should've been the first give away, but lots of people wore the same perfume. However, not all of them had the characteristic underlying scent that to this day meant comfort.
"Y/N! I wasn't expecting to see you", Cisca said as he placed the item she took from the shelf on her shopping cart, "goodness, how long has it been since we've seen you?", she smiled sadly.
Five months, you thought. One hundred and fifty two days since you and Lando parted ways and you shipped your belongings back to England. You told yourselves it was amicable and that you'd still be there for eachother, but you had published your first article and he had started his season without the other by your side.
"It's been some time, yes. How are you?", you wondered, "we've been good, you know how busy it gets around this time of year. But Savannah had their little girl, Athena - let me show you a picture!", she scrambled her phone out of her bag.
"Oh, how cute!", you cooed at the little baby bundled up in a pink blanket, "Mila is such a good big sister, too!", she showed you a picture with the two of them in Lando's lap, the baby tucked safely into his chest as Mila seemed to be showing him one of her toys.
Gulping and swallowing the tears that threatened to fall, you looked up at her and smiled, "I'm glad everyone is doing good - send Oliver and Sav my congratulations!", you nodded, hoping she would get the hint.
Storing her phone back in her bag, Cisca smiled, resembling the smile that you woke up many times to, "I will, darling. All the best for you, hopefully we'll see you around", she said before rubbing your back soothingly.
You found an aisle without people and allowed yourself to cry. Just for a little bit before you had to go back to pretend it didn't hurt still.
And I'll dream each night of some version of you
That I might not have, but I did not lose
"I'm on the podium, dad!", Lando yelled as he hugged Adam, cackling in excitement as he hugged the team who were there to celebrate and congratulate him.
"Congratulations, baby!", you yelled as Lando turned to hug you, arms going around your waist and pulling you as close as the safety barriers allowed, clicking open his visor so you could look at your favourite eyes in the world.
"I love you so much, Y/N!", he yelled back, winking before he went up to get weighed in.
On the podium, he looked at you like you two were the only people there, smiling up at him as he blew you a kiss.
"I knew you'd be on the podium, baby", you smiled once you were back in his driver's room, "How are you so sure?", he wondered, kissing your neck soflty.
"The development they're doing, your talent, Lando, I knew it was going to happen, and from now on, you better get used to being up there every single weekend", you smirked, kissing from his throat to his jaw and up to his lips, humming when his tongue poked at your lips begging for entrance.
It was hot and he was sweaty. His phone read 4:30am as he stood up against the headboard, finding the light switch so he wouldn't walk around the hotel room in complete darkness.
It was the third night in a row you showed up in his dreams. The first time, it was subtle as he dreamed about flying on plane and he was sure you were there. The past two, however, had you in there as a main character. He dreamed of walking in the paddock with you, of having you there to comfort him and knock some sense in his head when his P4 in qualifying didn't feel enough, and now you were celebrating his podium.
It's weird how his brain went there, how his arms and face felt like they had truly been holding you despite not having done it in months. Muscle memory betrayed, he thought as he poured himself some water and took little sips of it as he looked outside the window.
Fuck, he missed you. And not just for these big moments where he was on a high and wanted to share it with you or when he was do low you were the only person that could make him crawl out of the dark hole he snuck himself into. It's when he's making his bed back home and the other pillow remains fluffed because no one's using it, it's the mug you left behind and he doesn't have the courage to send back to you or give to someone else or when he sees something that reminds him of you and he gets it, hoping one day he can get them to you.
You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back
Lando sighed again as the call went to voicemail. It was the third time it happened in the last couple of hours. It was media day at Suzuka and they were having lunch.
"You know it's 3 am back in England, right?", Oscar asked bluntly, "when we were having breakfast, sure, you might have got hold of her if she was doing a late night, but I think you should wait", he reasoned.
Oscar was right. He didn't want to risk it waking you up even though he was sure your phone was on silent since you loved your sleep dearly.
"I hate this", Lando muttered, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Oscar was aware of some of what had happened between Lando and you. The start of the season always came with new gossip and this one's was filled with rumours and conspiracy theories about the paddock's sweetheart and young couple.
Lando started driving in Formula One when he was nineteen, so they had seen his grow up through the years along with your relationship. At first, you were pinned down as his sister, then a best friend when they realised you didn't share genetics, and then you were his girlfriend. The lingering touches and big smiles they caught never rushed you to admit your feelings or put a label on your relationship, but everyone was there when you walked hand in hand on the paddock and confirmed the suspicions they had for months. Lando Norris and his best friend were in love and they all felt like proud parents as they watched you support him unconditionally every time you could.
"Did you lose her?", Oscar quesioned his team-mate as he picked on the food on his plate.
"I don't have her with me, have I?", Lando snapped and regretted it almost immediately.
Oscar put it down to tiredness, jet lag and the fact that he seemed a bit lost on how he was navigating the situation, "What I'm saying is, did you lose her? Did you do your absolute best to keep her with you?", he said sternly, "Used all of the options and possibilities and it still didn't work out? You don't lose someone because things fell apart in a stressful situation", he reasoned.
He was young but not dumb, truly.
"Feels like I have though", Lando added.
"What I'm saying is if you really want to know how she is and if you want to have an honest conversation with her, you have to make an effort. Not just calling and asking your mother to see if she's spotted her lately, or your sisters to check in your circle of friends whether or not she has moved on", Oscar lectured.
"Do you think I can do it? Do I have what it takes?", Lando confessed his doubts out loud. One of the reasons he had yet to act on it was because having a second chance wasn't for everyone and he needed to make sure it went perfect. You deserved that.
"You're a Formula One driver with deep pockets and a massive heart that still belongs to someone. What can't you do?", the young australian driver mused before he got up, taking his plate with him and leaving Lando pondering about what to do next.
I hope this pain's just passin' through
You sang loudly as you dusted the living room shelves, windows open to let the autumn air in. While cleaning wasn't your favourite thing to do, you had woken up with an urge to clean and given that it happened very rarely, you were taking it in stride.
So far, you found a receipt of a pair of jeans you were meant to return but gave your friends instead, a concert ticket and a bigger amount of dust than you'd like to admit. When you pulled the fabric strap, though, you knew that you wouldn't want to get rid of it. The lanyard belonged to one of the passes for one of the Grand Prix weekend you went to see Lando. Inspecting it closer, you realised it was his second home race, the Polaroid picture attached to it confirming the date.
It started with you joking about the fact that the pass was not the prettiest, so Lando hunted down the paddock to find a Polaroid camera, snapping a picture of you two and pinching a hole on it so you could carry it around and cover the supposed ugly pass. The photo was still intact, just a little dusty as you wiped it with your sleeve. Lando was kissing your cheek as you smiled impossibly big, eyes squinty and smile beaming because of the guy whose lips were on your cheek.
A single teardrop fell on the plastic covered paper before a few more followed as you sat down, looking at what you had once been and how things were right now. The missed calls on your phone led you to believe that maybe he still felt something too, but the potential heartache of trying again and it not working would hurt more than it already does.
The vibration from watch caught your attention as you read the two notifications. One from your e-mail with Qatar Airways written in bold and a text from Lando.
Qatar Airways
Thank you for choosing to fly with Qatar Airways!
Lando ✨️
I need you here with me, Y/N, please
I made the flight reservation for you, they will hold the ticket until two hours before the flight leaves, you just have to confirm with your passport ❤️
You promised me that I was more than all the miles combined
Heathrow Airport, 7th October 2023, 6:30 am.
You couldn't back out now, that would mean Lando would lose the money he spent to get you here in the first place. It wasn't by all means quiet, but your thoughts were loud enough.
You shouldn't be here. Why were you here? Why did you accept this, Y/N?
Because Lando needed you there.
Simple as that.
Boarding the flight, you smiled and thanked as the flight attendant pointed to the area where your seat was and where you would spend the next six hours and a half.
"I'm sorry, our seats are by the window", a woman in her thirties said as she bounced a little girl on her hip, making you get up so she could get to it, "thank you", she smiled, sitting down and buclking herself and her daughter to her body.
"Lyla, you can't go pulling on other people's clothes - I'm so sorry", she apoligised as the little girl pulled on your shirt's detailed button buckle.
"No worries, I know how restless they can get. You do the best for your baby. You're only responsible for yours and her emotions, no one else's on this plane", you offered her, remembering the times you would take flights and fully grown adults would go up to a stressed parent to let them know they could hear their crying child as if the parents themselves didn't know.
"My husband is somewhere in there, too", she chuckled, sometimes I feel I'm responsible for his too - accountantable in a way at least", she chuckled.
"You weren't able to sit together?", you wondered.
"My husband planned the weekend to go watch a race and come back, but we found some holiday days and we decided on a spontaneous trip. This was the only seat left they had", she explained.
"I can change seats if you want", you offered, "I'm flying on my own and I'll get to the destination all the same", you giggled.
"You wouldn't mind?", she asked, relief settling over her as she tried to see her husband, waving at him to come closer as you touched the button to call the flight attendant as the passengers were all sat down on your section.
"This lovely young woman says she doesn't mind switching seats with you", she said to her husband as you spoke to the flight attendant.
"No, there's no problem with that if you both agree", the flight attendant smiled as you got up, ignoring the frown on the man next to you who had to get up so you could swap, "bye bye, Lyla!", you waved at the little girl before her parents thanked you once again.
Finding your new seat, you put your bag under the seat in front and sat down, excusing yourself to the older couple next to you, "I just swapped seats with the gentleman that was here, I'm sorry", you smiled, hoping they wouldn't be too mad.
"Oh, he was able to sit with his family after all - I told you, Harold!", the lady winked at her husband, "I'm Francesca, you can call me Fran", she said sweetly.
Despite the early flight, they both seemed to be full of energy as they started telling you stories of their life and family, showing pictures of their kids and grandkids.
"One day you'll have all of that with the person you love, darling - if that's something you want, of course!", Harold peeped in, "our granddaughters are always telling me not everyone wants the same things!", he chuckled softly.
"It's okay - I would like that, actually", you smiled sadly as Francesca landed her hand on top of yours.
"Why does that sound like a confused heart, dear?", she commented, reading you like a book. The flight was closer to be three quarters of the way to the destination, so you still had some time to kill.
"A little bit; I'm actually flying over to see the person who still has this confused heart", you mumbled.
"Your eyes sparkle when you talk about him, dear - something tells me he's going to 'unconfuse' your heart", she smiled, "tell me about him".
"Godness", you chuckled, "He's kind, respectful, honest, goofy, cute, charming, loving, he's all that is good. We just lost our way, I think", you recalled, smiling at the thought of him.
"You'll find it back, dear. Life has mysterious ways but it has the right ways - I like to believe it does, anyway", the older lady assured, squeezing your hand in hers.
Waving goodbye to Harold and Francesca when you found the taxi bay, you requested to be taken to the paddock.
When you got there, you payed the kind driver before he helped you take your suitcase from the boot, "enjoy the race!", he smiled.
You were thankful all eyes were on the track already, making you cross the whole paddock and step into McLaren's hospitality quickly after collecting your pass.
"Y/N!", Zak said as he was the first person to spot you, "you're here, you came!", he smiled, hugging you tightly, "we're all very happy you're here", he said as he asked one of the team members to store your suitcases somewhere appropriate before leading you to the corridor to the drivers' rooms.
"Lando is inside, and the race starts in less than ninety minutes, so you won't talk all you need to, but it's a good start", he said, knocking on the door before he left.
When Lando heard the knock, he hoped it was you. Sophie and Oscar were great people, but in the last hour, everytime he opened the door, theirs were the faces he saw instead of yours.
"Y/N", he welcomed you into his room before closing the door, "I hope it's okay that I flew you here, thank you for coming", he said as he hesitated on giving you a hug.
Taking a step forward, you laced your arms around his waist as he did the same around your shoulders, inhaling eachother's scent and feeling like a weight was lifted off both of you, "I missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered before you pulled apart.
"It's not the first time you've done that for me", you fumbled with your hands, "although I was very surprised. We haven't spoken to eachother in some time, Lando", you sterned.
"Not because I didn't try", he bit bat with an ironic chuckle, "Why did you come here then?", he defended, taking your words as immediate offense and not taking a second to process them properly.
"Because even though we're not together anymore, you matter to me. I care about you! I'm not sure what monster you depict me as or that you imagine I've turned into, but I wouldn't dream of wishing you misery! If you call me and tell me you need me here, I'll be here because I care about you!", you snapped, "you have no idea how many times I wanted to give up and cancel this! Why am I here, Lando?", you asked.
You didn't expect him to react that way, not that you had a much better reaction anyway.
"Fuck, this is not how we do this", you took a deep breath as Lando held your hands in his, mimicking your movements as he did the same. Three long deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that", Lando began, hands laced on yours still, "thank you for bring here, I needed you here because there's no one else in the world that can make me feel comfortable like you do, and I need that. I need to feel like myself - and I know it's a selfish ask to make you get up and drop your things to be here with me but-", you interrupted him.
"It's okay, Lando, you're okay", you cooed, searching for his eyes and hoping you'd get the message your mouth was failing to say through.
You pulled him to sit in front of you in the massage table, "I've been seeing all the podiums you've been getting - the team have done such a great job developing, and your talent and skills have brought it to the podium", you tried a lighter subject even though you were 99% sure of his worries.
"Oscar still qualified above me", he began, "He's a rookie and he's managed to do in months what I haven't done in five years", he allowed himself to express his feelings. After all, it was you.
"Oscar is not driving a tractor like you were", you shrugged your shoulders as Lando laughed.
"For someone who was invited last minute and got a pretty good pass, I'm not sure how the team would feel about you talking like that", he smirked, hand finding your own as he rubbed his thumb on your palm.
"I'm only telling the truth", you smiled, "and I mean it. I know how this sport works, but you shouldn't compare yourself to your teammate when the circumstances are so different", you mused.
"The team have been great and they still haven't said anything", he reasoned.
"Of course they haven't because it's something that happens, Lando. I was watching the highlights and so many drivers went over the limits because that's how this track goes", you stated, "there's only so much you can do and you shouldn't put all that pressure on yourself", you tsked, "I know you do, but you shouldn't", you smiled.
"You always know what to say, don't you?", he chuckled, "I have an inkling on how this here works", you winked and tapped his head with your free hand.
A knock on the door interrupted your moment as Jon opened it right after, "Lando, we need to start prepping for the sprint", he said before he turned to you, "Hi Y/N, good to have you back!", he smiled before he let you finish what you were doing.
"I should go, then", Lando trailed off, "are you going to browse around the paddock? I bet a lot of people miss you and your face here", he nudged.
"I came here for you, I don't care about anyone else", you smiled as you leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek for a few seconds, smiling against his warm skin before grabbing your bag and walking out.
Most of the team must've known you were coming since not many of them took a second look whenever you greeted them or entered a different area.
One of the media girls got you a set of headphones as she stood next to you, Oscar and Lando getting ready to go to the track.
His routine hadn't changed as your eyes followed him while he got dressed appropriately and safely for the race.
Before Lando put his helmet on he looked back at you, winking and smiling when you winked back.
When the gap wasn't closing in, you knew Lando would be disappointed with P3, not because of the place itself but because his team-mate had done better.
As you moved to a better spot to watch the interviews on the media pen, your heart felt like someone was using it like a trampoline, jumping and stomping on it as Lando spoke about himself with such a negative tone.
Surely, the interviewers were fishing for answers with biased questions and his mind took him there.
As you waited for him to be back to the hospitality, you got yourself something to eat, realising you hadn't done it since the plane.
Lando was beating himself up and he couldn't shake the bad mood he was in even when he thought you had travelled to see him and be there for him.
As Sophie gave him a quick debrief about his interviews, he stepped into his driver's room so he could have a quick shower and then head to the team debrief.
"It wouldn't hurt going up to her, you know?", Jon told him, ready to take any harsh words first if it meant you didn't hear them.
"I know it wouldn't, I'm just going to eat something and then I'll join the debrief with the rest of the team", Lando mumbled as he walked up to you.
"Hey", he said sitting down on the sofa next to you.
"Hey, Lando", you said, testing the waters and approaching his body until you rested your head on his shoulder.
"You are going to get your win, Lando. It's going to be an amazing weekend and it's going to be your first. Surely important, but you'll be a race winner and go on to the next race", you said as he seemed to be unsure of the tone you were going for, "as that will be a big moment in a long career - because it won't define it - this doesn't define you either, as a person and as a driver", you concluded, hoping to bring a little bit of his confidence and self-esteem back up a little.
"And you're going to be there?", he asked. He was feeling like shit and needed to know. It wasn't fair, but he needed to know.
"I can't make promises like that, not before we speak properly", you remarked, looking up at him from where you were, kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand in yours, "do you want me to stay here or should I go back to the hotel?", you asked. It wasn't the right time or the right place to talk about it.
"Could you stay here, please?", he said as you took your book out of your bag, knowing it would run long and you'd need some entertainment as there was only so much catching up you could do with the team when they're suppose to be working.
"I will, then", you said as Lando took the plunge and kissed the top of your head.
Ten chapters and a tea later, Lando tapped your shoulders, "I'm finished, are we ready to go?", he asked as you got up accepting his hand to hold as you walked out of the hospitality, grabbing your suitcase from the storage room and bidding goodbye to the team.
"I couldn't get a separate room for you, but the room I'm staying in has this living room area and the sofa opens into a bed, they said it's really comfy and they also left an extra mattress topper and some blankets", Lando said as he drove, "in case you didn't feel comfortable, I- I just want you to feel comfortable", he emphasised nervously.
"Lando, you don't need to walk on eggshells, okay? It's me", you smiled reassuringly as he stole a quick look at you before focusing back on the road, "sounds like a nice solution, fine by me", you reassured him.
Leaving the car to the valet and taking the lift up with you, you stayed silent until you were inside the hotel room, "That's the bedroom area, bathroom's here - and it has a double sink - and then the living room", Lando patted the extra linen folded on the sofa.
"Thank you", you assented, "would you like to talk now or is it bad timing? You must be tired f,-".
"Yes, please", he agreed immediately sitting on the sofa and making room for you to sit in front of him.
"I don't know where to begin", you observed after a while, "it's been tough being without you - I have been so used to having you there for me and to be there for you that nothing quite has the same meaning. I can live without you - barely, but I can -, that's not the question, but I don't want to", you manifested.
"We ended things because we had to, and it did us both well to see from another perspective - that's what it felt for me anyway -, but I want to be with you and to have you with me", he elaborated, "I don't care if you have to spend more time back home because of the distance, or come with me to the races because of the distance, too, I-".
"It was never about the distance, Lando", you interjected. You both used that excuse way too many times but deep down you knew it wasn't because of it.
"We'll work it out then", Lando suggested, "we'll work on us because knowing eachother doesn't mean we don't have to put ourselves first and keep investing on our relationship. I value you so much Y/N, I love you so much and I want to do this right", he whispered as if he spoke any louder would disturb the moment.
"I love you too", you smiled as you laced your hands together, "we'll work on it, together".
It was already late so Lando offered you the bathroom so you could shower and do your night routine first and then make the sofa bed to your liking while he did his night routine.
"Good night, angel", Lando said after you hugged him goodnight, kissing the top of your head before letting you lie down first since the light on his bedside table was the only one illuminating the room.
After you cocooned yourself in the sheets comfortably, you spoke up, "Lando, I'm sorry I didn't answer back sooner", you apoligised.
"It's okay, love, you don't have to worry about that", he cooed softly and you could hear the smile on his voice.
"I know it's not, but thank you for making me feel better about it, goodnight", you smiled, feeling hopeful about it.
The next morning, you were woken up by the noise coming from the bathroom, assuming Lando was showering inside as you stretched, surprised at how well you slept. Maybe the bedding was genuinely nice, the sofa bed wasn't bad to begin with, especially considering the hotel you were staying in, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in months, you fell asleep knowing the person who your heart belonged to was more than happy to let you keep his, too, and he was in the same space as you.
"Good morning, beautiful", Lando smiled as he noticed you were awake already, "did you sleep well?".
"Good morning, Lan", you yawned, "I did, really well, actually. At what time do we have to be at the track?", you wondered. It was a night race, so the call up was later than usual.
"I'm leaving after breakfast, but you can stay and head there later if you want", Lando declared as you walked up to him, "I just need to freshen up and get ready", you smiled, kissing his cheek and heading for the bathroom with your clothes.
As soon as you arrived at the track, you took one of the back entrances as you knew Lando would spend some time with the fans and other drivers he bumped into, finding a nice spot on the lounge and going back to your book.
"I'm going to start race prep", Lando stopped by you in the lounge after a quick meeting, "I probably won't talk to you much until afterwards so I just came to check on you", he reasoned.
Getting up, you moved to one of the corridors, leaning up to kiss his forehead softly, "Good luck, my love, you're going to do so well, I know it", you smiled against his skin.
"I have my lucky charm with me", he smirked, kissing the top of your head before he got back to Jon.
From P10 to P3, Lando had an eventful race. Fortunately, and compared to the rest of the grid, he seemed to be doing fairly well as he stood in front of AC Units while replenishing the water he lost during the fifty-seven laps.
"I'm so proud of you!", you cooed as he got back to the garage, shaking hands with all the mechanics and engineers before he got to you. You hugged his sweaty body, not caring about it as long as you felt his close to you.
"They're postponing race debrief so I'm going to shower quickly and then we can get going, beautiful", he smiled, kissing a spot on your cheek very close to your lips.
Smiling giddily, you went to the bar area to get a bottle of water for yourself as Sophie walked last you, "seems like we will be seeing a lot more of you again soon - maybe Zak can also hire you as our lucky charm!", she winked as you shook your head, blood rushing to your cheeks at her words.
Back in the hotel room, it was your turn to freshen up and get ready to sleep. The spirits were high and you were feeling like the wait time was over. Your heart was healed enough as you sat on Lando's bed, "I'm so proud of you, you had an incredible drive tonight", you smiled as you moved closer to him as he sat on the edge, back against the headboard and one leg on the mattress while the other hung beside the mattress.
"It felt so good", he smiled, "thank you for supporting me", he cupped your cheek as he silently asked you for permission to kiss your lips. Lando couldn't waste anymore time as he pulled you to him so he could kiss you properly, your legs on either side of his as you straddled him, revelling in the feeling of being in eachother's hold as your hands played with his hair while his held your waist.
"As much as I'd love to continue this, I'm exhausted, baby", he rubbed your thighs, "it's okay, my love, I wasn't thinking of letting you do anything else anyway", you smiled, kissing his nose softly before you got on one knee so you could flop to the side and land on the mattress.
"Sleep here, yes?", he mused and you nodded, undoing the bed and getting under the sheets, his arm holding you to him and making sure he didn't let go.
As if you'd leave anyway.
4.30am and Lando woke up again. This time however, the sight he longed to see was right there. The you he had and had got back, cuddled up to his chest as your leg was hoisted up on top of his own and very close to his aching cock.
As he tried to change the angle so every time you moved, your smooth skin wouldn't pratically tease him, you stirred in your sleep, eyes opening as he tried to adjust your knee.
"Is everything alright, baby? Am I hurting you?", you said as you recoiled from his body.
"No, angel, no!", he quickly guaranteed, "I'm sorry I woke you up, it's just that your knee was very close to me and I was having a hard time dealing with it".
"A hard time indeed", you snickered as you felt his hard-on strained on his Calvin Kleins. Dating after being friends for so long brought an easy joking side to your relationship so much easier and funnier as you wouldn't get offended with most of what you said to eachother, "need help with that?", you smirked.
"But I wanted to treat you", Lando pouted, "Can I, gorgeous girl?", he whispered as he kissed up your neck once you whispered "yes", hands roaming on your body as he pulled up your nightshirt, finding your nipples and twisting them slightly to work your body up the way you did with his.
Your sighs and whimpers let him know he was doing a good job as undressed your torso, littering small kissed from your throat to your tummy, "you're so gorgeous, Y/N, I can't believe you're mine", he said as he blew a raspberry on your tummy, earning giggles from you before he licked up a stripe near your panties line.
"You know how much I like it when you wear your pink panties", he voiced as he touched you over the cotton fabric, feeling you pulsate already, "Do you like it when I tease you over your pink panties, baby?".
"Yes", you scrambled out betwen moans and deep breaths, "Oh my Goodness, princess", he cooed as you squirmed, "You want me to fill this pussy up?", he wondered as you let out a yes followed but a deep mewling sound.
"Let me take a little peek, then", as his fingers pushed the fabric down, a string of wetness caught in the material as he smiled, "Oh my Goodness, look at this pretty little pink pussy", he kisses your clit, "all of you, you're se beautiful, baby".
Rubbing the inside of your thighs with his thumbs, pressing the soft skin as he got rid of your underwear, "Are you going to let me fill you up?", he asked as he wouldn't do it without consent.
"Yes, please do it, Lan", you moaned, hand looking for his own to hold.
"You don't need to say please, my love - here", he whispered as he laced your hands together, "you'll always have me, you hear me? I'm yours, sweet girl", he smiled.
His hand that wasn't securely laced in yours helped you take his underwear off before he came back up to kiss your lips softly.
"Does it feel good when I tease your clit like that, gorgeous?", he smirked as he ran the tip of his cock in your sensitive bud, "Yes - uhg, baby", you gasped, looking into his eyes and swearing you could get lost in them had you not been in such a state of arousal as you were.
"You look so pretty like this, my beautiful, sweet girl", he praised as he saw your twitches and heard your moans at his words, "we need protection, though", he stated.
"I'm good, didn't see anyone else - you?", you wondered as he shook his head, "didn't see anyone else either - condom?", he asked, making you nod and separate so he could get it from his toiletries bag. Hormonal contraception left you feeling worse that it made your life easier, so you and Lando always used condoms.
Rolling it down his shaft, Lando climbed back in the bed and kissed your lips, adjusting himself before he entered you.
You whimpered as Lando slid inside you, a low groan escaping from his throat as he gently slid, taking your hand back in his and resting them next to your head on the pillow.
"You feel so good for me, sweet girl, so wet so warm, so good - aah", he breathed out, "so tight, my sweet sweet girl", he squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of your walls squeezing him.
You stretched your arm out enough to pull his face closer to yours, kissing his jaw and then his lips before whispering "you can move, love".
Lando pulled back slowly, thrusting in gently to begin with and savouring how you felt around him.
"I love you", you muttered into his neck between moans as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you faster, harder and deeper.
"I'm close", Lando groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, his hand crawling between your bodies and drawing lazy circles on your clit to get you to your release.
"Me too, feels so good, I feel so good", you moaned out, a high pitch one particularly when you felt the band was about to snap.
“My sweet girl, my beautiful sweet girl, are you going to come for me?”, Lando worked you up as your body started to show signs of it, "let go, my love, I'm here, I've got you”, he soothed, still gently rubbing your clit with one hand and keeping hold of the other.
Your back arched, sensitive nipples rubbing against his skin, as you came with a high-pitched whine, nuzzling your face on his thick neck as you came undone around him. Lando came soon after, his hand that was not holding yours groping your waist as he groaned.
“Good, sweet girl, that was good, you did so well for me. I’ve got you, it's okay", he assured as he felt you flutter around him, probably from overstimulation considering neither of you had been with anyone else and you hadn't slept a full night yet, the tiredness he felt also a cause for how quickly he finished.
Lando kissed your forehead sweetly before he pulled out, getting up and throwing out the condom on the bathroom bin before he cane back to you on the bed.
"Let's put this on, yeah?", he whispered soflty as he helped you put on his linen shirt, buttoning it enough to let you breathe but still feel hugged by the fabric, and then a clean pair of underwear he got from your suitcase.
Before he laid in bed with you again, he put on his own underwear, pulling you to his arms and then pulling the crisp white covers over you.
"Do you feel good, baby?", he asked once you were cuddled up to him, "yes, I do", you smiled, a mixture of post sex glow and being back in his arms.
"Thank you for not giving up on us, I love you, sweet girl", Lando said as he played with your fingers, bringing them up to his mouth so he could kiss every single one of them, "you're the best thing in my life", he mumbled, letting you drift off to sleep.
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cowboyellies · 8 months
Text
- You’re Not Good Enough | e.w.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you keep on coming back,
i keep letting you in
pairing: college player!ellie x fem college!reader
warnings/themes: angst, ellie is v emotionally unavailable (my type <3), she's a teensy bit manipulative, reader mentions past toxic relationship, slight smut, heavy making out (in public), fingering r! receiving, mentions of oral sex r! receiving
word count: 3.8k
synopsis: ellie ends things with you and quickly finds that the hold you have on her is much stronger than she thought. when she sees you a month later at a house party she tries to change things.
a/n: hello!!! i'm pretty proud of this so I hope you guys enjoy :) also this is based off of one of my favorite songs so I recommend listening to it while you read
PART TWO
“I think we should call it” she said as your eyes were glued to your phone, aimlessly scrolling while laying on her beat up couch. you switched off your phone directing your attention to her, confused by her question. you noticed then she was sitting with her head in her hands, gripping the roots of her short auburn hair.
“what?” you asked meekly, sitting up now. you already knew what she meant but you needed to make sure anyway.
“I just think we should probably stop whatever this is, it’s too much for right now,” she mumbled to the floor, still not making eye contact with you. you felt your heart drop suddenly and the familiar prickle hitting your eyes. you had felt so secure just moments ago, so comfortable, now you just felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment. you were embarrassed over the fact that this was all a shock to you.
earlier in the night as you laid naked in her bed you realized you were probably falling in love with her. you thought in that moment as you breathed heavily next to each other that she was feeling the same way. now come to find out that she was probably already planning on ending it then. the sex that you thought was the start of something deeper was just her final goodbye to you, that’s why it felt so fucking good.
looking at her now with her body slumped over in tiredness you thought back to the way she phrased it. “we should call it” as if it was a group effort. as if she wasn’t the one dumping you. you had been dumped once before and they had used the same phrasing that she did. that first time you begged and pleaded with them to reconsider. you cried at their feet begging for one more chance, willing them to change their mind and stay. as you stared at ellie’s slouched over frame you remembered the painful embarrassment you felt begging for someone who didn’t want you back.
that bitter memory is what stopped the tears from falling out of your eyes. you let out a hardened sigh and stood up from the couch. “okay, if that’s what you want,”
ellie looked up suddenly, shocked by the casualty of your tone. she was bracing herself for the screaming, the last thing she ever expected from you was compliance. she had completed this cycle with girls before and the fallout was always a mix of yelling and lots of tears, a few had even thrown things. she could have sworn she heard your voice wavering just moments ago but now you seemed fine.
“what?” she questioned. genuinely not prepared for this level of calm.
“I said okay? if that’s what you want I can’t change that,” she was looking at you closely now. your face was hard but not necessarily mad. you looked like an entirely different person than the girl that was laughing on her bed just an hour before. the you standing in front of her now looked miles away.
once you realized she wasn’t saying anything else you began collecting your things you had left around her apartment. in your last breakup amongst the crying and dramatics you had left your favorite hoodie there and you didn’t want that to happen again. ellie followed you to the doorway of her bedroom where you were now grabbing your belongings, her eyes following you still in shock. you felt satisfaction from the way you were rattling her but most of you was just moving on autopilot, shutting your feelings off until you were away from her apartment and could finally burst.
once you had shoved everything of yours into a bag you made your way to the door. as your hand was on the knob you felt ellie’s on your shoulder, the feeling of her touch grounding you back into what was happening, causing your body to stiffen.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. you were feeling it all now, the weight of it was starting to crush you and you feared if you turned to face her you would start crying for real that time. so instead of replying you opened the door and left, letting out heavy sobs as you walked to your car.
ellie stood at the doorway for a while after you left, mulling over everything that had just happened. she knew this was her ideal scenario. she could never have dreamed of a smoother break. especially when she knew you were both starting to develop intense feelings for each other, which was the reason she ended things in the first place. she knew she should feel relief now but the look on your face was haunting her. she realized then that she had taken away your softness. instead of feeling the freedom she desired she now felt an insurmountable wave of guilt.
over a month after you and ellie’s breakup, if you could even call it that, you now find yourself sitting on a couch at a crowded house party flirting with a random girl. you had wallowed in the pain of ellie ending things for a solid two weeks and had recently decided you finally needed to get back to being a functioning member of society. after your last break up you didn’t go out for six months afterwards and you were determined to break that cycle.
so now here you were in your little black dress and denim jacket listening to this girl talk about a concert she had just gone too while you made prolonged and flirty eye contact with her. this was new territory since in all of your past relationships you tended to be the girl blabbering away about something instead of being the one pretending to listen. this time around you were going to make sure you wouldn’t be the one getting naively attached.
ellie stood sourly outside of the party dreading whatever would meet her behind those doors. dina had practically forced her to come out tonight and she had absolutely no desire to be there. she expected herself to resume her usual role in casual hookup culture but something had been stopping her.
she had decided to end things with you when one day she realized you were the first thing she thought of when she woke up in the morning. it was a random tuesday and when she checked the clock she remembered you said you had class at that time. that immediate correlation to you was such a foreign feeling that it terrified her. she wasn’t used to caring for anyone but herself and hadn’t been in a long time. she found herself missing the comfortableness of fucking someone and never calling them again. she assumed that's what she’d be doing after you left her apartment that night but found she couldn’t.
in the month that you’d been apart she had done the unthinkable for her. she found herself drafting texts to you and not sending them. she hovered over your number multiple times toying with the thought of calling you but never doing it. she even made it a habit of stalking your instagram. she saw one night you went to a club with your friends and she felt strangely nauseous. she hated it. she hated being the stalker when she was so used to being the one being stalked. it made her loathe you and miss you all the same.
she finally made her way into the house immediately heading towards the liquor table. she knew she needed to alter her brain chemistry quickly if she was ever gonna make it through the night. after downing a drink she turned her head to look for dina and suddenly heard a sound she was all too familiar with.
you were still sitting on the couch but now you were just centimeters away from the random girl. you let out a loud giggle over something she said but you weren’t sure if you actually thought it was funny or if you just wanted to get in her pants. the answer to that question didn’t really matter because you suddenly felt her hand resting on your leg and knew you had succeeded. she slowly leans towards the side of your face adjusting your hair to whisper in your ear “I’m gonna get us some more drinks”
you smile softly at her and nod your head as she rises towards the kitchen. your eyes trail her hungrily when suddenly she brushes past a figure that quickly catches your attention. ellie's standing there tightly gripping her red solo cup staring at you. her jaw is lightly clenched in the way it does when she's mad but trying not to show it. you feel your posture stiffen from it’s previously relaxed position and all the carefree charisma you had been trying to channel all night is instantly sucked out of you.
after a minute of intense eye contact she begins making her way to the couch. your fight or flight kicks in and suddenly you began pulling yourself off of it. you instantly don't care at all about the cute girl in the kitchen pouring you a drink, you want to get out of there now. ellie picks up on your movement and begins following you outside. after making your way through the house you realize you won't be able to get away from her without causing a scene so you eventually decide to just stop in a more reserved part of the backyard, landing the two of you under an oak tree.
“what do you want?” you immediately ask her as soon as she reaches you. the tone of your voice isn't mad, just tired, and it kills her. she would rather you be angry, she wants you to be angry. she just stands for a while trying to think of what to say
“I just… I just wanted to talk,” she finally settles on. she knows it sounds lame but it's the truth. you sigh in resignation, leaning your back against the trunk of the tree while she figures out what to say to you. she isn't used to chasing people and doesn't know how to do it without sounding like a desperate loser. before she ended things you seemed to always be at her beck and call, now you want nothing to do with her. she leans her hand on the wood next to your shoulder, staring down at you before she speaks again, your eyes shifting downward in response, trying to avoid any level of intimacy with her you can. “I guess I just miss you and I want to see how you’re doing,”
you let out a dry laugh which catches her off guard. you finally look up at her and see her eyebrows furrowed in confusion which starts to bring some of your anger to the surface. “I’m doing great ellie. actually I was doing amazing till you decided to interrupt my night with this stupid conversation,” your tone now annoyed as opposed to your indifference from earlier.
“yeah it sure looked like you were having fun in there,” she replies harshly as her jaw tightens like it did earlier when she was watching you.
“what the fuck are you you talking about?” you snap, now staring directly in her eyes. you see in your peripheral vision a couple from a few feet away begin to stare but you're getting too heated to care.
“I heard your fake little laugh from the kitchen. were you gonna fuck her and then fake an orgasm too?” she's inching closer to you now, her grip tightening on the tree.
“are you seriously jealous right now? you realize you’re the one who dumped me, right?” you feel like your head is gonna explode in frustration. you had spent weeks trying to get over her and now she has the audacity to be angry about it.
“which clearly didn’t matter to you at all. does that girl in there know how emotionally closed off you are?” she pushes, remembering how distant you looked standing in front of her in her living room that day.
“are you fucking kidding me? do you realize how insane it is to be upset at someone for not crying when you dump them? have you lost your fucking mind?” you're fully yelling now, not caring about the people around the yard sneaking glances at the two of you. “and if anyone is emotionally unavailable it’s you. I should never have started something with you in the first place,”
ellie knows she's in the wrong. she knows everything you're saying is valid and she has no right to be talking to you right now. she should be leaving you alone to get over her but instead she wants to get under your skin some more and eventually beneath your clothes. she’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to calm down. she’s still staring down at you now watching the way your chest rises and falls as with your breaths you try to calm yourself down.
“look I know I'm a piece of shit, alright?” you roll your eyes at her, adjusting yourself into a cross armed position.
“I’m glad we’re in agreement ellie. are we done here?” you begin to straighten yourself to walk away when she pushes her other hand on the tree, closing you in. you'd normally freak out and push past her but something about her movements are weirdly gentle and the tequila shots you had taken earlier are starting to lower your guard.
“I treated you like shit and I regret it. just let me make it up to you okay?” you're staring up at her through your eyelashes now in a slight pout. your face looks so gentle that she moves to brush a lock of hair out of your face. you hate yourself for it but you lean into her touch. you know her words mean nothing and could never mend everything that happened between you two. but it's late, you're lonely, and you highly doubt that girl would still be inside if you push ellie away.
before you can stop yourself you're grabbing ellie by the back of her neck and kissing her. it takes her no time to kiss back, quickly grabbing your waist and pushing the two of you up against the oak. as her hands explored your sides you feel all the self respect and awareness leave your body. you're no longer acknowledging how gravely stupid you're acting and instead are focusing on how good it feels when she kisses your neck.
as she inches her hands past your dress and up your thighs suddenly the reality sets it, you're very much still in public. you look over her shoulder and quickly realize the people who had seen you screaming at each other moments ago can most definitely still see you now. you quickly push her off of you, readjusting your clothes as she stares at you in confusion. when you're done fixing yourself you point to the rest of the back yard in explanation.
she groans a little and you almost want to laugh at how frustrated she looks, her expression the same as a petulant child when you take away their favorite toy. you gently pull at her shirt and whisper “let’s just go back to your place,”
ellie has never been more happy to be sober as she drives you two back to her apartment in your car, a possessive hand resting on your upper thigh as she steers. the reality of what you're doing was starting to set in during the 15 minute drive. you think about telling her just to drive you home multiple times but when you go to stare at her the sight of her makes the words hang vacant in your mouth. why does she have to be so attractive?
she finds herself also sneaking glances at you during the ride. she didn't realized till then how much she missed the simplicity of your presence in the passenger seat. when you two were together previously you didn’t exactly go out on dates or anything. a typical night for you two was driving to a fast food place, fighting over the aux, making out in her car, going back to her place, smoking a little, and then ending off the night fucking. as much as she hated to admit it in the month you were apart she found herself longing for that routine again.
when you reach her apartment building as she moves to exit the car you feel yourself lingering in your seat for longer, contemplating stopping this for the last time. you stare up at the gray brick of her complex and remember how alone you felt exiting her building that day, your tears dampening the clothes you had taken back from her. although this memory should be be a reminder of how she hurt you, instead it makes you get up from your seat. you don't want that to be the last memory you had of here.
you make your way through the empty common place and soon reach her elevator. as soon as the metal doors shut her lips are on yours. you feel the cool metal of the elevator’s handrails pressing into your back as she pushes her body towards you. her hands are in your hair lightly tugging at the back of your head as you grasp onto her neck, wrapping your legs around hers. you hear the ding of the doors and she quickly grabs your hand to lead you to her place.
as soon as you're in her apartment doors she's pushing you towards the couch, articles of clothing coming off of the both of you as you make your way to the plush cushions. you're staring up at her the top half of you naked as she’s removing her shirt when the irony sets in. she's about to fuck you on the couch she had just dumped you on
you move to inch the rest of your dress which is gathered at your hips down when you feel her tug it off of you in one fast movement. she watches as your chest rises and falls once again but this time in anticipation. she quickly grips the back of the couch above you as she begins spreading your legs apart with one hand. you gasp as she reaches your panties, rubbing slow circles into them as she plants heavy kisses onto your neck.
after a few seconds your gasps intensify and she begins pulling the fabric down your legs, leaving your bottom half completely bare for her. your eyes grip shut in pleasure and shyness as she brings her hand back up against you. you feel her stop suddenly as she uses the hand previously resting on the couch to bring your face towards her.
“look up at me,” she firmly whispers as she resumes rubbing into you, her calloused fingers brushing up against your clit as you writhe in pleasure, now staring into her green heavy eyes. you feel her fingers slide into you slowly, quickening pace as you moan beneath her. your eyes follow her as she lowers herself towards you, using her other hand to grip your hips which were now moving with her fingers. you feel your orgasm beginning to build as she starts using her thumb to rub circles against your clit.
as you reach your peak you finally allow yourself to close your eyes, riding the high against her long fingers you had been fantasizing about since you saw her gripping her cup earlier in the night. once you finish she slowly pulls out of you, admiring you as you pant against her couch cushions. once your euphoria wears off theres an awkward pause. I should probably go.
“I-” you start but you’re quickly cut off by one of her hands raking through your hair, which was now slightly damp with sweat.
“let’s go to my bed i wanna taste you,” she whispers and then pushes herself off the couch towards her bedroom. fuck it
you follow
you awake the next morning and the only word that comes to your mind is fuck. you're laying completely bare and under ellie’s sheets, her back turned against you in a peaceful slumber.
why the fuck did i do that? what is wrong with me?
as you contemplate just how little self respect you seem to have you feel her shift beside you, facing you with a light smile. you hate how good she always looks in the mornings.
“morning,” she mumbles against your shoulder sleepily. you need to get out of there now. after a few moments you begin to sit up, gripping the sheets around your chest as you try to recall where you had flung all your clothes the night before. she's more awake now and staring at you.
“what’s up? do you wanna get bagels from that place across the street?” she asks, still examining your facial expressions trying to read what they mean. you used to go the bagel place all the time when you would stay at her place.
“ellie no,” you reply, rising from her bed and making your way towards the living room in search of your clothes. she quickly follows, throwing on a large shirt she had laying on the floor of her bedroom as she watches you in amusement while you're picking up your garments one by one across her apartment.
“why not?” she muses, the casualty of her voice driving you insane.
“because. this isn’t a thing,” you say, quickly throwing on your clothes and gesturing between the two of you. “this won’t happen again,”
“why not? you seemed to enjoy it last night?”
“that’s besides the point okay,” you snap back in exasperation, now frustrated and trying to find one of your shoes. “you’re not good for me. no actually you’re not good enough for me,” “and why is that?” she asks, not offended in the slightest bit which makes you even more angry.
“you fucking know why. you never have been. this has never been more than sex to you and i'm tired of it,” you spit out as you finally grab the missing shoe. that last part makes ellie pause. deep down she knows it's not just sex for her, and in fucked up way she's glad that you haven't picked up on that yet.
“oh don’t act like you’re above that, were you ever gonna talk to that girl you were all over on the couch last night or does the line only draw at casual sex when it comes to me?” she snaps back at you, no longer amused by the back and forth between you.
she's right, you weren’t planning on ever seeing that girl again. but what she didn’t realize was the fact that you were acting that way because of her. how could you be expected to commit to something when your last fling disposed of you like you were nothing?
“I’m leaving now. please don’t text me,”
she rolls her eyes at you as you make your way towards her door. “yeah sure. I’ll see you soon,”
you slam the door in her face, knowing it's probably true.
PART TWO
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bbydoll18xx · 7 days
Text
Keep the Edits Cordial
A tik tok edit of two best friends coaxes out admissions of feelings (and orgasms)
Paige Bueckers x reader
word count: 3.2k
themes: mutual pining (LOML), friends to lovers, smut!!
warnings: i like using the word ‘fuck’, 18+
Thanks for the love on my first post! This is my first attempt at writing smut, so bear with me. I have a few more ideas if y'all are interested!
Despite not being on the uconn’s women's basketball team, or having any shred of athletic ability, you had befriended Paige Bueckers, and her teammates, as an extension, had adopted you with open arms. So you weren't out of place sitting in the apartment of Paige and several of her teammates while she was in class.
“Oh fuck, shit, shit, shit,” you hear KK Arnold swear over on the couch across from where you were sitting, attempting to get some homework done.
A sensual R&B song plays from her phone several times, as her eyes nearly pop out of her head while she watches.
You look up, mildly annoyed at the noise, but you were used to KK’s antics and her overdramatics. 
“What the hell is the issue?” you ask.
“Umm…nothing,” she drawls. “Be right back, girly boo. Don’t move.” She runs into Azzi’s room, where Azzi and Caroline were attempting to also be productive. 
That was damn near impossible when KK was around.
Your interest peaks as you hear the same music play from KK’s phone again several times over and the giggles and gasps of the three girls fill the bedroom. 
“Paige is gonna flip if she sees this,” Azzi says matter-of-factly, as you strain to hear the full conversation.
‘What would make Paige flip?’ you wonder. 
“I gotta show this to Ice!” You hear KK exclaim a little too loudly, causing the other two girls to shush her. 
KK runs back into the main living space of the apartment where you were sitting. She picks up her stuff with a shit-eating grin before waving to you and rushing out the door.
She was so fucking weird.
Giving up on the essay you were supposed to be finishing, you toss your laptop down and head into the bedroom where Caroline and Azzi are heatedly whispering. They stop as soon as your footsteps near the door. 
Why were they acting so suspicious?
“Ladies, would you mind telling me what the actual fuck just happened?” you ask sarcastically. Being out of the loop was not fun.
“Oh you know, just KK being KK,” Azzi said, brushing it off. “Nothing that concerns you really.”
“But it concerns Paige?” you prod, trying to get any information out of her. Being around Azzi for years at this point, you had grown to learn her weak spots. 
Your eyes narrow, and you stare her down in a way you could only hope was somewhat threatening. 
“If it concerns Paige I wanna know. We’re best friends, c’mon please,” you whine. “Is it another one of those thirsty edits?” 
Azzi shakes her head and makes a zip of the lip motion. 
You roll your eyes at her childish behavior and look over to Caroline expectantly. She just shrugs. They were no help at all.
“Fine!” You say with a tone of indignation. “I'll find that stupid tik tok myself and see what all the fuss is about.” You spin on your heels and walk out of the room with sheer determination. You miss the smirk Azzi and Caroline share once your back is turned. 
You were so fucked.
You type ‘Paige Bueckers’ into the tik tok search bar and begin to scroll with the volume up to identify the same sound blasting out of KK’s phone just a minute ago. 
Your head gets a little fuzzy as your vision is assaulted with video upon video of Paige. You were used to calming the jump of your heart when you were around her, but the hedonistic edits made you want to scream. Each edit you came to had clips of her flexing, grinning, and sticking her tongue out in a way that made you want to rub your thighs together. They were paired with lascivious lyrics that caused you to nearly let out a whine. 
You had been avoiding tik tok recently for this exact reason. Trying to act normal around Paige all the time was difficult enough. You did not need a ridiculous app to fuel the fantasies that threatened to creep into your mind at every waking moment.
At least your screen time was way down.
Your scrolling quickly stopped as you felt your heart quite literally stop. It was you. In all its glory, with a staggering amount of likes, comments, and views, was what looked to be an edit of you and Paige.
What the fuck?
Your hands shaking, you clicked onto it, hearing the same song as earlier. This was the one the girls were freaking out about. 
“Azzi, Caroline, get your asses out here,” you yell, trying to conceal your panic.
They slowly strolled out of the room looking worried. 
“I see you found it,” Azzi said with a laugh. “So what do you think now that you’ve seen it?” 
Both girls tried to gauge your reaction, but you were more concerned about the fact that Azzi had said earlier that Paige would be pissed about it.
You shrug. You had to choose your words carefully. “Well there are edits of you and Paige together,” you reason. “Lots of people think you two are in some secret relationship, and P has never minded. Why would this be any different?” 
“Everyone knows that you and Paige have a special friendship,” Caroline alludes. It goes right over your head.
“Well if she is bothered by this then we are not as close as I thought,” you say quietly, still watching the tik tok, as it plays again. You wanted this edit burned into your retinas. 
Occasionally you allowed yourself to feel a tiny sliver of hope that you and Paige could ever be anything more than friends. Everytime she gave you a late night cuddle or placed a hand around your waist, as if it naturally belonged there, made you long for more. You knew better than to feel hopeful though. This stupid edit did nothing to quell the burning need for the tall blonde.
Throwing your phone down, you look up at the two basketball players with a look of indifference you’ve learned to master. “It doesn’t even matter,” you whisper dejectedly.
“C’mon, we all know how you actually feel about Paige. She’s the only one dense enough not to see how crazy you are for her,” Azzi soothes. “Maybe it's time to be honest with her. You never know what she’s feeling until you talk to her.”
You laugh. Fuck that. Feelings are meant to be kept inside until you die or they go away. 
You’re hoping the latter will come sooner rather than later, but you doubt you'll get that lucky.
“I don't think so,” you scoff. “I need to go before Paige gets back.” 
You leave despite the protests of the two girls, and you make a plan to hide from Paige for the next few days. You knew it was only a matter of time before Ice and KK went running to Paige to show her the edit. 
45 fucking minutes. That was how long it took before your door was being bombarded by Paige and her delightfully rambunctious children, Ice and KK. You swore under your breath as you quickly weighed your options. Option 1 was simple: pretend you were gone, although the smell of your microwave popcorn could have easily given you away. Option 2 was the grown up thing to do: open the door and have a conversation like an adult. Option 3 was straight up crazy: jump out of the window and run for the damn hills. You glanced at the open window of your bedroom before shaking your head. You needed to stop watching too much television. 
Option 1 was it. Fuck being an adult.
You stood next to the door, waiting for the three girls to give up, but they refused to leave.
“I know you’re in there, c’mon let me just talk to you,” said Paige through the door. “KK and Ice can leave.”
You hesitate, but still reach for the knob of the door. 
“Please?” Paige asks again, causing you to let out a sigh of defeat and turn the lock so she can come in. 
“Are you pissed?” Paige questions, somewhat harshly, as she walks through your door.
You give her a look of confusion. 
“Of course not!” you exclaim. “I thought you might be, though. I heard Azzi tell KK and Caroline earlier that you would flip if you saw it. I was just worried it would make you feel uncomfortable, and then our friendship would feel awkward, and I-” you ramble, trying to make some sense of what you were feeling.
Paige cuts you off with a wave of her hand. “You could never make me feel uncomfortable. I was worried it made you uncomfortable. I wanted to come check on you as soon as KK showed it to me,” she replied gently. “Me and Azzi, we’re used to the rumors, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about people thinking we’re, ya know, in love.” She whispers the last two words as if it was some big secret.
You let out a shaky laugh. “It means nothing to me. That would be ridiculous anyway,” you lie smoothly. Burying your feelings for Paige was an artform for you now. 
A quick shadow of something that was hard to read flickered over Paige’s face. You chose to ignore it. ‘It’s easier that way, less messy and complicated,’ you thought sadly. Little did you know, things would get even messier and more complicated. 
Two days later you were sitting in class when you hear the same fucking R&B song playing from your classmates phone. You look over at her, meeting her eyes. She smirks and slides closer to you. 
“So you and Paige Bueckers, huh?” she says curiously, almost like a taunt. “I’d imagine she’s incredible in bed.”
Her hypothesis startles you.
Who the fuck says that to someone they barely know? You feel your pulse rise in anger, wanting to defend your friend. You feel hot with jealousy. Anyone thinking about your Paigey in a sexual manner made your blood boil. In your mind, she was only yours.
You decided it would be fun to play into it. You lean closer to the gossipy bitch, and with a whisper you say, “you have no idea the things she does to me. Fuckk, I mean, we’ve all seen the edits. Her tongue is always out.” The obnoxious brunette to your left looks shocked, and she rolls her chair further away from you. 
With a satisfied smirk, you try to calm the pounding of your heart. ‘What the fuck did I just do,’ you thought. Rule number 1 of being Paige’s friend and only her friend was to avoid thinking of her in the way you really want to. That means no fantasizing, no tik tok edits, and absolutely no talking about having sex with her.
You lay your head onto the desk. What an idiot you were.
As the class comes to a close, you escape quickly to avoid any awkward looks from other people on campus. The last few days have left you feeling unsettled as the edit of you and Paige reached ridiculous levels of popularity. Everyone was now thinking you were somehow involved. You hated how much you wished that to be true.
You had promised Paige that you would hang out once you were finished with your class, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy to your friendship. You rolled into her apartment anxiously, calling out for her. Paige pokes her head out of her bedroom, waving you in with an equally anxious smile.
This worries you. Paige was always the grounded one of the pair of you. Her nervous demeanor makes you think something is wrong. You take a deep breath before sitting opposite her on her bed. It smelled like the lotion she always wears, and you subconsciously inhale a bit longer than normal.
Fuck she smells so good.
Paige stares at you for a few seconds, making you feel hot under her gaze. Those eyes piercing into your soul made you want to scream her name until the neighbors could hear. She takes a breath. “So basically everyone thinks we’re in love,” she deadpans. Her nonchalance makes you squirm. How the hell does she feel about being uconn’s newest gossip train? It's hard to tell.
“Yeah, I kind of figured when I was just asked in class about how you are in bed,” you mutter, blushing at the confession.
Paige looks vaguely surprised at first, before replacing the look with a smirk. “What’d you tell ‘em?” she questions.
With a sudden surge of confidence that you typically only get from ample amounts of alcohol, you reply, “I told her that all those edits of you with your tongue sticking out could only mean one thing.”
Paige grins cheekily. “You’re not wrong. I am great with my tongue. Maybe one day I can show you.”
You think your heart had never beat this fast in your entire fucking life. You were still feeling particularly bold, so you murmur, “I’m free now?” There was no way Paige was going to agree to that, so you get up to leave, before you feel her hand grab yours, pulling you back into her.
“Don’t fucking play with me right now,” Paige demands. “Do you actually want this? Do you want me?” 
You nod your head embarrassingly fast. You felt like an overexcited puppy. “P, I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you.”
“Good,” the blonde replies. “Me too. Now let me show you all of my little tongue tricks.”
Paige grabs your jaw with one hand, placing the other around your throat to keep you right where she wanted you. Your lips meet finally, and everything around you fades into nothingness. 
Oh my God, she tastes so good. Paige presses hot, open-mouth kisses down your throat, sending shivers through your whole body and right down between your legs.
“Need you naked for me, babe,” hums Paige. ‘For her you would fight a war,’ you thought, as you stripped your sweatshirt off, revealing the pretty pink lace of your bralette.
You mentally high five yourself for your underwear choices this morning. Showing up in your granny panties would’ve been terrible.
Paige helps you out of your jeans and starts placing tantalizing kisses over your inner thighs and stomach. You can feel your arousal leaking out of you already, making you feel slick with the anticipation of what was to come.
Paige notices the wet spot on your panties, grinning as she lightly blows air over your clothed pussy. You arch your back wantonly, needing more-so much more. 
“Please, Paigey,” you whine in a way that gives Paige a big head. “Need you so bad.”
“Use your words, baby. What do you need?” she coaxes, still alternating between kissing your inner thighs and swirling her fingers against your clothed clit. 
“Please just touch me, I’ll do anything for you,” you moan brokenly. You could feel yourself start to slip into some sort of subspace. At this point, you’d do anything just to get some more stimulation.
“So polite, aren’t you, babe? I’m gonna take good care of you,” Paige promises before ripping your soaked panties off in one quick motion.
For the first time, you were splayed out naked in front of your best friend, with her having all the power in the world over you. Before you could begin to feel insecure under her piercing gaze, Paige swirled two long fingers into your sopping pussy, admiring how easily turned on you got for her. She brought them up to her mouth, sucking them in and moaning about how good you tasted. 
“You taste as sweet as I’ve been imagining for years,” she whispers. “Have a taste.” She brings the same two fingers up to your mouth and drags them across your swollen lips.
You lick your lips and groan at the taste of your own arousal, wiggling around on the bed and humping the air to get any sort of pleasure. Paige presses your hips flush against the mattress, keeping you from moving. She was yours to control as she wished. Finally, she brought her mouth down to your burning heat, starting with a long and slow lick up your pussy. It felt so good you could cry.
“More, P, need more,” you cry. She was being a fucking tease, and you could feel yourself go crazy as she ate you out slowly, as if she was eating her last meal on earth.
She granted you some reprieve as she entered a finger and then another into you, slowly stretching you out with scissoring motions. 
“So wet for me, aren’t you my pretty baby,” she gloats, and you try to avoid rolling your eyes back into your head in pleasure. Her fingers pick up a cruel and punishing pace, targeting your g-spot as if it had her name written on it.
She fucking owned you.
Paige, still finger fucking you, presses kisses up your belly, onto your tits, before meeting you in another searing kiss. You want to sob at the sheer pleasure. It was overwhelming; the heat of your best friend’s body pressed flush against you, the moans ricocheting off the walls, and the tightening in your lower belly that threatened to spill everywhere.
“Fuckkk, Paigey, I-i’m gonna cum,” you moan breathlessly. “Please, please let me cum, please I need you,” you whine in an incoherent babble of pleasure. 
“Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you,” Paige pants out, riding the highs of dominating you and ensuring the unceasing assault of your g-spot.
With a guttural moan and a string of words that would make a sailor blush, you ride out your high. Paige’s fingers slow as you pant, coming back to reality. She watches your chest rise and fall a few seconds before removing her fingers from your fucked out pussy and licking them clean.
“You did so good for me,” she praises, causing you to squirm, activating your praise kink once again.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “This isn’t going to make things weird now, is it?” you question anxiously. That was the last thing you wanted to happen.
“‘Course not,” promised Paige, linking her pinky finger with yours. “I’m plannin’ on wifing you up now.”
You giggle as the last bits of awkwardness fall away, feeling blissfully fucked out. “What about you, though?” you ask. You wanted to make Paige feel as good as she made you.
“We’ve got all the time in the world, baby,” she replies. “You look like you’re about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep.”
You smile sleepily at her. She knew you a little too well.
 “I should send a thank you card to whoever made that edit of us,” you murmured against Paige’s chest, making her laugh.
“And I'm definitely getting rid of all three of my vibrators,” you announce, causing Paige to grin proudly.
Paige was unquestionably okay with that.
694 notes · View notes
poge-life · 1 year
Text
𝕍𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝔽𝕒𝕚𝕣 ~ 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕨 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕪
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“ I’m (y/n) (l/n) and we’re the cast of Outer Banks and today, we’re going to test how well we know each other.” You smiled looking between the camera and the group to your left. Carlacia raised her hand as she motioned between you and Drew, “Drew shouldn’t be allowed to answer any of these because none of us will even have a chance.”
Everyone let out sounds of agreement as you shook your head, reading the first question, “I don’t know. These are questions that made me think about my answer.”
“Okay, oo. This is a good one. What movie animal is my dog named after?”
“I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this.” Drew told you but you shook your head in disagreement, “I’ve mentioned it before but I think it was when you guys first met him.”
“The adventures of Milo and Otis?” Chase asked and Madison agreed but you shook your head. Both Austin and Drew leaned forward to try and read the car but you quickly pulled away, tucking the card against your chest, “Cheaters!”
“What movie has a dog named Milo in it?”
“Oh! The mask! His dogs name is Milo!” Rudy answered and you flipped your card, showing ‘The Mask’, “I’m a huge Jim Carrey fan and since Milo is also a jack russell, it was fate.”
“Oo, you guys are never going to get this one,” you laughed, reading the card, “it literally took me so long to even think about this one. When I was 5, I jumped off the banister and had to get stitches. Where were the stitches?”
Everyone looked over at Drew, who would be the only one to remotely know the answer but he just tilted his head at you in thought.
“Your head?” Madelyn asked but you shook your head, “Nope. My sister did though. Cracked her head open.”
“How are you and your sister still alive?” Austin asked, looking at you in surprise as you shrugged before writing your answer on the card.
“Your legs?” JD asked, snapping his fingers at you
“Nope. Not even close.”
Drew clapped his hands once as he looked over at you, “Your tongue. You bit through your tongue and had to get 6 stitches.”
“Your tongue?!?” Madison asked, looking over at you in shock as you flipped your card, showing the answer, “Yes. I smacked my chin on the arm of the couch and bit right through my tongue. My tongue was stuck and I had to get stitches.”
“You just need to live in a bubble at this point, girl.” Carlacia laughed as everyone agreed with her.
“What do I think is the grossest thing a person can do?”
“THROWING UP!” Drew and JD shouted at the same time as they high fived. You cringed as you showed your card that read ‘throwing up’ as the answer.
“I hate throwing up. I hate the way I feel before, during, and after. It’s just so gross and gives me the ick.” You shuddered as Austin patted your leg, “The first time she threw up in front of us, she cried because of how grossed out she was.”
“That was traumatizing for all of us,” Rudy explained, “we were out on a boat and she just went very pale and threw up. Everywhere. We had no idea what had happened and then she just started bawling her eyes out. We all started panicking, thinking something was wrong but then she said how she hated throwing up and it just…it killed the whole vibe.”
You chucked the marker cap at Rudy, who ducked but went to retrieve it, “Sorry that being seasick killed the vibe, dillhole.”
Letting out a laugh at the nest question, you looked over at Drew and shook your head, “you’re not allowed to answer this one. You’ll get the answer right away.”
“I’ve known all of these, baby,” he winked and your face went red as you hid it behind the card, “just trying to give them a chance.”
“You guys gross me out.” Madelyn teased, looking between you two
“What is my favorite show to binge?” You asked, but you wrote down two possible answers.
“That 70s show is one.” Chase answered, “I always hear the theme song in your trailer and you quote it constantly.”
“You also watch the walking dead a lot too.” JD added, pointing to Chase, “you yell at your laptop a lot.”
“Dude, you have no idea how long it took me to get used to her yelling at the tv.” Drew told him, “the first time she did it, I thought she was pissed at me for no reason but she was just watching the walking dead.”
Everyone started talking about how into your shows you get, causing you to hold up your hands in protest, “Okay, okay! There’s nothing wrong with being passionate about movie and tv shows. But yes, that 70s show and the walking dead are my go to.”
“Two complete opposite shows, by the way.” Madison pointed out
“Oo, how many tattoos do I have?”
Everyone went quiet as they stared at you, no doubt picturing the tattoos that laid under your clothes. You had been purposely asked to wear a long sleeve top and pants to not let them get the answer so easily.
“I wanna say…12?” Carlacia asked, tilting her head at you, “Most of them are on your right arm but I know you have a few on your left. You have the fairy wings on your back…”
“I know you have a dinosaur on your leg because I drew a hat on it last week.” Austin answered, causing you to look up from writing your answer, furrowing your eyebrows at him, “you drew a hat on Terrance?”
“You named the dinosaur Terrance?” JD laughed as you nodded, “Terrance the triceratops.”
“Terry, for short.” Drew added, pointing at you as you nodded
“I wanna say 10 or 15.” Madison said, leaning forward, “I know you got P4L after season 2 came out.”
“You only had like 2 when the show started.”
“There’s a few you guys don’t know about cause they’re always covered.” You told them, going over your answer. Drew didn’t even miss a beat with his response, “Well, they don’t. But I do.”
“Okay! Who’s next?!”
3K notes · View notes
rafecameroninterlude · 2 months
Text
₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧
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pairing: toxic!rafe x toxic!fem!reader
summary: ❝but you don’t go cause truly there’s nobody for you but me.❞ — not only did rafe catch you in a lie, he also saw jj making moves on you, and you allowing it to happen.
warnings: dark themes, crying, manipulation, slight stalking, physical and emotional abuse (from both rafe & reader), taunting, cussing, slight jj x reader (nothing serious), rafe hits you with his belt, unprotected sex, mild slut shaming, rough kissing, slapping, hair pulling, choking, baby trapping threats, soft aftercare
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this is part one of my new ‘honeymoon’ series, inspired by songs off of lana del rey’s ‘honeymoon’ album. each parts are oneshots, and could be read individually, since there is no correlation between any of them <3 i hope you enjoyed 🤍 series masterlist
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“is it wrong of me to enjoy seeing you like this?” you looked up from your hands, your vision blurry as rafe looked down at you, a sadistic grin on his face. you had a pounding headache from how hard you were crying, your knees aching from kneeling on the hardwood floor. “i said i was sorry! please let me get up.” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. rafe grabbed your chin, pulling you up so your face was aligned with his. “sorry? you didn’t look sorry when i saw jj fucking maybank feeling you up while you thought i wasn’t watching, while you thought i wasn’t there.” you shivered at his words.
rafe had followed you and your friends to a party at the boneyard, when you originally told him you were just going to go out for dinner. jj had been sweet talking you most of the night, begging you for ‘just one kiss’, his words. you were strongly against it until he pulled you off to the side, telling you how good you looked in your little red dress, being the flirt that he is. he was only two years younger than you, but in his eyes you were like a hot cougar. you met rafe’s glare, your skin burning beneath his touch.
“maybe i wouldn’t have let him if you were nicer to me,” at this, the man in front of you only smiled wider, “maybe you should tell me how pretty i look. tell me my hair looks nice, tell me that you like my makeup, appreciate me more.” your voice shook with each word, his grip unforgiving. you knew you were playing a dangerous game right now, the look on his face making your stomach turn. “you’re such a fucking slut.” he pushed you away, making you fall back with a thud. you stayed on the floor, feeling small and powerless all at the same time. you couldn’t help the laugh falling from your lips, the irony of the situation just comical at this point.
your small laughs turned into full on hysterics when you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the nearby mirror. rafe pulled you up, grabbing you by the neck as he backed you up into the wall, the back of your head hitting the hard surface. “you think this is funny? i’m so glad that being an attention whore is so entertaining to you.” you blinked slowly. “i’m sorry,” you sighed, “i don’t know what’s more pathetic; the fact that you’re so insecure that you had to follow me and my friends to a party, or the fact that you’re jealous of a fucking pogue.” you started laughing again, shaking your head as rafe picked you up, throwing you on his bed.
“you don’t scare me,” rafe attempted to hover over you, but you stopped him with your foot, “you don’t think i knew you’d follow me?” you arched a brow, eyes flickering to his now confused ones. “i saw you talking to ‘top. probably asking him to keep an eye on me, right?” you crossed your arms, your voice dropping down to a whisper. “topper is pretty cute, don’t you think?” rafe snapped, yanking your ankle so he could pin you down by the edge of the bed. you smiled at him as he started unbuckling his belt, his lips crashing down on yours. it was hard, rough, with his teeth scraping your bottom lip, but sweet and gentle when he ran his tongue against the spots he bit.
“you need me to validate your feelings because you feel worthless if i don’t tell you you’re pretty? what a fucking joke,” he got his belt off, the leather cracking against the side of your thigh. you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist so you could feel his erection against your cunt. “i don’t need your validation, i just want it,” he hissed when you tugged on his hair, the pain shooting straight to his already hard cock. rafe took your dress off, his hands roaming your body as you practically buzzed underneath him. “i’m gonna fuck you like i hate you.” with a slap to your cheek, you moaned as he pushed himself inside of you, your nails raking down his toned chest.
you could never get used to the size of him, the stretch feeling like your first time together all those months ago. rafe knew this, his eyes going soft as he filled you inch by inch, his fingers stroking your hair as you looked up at him with those glossy, desperate, doe eyes of yours. “you okay?” he trailed soft kisses along your jaw as you nodded. “ah, fuck, yes.” letting out a shaky breath, rafe looked down at your pretty face, “that’s too bad. we’re not doing none of that soft shit tonight.” you didn’t even get the chance to think straight before he pulled out and slammed back into you, a cry sounding out through his room.
rafe knew this was heaven to you. the choking, the biting, the crying. you were twisted just like him, that’s what he loved most about you. wrapping your legs around his waist, rafe pounded into you as you took each thrust of his hips. “could jj make you feel the way you do right now? the poor kid wouldn’t even know how to handle all of this.” he delivered a slap to each of your tits, your pussy fluttering around his cock. “i wonder if he knows what kind of girl you are,” you couldn’t formulate any words with his tip hitting your g-spot.
“you really think that little fucker would have it in him to choke you and pull your hair while you’re cumming?” your back arched off the sheets as rafe started rubbing your clit harshly. “please.” you knew rafe would ignore any and all of your requests when you were beneath him, it was your shared rules. he laughed, covering your mouth to muffle your moans. “i could cum inside you right now and ruin your life, you know that?” you met his gaze. “missing your birth control lately?” your heart dropped, rafe seeing the exact moment you realized he took your pills.
he laughed, but the smile fell from his face when he saw your eyes darken and your legs wrapped tighter around his sides. “you fucking slut, you’d want that wouldn’t you? want me to fill up this cunt and give you a baby?” you bit his palm, his hand flying away from your face. “yes,” you breathed, “because i could ruin yours too.” you met his gaze, both of you sharing admiration for the crazy things that just came out of both of your mouths. “fuck, i love you.” he kissed you once more, still fucking you like there was no tomorrow. “i love you, too.” your eyes rolled back as the band in your stomach snapped, your legs shaking uncontrollably as rafe took you to euphoria, his own orgasm hitting him as you clenched around his cock. “f-fuck, you’re just swallowing me whole.” his head fell on your shoulder, both of you a panting mess.
“t-too much,” you gasped, pushing against his chest. for the first time tonight, rafe listened to you, pulling out with a hiss. he fell to your side, scooping you up in his arms afterwards. you laid in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair as he watched you with lazy eyes. “we’re unhinged.” his chest rumbled as he spoke. you pecked his lips, looking up at him adoringly. “yes, we are.”
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oofthwoods · 2 months
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CHAPTER ONE! ── ˙ ̟ bring home the glory !!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: "what is a legacy? it's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see. i wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me". | a victorious journey always begins with a death and an offer.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: funerals, grief and death. if you don't feel comfortable with these themes, go straight to the part after 2023. you won't lose much, i promise! the second part is somehow based on right hand man from hamilton, don't ask about it. this is pretty much a prologue number two tbh, but i still hope you enjoy it.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 3.2k
⭠ previous masterlist next ‭→
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2021
In the solemn setting of the cemetery, the sun hung in the sky, seemingly unaware of the grief below. Its golden rays contrasted sharply with the darkness consuming your soul, each beam of light piercing through the heavy clouds of sorrow. As tears streaked your face, the warmth of the sun felt out of place, a painful reminder of the world's indifference to your shattered heart.
Standing beside the graveside, you looked up to the sky, seeking solace in its vastness. But the heavens offered no comfort, no relief from the ache within. You wondered why the sky remained clear, why it didn't reflect the storm of emotions raging inside you. Its serene blue expanse seemed to mock your devastation, its unwavering indifference amplifying your pain.
Your mother and her siblings stood ahead, their shoulders bowed under the weight of grief, their sobs a haunting melody that echoed through the air. But you stood alone, isolated in your sorrow, drowning in memories that threatened to consume you whole.
Memories of your grandfather flooded your mind like a deluge, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. His laughter, once a source of joy and comfort, now felt distant and painful, a cruel reminder of all that had been taken from you. His stories, his wisdom, his gentle touch — they all seemed like distant echoes of a life that was slipping further and further away with each passing moment.
You recalled his final moments, the frailty of his form, the sadness in his eyes as he whispered his last words to you. "Be proud of who you are," he had said, his voice barely a whisper, his breath brushing against your cheek. "And never forget where you come from. Your roots are your strength, my dear." His words had been a lifeline in the storm of your grief, a reminder of the legacy he had left behind, of the love that would endure long after he was gone.
As you stood beside his grave, the words offered little solace. They felt empty, a faint reminder of the warmth once found in his embrace. You longed to reach out to him, to feel the warmth of his touch one last time, to beg for just a moment more in his comforting presence. But he was gone, lost to you forever in a world that seemed infinitely colder and darker without him.
You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely as you whispered your silent goodbyes to him, each word a prayer for his eternal peace. But even as you spoke, you knew that no amount of tears could ever hope to fill the void he had left behind, that no words could ever hope to capture the depth of your loss.
As you stood there, lost in your grief, the soft sound of footsteps approached from behind. You turned to see your mother returning, her eyes red and swollen from tears, her expression etched with the same pain that weighed heavily on your own heart. For a moment, you simply stood there, sharing a silent understanding born from the depths of your shared sadness.
Without a word, she wrapped you in a gentle hug, her arms providing solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling around you. "I'm not sure I can go on without him, Mom," you murmured, your voice barely audible as you buried your face against her shoulder.
Her embrace tightened, her fingers gently combing through your hair. "I feel the same way, sweetheart. But we have to find strength, for his sake," she whispered softly, her words tinged with a mixture of sadness and determination.
As you leaned into her embrace, the weight of your grief seemed to press down upon you, threatening to crush you beneath its relentless force. Your mother's presence briefly brought comfort, like a delicate lifeline amidst the stormy sea of emotions swirling inside you.
"I miss him so much already," you confessed with your voice trembling. "It feels like a part of me is missing, like I'll never be whole again."
Her arms tightened around you, a silent reassurance that you were not alone. "I know, my love. I do too," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "He was the heart of our family, the glue that held us together."
A bittersweet silence fell between you, punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Memories of your grandfather danced through your mind like flickering candle flames, casting shadows of laughter and love against the walls of your grief-stricken heart.
"Do you think he's watching over us?" you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the evening.
Her hand stilled against your hair. "I'd like to think so," she replied, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "I'd like to believe that he's found peace, that he's somewhere out there, looking down on us with love in his heart."
Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined him, a silent guardian in the heavens above, watching over you with a warmth that transcended the boundaries of life and death. "I hope he knows how much we love him," you whispered, your words a fervent prayer whispered into the vast expanse of the sky.
"I'm sure he does, my dear," she murmured, her voice soft with tenderness. "And I know that wherever he is, he'll always be with us, guiding us through the darkness, lighting our way with the love that he left behind."
As your mother's words gently washed over you, a sudden movement caught your eye. In the corner of your vision, a flash of royal blue fluttered amidst the solemn surroundings. You blinked, momentarily startled, before fixing your gaze on the delicate creature that alighted on a nearby branch.
A small gasp escaped your lips as you beheld the bird, its feathers shimmering like fragments of the sky woven into living form. With a heart full of wonder, you watched as it stretched its wings, basking in the fading light of the evening sun.
"We can leave now, if you're ready, sweetheart." her mother murmured, delicately turning her daughter's face to meet her own. 
As your mother looked into your eyes, you could see the sadness reflecting in them, speaking volumes on its own. Although she softly hinted that you could go if you wished, it was evident that she longed for some respite from the weight of your mutual grief. Beneath her calm demeanor, you sensed her vulnerability, a silent plea to escape the overpowering sorrow surrounding you both. With a simple nod, you silently agreed.
With a mix of sadness and resolve, you followed your mother's lead, letting her guide you away from the graveside and back into the world. While you walked together, a quick look back caught your attention, drawing your eyes to the scene you were departing. And there, on top of the gravestone, sat the blue bird, its colorful feathers standing out against the solemn surroundings.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you watched the bird, a silent sentinel overlooking the final resting place of your beloved grandfather. He seemed to look at you, and, if birds could smile, you would swear he did.
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2023
You find yourself standing outside a closed door, your hand hesitantly reaching out to lightly tap against the wood. The muffled voices from within only add to your uncertainty, but the urgency of speaking with the team principal before the Abu Dhabi sprint pushes you to take action. Whatever discussion awaits behind that door must be significant enough to pull you away from your pre-race meeting with the mechanics.
In the stillness of the hallway, time seems to stretch endlessly as you wait for a response that never comes. With a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins, you finally muster the courage to grasp the doorknob. Its cool metal provides a fleeting sense of reassurance as you turn it slowly, the hinges creaking softly in protest as the door swings open to reveal the dimly lit room beyond.
Inside, seated at a table, is Mr. Vowles, engrossed in conversation. Your presence at the threshold goes unnoticed for a moment until you gather your resolve and speak up, your voice barely above a whisper as you address him.
"Mr. Vowles, did you need to see me?" you venture, your words hanging in the air with a hint of uncertainty.
At the sound of your voice, James looks up, his expression softening into a welcoming smile.
"Williams, come in," he says, his warm tone instantly easing your nerves as he gestures for you to enter. "Have you met Sargeant?" he continues, motioning towards a figure standing nearby, their presence previously hidden in the shadows of the room.
As James mentions Logan, it's like a floodgate of memories bursting open, whisking you back to the time when you and Logan shared an unbreakable bond. You were inseparable, navigating the twists and turns of life at the academy with laughter, support, and a shared vision of the future.
But as the competition for a spot in Formula One heated up, your friendship began to strain. What started as friendly competition slowly morphed into something more complicated. The pressure mounted, and with it came a subtle shift in your relationship. Each race seemed to drive a wedge between you, rather than bringing you closer.
It was at the peak of your rivalry that things started to unravel. Every little disagreement or perceived slight seemed to fester, poisoning the once vibrant atmosphere between you. Despite your efforts to keep up appearances, there was an underlying tension that threatened to fracture your bond.
When Logan secured a seat at Williams while you remained in F2, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you. Of course, you were genuinely happy for him, but there was also a pang of envy and disappointment gnawing at your heart. It felt like a piece of your own dream slipping away, leaving you grappling with a sense of loss you couldn't quite shake.
And then, just when you thought things couldn't get any more complicated, James hinted at the possibility of you stepping into Logan's shoes. The idea of replacing your friend-turned-competitor added another layer of complexity to an already tangled web of emotions. It was a constant battle between your ambition and the fear of losing the one person who had been by your side through it all.
"Yes, sir," you respond, choosing a simple response. Logan's gaze meets yours, seeming to ignite with intensity. "We keep on meeting"
In a deliberate choice of silence, Logan sidestepped any engagement with you, his eyes fixed on the team leader instead. "As I was just saying," he began, his voice brimming with confidence, "I truly believe that with these adjustments, I can improve my control over the car."
James reciprocated Logan's smile, though his gaze hinted at a wandering mind. "Sargeant?" he interrupted, signaling a shift in focus to another pressing matter.
"Yes, sir?" Sergeant replied promptly, ready for further instructions.
"We'll talk about this later. Close the door on your way out," James commanded, his tone decisive, drawing their exchange to a close.
As Logan's footsteps faltered on his way out, a pang of unease settled in your chest. You couldn't shake the guilt that crept in, knowing your success might come at the cost of his dreams.
In the relentless world of Formula One, sentimentality was a luxury few could afford. You grappled with the harsh reality that success often meant sacrificing the dreams of others. It was a something you had grappled with since the beginning of your journey, one that forced you to confront the truth that in this fiercely competitive arena, there would always be someone waiting in the wings to take your place if you faltered.
As you redirected your focus towards James, the man who now held the reins of your family's team, you couldn't help but reflect on the rarity of such a moment. Conversations with him had been few and far between, a testament to the typical hierarchy within Formula One teams where direct interaction between a team leader and a junior driver, especially mere hours before a pivotal race, was uncommon.
“Have I done something wrong, sir?” You ventured, a tinge of uncertainty coloring your tone.
"Not at all, quite the opposite actually," James responded, rising from his seat and leaning casually against the table, his arms folded. "Your stats this season are impressive—seven wins, numerous podium finishes. You've got a bright future ahead of you. But here's the thing, every day I see offers come across my desk to buy out your contract, and frankly, I find it amusing."
"Uh, sorry, I'm not following," you admitted, furrowing your brow in confusion.
"Williams, why is it that no team seems to be able to snag you?" James clarified, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. "You're undeniably talented, but turning down offers from big names like Alpine and Alpha Tauri might not be the smartest move."
"To drive their tractor, or worse, become a reserve driver? I don't think so." you remarked with a disbelieving smirk.
"Think about it, a spot at Alpha Tauri could open doors at Red Bull down the line," James suggested, attempting to sway your perspective.
"Everyone knows they have their sights set on Daniel Ricciardo, or Liam Lawson at best" you countered, a note of frustration creeping into your voice. "I'm a bit lost here. Why are you laying all this out for me?" you questioned, a perplexed furrow creasing your brow. You knew full well the offers on the table and why you were declining them. James likely wasn't in the dark about your reasons either.
"I'm just being honest with you," He replied, his tone carrying a hint of earnestness. His hand reached up to rub his forehead, fingers tracing over the lines etched there as if seeking solace in the familiar. "We're on a tight budget," he explained, a touch of resignation in his voice. "We're short on engineers and mechanics compared to almost everyone else, except maybe Haas and Sauber. While we've made progress since last year, I can't promise our car will match up to the competition next season."
James lifted his gaze, fixing it upon you with a mixture of earnestness and concern. "I'm not one to squander talent. I know you've got your reasons for sticking with us, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to have you on board. But I can't move forward without ensuring you understand exactly what you're signing up for."
"I'm just asking for a shot, James. Just one chance to prove that we've still got what it takes," you implored, your words tinged with determination. Images of past triumphs flickered through your mind, a reminder of the team's glory days.
With a weary smile, James let out a soft sigh. "Seems like sheer tenacity runs in the family, huh?"
"They used to say I took after my grandmother," you remarked casually, a wistful grin playing on your lips.
Turning to the desk, the man retrieved a piece of paper from a drawer, his movements deliberate and measured. "What are the odds?"
You knew precisely what he was referring to. "Iwasa's already out of the running. If I take the sprint, I'll have enough points to clinch the championship."
Extending the contract towards you, James presented it as if unveiling a glimpse of what lay ahead. "Win this championship, and the seat is yours."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the anticipation that crackled between you. With the contract poised like a tantalizing promise, the room seemed to hold its breath.
You reached out tentatively, fingers hovering over the document that held the potential to shape your future. The paper felt crisp beneath your touch.
"I know it's a risk, trading one rookie for another" James conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "But I believe in you, and I need someone who believes in this team."
A surge of determination coursed through your veins, bolstered by James's unwavering faith. "I won't let you down," you vowed, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.
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"TO TOP OFF AN INCREDIBLE SEASON, Y/N WILLIAMS WINS THE ABU DHABI SPRINT AND HAS ENOUGH POINTS TO CROWN HERSELF A CHAMPION." The narrator's voice reverberated through the sprawling circuit, amplifying the momentous declaration that crowned your achievement.
The roar of victory surged through the airwaves as your race engineer's voice erupted over the radio, a symphony of celebration. "You did it, Williams! Formula 2 champion, with one race to spare!"
Amidst the cacophony of cheers echoing from Rodin Carlin's garage, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, the weight of your accomplishment settling upon your shoulders like a mantle of triumph. Your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, a torrent of exclamations, gratitude, and tears that threatened to overwhelm your senses.
As you gradually eased the car to a decelerating pace, you couldn't help but feel the swell of pride and disbelief wash over you. With trembling hands, you lifted them skyward in a gesture of reverence, a silent tribute to the one who had inspired you journey.
"This one's for you, grandpa," you murmured, your voice a whisper against the backdrop of roaring engines and jubilant cheers. "I hope you're proud up there."
Amidst the jubilant chaos enveloping the pit lane, your thoughts swirled like a tempestuous storm, each emotion vying for dominance in the tumult of your mind. As you joined in the exultant cheers of your team, a sense of disbelief mingled with elation, the reality of your victory sinking in with each heartbeat.
In the midst of the celebration, you couldn't help but steal a moment to glance towards the podium, where your destiny awaited. The anticipation pulsed within you, a heady mixture of excitement and nervous energy propelling youforward.
As you ascended to the highest step, each stride felt like a triumph, a testament to the countless hours of dedication and sacrifice that have led you to this pinnacle moment. Your mind hummed with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, a kaleidoscope of memories and aspirations swirling in the depths of your consciousness.
The thunderous roar of the crowd enveloped you like a tidal wave, the sound of applause echoing in your ears as you stand upon the podium, bathed in the radiant glow of the spotlight. Your chest swells with pride, your heart beating in time with the pulsating energy of the spectators.
Locking eyes with James amidst the sea of faces, you feel a surge of excitement washing over you. There's a silent understanding that passes between you, a shared recognition of the journey you will embark upon together. In that fleeting moment, as your gazes meet, you know with a certainty that transcends words— you'll be signing that contract.
With a triumphant smile, you raise the championship trophy high above your head, the weight of your accomplishment buoyed by the unwavering support of your team and your unyielding belief in yourself.
And in the middle of the bustling paddock, a blue bird chirped happily, swooping towards the girl as she lifted the trophy high. It appeared as though he'd be sticking around a while longer.
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taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3 | italic means i couldn't tag you) :: @formulanni @clownrrari @leilanixx @notyouraveragemochii @alliwantisadonut @oooom4rie @watermelon-sugars-things @glitterquadricorn @minkyungseokie @formulaal @itsjustkhaos @thebearchives @hiireadstuff @laura-naruto-fan1998 @cptg00s3 @welovediaaxx @eugene-emt-roe @cha-hot
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enkas-illusion · 4 months
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A Good Daddy
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Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Gojo Satoru x f!reader
Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Genre/Theme: Established relationship/marriage; non-sorcery au
Content warning: fluff, light angst, smut, oral (f.receiving), piv sex, bondage, dom!gojo, sub!reader, brat taming, overstimulation, pregnancy kink, unprotected sex, explicit sexual content, language.
Summary: Husband!Gojo with a pregnancy kink. When he sees you babysitting your close friend’s baby and can’t get the idea of seeing you with a baby bump, carrying his child, out of his head.
Author's Note: Satoru would be such a great dad and you can’t convince me otherwise! The kids are sure to be his exact clones, trusting him with their life cause they know their daddy is just that great 🥹🥹🥹. Daddy Gojo has taken over my brain and is manspreading on my thoughts! As always, I hope you enjoy this one shot. Thank you for reading! 
~ Eren’s Birdie
Song Dedication: Married Life (from UP) by Michael Giacchino / Daddy’s Home by USHER (aka Gojo theme™)
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“Sup, how's it hanging? Long time no see,” you say coolly as you see your husband walking out of the kitchen towards you.
You have your knitting kit in hand, body nestling into the soft cushions of the sofa, belly feeling like it’s about to burst after the delicious dinner you just had. 
Satoru lifts your feet up before resting them on his lap as he sits on the opposite end of the sofa. He's massaging your feet with utmost care.
“Where do I even begin?! A lot has happened since we last saw each other about 10 minutes ago. I washed the dishes!” He sighs, raising his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner while his palm presses flat on the bottom of your foot to stretch your achilles tendon, melting the stiffness away, “And what about you? How have you been, stranger?”
You hold the half knitted lavender patch up to show it to him, “I am making a beanie for Hina. It's getting colder so I figured she'd have a cute little warm beanie to go on her cute little head.” 
Satoru crinkles his nose at this before confessing, “Cute. Do we need to babysit her anytime soon again? I miss the little devil.”
“‘Toru, I doubt Rin and Kento go out without their baby that often,” you let out a breathy laugh when he massages the top of your foot with a soothing firmness.
“Maybe we should make one of our own then I'll miss her less,” Satoru pouts, trying to test the waters carefully to see if it was the right chance to bring up the topic. Afterall, it's what he had been thinking about the entire week.
The baby in question was 8 months old Hina, your best friend's baby. The couple rarely went out ever since they had the baby – so the handful of times that Rin and her husband Kento needed a babysitter, you’d happily volunteered, not minding it ruining your Saturday night plans.
And although Satoru would pout at this each time, he secretly didn’t mind taking care of the toddler with you. It almost felt like a ‘trial’ run for when you’d have your own kids in the future – mini versions of you and him. And so he looked forward to babysitting little Hina as he got glimpses of the motherly side of you.
Your husband knew that you wanted to wait a while before you made the huge decision of bringing a child into this world and he was on the same page… until recently. He knew he was having a change of heart on the matter when his daydreams of seeing you with a baby bump started to spiral out of control over the last month.
What broke the camel’s back was an incident from a week ago – when he’d rushed out of the room to tell you he’d won a game of Counter-Strike against Suguru, you’d gently motioned him to be quiet, cradling the sleeping baby in your lap. He silently made his way to you when he saw the baby was clutching a strand of your hair in her sleep. Since you couldn’t move, he took it on himself to free your hair from the toddler’s strong grip. But just as he did that, Hina wrapped her tiny fingers around his thumb, holding it tightly in her sleep. When he looked up at you, you smiled at him with your loving eyes – it was when he’d decided that he wanted to impregnate you asap.
He had trouble falling asleep that night. You, on the other hand, were sleeping peacefully, after fulfilling your duty as the babysitter diligently. You’d wished Satoru goodnight right after handing Hina over to her parents, who’d returned from their date well into the night, leaving no opportunity for your husband to bring up the topic. 
With much difficulty when he did manage to fall asleep, he’d woken up sweating profusely at the wet dream he had where he came inside you instead of pulling out as per usual. He turned to his side trying his best to control his urges to recreate his dream as he slid his hand up under your tshirt to play with your soft nipples, making you stir in your sleep.
“Wifey… let’s make a baby,” he’d whispered, peppering your neck with soft kisses. You mumbled something incoherent as you turned to wrap your arm around his waist, still deep asleep. He sighed as he pulled his hand away, forcing himself to fall asleep, convincing himself that it was just his horny fantasies talking.
Oh how wrong he was! Here he was, a week later, baby fever running higher than ever. 
You look up from the knitting hooks, before giggling, “Yeah, right…”
“Love, I’m serious,” he mumbles, bringing your left leg up to his face to kiss your foot.
“‘Toru, why are you springing this on me so suddenly? You agreed we'd wait a while…” you sigh as you begin, sitting up as you pull your feet away from his hold.
“Yes but–”
“Satoru… we just got married. We need to get used to our married life first. We need to be with each other before we decide to bring a whole new being into this world,” you explain softly, telling him things he already knew.
“But technically, we've been together for almost 6 years now, I say we're beyond ready,” he protests.
“No, I doubt we're mature enough for the responsibility,” you retort.
“But imagine mini versions of us two running around the house,” he places his hands on your feet once again, pleading with a twinkle in his eyes akin to a kid begging for candy at a store.
“Please! My genes won't even fight, our baby will look like you,” you laugh.
“Then we can just make another one,” he says in a playful tone.
“Well… I have a feeling both of our babies will end up looking like you,” you roll your eyes at him.
“Then what about the next 2?” he says hopefully.
“Next 2? ONLY 2!” you scold him softly. He raises an eyebrow at you and you give him a calculated reasoning, “Just so that they have someone they share an unbreakable bond with and aren't lonely while growing up.”
“Exactly! I say the more the merrier!” he squeezes your feet in excitement.
“Satoru, I'm not a baby machine!” you slide your leg to his lap to nudge his thigh jokingly, “Besides, counting you I'd have 3 babies anyway.”
“Now you're just coming up with whatever excuses,” he snickers, slapping your foot away before shuffling to sit closer to you.
“Oh really?” you furrow your eyebrows as you sit up completely in front of him, sensing the conversation taking a serious turn. You place the knitting yarn and hook to the side on the coffee table.
“Yes really,” he kisses your temple to dissolve the wrinkle there. He always does that whenever you seem annoyed at him as he knows it never fails to make you giggle instantly. However, you simply fold your arms over your chest and give him a stern look.
“No… don’t do this. Talk to me Satoru, I’m serious…” you speak and he drops the playful act, nodding and signalling you to put your point across before he gets his chance to speak.
You sigh as you begin, “You’re the love of my life and I don't doubt for a second that you'd be an amazing father with time but I also believe you don't have the attention span or patience that taking care of a newborn requires, at least for now.”
“Are you being serious right now?” he folds his hands over his chest, sitting up straight.
The crinkle on your forehead fades as you try to find the best words to explain your point to your husband without seeming too harsh, “I'm sorry love, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just saying… for example, when I was trying to get Hina to sleep, you were screaming at your xbox each time something happened. It made her wake up a few times before she finally fell asleep–”
“You should’ve told me, I would’ve tried to be quiet,” he pouts, slumping and leaning back on the sofa.
“‘Toru… I literally called your phone since I couldn’t yell at you but you were too busy with your game to notice.”
“You know I don't play everyday– okay, if it’s just that, I don’t see a problem. I can change that habit,” he says with a determined look on his face.
“Baby, I'm not trying to change you. But you have to realise that things change drastically when there’s a baby involved, whether you want them to or not,” you explain and he can tell you’re tired by the way your voice sounds. You bring your hand up to rub your temple, letting out a deep exhale.
He dips his head low, mumbling something along the lines of ‘but I'd be a good dad.’
“You tried to feed her chocolate saying she loved the taste! You're not supposed to feed them stuff like that till they're like… one! I don’t think you’re ready for such a huge responsibility just yet,” The tone of your voice is strict, a little louder than you’d like it to be and you already feel guilty at raising your voice at him.
He opens his mouth as if to say something but then shuts it back again. “What is it?” you urge him to speak.
“Nothing… it’s alright, I get it. You don't want me to be the father of your babies,” He mutters as he tries getting up. You grab his wrist to stop him from leaving, giving him a ‘you know that's not true’ look.
He sighs as he sits back down, “Okay maybe what you're saying is kinda true. I don't know much about babies besides the fact that they're like cute mini humans. But I can learn, you know? No one has a manual on how to be the best father but I know I will give it my 100%”
When he sees a faint smile return to your face, it encourages him to continue to convince you, “Maybe I might surprise you. Remember when you first thought I wasn't the type to take aftercare seriously but then you told me how surprised you were when I made you feel good during and after our first time?”
“Yeah,” you blush at him, rolling your eyes playfully, “You are good at that.”
“So let me show you baby… I’ll prove it to you, I'll be the best daddy,” He leans his weight on your body, trapping you between the cushions to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth when his hands play with your breasts from over your t-shirt. 
When he dips his face down to your neck, sucking you where he knows will have you putty in his hand, you take a shaky breath, biting your lip at the sensation.
“Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum– gonna make your pretty belly swell,” he whispers as his head moves down, lifting up your t-shirt along with your bra to expose your chest before latching his mouth onto one of your hardened buds.
You bring your hands down to place them firmly on his chest as you push him away lightly, letting out a heavy sigh. Satoru stops as he moves back up to look into your eyes, eyebrows knitted.
You simply let out another sigh as you break eye contact to look to the side. He waits for you to speak but when the moment passes, he pulls away completely. You pull your t-shirt down and fix your bra quietly, actively avoiding his gaze.
“I'm going to bed, night,” he mumbles, getting up off the sofa to retire to the bedroom without waiting for your reply. He didn't kiss you good night, he almost never does that unless he's really upset. But why can't he understand where you're coming from?
Can't you understand where he’s coming from?
You close your eyes briefly as you slump onto the sofa. You rest one arm on your forehead as your head starts going into overthinking mode. However, your train of thought is broken before it can reach a destination when your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out lazily as you open the text you’d just received from Rin.
You download the picture and your heart flutters when you see that it’s a photo of Satoru holding baby Hina in a loving embrace. It’s a picture taken on your wedding day, your husband’s crisp white shirt wrinkled by the way he’s holding the baby and smiling at her lovingly. She must’ve been barely 2 months old at the wedding. You can’t help but smile at the photo, your heart aching when you remember that the same man is sleeping in the other room, upset with you. You’re pulled out of your thoughts once again when your phone rings.
Rin:
Look how cute this is! I never knew I had this in my phone!
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“Did you see the picture? Aren’t they the cutest? I was just telling Kento about how I wish you guys should have a baby soon. It’d make Hina a big sister,” your friend squeals. You laugh back at her but it’s due to the absurdity of her timing.
“Seriously, I’d love to see Satoru being a dad,” she adds when you don’t say anything.
You laugh again, “Right, that makes it the two of you.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I mean that Satoru and I just had a small disagreement about this,” you press your hand to your temple, massaging it. 
Rin stays quiet for a moment before you hear her speak again, “Do you remember that day? He had taken off his suit coat, not because he was worried Hina would spoil it, but because he thought the fabric of his shirt was softer for her to rest her head on.”
You nod, not realising she can’t see you, before you reply with a quiet ‘hmm’.
“All I’m saying is that I know you fear him being too easy going, but Satoru is a serious guy, he knows when to take responsibility diligently,” your friend continues, reminding you of the things you already know and adore about your man. 
You almost tear up – you'd been overthinking this so much that you forgot to acknowledge Satoru for the man that he is. Of course he'd be a great dad!
Even if Rin hears you sniff, she doesn’t comment on it. Instead she asks, “Oh by the way, do you have her blue binky?”
“Huh?”
“It must be at your place. I can't find it here and Hina’s been raising hell cause it's one of her favourites,” Rin explains.
“Oh, just a min–” You look around the sofa, digging your hands into the creases and corners in hopes of finding it. 
“It's here!” you exclaim but your smile fades as you observe the tiny object in your hand, a realisation hitting you with the speed of lightning.
You had been projecting. Sure, having a baby was going to be hard but you were worried about being a bad mother more than Satoru being a bad father. Taking care of a growing life, who’s primarily dependent on you for everything, requires a lot of patience. Making sure your tiny human receives everything it deserves isn’t an easy task at all times. 
Yet, despite all of this, if there’s one thing you knew without a speck of doubt, it was that you wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else but the love of your life, Gojo Satoru. You're brought back to reality, breaking from your ruminations when you hear your friend’s voice calling your name once again.
“Sorry… hey– let me call you back?” you mumble.
“Sure, take care. Good night. See you tomorrow,” your friend speaks softly before hanging up. 
You drop your phone on the sofa as you get up to make your way to the bedroom. When you walk in, you find Satoru sleeping on his side, his back turned to you.
“Baby, are you asleep?” you speak softly. He doesn't respond but you know he's awake – he can never fall asleep when he's lying on his right side.
Shit, he’s really mad.
You quietly strip off your sweatpants and t-shirt, leaving you only in your bra and underwear before hopping on the bed to get closer to your husband.
“‘Toru, my love,” you coo softly as you kiss his cheek from behind. He turns to look at you, poker face on. You catch his eyes wandering down to your cleavage briefly but he doesn’t break his composure nonetheless.
You lean forward to press your chest against his, kissing him on the lips but he's annoyingly stiff. You sit back up as you pout at him.
“Please don't be mad at me baby,” you murmur as your fingers draw lazy circles over the expanse of his chest. Just as you move your hand down his torso, dangerously closer to his crotch, he grabs your wrist and flips your bodies so that you’re trapped under him.
Your giggles come to an abrupt halt and you bite your lip when you feel his hips press against you, fully aware of his evidently erect bulge.
“And why shouldn't I be mad at you?” He mocks, bringing his right hand up to your neck, his long fingers gripping the sides firmly.
“Because you love me?” You pout as you bat your eyelashes at him. He lets out a dry chuckle as his fingers choke you lightly.
“Not enough. Gotta try harder than that baby.”
“I'm sorry, ‘Toru… maybe you can forgive the mother of your future children,” you bring a hand up to caress his cheek.
“Hmm… should I?” He says, adding a bit more pressure. When you let out a quiet gasp, he dips his head down to kiss your parted lips hungrily. Your breathing gets heavier as his tongue explores your mouth, the sloppy wetness of your salivas mixing together making your pussy throb in excitement. Your hands move up to his hair, tugging at his blonde locks.
You whimper into his mouth when he bites your lower lip, pulling it out before releasing it with a soft plop. His grip on your throat releases as his hand slides underneath to unclasp your bra before hastily taking it off and tossing it aside.
You cup his face so that he’s looking into your eyes when you speak. His demeanour almost collapses at what you say next.
“Satoru… don’t pull out. Please fuck a baby into me,” you say timidly, the heat in your cheeks rising. He knows that you know just how much your words get to him and use it to your advantage often – usually he’d let you but this time, he doesn't want to let you have your way with him just yet. He wants to toy with you for a bit first.
“Maybe I've changed my mind?” he says with a smug look on his face. Your hands move down to his hips, hooking into the band of his sweatpants to push them down along with his underwear to his thighs, freeing his dick from its restraints. You lift your hips up to feel his hard on against your core. 
“I doubt,” you bite back, deceitful innocence in your eyes, “...but I could just go to sleep if you're not up for it.”
Your husband lets out a low chuckle as he grabs your jaw firmly, shaking his head at you, “You're not going anywhere until I'm done with you.”
In an attempt to rile him up further, you decide to mock him as you repeat his words in a condescending tone, “You're not going anywhere until– AHH!”
Big mistake.
Within a second Satoru flips you over till you're lying on your stomach, caging you in place with his knees dipping into the mattress on either side of you. He leans back to pull your underwear off and your heart picks up its pace when he grabs both your wrists to tie them behind your back with the flimsy fabric in a tight, makeshift knot.
He pushes your head into the pillow before landing a rough slap on your ass. He kneads the skin right after to soothe the stinging sensation.
“‘Toru–” you whimper. He ignores your pleading voice, simply tapping two fingers over your ass. You know what he wants and you obey immediately, lifting your hips up off the mattress. He folds your thighs further in till your back is arched with your ass up in the air, on display for him.
“You know what happens when you act bratty,” he kneads your asscheeks with both of his hands before clawing at the flesh. You push back in response and he laughs, “... or maybe you’re just a masochist.”
He lands another sharp spank, causing you to let out a tiny sob into the pillow. 
“Tell me what you want baby,” he teases. Your head turns to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face behind you but your movement’s restricted, rendering your attempts useless.
If there’s one thing that Satoru claims to lose his mind over is the look in your eyes. He often calls your eyes his ‘weakness’, confessing he’d do anything you ask of him when you look at him with those fucked out eyes during sex. So for him to take away his weakness, typically with a blindfold, is when you know you’re really fucked.
“Didn’t you have a lot to say just now, love?” he mocks and you feel two fingers glide over your exposed cunt. You sigh at the sensation, letting out soft moans when his fingers begin to play with your folds.
“‘Toru– more,” you beg and he slides two fingers inside you. You hum in pleasure but huff when you’re reminded of the annoyance of being restricted each time you try to move your arms.
His movements are excruciatingly slow and it’s making you lose your mind and patience. You try to chase his touch, failing miserably at getting him to push his fingers deeper inside you. Satoru lets out a condescending chuckle at your poor attempt, “Are you really that desperate for me baby?”
You huff and you’re about to complain but it turns into broken moans when he starts pumping his fingers into you – the squelching sound of your pussy blending with drawn out cries of his name.
“Aww, does my wife like it when I do this?” he teases, curving his fingers inside to rub your walls, massaging a particular spot that has you begging him for more. Your thighs tremble and your pussy flutters around his fingers. “Guess she really does!” you hear him squeal before he pulls his fingers out completely, depriving you of all contact within a second.
“Satoru! S– stop being so mean!” you scold him with shallow breaths.
“Satoru! Stop being so mean!” he laughs as he mocks you, his fingers lightly grazing over your folds.
“Baby… pl–please, I’m sorry,” you cry, desperate for his touch.
“What for, baby?” he nudges further, his finger inching towards your clit.
“For teasing you– mmh,” you whimper when he rubs over the bundle of nerves.
“But that’s not why I’m mad…”
“‘Toru please–”
“Yes?” he sings.
“Fuc– I’m sorry… I was wrong, you’ll be a great dad– ahh,” you squeeze your eyes shut when he pinches your clit.
“That’s it,” he coos softly and you feel him come up behind you to kiss your shoulder, “was that so hard, baby?” he moves down to bite one of your tied wrists, moving further down to kiss the skin over your tailbone. You feel his fingers dig into your ass, pulling the flesh apart before diving his face down as he begins lapping at your cunt with a brutal pace. 
Your ass jerks up at the sudden touch and he continues his ministrations, alternating between sucking your clit and licking down till his tongue’s dipping inside your hole, wiggling it in. You twist your wrists, feeling the urge to grab at something, anything to steady yourself, yet it’s a futile attempt.
“Toru– too much,” your tears wetting the pillow as you feel your legs shake, threatening to collapse at any moment. Satoru is quick to sit up straight and you feel his shuffling movement behind you and see him toss the bundle of his clothes to the side before settling behind you once again, wedging his knees between yours to spread them wider. He taps his swollen tip over your folds, rubbing it back and forth to coat it with your wet slick. 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel him push the tip in, splitting your walls to adjust to his length. Once he’s completely buried inside you, he grips the side of your hips to support you, “Gonna fill you up so good baby.”
“Oh god– Sa–toru–” you howl when he pulls almost his entire length out before thrusting back into you. When his pace builds up, your body jerks slightly forward due to the force of his thrusts. His grip on your sides tightens as he pulls your hips back to slam you back against him.
The sound of your skin slapping fills the air along with both of your moans and groans. When you wiggle your wrists again in a desperate attempt, the knot loosens just enough for you to wring your wrist free. You bring one hand down to support your weight while the other moves behind you to claw at his forearm.
Satoru hisses at the sudden contact as he twists your wrist, holding it against your lower back while his other hand snakes around your throat, pulling you back till you’re sitting up flush against his chest. His other hand hooks around your waist as he starts bouncing your torso up and down on his dick at the same time he slams up into you.
You free the hand behind your back to pull his face closer while twisting your neck to look back, kissing him frantically, the wet trail of your tears smudging and transferring onto his skin. 
At a particularly rough thrust, Satoru’s knee slides slightly, making his balance stumble a bit. He lets out a breathy ‘fuck’ as he pulls out abruptly. 
“‘Toru?”
“Shhh–” he orders as he grips your waist tightly to pull you down till you both are lying down on your left side, his chest pressed against your back. He adjusts his position to hook your legs around his, opening you up wider for him as he brings his hand down to guide his dick back near your entrance to shove it in your swollen hole. 
His hand is shaky as he brings it to your clit to rub circles as he resumes thrusting into you ruthlessly once again. You cry his name out loud at how good this new motion hits and he bites your shoulder. You know he’s close by how erratic his thrusts get.
His other arm that is placed beneath you comes up to pinch your nipples, the added stimulation is too intense for you as you feel the muscles in your stomach tighten more than they already have. His nose buries in the crook of your neck as his lips bite your skin harshly. When he starts sucking on your favourite spot behind your ear, it causes goosebumps to rise all over your body.
You claw at his biceps as you turn your head back to look at him. He looks so fucked out and the fact that he gets this way only for you is what overwhelms your senses even further.
“Fuck–” his eyebrows knit as he leans down to kiss you. You feel your body twitch as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter before letting go completely, causing your walls to pulse around his cock as you reach your orgasm.
Your moans are swallowed by his kisses and your grip on his locks loosens. When you break away from the kiss to catch your breath, you stare at his face and your eyebrows knit when you see the way a string of saliva connects your lips with his. Your chest heaves as you look into his eyes and you can tell he’s close. 
“Fuck– fuck– shi–” he grunts as he shuts his eyes, biting your shoulder once again and you feel him shoot his load inside, painting your walls. With broken thrusts, he slows down before stopping completely. He stays inside you for a few seconds before pulling out and shutting your legs close to keep his cum from spilling out.
You let out a tired laugh at this as you close your eyes, suddenly feeling hyper aware of everything that had just transpired, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. He readjusts your position so that you’re lying flat on your back, while he moves on top of you till his head is resting on the valley of your breasts. 
You open your eyes when you feel him tug at your wrist and you see him free it from your underwear that was still hanging limply there. As he holds the fabric up, you see that the elasticity of its band had been completely destroyed. You see red marks on your wrist where it was secured tightly. Satoru pulls your hand down to kiss your wrist, mumbling a ‘sorry’ and turning his head to kiss your other wrist.
You simply hum as you close your eyes again, calming your breathing and nerves. You feel him rub circles over your stomach before moving down to kiss you over your belly button. He brings both his hands up to intertwine his fingers with yours, peppering soft kisses all over your stomach.
“So… care to explain what changed your mind so quickly?” he asks.
You nod as you slowly open your eyes, gulping as you look down to meet his gaze. He moves up till he’s at your eye level, expectantly waiting for your answer, pinning your hands to the sides of your head.
You bite your lip nervously as you begin, “Sorry for insinuating that you’d be a bad father. It wasn’t my intention – I just got scared. I know you’ll be a great papa, I don’t doubt it for a second…” you look away to avoid his gaze, “... sorry for projecting my insecurities onto you– I’m just worried if I’d be able to be a good mom.”
“Baby… you’re so smart, yet sometimes you say the dumbest shit,” he chuckles softly as he brings one hand up to cup your face, “I’ve seen the way you take care of Hina… seeing you be so kind and loving is what made me go crazy about wanting our own babies. I want kids because I’d get to be a parent with you… so that you can be the mother of my children. Don’t go thinking about crazy hypotheticals like that!”
“Hmm, thank you baby. But taking care of Hina is easy when it’s only for a couple of hours at a time. Having our own baby will be like a full time job. I listen to the way Rin sometimes jokes that she doesn’t even have time alone with Kento cause she’s so tired oft–”
“Hey, hey… breathe,” Satoru interrupts you, resting his forehead against yours and your face relaxes as you close your eyes, taking deep breaths. “Even if all of that is true, you have me with you. I’m not leaving your side even for a second, my love. We’re in this together. Taking care of our baby and his pretty mommy is my responsibility and I’m gonna do it right.”
You feel the tears well up in your eyes as you look up at him and he smiles softly at you, “I love you.”
You tilt your head slightly to kiss him before speaking, “I love you so much Satoru. I wouldn’t want to have anyone else’s baby.”
“Oh thank goodness! Wanting a baby only with your husband is the ideal thing after all,” he laughs breathily and you slap his chest lightly. 
“Besides, I think we’ll be ready by the time I actually conceive. I’ve heard that it takes a few months for some couples, so who knows, right?” you think out loud.
“Please,” he snickers, “I’ve got the best swimmers, there’s no way in hell you won’t be pregnant after tonight…”
You giggle as you pull him down till he’s lying on top of you completely like your own personal weighted blanket.
He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, “... but just to be sure, let’s go another round… make it certain.”
“‘Toru! I’m tired” you laugh as you try to pull him off of you but he continues kissing down your neck. You close your eyes at how sensitive your skin feels against his kisses.
“Then just lie down. I’ll do all the work, princess,” your husband winks at you before circling his tongue around one of your already hardened nipples. 
You hum contentedly as you rest your head back down, melting into the pillow and accepting your fate – you were going to have to run on very little sleep tomorrow.
~fin~
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thesirencult · 5 months
Text
Pick A Card : Soul Connection
An intuitive reading about a soul meant to find yours. In epic tales there is a literally mechanism called "recognition". The hero and his counterpart recognize eachother even after years of estrangement. Like Penelope and Odysseus. A love so deep not even multiple lifetimes can erase. A soul kindred to yours you would recognize in a sea of people.
"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."
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disclaimer : a tarot reading should never be used in place of professional counselling. Your reading cannot offer legal, medical, business, or financial advice nor does any portion of your reading herein purport to. You should not rely on a tarot reading to make any decision that would affect your legal, financial, or medical condition. If your inquiry involves the law, finance, or medicine, then you should seek the advice of a licensed or qualified legal, financial, or medical professional. Also, tarot reading cannot replace qualified mental health care. A tarot reading can only facilitate how you cope spiritually with a given situation.
PILE 1
The soul meant to find yours is a gentle one. Themes that come up here remind me of couples like Queen Victoria and Albert. I t will be love at first sight. Whatever your genders are, the "supposed" feminine will be the dominant one.
Your person will take the backseat as you run things. You may come from a wealthier background or simply seem "high value". Lady and the trump vibes.
This person will fight for those who didn't get the same opportunities to grow. They cheer for the underdog. This person will love your firey nature and how "bossy" you are. One thing you have to be careful with in this relationship is to keep things balanced as sometimes they might feel like you do not respect them or you don't spend enough time with them.
They could be an INFJ. Sympathetic, compassionate and protective. Practical and detail oriented, this is the safe place you need to come back to after your long trips towards the stars.
PILE 2
The love of your life will be able to see you. The real you. They won't overlook the greyness in your face. "You're Losing Me" by Taylor Swift is a song that can talk about your past.
No one stopped hurting you even though they knew they wouldn't be able to bring you back. They didn't care.
This person is everything that you deserve. They will help you heal. No sad songs with this one. Your happily ever after. This person is a soldier. They would die for love.
Your people pleasing tendencies won't go unnoticed with this one. They care about YOU, not what you can do about THEM.
Give them a chance when they come around. Sweet energy. Safe. Boy-Girl-They next door energy. A sweetheart with a great smile and a kind glint in their eyes. My heart feels warm writing about them. Hallmark movies ain't got nothing on them. Their love is simple and "perfect". No questions and worries. Your safe place.
Your energy reminds me of those wedding photos you see on Instagram of couples in small American towns posing with their golden retriever and smiling at each other. Don't let your past wounds f*ck this up. Sincerely, from one people pleaser to another. If you picked this pile we would have been besties in real life. Lots of love and hugs your way.
P.S. They will always choose you. You are not the first, but the ONLY choice.
PILE 3
Your whole life you have felt alone and isolated. Like life is a party you have not been invited. I wouldn't say you are a "pick me", you are far from that. You just feel like there is no one there for you to keep your hands warm. You have always longed for someone that will look behind the mirror and realize there is someone is behind it. You struggle with finding your inner voice.
The catch here is that you have the ability to choose anyone behind the mirror. You have the ability to show who you truly are. Be wild and crazy. Unstoppable. You didn't come here to do pretty and quiet. You are here to awake others and break the glass.
The person meant for you, your other half is very different from you. They are way more hedonistic and may find solace is the material realm. They will do everything to make you feel wanted and beautiful. This person will see you for who you truly are and they won't feel intimidated. Your "black cat energy" won't drive them away. They have some skeletons in the closet themselves. Disturbing and compelling, this one would make a great "50 Shades Of Grey" type of movie. lol. They could listen a lot to the Weeknd or they used to live a very "rough" lifestyle in the past. Love at first sight. Intense. You slap them and they will kiss you. They will buffle you. "Why doe sthis mfer stick around somehow?".
In all honesty, in this lifetime, your other half will be overbearing. They won't back down until they take you down with them. Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem come to mind in Jamon Jamon. This person may also come from money or have a lot of money and they want you to be their dark princess/prince. It will feel like taking a panther or feral cat and trying to domesticate it. Good try. You are still dangerous though, but they don't mind a few scratches.
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melminli · 4 months
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my boy - by billie eilish
pairing: young coriolanus x fem. reader
summery - he ain't a man and sure as hell ain't honest
word count: 2.5k
contains: angst, slightly dark themes, possessiv but soft coryo, politician coryo, talk about pregnancy and marriage, alcohol consumption
a/n: i have many songs that i think r just so coryo coded, so i thought i would choose one and write something about it. this one is just so him like, every lyric fits him perfectly
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You sometimes wondered if there really had been a time when you had truly loved Coriolanus Snow. You didn't want to doubt that you didn't anymore, but the fact that you had any doubts at all said more than you wanted to admit to yourself.
"Don't you want to get dressed?" The voice of the person you were thinking about asked you. As his Fiancée, you should definitely not think about such things. You turned your attention to him and saw him standing in front of the mirror, buttoning the buttons of his expensive waistcoat.
You noticed he was about to tie his black tie next as he reached for it, and you stood up to stop him so you could do it for him. It always looked a little messy when he tied it himself. "I thought maybe I'd stay home this time. I'm a bit tired." You said, concentrating on doing a neat job, even though you probably could do it with your eyes closed by now. Perhaps the reason was more that you were trying to avoid his gaze and also his silence.
He said something back to you as you were pulling the tie tighter around his neck. "I think you should get dressed." Was all he said and ended the discussion with a few words like he always did. It would look bad if I turned up without my fiancée. Though, at the same time - I really need something pretty to look at if I want to get through the evening.
You just sighed softly as Coriolanus walked past you to fix his hair. I think I'd better wear a matching dress then. You went to your closet to look for a black dress and it should be very easy for you to find something suitable since you had a dress for every occasion. Especially since you and Coriolanus had had started to be invited regularly to galas and events.
But you just weren't in the mood. Whatever, this should be fine. You finally decided on one and put it on. However, you had a little trouble zipping up the back, though luckily, your fiancé returned the favor and helped you out. After he finished, he watched your figure in front of the mirror and gave you a gentle kiss on the back of your neck while holding you in his arms. "There you go, my dear, you look beautiful. You should also wear the pearl jewelry I bought you, they would look good on you."
You leaned back into his arms. "Good on me, or good on the wealthy impression you want to give others." You said, already knowing the answer. Coriolanu's gaze sharpened slightly at your words. He didn't like it when you got sassy with him - no matter to what extent. It seemed to be one of your traits that were hard to get rid of, but he hoped that perhaps with time, you would learn to watch your tongue more. I don't think so, but a man can still hope. At least it's not as bad as it used to be.
"Pollux will be there." He announced and sat down on the armchair next to your dressing table while he watched you make yourself pretty for him. One of the reasons why it was there. "But I would argue that one doesn't exclude the other." He came back to your earlier statement.
So, that's what this is about. The name Pollux was not necessarily associated with positive things in your household. Ever since Coriolanus had started getting involved in politics around Panem, the two of them were considered arch enemies, one could say. Both very charming men with sweet words who also each hid a poisonous dagger behind their fake smiles so they could take the other out at the slightest mistake.
"I can't stand that fucking bastard." Coriolanus complained, grimacing as he thought about his face. "If I have to listen to him make one more pun with his name, I'll shoot myself and everyone in the room. Just because your name means crown doesn't mean you're going to get it stupid asshole. I really fucking hate that guy."
Your fiancé rarely swore, at least that's how it used to be. He thought it was bad manners and therefore never did it in public, but well, maybe you secretly just wished that he would show his best side in your presence too and not just to stupid important people.
It didn't suit him. Well, at least from your point of view, it always sounded a bit strange and kind off forced to hear him swear when he hadn't done it for so long. Like he was trying to imitate someone. "You're sounding more and more like your father." You said quietly to yourself, averting your gaze from his hate-filled eyes.
That seemed to cheer him up. "Well, thank you, my dear. Didn't realize you knew so much about him." He said and became curious. He couldn't remember telling you about him. He certainly mentioned him a couple times, but not that much that you could draw that comparison.
It wasn't a compliment. You opened the bottom drawer to pull out the box of pearl earrings and necklace after you finished doing your hair. "I don't know that much. Tigris has only told me a few things from time to time, and that's it."
He hummed as he just shook off his right sleeve a little to look at his watch. "Did she." he replied with his head somewhere else as he abruptly changed the subject to be able to talk about his own interests. "Don't take too long. The Avox should have the car ready by now, and I want to leave soon." He announced and stood up from his seat. He took the necklace from your hand and placed it on your free neck before gracefully pulling the clasp. "What did I tell you, hm? Like a pretty princess." He said in good humor and gently held you by the chin to place a kiss on your lips. My pretty princess. All that's missing is her lonely tower. "I'll go down and see if everything is all right. Just come down when you're ready."
You tried to stay in a good mood too. "Okay, Coriolanus. I'll be right there." you told him, leaving his casual mention of your staff unmentioned. You got tired of talking about how your heart got heavy when you saw the silent workers.
At least you can treat them well while they are working us. Trust me, others would not grant them such luxury. With us, they are better off than most. After all, there is a reason why they are in the position they are now. What kind of luxury? Treating them like ordinary people should not be treated as such, and yet he was right once again. They would be worse off somewhere else, so you should be able to suck it up and do your best to at least give them the dignity of looking them in the eye and enduring their silent nature. After all, they had to do the same.
That's probably what he likes the most about them. You thought to yourself and were pretty sure that your fiancé would approve if you said just as little - to just open your mouth to say what he liked to hear, like a bird that he only let sing when it was his favorite song. Wouldn't he like that? Of course he would. Well, if he wants a quiet good girl then he can fuck off.
"You know, I noticed how you don't really call me Coryo anymore." He briefly stated and left open how he interpreted this.
You continued with your make-up. "Hm? Well, I think it just suits you better now, dear. You're not the same boy you used to be."
He begs to differ. "Don't be like that. I haven't changed that much. I'm still the same Coryo you fell in love with all those years ago." He laughed as he said goodbye to you with one last kiss on your head before leaving the room.
You just sat there with a heavy heart in your lonely room while staring at your silhouette in the mirror. That's what I've been trying to convince myself lately, too.
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Thank goodness there's alcohol at these events. As someone who was born and raised in the Capitol and also came from a wealthy family, you were no stranger to popular events.
However, you definitely liked them more when they were considered parties and not some lame adult gathering. You'd give anything to hear the booming music from big speakers now while a few crazy, very drunk people hit the dance floor. It was chaotic, but at least it was real - people weren't hiding behind their pretty dresses and fake smiles like they are now. Whatever, you can't stop getting older, I guess. Maybe it would take a few more years for the Capitol to figure out a way around that, too, but by the time they did, it would have already lost its value.
You started listening again when your name was mentioned. "Now that you're engaged, I suppose the wedding isn't far off, huh?" Mrs. Valentius laughed merrily. If you remembered correctly, she was the wife of the man who had won some important literary prize or something last year. "And we all know that when marriage is near, children are not far away."
You laughed with her, albeit very uncomfortably. I'm not going to elaborate on that. You took another sip of your drink and saw how you just had a little bit left, same goes with your patience, too. I need more of both.
Your eyes looked up again when Coriolanus put an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his side. "Of course. The preparations are a little stressful even if they are going well, but who knows, maybe the first one will be there on our big day. What do you say, my dear?" He replied in your place with his disgustingly charming smile. I think I would like it if she was pregnant with my child on the day of the wedding. Would just have to make a few alterations to her dress, but that can easily be arranged.
Yes, you definitely needed a new drink. "Let's see, Coriolanus. Like you said, things are stressful enough right now, and I'm sure you don't want me to be any harder to handle than I already am, huh?" You joked around and laughed with the couple in front of you. I can't believe what kind of shit I'm saying about myself, but those are the only jokes these two douchebags are laughing at, and I really don't want to talk about this subject anymore. "I'm going to go and freshen up, if that's all right with you." You excuse yourself and make your way to the toilets, but not without grabbing a glass from a tray of a walking waiter.
You shut the door behind you and finally felt like you could breathe properly again since you were no longer surrounded by all these people. Could be worse. We didn't meet Pollux and his wife yet, but it's still pretty bad. "Oh, this is a nightmare." You said, leaning your arms on the sink. "Why don't you tell them when we're fucking so they know that the baby is in the making, huh? Ugh, since when did it become normal to get so personal?" You complained and swallowed the contents of your glass in one gulp, feeling it burn in your throat. It felt good.
You wanted to give yourself a few minutes alone to clear your head and come out re-energized, but the more time you spent in the room, the less you wanted to leave. You preferred to hear the voices muffled through the door, but this thought was interrupted when it opened, and you tried to act unruffled for a moment until you realized who was coming in. "Coriolanus? What are you doing here?" You asked nervously as you watched him enter. "This is a ladies' room, you can't be here!" You whispered aggressively as you stepped closer to him and saw him turn the lock behind his back. I should have fucking done that. My head is all fuzzy.
His eyebrows drew together in slight irritation. "Your breath reeks of alcohol. You've had too much to drink." He stated, making a mental note to pay more attention to your consumption next time so it wouldn't happen again. He ignored your earlier statement and continued. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick, or why have you been in here so long?" He asked you, slightly concerned, rubbing your arms as you seemed quite drunk
"No, I'm fine." You replied stubbornly, a little annoyed and couldn't quite find the right words, so you just said the first thing that came into your mind. "I just didn't like all this baby talk."
He hummed and continued to speak to you in a calm tone since you seemed upset. "Well, you know I want kids." He said, trying to be a little more understanding. "But I get why you would find it a bit intrusive. Don't let them get to you. That's just the way these people are." He finished, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
Maybe, but that's not the way you have to be. You didn't expect him to apologize for his behavior, but it still didn't hurt any less. "I suppose you're right." You just whispered, trying not to get too emotional under the intoxication.
But you didn't manage to hide it from him. "Oh, my dear. Are you really that upset about it?" Your fiancé cooed as he saw you holding back from bursting into tears. He put his index finger to your chin and lifted your face so you couldn't hide from him. His lips moved to the spot where the first tear fell and left a soft kiss there. "You're too cute. It's really too bad that we still have to wait. A baby would certainly stop the questions, wouldn't it?" He asked you sweetly as he stroked your cheek thoughtfully and lied through his pearly white teeth. "A real shame it is. You should freshen up, I think we can leave a little early tonight since you're not feeling so well."
You just hated that he looked so pretty doing it.
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Eisteddfod Chairs: Pick Your Winner!
It's almost June! Nearly time to reveal the 2023 Chair! So come, gather round Tumblrs, let me tell you of the furniture-based customs of my people
So Wales has been celebrating Eisteddfodau (festivals of poetry, music, and disco dancing), in some form or another, since at least the 1100s, when Lord Rhys of Dinefwr had one all formal-like and made it into a big fun party and that. The word basically means 'sitting place', and probably refers to the way people in summer would gather round the twmpath in the village to listen to bards that passed through and drink mead and shout 'hurrah!' a lot. Amazingly, this is not where the Chair Thing comes from.
Part of Welsh history is the Bardic Age, and it was custom for bards to travel the country and visit the courts of assorted gentry types (also normal people's houses and taverns and twmpaths but let's stay on topic) and play for them. If the lord paid well, great; if not, the bard would write a Super Mean Song about them and sing it everywhere, so they were pretty well treated.
But if they were particularly good, rather than making them play for the WHOLE meal, the lord would offer them a chair at the table to join in the feast as a guest, rather than a worker, and THAT is where the Chair Thing comes from.
Anyway that's preamble to say that every year in the biggest Eisteddfod of all - the Eisteddfod Genedlaethol - the highest honour awarded goes to the Prifardd - the bard who writes the winning cywydd (super complex Welsh poetry WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO EXPLAIN ALL OF THIS). And the prize for writing the winning cywydd is that you are awarded, you guessed it, the Chair.
Now these Chairs (capital C, please, we like a bit of Fantasy Novel Capitalisation and for this cultural reason I will never understand people who complain about it) are unique. They are thrones. They are carved each year by one chosen carpenter, who crafts a one-of-a-kind Chair with symbolism and that, never to be replicated. They usually have the year carved on, but otherwise, they vary wildly in aesthetic and symbolism. In a No Award year (because Eisteddfod judges don't subscribe to the Western idea that there HAS to be a first, second and third place; if no one is good enough there is no award, and I have seen choir competitions for seven year olds where there was no first or third place but there were two choirs in joint second), the Chair is sent back to the carpenter who carved it, and they get to keep it. In a year where the bard died before the ceremony, it is draped in black, and given to next of kin.
(That has only happened once. RIP Hedd Wyn, 1887-1917. Also the only reproduced Chair; the original, known as the Gadair Ddu (the Black Chair) is on display in his family home, but a 3D printed replica has been made for display by Amgueddfa Cymru)
BUT THEREFORE a big part of Eisteddfod fun is seeing what the Chair will look like this year. Traditional ones, see, we tend to think look like variants of this:
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(Apologies for the substandard attempts at alt-text; I have no clue how to describe these properly)
This one is from 1896. The phrase "Y gwir yn erbyn y byd" means "The truth against the world", and was included in a lot of old ones. Modern ones tend to incorporate the druidic symbol for awen ("poetic inspriation") instead. Some of these incidentally turn up in lil' chapels and that about the country.
But actually even the old ones were mad different, look; clockwise from top left, these are y Gadair Ddu (1917), 1876, 1926 (when the carpenter was Chinese and enjoyed the cultural fusion), and 1908.
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Still the same theme, though, but in the modern day the carpenters are all off the shits! They're all over the place! Fuck the rules! And I have Opinions.
Category: I See What You Did There
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SYMBOLISM!!! 2011 is a pit wheel from Wrexham's mining past! 2013 is the head of a harp, from Denbighshire's cultural harp-making past! 2017 is fish, from Anglesey's maritime present! Fantastic. Love it.
Best in category: 2017. Why does Anglesey's have so many eyes on the fish? We don't know. Wylfa B protestors reportedly furious.
Category: The Modern Throne
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TALL!!! That silhouette! That height!! They have the range, darling! Christ knows 2016 doesn't have anything else going for it! Shout out to the Conwy river on 2019, the different woods from the forests of Maldwyn for 2015, and the red kite symbolism for Ceredigion in 2022 (the spiritual home of the bird, where the species was first saved).
Best in category: 2019, Conwy. I like the bridge and the river lines and the water effect on the front of the seat it's just so pretty.
Category: That's Just A Chair
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(I am actually friends with the Prifardd who won 2018 at the bottom there :D )
WHAT ARE RULES WE JUST WANT FUNCTIONAL CHAIRS. Man even so 2014 was fucking ugly. You could have 2018 in your house. Around your table, like. Even 2012 has a sort of IKEA vibe that's boring but palatable. 2014 is only coming in the house under sufferance.
Best in Category: 2018, easy, and not just because it's the one I'm most likely to get to sit in one day. It's pretty.
Category: NO GODS NO CHAIRS NO MASTERS
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WHAT
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED IN 2010
BRO I DO NOT THINK YOU TRIED
Best in Category: OBVIOUSLY 2021 I COULD PHYSICALLY MAKE 2010 MYSELF
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radiant-reid · 11 months
Text
Exposed
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Summary: You and Spencer don't realize how many of your not-safe-for-work conversations have been on the FBI's radar until a memo gets distributed
Word Count 1.0k
Content Warning: NSFW (18+) themes
Similar to how it's never good to get called into the principal's office, it's never good when Hotch calls a meeting in the middle of the day. With no case, active or pending, curious looks get exchanged before the team when Hotch speaks from the landing before you all climb the stairs and follow Hotch to the boardroom.
Spencer slyly sits next to you, pretending he didn't notice Morgan was going to sit there. He taps your foot under the table, which you didn't understand could be flirtatious before you met Spencer.
Always a straight shooter (metaphorically and literally), Hotch doesn't waste any time. He hands a copy of a stapled stack of paper to each of you but stays standing, hinting that it will be a quick meeting. Thankfully, that means nothing is wrong.
Your eyes widen when you read the cover page: Sexual Harassment Memorandum.
A tiny giggle escapes JJ's lips as everyone looks at Penelope and Morgan, who are likely the guilty parties. They both look a little nervous, Penelope grimacing while Morgan stiffens in his seat.
"The brass has caught on to some less-than-work-appropriate language used by members of this team," Hotch informs you all. "And, although we have more important things to do like saving lives, they want this memo of inappropriate language examples distributed."
Besides the hilariousness of the passive-aggressive telling-off, it amuses you that Hotch thinks it's a waste of time.
"Please read through it and refrain from using these words when there's an outside audience." He finishes.
"That outside audience being Erin Strauss," Rossi comments in a low enough whisper Hotch can pretend he didn't hear the insult at his superior.
"That's all." Hotch wraps up the meeting before leaving the room, presumably to finish work that's actually important.
Everyone's wearing amused grins when Hotch leaves. "Busted." Rossi sing-songs to Morgan and Penelope, who are looking very guilty. "Have fun, kids." He laughs before leaving the room.
You notice the thickness of the new list of forbidden phrases. "Damn, how much flirting have you two done since the last time you got in trouble with HR?" You joke, earning a laugh from the table.
The list is amusing to read, everyone laughing at the memories. It was definitely not HR's intent, but it breaks up the monotonous day.
Reading pages ahead, Spencer stiffens next to you, and you're on edge about what he's read. After eight years, he's heard some lewd things come out of Penelope and Morgan's mouths, so it's unlikely one of their comments would have phased him.
You see it when you skim-read a few quotes: you looked sexy in your glasses earlier. You can remember exactly when you typed that. It was a stakeout where you were assigned to sit in a car with Morgan while Spencer sat with Emily, and you were so bored you thought you'd flirt with your boyfriend. It's not too revealing regarding who it was about, and Penelope wears glasses, so hopefully, it goes unnoticed.
It doesn't.
"Wait, I never said that," Morgan says, finger hovering over the quote.
"Which one?" Emily asks, intrigued.
"You looked sexy in your glasses earlier." He repeats what you'd texted Spencer, busting you both. You kick him under the table when you notice the blush spreading around your boyfriend's neck.
The rest of the team is puzzled, not understanding how it couldn't be them. "Are the rest yours?" Emily asks.
"You're on my most-wanted list." Morgan reads the contents of the email Spencer sent you with an attachment to the FBI's updated most wanted list. That one was situationally inappropriate, but you deleted it twice and told Spencer to do the same, so you're not sure how they got it.
They read through a few more that aren’t theirs, and you grow increasingly worried about how curious they will be. There’s no chance they’ll let it go. As profilers, won’t take them long to figure it out, especially when your boyfriend is blushing like a maniac next to you, no matter how much you kick him under the table.
The most damming one is on the last page: that sweater vest is very sexy. Olive green is your color. It’s from a few weeks ago, spoken over Spencer’s earpiece as he infiltrated a poker competition to apprehend an UnSub.
“This is about you.” Emily immediately picks up, looking at Spencer.
“Yeah, and you wore your glasses a couple of months ago,” Penelope remembers. Although he played it off like his contact lenses didn’t get delivered before he ran out, it was really because he left them at his apartment when he stayed at yours one night and you distracted him for so long in the morning that he didn’t have time to get any.  
Spencer cringes, looking totally guilty. There’s no point in denying it, so Morgan lays into the next part of the mystery. “Who’s the lucky girl?”
That’s much easier to solve when there are four women around the table, and Penelope couldn’t be sexually attracted to him, JJ’s married, and Emily’s like his big sister, so that leaves you.
“No way!” Penelope squeals excitedly, clearly thrilled by this big reveal.
“Some of this is filthy,” Emily says, pointing out some very dirty messages. They were mostly over phone calls which is why you didn’t think they could be tracked.
You bite your bottom lip, eyes flicking to Spencer. He’s as amused as he is embarrassed. “Surprise?” He jokes to reveal your relationship.
You smirk, joining him in his unashamed stance. It’s not your fault the FBI won’t overlook your occasional flirting. “It’s worse on our personal phones.” You assure them.
“I want to know everything,” Penelope tells you. “We’re having girls’ night ASAP.”
It’s not the reaction you imagine, but Spencer shrugs. He has been reassured countless times that he leaves you more than satisfied in bed. “Just remember you’ll have to look at me the next day.” He warns the BAU ladies who are desperate to hear the insider details of your relationship.
It's a good point to consider but the gossip is too tempting. “Tonight.” Penelope decides.
You laugh at her eagerness, nodding. “Let’s do it.”
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