#i really will end it all finally like Actually

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready��” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; gn! reader, established relationship, fluff, alcohol.

"Shouto,"

"Hm?"

"You're drunk,"

Your boyfriend leans his head on your shoulder and makes a noise in the back of his throat. "A bit."

More than a bit, you think. In actuality, you don't think you've ever seen him this drunk before. He's okay with alcohol, usually - but tends to stay away from drinking too much. You think the last time you saw him get actually drunk at all, you were both twenty and he was barely tipsy then.

He doesn't like getting drunk, he's told you before. A few times. The lack of control and hazy memories make him just slightly anxious, so he's careful around liquor.

You've been dating for years now, and unless he's living some double-life (a different one than being a hero) - you've never seen him get this wasted. Ever. To everyone else in your surroundings, it probably doesn't look that way.

But you've spent enough time to know him, and he's not like this usually. Nowhere near as absent minded he is now, at least. He hasn't been able to sit still since he downed that last bottle of shochu. He went to go play with Bakugou's cat, Momo and you couldn't find him afterwards. You lost sight of him for about half-an-hour until you finally found him in the living room while everyone else was outside, feeding Momo some treat that squeezes from a tube.

(You still don't know where or how he found where Bakugou kept the treats, but you decide it's better you don't ask. Plausible deniability, or something.)

You're both grown-ups, and you're not one to worry about his liquor intake. Still, though - you're worried. Even if it seems like he's not different to everyone else, you can tell. And it's bothering you.

"Shouto," You call out to him, your hands reaching to pet the back of his neck. He's a head taller than you, and a little heavy. Palms smooth against the prickly ends of his hair - tapered and neat. He presses his cheek to your shoulder. "Shouto, love."

"Oh," He says, suddenly remember where he is. He stands up but doesn't back away far enough to give you space. You're in a far off empty corner. Most people are in the backyard but Shouto wanted some air - so you're crowded against a wooden fence and wall with your boyfriend locking you in out by the entrance. He smells nice, you think - clean with a soft touch of aftershave. You look up at him. "Hi,"

"You're drunk," You repeat, watching him blink rapidly - bleary eyes and the faintest line of a smile whenever he glances at you. He's bent over, staring at you hard. "Is something wrong?"

His expression is the same as always. Unchangingly neutral with a strong and uncharacteristic rosiness to it. Your boyfriend is handsome, alarmingly so. You're aware of it constantly, but this new face knocks the air out of your lungs.

He's... pouting you think. But not fully. His lips aren't drawn together, it's subtle like most expressions on him.

But it's...there. You're not imagining it - the soft furrow of his brow, the press of his lips. His expression grows warmer and it only makes you more confused. He shakes it off, all of a sudden, a micro-expression that fades just as quickly as it appears.

"I'm okay."

"Are you?""

He blinks slowly at that. Concern aside, you can't help but think he's cute like this. His ears are pink enough to stick out against his skin, cold air making them flush even darker.

"I'm okay," He says, then looks at you. He sobers up if only for that moment. "Had something on my mind."

"Something you can't tell me?"

"It's supposed to be a secret," He mumbles. He's really drunk. You realize this late. "So I don't know if I can."

"Mm," You reply. You feel like doting on him suddenly, so you do, petting the back of his neck before hugging him a little. "That's okay."

He follows up with a light groan. You've never heard him complain like that, so you laugh. "But I want to tell you."

"I promise I'll keep your secret at least."

He smiles at you more fully that time.

He pauses for a minute, thinking it over. You don't do or say anything in return. A beat passes of you two standing and swaying with silence where Shout to grabs your hands from in front of you. You think he's being affectionate again, wanting to hold them.

He draws your hands to his pocket though. The angle is awkward, makes you bend your wrist on the inside of coat pocket until you feel something hard and square touch your fingers. It's velvet from the material. A box of some kind.

...A box?

Shouto guides your hand again, this time out. When you pull it out, his palm is over yours. It's a jewellery box. You blink a few times, confused. Shouto hasn't let go of your hand.

"I keep missing the timing," He says, hiccuping. The lack of sobriety more clear than ever from the slight slur in his words. "It's been in my pockets for a while."

Your eyes go wide open. You can feel your own confusion and excitement twist and tangle inside of you, frantic to get a better read on the situation. He smiles down at you, disarmingly and then closes his eyes. His forehead is warm as it touches yours.

"...I thought you didn't want to married. Not really, at least." You whisper.

"Me too," He says, a wetness to his laugh that tugs at your heart . "It was on a whim. I wanted to talk to you about it. But." He frowns a little "It's tough."

You chuckle, a sudden wetness to your voice too. "I bet it was,"

He smiles at you, big and stupid. "I love you," He closes is eyes and presses his forehead to yours more. "Thank you for everything."

"Shouto," You repeat, unsure of what else to say. "What brought this up?"

"Mm," He shrugs, getting sleepier by the minute. "I thought giving you my last name would make you suffer." He admits, soft and unsure. "But taking yours. That felt...okay. Felt nice."

"You're silly."

"Yes," He says, not denying it. "And I love you."

"And you love me." You repeat, a grin splitting your face. Big tears at the corner of your eyes, making your vision sting and your cheeks ache. You look up at him again. "Enough to marry me?"

He seems almost sheepish that time. "If you'll have me."

"Are you sober enough to even remember this?"

His embarrassment makes him blush and laugh again. "My heart is beating so loud I'm a little afraid of it. So yes. I'm sure I'll remember." He admits.

"Let's get married, then." You repeat to him, so achingly happy you think you could die. You wonder when to tell your friends. Bakugou will be pissed you did at his place. "If you'll have me."

He smiles. "I'd like too."

You lean up to press a kiss to his mouth, and Shouto holds you there to kiss you longer than you expect. When you're done kissing, he's smiling.

"Anymore secrets?"

He thinks on it, then hums.

"We should get a cat."

#aristotle.txt #writing tag #todoroki x reader #todoroki fluff #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #this is so corny my god #i want to kiss him #this is gender neutral and very tame #too lazy to add tags

[flemingsfreckles]

Something New (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: you and Jessie get teased for your assumed “vanilla” sex life, you decide to take Jessie on a trip to find some new things to try in the bedroom.

Warnings: suggestion to sex, sex toys, visiting adult store, (handcuffs, blindfolds, strap-on, buttplug, vibrators), none of the toys actually being used.

WC: 2.4k

A/N: if yall want a part 2 in which the toys are actually used, I can do that :)

“Oh come on there’s got to be something you want to try that we haven’t?” You pull up the sheet from where it had been kicked off the bed, covering your naked body before laying down next to your equally naked girlfriend.

“I don’t know.” Jessie just remained lying on her back, not making eye contact with you. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly, catching her breath.

“Oh come on, don’t be shy with me, after what we just did there’s no reason to be shy.” You two had just finished what was supposed to be quick morning sex but turned into a competitive match. Giving each other orgasm after orgasm until about 11am when you both finally tapped out.

“Are you asking because of what happened at Sam’s house?” Jessie asks.

The two of you had been at a party the night before at Sam’s with the rest of the team, playing various card and board games which led quickly to playing drinking games that somehow always ended up in discussions of everyone’s sex life.

When you started dating, you and Jessie had agreed to not disclose too much about what you two do behind closed doors to your nosey teammates. It was originally an idea out of shyness on Jessie’s part, you had never minded indulging your teammates in your experience but out of respect for Jessie and your relationship you kept your mouth shut for the most part. You started to like the secrecy of what went on in your beds, no one knew the details, just you and her. So when you were asked the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, you sipped away at your drink instead of answering. Unsatisfied with your choice to not answer, Sam began to accuse you and Jessie of having an incredibly boring and “vanilla” sex life. You tried to defend yourself and Jessie, Jessie being too shy to be any help, the teasing from your teammates had only continued.

“No.” You’re quick to answer, not even really thinking. “Okay maybe, I don’t know, I don’t think our sex is boring though, I love having sex with you. It just made me think and just thought I’d ask if there was anything you wanted to try.”

You truly didn’t find your sex life with Jessie boring at all, she was excellent in bed, able to meet and exceed your needs and the two of you being athletes meant you had the stamina to last as long as you wanted. You collectively owned a strap-on and a vibrator but nothing else. It worked for the two of you, it was great sex. But even great sex sometimes could use something new, something for a little change of pace. You also knew Jessie well enough to know even if there was something she was interested in, she most likely would keep it to herself until you pried it out of her.

“I don’t know.” You can tell she’s withholding information, still too shy to put her ideas into words. But you decide not to push it, it was a little bit of a personal question to throw on her and expect an immediate answer.

“Alright babe, if you come up with anything, you can tell me. Want to get a shower?” She nods, finally making eye contact with you as you both get up from the bed and move to the bathroom. You let the question go unanswered for now, secretly hoping Jessie would come up with something to tell you in the next couple of days.

After a week passes since you had asked Jessie if she wanted to try anything out in bed and not getting any form of a hint or answer, you decide maybe a little field trip would help. Maybe Jessie just didn’t know what she wanted to try, maybe this would give her some suggestions.

“Where are we going?” Jessie asked for the fifth time since you told her to get dressed and ready to leave the house. She claimed she needed to know where you were going so she could dress appropriately.

“I’ve told you, it’s a surprise.” You turn back to look at your girlfriend as you grab your keys.

“You know I hate surprises.” She mumbles as she follows you down the hallway from your apartment out the door. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of surprises, she liked having all the information and surprises made her feel out of control.

“Jessie it’ll be fine, I promise. If you hate it for some reason we can leave. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, I trust you.” She gets into the passenger seat of your car and you start driving. You debated having her close her eyes but it didn’t feel necessary, you weren’t going too far. You drove for another 25 minutes before you pulled into the parking lot of a small shop.

“You brought me to an adult store?!” Her voice is a mix of confusion and also a little bit scared.

“Yes, I did but we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I just thought, maybe we could look around?” You don’t want her to feel forced, but you thought this would be a good way to maybe suggest new ideas for the two of you.

“What if someone sees us?” You’re convinced her voice is raised a few octaves.

“Jessie, we’re adults. We’re also publicly dating, people know we have sex.”

“Still.” She was bouncing her leg, head swiveling to look around the car to the empty parking lot, and she was nervously playing with her fingers. You start to think maybe you should’ve asked if she’d want to do this before you made it a surprise. Or maybe just going online shopping would’ve been a better choice for someone like Jessie.

“Babe,” you place a hand on her knee, trying to settle it, “we don’t have to go in. If you don’t want to, we won’t. We also can go in and then immediately leave, whatever you want.”

She doesn’t say much, just looking at the door of the shop. You can tell she’s having an argument within herself on what she wants to do. You let her ponder, she slowly stops fiddling with her fingers, wiping her hands, that were likely sweating slightly on her legs.

“Let’s go in.”

“Are you sure?” Now worried she feels forced by you and like she has to go into the store.

“Yeah.” Before she’s able to get out of the car you grab her hand.

“If you want to leave, just tell me, we’ll go.” She nods and you both get out of the car and walk into the store.

You’d been in a store like this once before, buying a joke gift for a bachelorette party, but never when looking for something you actually wanted. The toys you owned had been purchased online.

You didn’t know where to start so you decided to just take a lap around the whole store, then figuring out where you wanted to look. Jessie followed you around like a lost puppy, her eyes barely leaving the floor, glancing up only to look at you.

You move over to the wall of dildos, you liked the one you had for your strap currently, but a new one wouldn’t hurt. It’s a little overwhelming, every color and size imaginable on the wall, ones that vibrate, ones that spin, ones that have heating elements. That sounded like a fire hazard to you. Your eyes scan over all the options, a few catching your eye, you prefer the fun colors, you look at sizes comparable to the one you already owned. It worked for both of you, no reason to make too much of a change with a new one.

You turn to see Jessie, surprised to see she’s actually looking up at the wall instead of the floor. You watch as her eyes scan, before setting on a blue dildo that looks to be slightly larger than the one you already owned. Her eyes wander away and then come back to the blue one. You give her a second to make a decision or movement to grab the toy, she doesn’t.

“You like that one?” You point at it on the wall. Jessie doesn’t say anything, just turning to look at you and then back to the box and then to the floor.

“Jessie, if you want it we can get it.” You notice the slightest nod of her head, but she doesn’t make a move to grab it. You sigh, letting out a small laugh at your girlfriend’s shy behavior, given she was the opposite in the bedroom once you got her going. You take the box off the wall and throw it into the basket you had picked up.

Jessie walks away and out of the section you were in, not saying anything to you. Now it was you who was the one following her around the store. She moves over to a wall of assorted items. Small vibrators, bottles of lube, gags, paddles, all sorts of things. You watch her carefully as her eyes scan again. This time they don’t stop for too long on anything. You assume nothing has peaked her interest. She takes a few steps around the corner to another wall of items. You grab a bottle of lube off the shelf, identical to the one you already owned, you weren’t running out quite yet but there wasn’t really such a thing as too much lube.

You scan the wall yourself before following Jessie around the corner. You see her hand reach out slightly toward something before she withdraws when she notices you coming around the corner. Her hand drops but she’s still looking at it when you come over. It’s a blindfold and handcuff set.

“Really?” You look at her, shock probably across your face as your hand grabs the box. She nods again, still not using her voice. You throw it in the basket. The thought of your hands restrained to the headboard while Jessie had her way with you, or hers being restrained while you got to tease her had you clenching your thighs together, ready to leave the store and try it out.

You are now just following Jessie around the store, less looking for yourself and just watching her eyes carefully as she has yet to actually say any words about what she wants to you. As you walk by a section of harnesses you see ones with a pocket where you could put a vibrator. You try to think if the one you have at home has a pocket but you can’t remember.

“Babe,” you whisper yell across the store to where Jessie was wandering around. She quickly comes over to you. “Does our harness have this pocket? I can’t remember.”

She nods at you and gives a quiet “Yes.”

“Oh, should we get something for it? We don’t have anything small enough to go in there.” You grab for one of the smaller bullet vibrators and hold it up to Jessie, cocking your head to ask her if she wanted it. She just gives you a nod again.

Jessie returns back to where she was before, you follow her over. She’s looking at another wall of assorted items. Only instead of walking past this one her eyes are glancing and then looking away only to draw back to some boxes. When you realize what she's looking at, your jaw nearly falls open, but not wanting to make her question her interest you keep a straight face.

“That?” You point at the silver butt plug Jessie was looking at.

“Only if you’d want it?” You realize she means she wants to use it on you, if you’d let her. You’d never tried it, but figured no harm in trying things out.

“Sure, I’m open to trying whatever with you.” You grab the box, throwing it into your surprisingly full basket. You hadn’t realized how many things you had picked up on your lap around the store.

You’ve nearly made it through the whole store, taking a last stop to look at some of the lingerie. You flip through the options while Jessie is back to standing behind you as if she was hiding. You find a red lacy matching set and throw it into the basket, you look back to see Jessie’s eyes wide as she sees what you had picked out. You flash her a smirk, knowing she’s picturing you wearing the outfit.

“You all done?” You ask your girlfriend. She gives you a nod and reaches into her pocket grabbing out her wallet and handing you her card.

“I’ll get it.” You wave off her card but she sticks the card into your hand again. You roll your eyes, taking her card and turning to go check out, leaving Jessie wandering behind you, not wanting to interact with the employees.

You check out quickly and look back to get Jessie’s attention as you’re ready to leave. She follows you quickly out the door and rushes to the car. You place the bag in the trunk and get in the drivers seat.

“See I knew there was stuff you wanted to try but were too shy to say it.” You poke at her cheek. “You could’ve told me.” You tease her gently you knew she was shy, she always had been since you met her, she was shy with everyone.

She doesn’t say anything but you notice the blush on her cheeks reddening. You decide to leave her be, not wanting to tease her too much. At least not yet, maybe later in the bedroom.

You throw the car in drive and leave the shop, heading home. When you get home you throw the contents of the bag on the bed. “So where do you want to start?” You ask Jessie turning to see her looking at everything you had bought.

“Handcuffs maybe the new dildo too?” She says with a questioning look, one eyebrow raised at you, no longer shy like she was at the store.

You nod quickly at her.

“Get on the bed.” Her tone is demanding, she reaches to pick up the handcuffs and blindfold as she makes her way to the side of the bed. You lay down and Jessie straddles your waist, her weight holding you to the bed. She drops the handcuffs before grabbing your hands with hers interlocking your fingers and pinning your hands above your head with her strength.

She leans down as if she’s going to kiss you, before moving to the side to place her lips against your ear. “This is going to be fun.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso smut #jessie fleming blurb #jessie fleming smut

[girlokwhatever]

can you do paige being jelly of you and kks rls (you and kk are just friends but paige claims “yall r too close”)

⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡.｡.:*✧ focus on me,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

2 WEEKS AGO:

paige was just getting back from personal training, walking through the team’s dorm door and letting her shoes slide off her feet. she didn’t see anyone, but she heard the sound of kk’s screaming laughter. paige figured she needed to relax a bit, so she went to drop her bags off in her room and then go see what kk was up to.

as she walked closer to her teammates door, she heard the sweet sound of your voice. in any other situation it would’ve soothed paige, but here—coming from kk’s room, it didn’t.

your girlfriend pushed the door open gently, a light frown on her face upon observing you and kk. the two of you were laying on kk’s bed, phone screen in front of you both.

“hey guys.” your giggles ceased and your head turned, only to be greeted with paige’s unamused expression.

“oh! hi baby,”

“i thought you said you were working today?” you’re sitting straight now, looking up at paige from your position next to kk. your friend stays silent, pushing her hand over the phone’s microphone to muffle your conversation. she could sense the tension coming from paige and wasn’t really sure where this was going.

“they let me off early, really slow day.” you explain to your girlfriend, slightly shocked at the way she’s acting. you didn’t think on it too much though, assuming she was just fatigued.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“you were busy paige.”

it aggravates paige that you didn’t tell her, instead opting to spend your rare free time with kk. and paige wouldn’t say it out loud, but she was also jealous that you and kk went live without her. everyone said that the three of you were a trio.

“you guys went live without me?”

“it’s not a big deal, babe. we do all the time.”

6 DAYS AGO:

the team was on a ‘recreational team bonding field trip’ and everyone insisted you join, especially kk. you and the freshman had grown quite fond of each other, feeding off the other’s energy and enthusiasm. you were definitely the lives of the party.

you had been spending a lot of time with kk actually, which was starting to get to paige. she’d suggest a fun activity for the two of you to do, and you were always saying “kk should come too!”

paige really enjoyed having you here today, loving and admiring the way you fit in so perfectly with all her friends. even on the way here you were cracking jokes and making everyone laugh. she was thankful to have you, grateful for how receptive everyone is to having you around.

everyone had been hiking up the mountain for about an hour and a half, finally making it to the top. you rejoiced, high-fiving everyone around you. you motivated everyone undoubtedly. it made paige want to kiss you and she was about to— until kk jogged up to the two of you and pulled you away.

it was time to take the zip line down to the bottom of the mountain, something everyone was excited about (really their only good reason to come). everyone needed to pick a partner and paige didn’t even think twice about knowing you were hers. you were her girlfriend for christsake, she didn’t need to call dibs on you.

apparently she did though, cause kk claimed you as her partner instead. what upset paige the most was that you didn’t even say no. never saying “i want to be paige’s partner.”

that’s how paige ended up with nika, the two of them going last.

“if looks could kill..”

“what?” nika’s words drew paige out of her daydream, grounding her back in this moment she wishes wasn’t even happening.

“i saw the look you gave kk. why didn’t you say something?”

it was a good question really. why didn’t she?

suddenly paige remembers your and kk’s shared screams of joy going down the zip line. she remembers the way kk interlocked your hands and threw them up in the air like she was on a rollercoaster. like kk was your girlfriend.

“doesn’t matter. my girlfriend seemed to enjoy herself with another girl.”

“oh paige, don’t be like that. that’s just how kk is.”

when nika and paige made it to the bottom of the zip line it felt like five years had passed. you and kk had been the first to go, and paige had to wait ten minutes for everyone else to be done. upon making it back to ground, paige noticed ashlynn taking a picture of you and kk.

kk’s arm was around your shoulders as she leaned into you, a big stupid grin on her face. you were smiling too, not minding kk’s close proximity.

after being unclipped from the line paige walked towards you, trying to let her frustrations drain away so she could just enjoy the day.

“baby,”

“hold on- what kk?”

2 DAYS AGO:

the team had been back from practice for a few hours now, everyone just relaxing and doing their own thing. paige really wanted to take this reprieve to spend alone time with you, becoming increasingly aware that you hardly ever got a moment to yourselves.

but of course, her plans changed when kk asked to play video games with you at your apartment. you said yes, now sitting on your couch with kk playing COD while paige sulked in another room. you hadn’t realized she was sulking, just thinking she was tired and went to take a nap.

about an hour into playing, your girlfriend came padding out of your bedroom and into the living area. you were too distracted and paige was too childish, quickly unplugging the power cord to the TV without either you or kk noticing.

“NOOOO!”

“WHAT HAPPENED??”

“bro your tv is broken,”

“you probably broke it-“

paige’s voice cut through the air like a knife, bringing both you and kk back into reality. you’re both staring at her wide-eyed with mouths agape.

“well, looks like you gotta go home kk, playing video games there.” paige is fake shrugging like she too is disappointed in the circumstances. you’re squinting and suspecting of her tone but it quickly vanishes.

“TRUE, we can go to the dorms and play girl boo!”

paige’s shoulders shrink, watching as you gather your shoes and keys. her plan backfired on her almost instantly.

“maybe we can just stay here babe? i can help you fix the tv,”

“i’ll fix it later p. you comin?”

CURRENT DAY:

paige was beyond excited. was.

she had gone out of her way to plan a nice dinner for you, trying to cook up something nice. she had even printed out a recipe and followed it step-by-step. she went to the store to get you flowers, bought a new dvd to add to your collection, and even wrote you a little love letter.

you told her you’d be getting off by 5:30. it was now 6:43. she was certain the food was cold and stale by now, not worth eating. she had to blow out the candles she lit at the table because the wax started dripping onto the wooden surface. paige was almost finished with her homemade cocktails she learned how to make just for tonight when you walked through the door. finally.

“hey baby!” you hadn’t looked up yet, kicking off your shoes and shrugging your jacket down your shoulders.

“where’ve you been?”

you finally looked up, letting your surroundings sink in along with the instant guilt. you had no idea she was planning anything.

“i was doing this thing with kk-“

at the mention of her friend’s name again paige aggressively pushed her drink away and stormed off. you stood there dumbfounded for a second before quickly following behind her, having to jog to keep up with her pace.

“paige? what’s wrong?”

“what’s wrong?! i think if you mention kk one more time im going to lose my mind. all you do is hang out with her. like i’m not even here. y’know, i planned this whole night because i wanted to spend quality time with you. but instead of wanting to come home to me, you go to kk?!”

“paige i didn’t know you-“

“and y’know what?! i’m tired of you prioritizing her. i’m your girlfriend. not kk. me! you’re too close with her..” she’s silent for a moment and you let her words linger in the air. “jus want you to focus on me.”

her head is hung low and saying it out loud almost makes her feel selfish. but you understand her, you consider her words and realize she’s right.

you have been spending a lot of time with kk. and in turn, you sacrificed precious time with paige to do so. it crushes you now that you know, and you suddenly wish you could go back and time. a few stray tears roll down your girlfriend’s face, landing on her favorite button up. she picked it for this special occasion. just for you.

you peak your head out to the kitchen, soaking in the decorations and the ghost of paige’s effort to make this night amazing for you. a frown settles deep on your features when you realize you’re ruining this night for her.

“paige, i love you so much. unbelievably so. i’m so sorry, please let me make it up to you while we enjoy the meal you made.” you’re almost pleading with her, wiping her few tears away and cradling her fragility. she nods, a weak smile adorning her face as she looks at you.

the dinner had been amazing and paige swears you told her that about a million different times. she liked it though. your reassurance and affirmations let her know that you cared about her more than anything else.

“i love you paigey.”

“not kk?”

“not kk.”

“good, i love you too”

“wait- you were just jealous-“

“shut up.”

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ °. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

YALLLLLLL

idk 😋

#paige buckets #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone? 

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞  

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay." 

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 

-

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications. 

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

-

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones." 

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 

That anger got him P3. 

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 

"Can you walk?" 

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't." 

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do." 

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 

 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

-

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions. 

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

-

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 

-

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating. 

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

-

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 

clementine

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clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 

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feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

-

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

<3

#black reader #lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x black reader #poc reader #black female oc #lewis hamilton x black female oc #black reader friendly #things lost and things found part two

[rebelliousstories]

Toxic as Rads

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @silverose365

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Strong Language, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 1,307

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: They had not been alright for a long time. They would breakup, and then make up. A vicious cycle with no foreseeable end.

“Damnit Coop! I am so sick and tired of running in these damn circles.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be chasin’ your own bullshit.”

This had been going on for hours now. The couple had holed up in an abandoned facility that was still somehow standing after all the years, and bombs. Neither one could remember what this argument was about this time, but that is how they worked. They would fight. They would make up. And they would do it all again the next day.

It did not used to be like this though. They used to be happy, and in love.

~

“Listen, I just need someone to show me the ropes. I was thrown out here and I don’t wanna die.” A feminine voice pleaded with a cowboy that was busy walking away.

“Don’t do charity cases, darlin’. Not even if they’re cute like you, Vaultie.” His voice was growing more and more distant.

“Hey! Ghoul, you want this back?” Turning back around, Cooper found that she was holding a gun, and a box of chems. Patting himself down, he found that he was missing one of his guns, and his box of chems. He marched right up to the girl with a low growl.

“Gimme that, little girl. You don’t know what that’s gonna do.” He tried to get his effects back, but what unsuccessful. Cooper tried again, and finally got them back, but she just swiped his hat off of his head while his hands were full.

“Listen here, I don’t do no damn charity cases.” The Ghoul grabbed his hat back once he had stashed his gun and chems.

“Please. I’m really good at stealing. I can get you anything you want.” She begged once more, looking close to getting on her knees.

“Anything I want?” He pressed, watching in amusement as her head nodded up and down fast.

“Alright, Vaultie. Let’s see what you’re made of.” He turned on his heel and left, smirking as the vault dweller was hot on them to follow.

~

“Coop, I am tired of this shit. Can you just trust me to do a job, or do fuckin’ anything?” She screamed, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Well then maybe you should make it easy and go. Not like I expected a damn vault dweller to stay around me like a lost puppy.” He thought to himself, but did not realize that he had actually said it aloud. Cooper watched as the horror morphed into melancholy on her face. With her face, he finally realized his mistake.

“Darlin’, now I didn’t mean that. Come here.” Cooper tried to gather her in his arms, but she slipped out faster than him. She ran around the room and collected her items that were strewn about, trying to get them on faster than Cooper could get to her.

“Sweetheart, you know that’s not what I meant. I was just upset. Please let’s talk this through. No need to do anything rash.” But she had bolted out the front door before he ever got there, and ran into the night. Howard tried to follow her, but there was a reason she was good at stealing; she was also amazing at not being found. Looking out into the night sky, Cooper screamed to the heavens, although he knew no one would hear his call of despair. Retreating back into the building, he threw, kicked, and hit anything he could get his hands on. Once his rage had been exhausted, Cooper made sure he had all of his gear with him, before he set out into the night.

By day three, he was pissed. Cooper should be proud; he had trained her on how to survive in the Wasteland and avoid detection. But this was him, using his own tracking skills to track down on someone he had personally trained. The fact that she was staying a step a head was impressive and infuriating. He had followed her near a settlement; a very familiar settlement. This was the same town that he had gotten her from all those years ago. It was a little more rundown, but the structures still stood as strong as they could.

“God damnit woman.” Cooper knelt down to collect a familiar pouch that held a vintage camera with a little bit of film left. They had found it together their first year traveling together and she took every opportunity to get pictures together. He knew the negatives on that film were all of him, or of them together. Why she dropped it, he did not know. But it could not have been a good reason. Strapping it into his own pouch on his saddle bag, Cooper made his way around the town. People moved out of his way as he moved, but he could not find her there. If she came all the way back here, why was she still avoiding him?

That is when a thought came into his head. Leaving the designated town, Howard stalked along the sides, and found a house on the outskirts. This house had remained abandoned the entire time he had been coming here for some reason or another. He did not particularly care to remember why it remained empty. There was a shift of fabric that he could hear from the front door. Making his way into the house, Cooper heard the soft sniffles and quiet cries of his woman as he grew closer and closer to the bedroom.

The door was halfway open, which meant he could not have snuck up on her even if he wanted to. And the sight inside made his heart hurt. She was curled up on the bed with blankets and pillows. It looked more like a nest than a bed, but she found herself in the middle of it all.

“Go away.” Her voice was hoarse as it tried to spit out and sound meaner than she actually sounded.

“Now, I think you don’t really want that darlin’.” Cooper replied, placing his hat on the bedpost at the foot of the bed/nest situation.

“You don’t know what I want. Besides, I’m just some stupid vault dweller who follows you around like a lost puppy. Figured you’d be having a damn party with me gone.” Turning further and further away, the scratch to her voice almost made it like a growl. Howard shrugged off his duster and threw the rest of his guns, belts, and bags into a chair in the corner before encroaching upon her space. She tried to push him off, but he kept wrapping his arms around her to pull her into his chest.

“I’m sorry for what I said, darlin’. Didn’t mean what I said.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head, and squeezed her closer while her arms dropped in defeat.

“I just don’t understand why you would say that if you didn’t mean it.” She lamented.

“Was just angry darlin’. Not at you. Just- we’ve been fightin’ a lot. We never used to and it seems every day we’re findin’ somethin’ to get pissed off about.” He replied, settling into the comfortable bed.

“I know. ‘M sorry for running. Just didn’t know how to deal with it all.” Rolling over, she tucked her face into Cooper’s chest and smushed them closer together.

“No need to apologize sweetheart,” came his response. He pressed another kiss, this time to her forehead, and started to stroke her hair.

“Oughta redden your ass though. Makin’ me chase you all over this damn desert.” Cooper teased, his gloved hand reaching down to give her rear a teasing squeeze.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ghoul.” She teased back, snuggling in closer. They were not perfect, that was for certain. But from that point forward, they would be doing better.

#rebelliousstories #writing #cooper howard x oc #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard #cooper the ghoul howard #the ghoul x oc #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout imagine #fallout

[malfoyscoffee]

theodore nott ᯓᡣ𐭩 friends with benefits to lovers

fwb!theodore who groans and pulls you closer to his body when you attempt to leave so early in the morning.

fwb!theodore who finally wakes up and suggests you spend the morning in his bed because “it’s the best way to spend saturdays”.

fwb!theodore who whines when you say you have to study for potions, because why is potions more important than him?

fwb!theodore who complains like a child but proceeds to walk you to his door, not forgetting to press a quick kiss to your lips, before reminding you that he’s free all day.

fwb!theodore who eventually gets bored without you and decides to head to draco’s room where the others planned to hangout.

fwb!theodore who is taken back when blaise tells him that there are rumors that cedric diggory was going to ask you to hogsmeade.

best friend!mattheo who laughs and teases theodore, stating that pairs who go to hogsmeade always end up dating by the end of the date.

fwb!theodore who smacks mattheo in the head with draco’s pillow before frantically trying to find out when cedric was planning on asking you out.

fwb!theodore who runs out of draco’s dorm and barges into yours, sighing in relief when he actually finds you studying on your desk. you really chose studying above him

fwb!theodore who towers over you while you stand up from your seat, questioning why he’s out of breath when he was fine in the morning.

fwb!theodore who holds your hand into his, before taking a deep breath because it was truly now or never.

“i’m in love with you. i don’t want to just sleep around with you, i want a real relationship. please tell me you feel the same; my heart is pounding and my mind is racing because this is making me nervous—you’re making me nervous.”

fwb!theodore who cups your face and kisses you like his life depends on it when you confess that the feelings are reciprocated.

boyfriend!theodore who watches you and cedric at the entrance of the great hall the next morning, smirking because he could predict what cedric was going to talk to you about.

boyfriend!theodore who spots your polite smile and cedric’s deflated shoulders, before you bid cedric goodbye and return to your friends.

boyfriend!theodore who puts an arm around you waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek when you return to your seat next to him.

#harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theo nott #slytherin fanfiction #slytherin x reader #slytherin x slytherin #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys oneshot #slytherin boys scenarios #slytherin boys x reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x reader #theo nott fanfiction #theo nott imagine #theo nott scenario #theo nott imagines #theo nott oneshot #theo nott fluff #theo nott x reader

[the-lil-spud]

Mama Didn't raise no Bimbo!

Y/n was thrown head first into Hell - like everyone she has to find her own path and she was doing pretty darn good but what happens when she finally comes across the three Vee's who don't necessarily like to share...

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

This was such a bad idea!

Such a bad idea! How did Angel Dust manage to convince you to do this was beyond you. But here you are gripping the handle of the front door of the Vee’s Tower.

“Oh, I’m just running a little late at work honey, meet me at the tower and we will head to the clubs from there,” you mocked under your breath as you turned the handle. Swear, if that Valentino tries to get you to join a porno you will kill Angel.

Deep breaths. Entering the main foyer, you squint because of all the damn bright lights, screens, and décor. Spying all the cameras you drag your coat closer to your body. No hiding from anyone here. You make your way up to the receptionist desk as instructed by your lovely ‘friend’.

“Hey sugar, I’m here to see Angel Dust, they’re expecting me don’t suppose you could tell me where I should be going could ya?” Giving your best winning smile at the bored receptionist, at her unimpressed flicker of her eyes going over your outfit and hair you could feel the smile start to strain. Like everyone, your appearance changed when you came to Hell, and you considered yourself lucky that you mainly had humanistic characteristics – the fangs, violet eyes, skin as white as snow and wicked pink highlights in your hair you just considered as an extra – it could be so much worse. You have seen much worse.

Smoothing your hands over the coat you let your smile drop and narrowed your eyes at the receptionist. Down here in Hell you were sure others just made situations difficult to be difficult. Actually… that was probably true. They were just the worst down here.

Popping her gum in your face you could feel your eyebrow start to twitch. Bitch. Tapping away on her keyboard she proceeds to ignore you for a few moments before pointing at a sign which told you which floors for what people. Seeing Valentino’s floor, you assume that’s where you should be heading. Thanking the receptionist – though she didn’t exactly do anything but affect your confidence in your outfit – you make your way over to the elevators, getting in as soon as one arrived and jabbing at Valentino’s floor.

Crossing your fingers you wouldn’t meet that particular Overlord, considering the receptionist was a pain in the ass you could only imagine what he would be like and from the horror stories Angel Dust told you – you really didn’t wanna meet him.

Reaching the floor quicker than you expected you straighten out your outfit, slightly regretting the black stilettos but they were the only decent heels you have in your closet for dancing, plus the neon pink on the base matched your accessories and splashes of colour on your dress. You fully embraced the image that you were a bimbo, it helped with tips and your image at work. As a singer and a dancer at one of the clubs on Pride Circle, the dumber you appeared the more people underestimated you. And you just loved it when they underestimated you.

It's where you met Angel Dust, in one of the first clubs that you were working at. Through him you then met Alastor who after hearing you sing a few older songs then allowed you to sing on his Radio Show (on occasion) and from him you then met Rosie who put in a good word for you with your now current boss at one of the more respectable (using that term loosely) clubs in Pride Circle. Which is the only reason why you would enter the Vee’s Tower – you owed Angel Dust a lot this was a small ask.

Stepping onto Valentino’s floor the smell of smoke, sex and sweat hit you like a wall. Flickering your violet eyes around you spied the Spider speaking to the Overlord. Damn. Seeing that the conversation wouldn’t be ending any time soon you huffed under your breath before making your way to them.

“Angel, sugar, you ready to go?” You ask when you reach the two, keeping your gaze on him as from the corner of your eye you see the tall Overlord swivel on the spot. Angel’s eyes connect with yours before trying to hide a grimace.

“Heyyy gorgeous, listen it’s gonna be a little later than we planned I’ve just gotta film one more scene then we can go”, catching the mouthed sorry at the end. Smiling understandingly at him you shrug your shoulders.

“Oh no problemo honey, want me to stay or I can meet you at the club?” secretly crossing your fingers that they’d say to meet you at the club.

“Ah no it’s cool if you stay, right Val? Y/n can stay for the last scene?” Bugger. Turning your winning smile up at the infamous Valentino only to see their stare was focused on you already with an menacing smile pulling his face into a sinister expression which made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.

“Ah the famous Y/n, Angel talks about you all the time – don’t you baby! Course you can stay and watch. What about if you participate as well, I could get you a job princessa, with those legs, boobs and that pout you are a star waiting to happen. I could get a contract written up in seconds if you want-“He pulls a deep drag from his cigarette and blows it all around so you three were in a cloud of hazy red smoke. Holding back a cough you try to keep the smile on your lips.

“Thank you for the offer, Sir, but I am happy with my job at the moment but as soon as I want a change in career, I’ll let you know”, I reply to the Overlord. A bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. Valentino’s anger was legendary. To refuse him was to insult him. And you had done all that within a few moments of meeting him. Plus being close to Angel Dust was another factor against you – he was so jealous over Angel.

His smirk grew as he gazed over your outfit. Well, a smirk was better than shouting, right?

“Shame. You could be a star,” another drag of his cigarette before shrugging you off and directing Angel back to the stage. Quickly winking at the spider, you make your way over to a few chairs that were against the wall. Shrugging your coat off you turn to see a few creeps eyeing you up, bloody perverts. Baring your fangs at them you sit down and yank your phone out from your purse.  

A sigh leaves your lips, crossing your leg over the other, you peruse Sinstagram while trying to block out the sounds coming from Angel and the other demons and sinners in the scene. Checking on the progress of a few photos of the outfit that you shared earlier of what you were wearing tonight which you had tagged in Velvette as she was the designer of your dress: a tight black dress with stripes of neon pink, ruffles of the neon around the off-shoulder neckline and other intricate details – it reminded you of Marilyn Monroes pink dress, so you had saved up for months to buy it. The almost velvet material clung to your curves in the most delicious way and the colours just accentuated your hair, skin, and eyes. If no one could tell - you just loved pink and again it helped the Bimbo image you put across.

Brushing the waves of hair out of your face you look up and again see a certain Overlord’s stare focused on you, his own phone clutched in his hand. Careful not to challenge him by looking at him head on you keep your gaze soft and lowered.  The issue with Valentino was he didn’t always accept no as an answer. And you were so not ready to become a porn star. To be honest since arriving in Hell you hadn’t even entertained any one in your bed. More concerned with getting somewhere safe to live, safe(ish) to work and try not to get mauled, raped or murdered every day seemed to take up your energy. Which is why Angel wanted to go out tonight – to try and get you laid. Chuckling softly as you remembered his horrified face when you said you hadn’t had sex in over a year you let your violet gaze glance over to him. Wincing slightly at the position he was in at the moment, which really could not be comfortable, you let your attention go back to your phone ignoring both the Overlord and Angel as a slight vibrate notified you that a certain Vee had liked your post.

Your mouth opens in shock when you see THE Velvette had liked your photo. Heart racing a little you couldn’t control the smile that stretched across your lips, holding in the little squeal you desperately wanted to let out you settled for giving a little excited wiggle in your seat. Or you were until a shadow encased you. Looking up you lock eyes with the main V. Vox. Uh oh. “And who is this lovely lady, Val?”

Sooooo ... for a first chapter what did ya thinkkkkkk?

A03 Link is here

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #hazbin velvette #hazbin angel oc #hazbin angeldust #vox x reader #valentino x reader #velvette x reader #vox x valentino x velvette #vox x valentino x velvette x reader

[txtmetonight]

I know I love you ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ when a moment of realization flashes–and they know that they love you to the fullest of their heart

pairing *. * Ot5 TXT x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff, slight angst in hyuka's

warnings *. Insecurities in hyuka's, bad grammar (semi-checked)

call duration⋆ ★ 2.6k

a/n*. * This was so fun to write lololol. also idk if anyone has actually noticed, but i'm slowly changing my format hehehe

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet

Yeonjun’s eyes seem to blur, but he supposes that's because the practice room he currently resides in is starting to get to him, like he's hearing voices. The mirror in front of him is dusty, and it's quite a sad sight when he looks at himself—hair disheveled and messy, with his cheeks bitten red like a tomato. It's past midnight, and he knows he should be home, but he can’t find the heart to get up and leave.

The dance isn’t perfect, not to his liking, and it kills him inside as his feet get sloppy and arms start to flail in a nonsensical manner. His legs ache with strenuous pain, but he gets up one more time. Just once more, he promises himself.

Yeonjun knows very well that his words mean nothing but a lie. It’s a never-ending loop that he can’t free himself from. He forces himself up, and his fingers flinch to turn on the speaker. He's hovering over the button, but he can’t seem to move it away.

The clock reads 12:34 when he gets a shrill ring—it scares him half to death. Yeonjun stalks over to his phone and picks it up with a slight interest. It’s you, he realizes, and he doesn’t waste a moment's second to pick up the call.

“Choi Yeonjun, where are you?!”

He chuckles into the receiver. You're amusing, and his eyes crinkle. “Still at practice…” Yeonjun could almost see your grimace on the other side.

You sigh, “Are…are any of the boys with you? Or are you overworking yourself again?”

Choi Yeonjun looks at the empty practice room. He wonders if he should just fib, but for some reason, you've always been good at spotting his lies. You call it your girlfriend instincts; Yeonjun thinks it's pure bullshit. “

The latter,” he finally responds.

You go silent on the call at his words, and he pulls back his phone to make sure the line hasn't cut. It didn’t, so he just stares at your contact photo with a smile. You’re very pretty. But your next blabber is definitely not.

“Choi fucking Yeonjun! You better get your ass back home before I leave you to the streets! Do you hear me?! I am not letting you pass out again! By the time it turns one, you better be here, or I’m stuffing you into our next meal.”

This time you actually cut the call. Yeonjun knows the meaning of your threats and isn’t one to test them, so he hurriedly packs his duffel bag before he locks the door. And as he does, he knows that he’s so unequivocally in love with you—it hurts in a good way.

Choi Yeonjun realizes two things that night. First, you’re entirely scary in your way. And second, he wants to spend the rest of his lifetime and many more lives beyond that with you.

"You’re nowhere in sight. It’s quite unusual – really. Normally, you'd be situated on the couch, scrolling through your phone or reading a book, but for some reason, you aren’t there. Soobin carefully shuts the door and quickly comes to the conclusion of your disappearance; you’ve gone to sleep.

Honestly, he doesn’t blame you. He came home a little late from vocal practice and was tired himself. All he longs to do is cuddle up to your side, preferably forever. Yet he knew from his upcoming schedules that it was going to be a while before he gets his proper break with you.

Still, he smiles at the thought of it. He lets his feet round the corner to the kitchen where he grabs a quick drink of water before making his way to your shared bedroom. Soobin’s arms feel heavy, and his throat is scratchy from all the singing exercises earlier today. All he craves are the warm blankets, but he’s abruptly stopped in his daydreaming about sleep as his hand grasps the doorknob.

“The audacity of this girl!”

You’re not sleeping as he thought you were. And you’re cursing someone out – how interesting. Slowly as ever, Soobin opens the door to find you on your stomach with a computer right in your face, aggressively typing something on the keyboard. Your eyes are so focused on the screen that you don’t notice your boyfriend enter the room!

Taking advantage of your obliviousness, Soobin carefully toes his way to where you lie, just peeking over to see what got you in a twist.

Surprisingly enough, you’re writing a document-sized paragraph on Twitter. It’s filled with cruel words and language that he’s sure don’t comply with the app’s guidelines. He’s now filled with even more wonder.

“Hey honey… what are you doing?” he asks. You jump in your bed, accidentally smashing a couple of keys. Your eyes widen, and you punch a laughing Soobin. “What the hell! How long have you been there?”

He shrugs and takes off his jacket. “Long enough to question who you were bullying.”

You suddenly grow pink. “No… one?”

“Really?” Both of you know that he doesn’t buy the lie you try to feed him. So, you exhale in defeat and timidly stare at your fingers drumming against the computer pad. “Well, I dunno. Some girl was sending a hate train towards you, and I was just defending… your… name. I guess.” You grow quiet at the end, but it was loud enough for the boy to hear.

The silence in the air is loud, but before you could bury yourself in embarrassment in a heap of pillows nearby, Soobin bends to place a kiss on your cheek. He feels like he’s about to pass out, and as his stomach churns with its rollercoaster of emotions, he can’t help but feel an overwhelming feeling of love for you.

It expands in his heart and into his touch as he kisses you again – this time on your lips. He doesn’t know why, but his breathing starts to stutter when you kiss him once more, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt this time.

He relishes the warm feeling before his fingers slide to where your keyboard was pushed to the side. He presses post, and your giddy grin is all it takes for him to kiss your lips again, his hands cupping your face. Choi Soobin thinks that he’s stuck in a pool of undying love – but he’d rather drown than live if his heart wasn’t for you to kiss."

The house is quiet. Except for the quiet chatter of the TV and the slight hums of your voice, as you thread through Beomgyu’s hair.

It's gentle when your fingers softly scratch his scalp, and he feels himself falling into a state of relaxation, his heart thrumming vividly in his chest. Your legs swing next to him where he sits on the ground, playfully poking at his thighs in a comical tease, and you place loving kisses on his head, so tiny and feather-like that he must strain to feel them.

Yet, it makes him feel full and content, so much so that he's undoubtedly about to burst. Soon enough, a scene on the drama you two have been binging—filled with emotions—suddenly causes you to pause the show with a slight furrow in your brow. He looks at you curiously but knows exactly what you're going to say.

And he couldn’t be happier to indulge.

“Oh, that’s so stupid! Who in—what?!” you complain to him. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything but giggles at you. You’re entirely entertaining and quite endearing. As you rant and rant, Beomgyu notices that the strain in his jaw from earlier in the day—which he quickly attributes to being the loud one in the group, the mood maker—was slowly lessening. He could finally smile properly without such a painful toothache. So, he grins at you. You grin back, and it sends butterflies coursing down his throat.

Beomgyu also realizes that he hasn’t spoken once this evening. Yet he hangs onto every word you say, every little movement, every little quirk, and comes to the realization that you don’t expect him to chatter. You really don’t. And that’s what he supposes he really loves about you; that your words make up for his in the silence of times, and you don’t wait for him to do the same, for you know that he cannot.

Choi Beomgyu is a silent motor who dwells in the words of your love, where he will reside forever on.

Taehyun can’t help but glance at his phone, and it’s becoming increasingly frequent as time passes by. He tries not to let it interfere with his dance practice, but he really couldn’t help it. It’s like a magnet, drawing him in.

His friends notice, but they don’t say anything at first; they merely observe his odd behavior. But soon enough, their silence couldn’t be held anymore. Soobin breaks first.

“Is there something wrong with your phone?” he asks, pointing at the device that sits in a chair, right near where Taehyun has wiggled himself too. The boy in question perks up, his eyes flitting around the room, landing on each member before he turns back to Soobin.

“No,” he responds. Beomgyu scoffs at his obvious lying and points his arm at Taehyun’s phone. “Then why do you—” He then turns two fingers around and prods just in front of his eyes. “Keep looking at your phone!”

No one but Kai notices the tinge of red that flourishes on Taehyun’s ears, but his bashfulness could definitely be detected from the flustered smile that he delivers. “I don’t know what you guys mean.” Sure, he does. He was actually waiting for your daily afternoon text that you have yet to send.

Taehyun’s eyebrows furrow before he picks up his phone and scrolls onto your contact. The others sigh at his expense and leave him alone—most have an inkling about his unwarranted distraction, but Taehyun pays no mind to them. He’s on a very important mission.

Swift fingers dance across his keyboard before he shoots a very quick message. Taehyun’s very concerned by your lack of presence today, and his words are direct enough to show it.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Seconds later, several bubble pop up onto his screen. They seem to have a staring contest with Taehyun.

"Yeah. Open the door of your practice room. Kinda have my hands full :))"

The boy doesn’t hesitate to jog to the other end of the room and swing open the said door, to where, behold, you stand, with a great big smile and five plastic bags in hand. The sudden smell of food wafts through the area; and Taehyun doesn’t realize how hungry he really is.

You can tell too; you’d always had him figured out, however far you were from the love of your life. But he can’t stop staring at you until the boys come through and push him away. He guesses that they’ve smelled it too.

“Surprise! I figured that you guys could all take a break and eat lunch.” You press a chaste kiss to Taehyun’s cheek and push past him to put all of the stuff down. The other four boys rampage over to their own bags, screaming their thanks.

You just chuckle, but it slowly diminishes into a sweet smile when you find Taehyun still by the door. His eyes glow when they meet yours, and you gesture to sit next to you. “I love you,” he mouths. He decides that the way your cheeks puff and get red, or the way your lips curl, is what he wants to see in heaven. Or perhaps he’s already there.

It’s the small things, he supposes. The way you care. Like when you pour Beomgyu a drink and give Taehyun and Yeonjun your own food, insisting that you were going to shove it down their throats if they didn’t take it. Or when you ruffle Hyuka’s hair and adjust Soobin’s collar.

Later that day, Yeonjun carries thoughts. Thoughts that he whispers to Taehyun with a jolly grin after you leave on your merry way. “You better not lose her. I’ll kick you off the group if you do.”

Kang Taehyun has never believed in soulmates until you came along and stole his heart.

It’s another one of those days. Where light usually shone, it was covered in bleak clouds, ones that Kai couldn’t escape from however hard he tried. He’s stuck in forever darkness that seems to consume him whole, eating away at his heart.

The pain is unbearable; it brings forth a few tears from his eyes. They feel like acid against his skin, and he wishes to be free from the pain of his insecurities. His hair flops in front of him, and one could assume that he uses it like a mask, hiding himself away until only a shell remains.

Kai doesn’t like looking in the mirror – he has known that from the moment such dark weather clouded his sight. And so, his reflection is slashed, covered in blood he has never asked for. It’s quite horrible when it's about himself. Then it gets worse when it extends to his bandmates – his platonic soulmates.

And finally, when his wobbly thoughts traverse your way, his stomach aches, and his heart falls apart into puzzle pieces that cannot fit. He greatly wonders how you can even put up with him and his miserable attire. Kai thinks that he’s tired of himself – but why aren’t you? As a solution to his problems, he has holed himself in his room, but you have a different answer to his questions.

You give three swift knocks on the door, each loud and firm, before you unlock the door and enter. Kai doesn’t dare to look you in the eye, but he feels your glowing stare on him. He doesn’t know what to do but weakly rejects your advance.

“Just… just leave me alone,” he says.

You don’t respond. He tries again. “(Y/n), seriously! Please!”

This time, your strides stop. And nothing more. Kai questions if you’ve melted to the ground, but alas, you have not when you sigh and exclaim.

“I would, but our son misses you!” Pause. What? Kai shoots his head up, in a query that shoots confusion down his spine. Yet he feels that tinge of a chuckle in the back of his throat. How do you do that to him so easily? When he stares up at you, your hands are behind your back, and you’re pouting. He decides to ask his question.

“What are you talking about…?”

You grin at him and swing your arms forward to reveal a tiny penguin plushie. “Our son, of course! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about him?!” Kai shakes his head. “No, of course not.”

This 'son' of his was actually a prize that was won from an arcade game. You’ve officially adopted him ever since. “Well… he told me that he really misses you.”

You take a step forward and lean down towards him. Your eyes observe his face, and they take in the expanse of his beauty. He wishes to cower away, but you don’t let him as you take your son’s tiny flappy fins and put it on your boyfriend’s face.

“We hate seeing you cry, my pretty boy,” you say as you wipe away his tears with the soft fabric. They soothe his burns. At last, you put the plushie away next to him and lean a little closer, just where his heartbeat resides on his neck. It beats with yours.

“I love you.” You kiss his heart.

Huening Kai thinks that you’ve just mended his puzzle-piece heart into such a beautiful picture of his irrevocable love for you – bigger and more stunning than any masterpiece created on this cruel earth. And you deserve much more.

#txt x reader #k-labels #txt #tomorrow x tomorrow #tomorrow by together imagine #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #Yeonjun x reader #Soobin x reader #Beomgyu x reader #Taehyun x reader #huening kai x reader #kpop x reader #kpop ff #kpop fanfic #kpop #huening kai #huening txt #txt taehyun #choi beomgyu #choi yeonjun #choi soobin

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

A NOT SO MEET CUTE ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

| percy jackson x popstar au

| au masterlist ☽

summary: the first time you and percy meet isn't the best of circumstances and opinions are formed

warnings: swearing and i think thats just about it!

a/n: *in announcer voice* hello and welcome to my first au series, percy and the popstar - help the first time i thought of that my mind went to 'the princess and the popstar' 😭 - im using gracie, masie peters and taylor swift lyrics and faceclaims because im unoriginal as shit :) so if i've used a ts lyric and she's also liked a post lets just collectively ignore that okay!! anyway its unedited but i hope you enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!!

~~~

percy jackson is famous.

ok thats putting it lightly, percy jackson is extremely famous. in fact he is one of the youngest million-almost-billion-aires in the world. the twenty-two year old has an incredible influence on the world. how he got famous? no one really knows.

maybe its the fact that society drops at the feet of any good-looking rich boy. or maybe he actually did work for it like the rest of the word, we'll never know.

but.

y/n l/n is even more famous.

she's a force to be reckoned with, taking the world by storm with her music and setting the industry alight with her influence. she's got power, beauty and talent and she's not afraid to show it, the recently-turned twenty-one year old has turned the world on its head. case and point; her world tour that she's embarked on. y/n l/n switched things up and instead of starting in the u.s she's finishing here in good ol' new york!

l/n has one final show in florida and two more in boston and then we welcome her home to nyc.

why am i writing an article about y/n l/n and percy jackson i hear you ask? because the young celebrities were both spotted at a high end restaurant in florida, whether they were actually together or not remains to be discovered...

~~~

"would you put your phone down?" lia sighs, setting down an iced coffee in front of you. "you've been staring at that article all morning- its not even a credible source. its probably just some random high schooler blogging."

"i know," you huff and glare at her when she steals your phone from you. "but seriously? percy jackson? come on! i've never even met the guy."

"ooh he is yummy," lia says looking at your phone, at the photo of percy that was pasted at the top of the article. "i mean, ew yucky, he's like the ugliest person ever, i definitely don't want to bang him."

"bang him?" you laugh. "please for the love of god, never say that again."

lia just shrugs and picks up her own coffee taking a sip. "it's trueee."

sighing you lean back into your seat and look around the extravagant living room you're both currently resting in. its a few hours before you have to start getting ready for your final show here in florida and you can feel the anticipation starting to build under your skin.

"omigoshlookatthis," lia shrieks shoving your phone into your face.

"are you seriously stalking his instagram right now?" you raise your eyebrows at her.

"what? as i said he. is. hot."

your eyes flick quickly over his instagram not really seeing the appeal - sure he's good looking in a noticeable, obvious kinda way - but all he seems to post is pictures of him and how rich he is. ugh. be more creative - his insta is like every other boys. shirtless pics and vacations.

then your eyes settle on one thing in particular. "wait! you followed him?"

"shit," lia's eyes widen. "fuck this isn't going to help is it?"

"do something!" you shriek leaping off the couch. "do something! unfollow him! do something!"

"shit shit shit shit," lia cries as you both fly around the room in hysteria - you're both acting like teenage girls honestly - but at this point you don't care.

"fix it! fix it!"

"ok ok! done! i unfollowed him." lia's quiet for a moment and then she panics again. "ahhh fuck he's ONLINE!"

"noooooo! do you think he saw it?" you slap lia in the shoulder. "LIA!" hands shaking as you slump back down. "fuck. oh my god. this is going to be all over the internet."

"it'll be okay," lia comforts sitting down next to you. "it's not like you're famous or anything."

~~~

just now

yn.user followed you

"PERCY FUCKING JACKSON WHAT DID YOU DO?"

those aren't usually percy's favorite words. so when he hears grover yelling this from the hotel bathroom - why the bathroom? don't ask.

"what? what?" percy yells back.

"PERCY MOTHER FUCKING JACKSON WHAT DID YOU DO?" okayyy thats is definitely not good if luke was yelling at him too.

"WHAT?" percy yells back.

"PERCY-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU SAY WHAT DID YOU DO ONE MORE TIME-"

luke and grover both stalk into the living room with chris and clarisse hot on their heels all supporting bewildered looks on their faces.

"do you know y/n l/n?" grover asks narrowing his eyes.

"the singer right?" percy asks confused still.

"check your insta right now," clarisse jumps in.

percy still confused as ever pulls out his phone eyebrows nearly springing off his face when he sees the notification on insta.

"wait what?"

"y/n l/n followed you for like two minutes and then unfollowed you again. its all over twitter, instagram, everything - especially after that dumb article went around," luke explains.

"it doesn't matter," percy sighs chucking his phone back onto the couch beside him.

"uh yes it does!" grover practically yells. "do you know where we're all going tonight? to her concert! this is going to feed every horny teenage girls dream." grover shoots percy an exasperated look. "my god, the rumours and theories that are gonna come out after this is insane."

"who cares what people think about us? it isn't true. besides y/n is probably one of those girls."

"those girls?" clarisse asks her eye brows raised.

"y'know, pretentious little daddy's girls who clearly have everything handed to them on a silver platter? those girls."

"whatever you say dumbass," chris chuckles.

"we're going to that concert tonight, percy," grover says turning on him. "shit is going to hit the fan because of it, but we're going. because i paid a fortune for those tickets and clarisse and i really wanna see y/n."

"whatever you say buddy, whatever you say."

☾. ⋅

yn.user

liked by oliviarodrigo, sabrinacarpenter, lia.mandel and 342, 789 others

yn.user florida!!! is one hell of a drug! thank you so much for the love and support you've shown me these past few night florida!!! you've been an amazing audience and i can't wait to come back here 🤍🩵

view all comments

user1 omg omg best night of my lifeee

user2 is that a possible song lyric i see there???

user3 omfg it could be. the three !!! at the end of both floridas??

user4 everybody wake up y/n has posted!

user7 did anyone else see her follow percy jackson and then unfollow him??? no just me?

user6 holy shit yess i saw that

user5 i smell a new ship brewing

user8 WAIT didn't he go to last night's show??

user10 why isn't he waiting for the new york concerts? he lives there right? why go allll the way to florida?

user9 mother is mothering

☾. ⋅

"i told you this would happen!" you huff to lia when she walks into your bedroom a few mornings later. "my entire comment section has been filled with people questioning about percy! i've never even met the guy!"

lia who had been assigned the role - self-assigned - the role to get you out of bed just rolls her eyes and drags the covers off you. "i know as you keep saying. but there is nothing we can do about it- short from announcing that it was a mistake. no one will even believe that anyway, so just let it go."

reluctantly you leave the comfort of your bed and slip into the clothes lia had picked out, trailing after her like a lost puppy. this usually happens between concerts, you return home and rest in your bed (with lia more often than not) not leaving it unless you need to, then lia comes parading in and announces that you're going out and since you have little fight left in you - you always agree.

ignoring the countless paparazzi as you make your way into the cafe you listen to lia as she blabs on about how she's never going to forgive you for not telling her you were adding a new song to your setlist without telling her.

you're so wrapped up in your own head you don't even see the person in front of you until you're slamming into them. and they've spilt coffee down your front.

"ah shit."

"fuck sorry."

you look up and its none other than the percy jackson. well hey! you've officially met him now!

"you good?" percy asks glasses and a cap cover his face but you still recognise him - what? lia's obsessed. and you were subjected to listen about her love for him - and the tone of his voice already pissed off and bored. it's like he was concerned until the second he recognised you. rude.

he doesn't even spare you a second glance before he's flipping you off.

"excuse me?" you say pulling his hand down. "did you just flip me off?"

percy's face pulls into a smirk and you just look up at him in disgust, brush past him and say "whatever asshole." at the same time he says. "later bitch."

fucker you're both thinking.

☾. ⋅

☾. ⋅

TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you] @lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle, @lara20aral [if you want to be added just let me know!]

#percy x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy x y/n #percy x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fic #percy pjo #percy jackson #fanfic #fanfiction #percy x popstar au ₊ ⊹ #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my partner to stop bringing up the fact that they're undiagnosed

Submitted: 19/04/2024

(💑♾️)

I've (18FtM) been with my partner Brit (17F) for 3 years now, we met in high school and have since graduated. In that time, I've worked with multiple professional to seek therapy and diagnosis for my multiple conditions, two of them being ADHD (combination) and Autism. Brit along with my childhood best friend were actually the first people to suggest I could be Autistic and should look into evaluation for both, not just ADHD, which I had been suspecting for a while. Obviously I was excited about my diagnosis because I am finally recognised and am able to get accommodations, talk about it outside my immediate circle of friends and accept myself without doubt that I have this.

Immediately after my diagnosis, I started to talk to Brit about how amazing it feels. And how excited I am to be able to have an explanation for a lot of my issues both growing up and currently, accommodations and other things too. Brit suspects they are likely autistic too and used to think they had ADHD before being evaluated, and it returned with a negative result. I still think they feel annoyed about, since they constantly bring up the fact that they don't think the evaluation was accurate because they lied during it to make their symptoms seem less obvious out of fear of the diagnosis at the time. They've tried to ask their mom to be evaluated for Autism, but their mum refuses to, as she has multiple reasons to not believe that they do and refuses to think anything could be wrong with her child. Brit doesn't have enough money on their own to get an evaluation (Mine cost a couple of thousands, and that was on the cheaper end). I have been talking to Brit about my diagnosis for a few days and how happy I am and every time I talk about it, they constantly bring up how lucky I am and that I don't need to brag and saying “I wonder how that feels”. At first, I tried to understand what they are going through because I get what it's like to suspect you have something but not have the resources or the doctors that can properly evaluate you, but after the 5 or 6th time it feels very degrading, invalidating and demeaning. I don't understand why they can't just be happy for me as their partner and not let it reflect on them. I've been thinking about just telling them to shut up the next time they bring it up as it's really getting on my nerves, I feel that I have the right to be happy about the diagnosis and not have to worry about upsetting my partner for whatever personal battles they have going on with them. Furthermore, I do listen to them and comfort them when they're upset about their own experience, but it feels like they're making my own experience into their own. I've been thinking of texting them that being undiagnosed doesn't mean they can invalidate my experience and that it isn't all about them, that they can just be happy for me and that it feels like shit to be happy about something that someone else is so negative about even though it has nothing to do with me. So, WIBTA if I told my partner to be quiet about not being diagnosed

#aita #am i the asshole

[canmargesimpson]

Spring Cleaning

I believe that Steve's mom was a bit of a control freak. I mean, she went on business trips with her own husband to make sure she wasn't cheating on him. so she clearly likes to have her own rules in her house. 

i mean she went on a trip with her husband to make sure he didn't do anything sus. So I feel like she would also be this clean freak, every spring, she would tell Steve to clean his entire bedroom and get rid of the things she didn't need. After a while, this became a bit of a habit for Steve, so, when spring arrived and the sun started shining once again, he would clean his entire room and re-organize everything.

Later, when he is about to move in with Eddie, he realizes his room is a complete disaster. So he went full on mom mode. He summoned the entire party, put on an apron that said “Mom’s kitchen!” and bought a bunch of cleaning products (most of them he knew for cleaning after a party). At first Eddie thought Steve was messing with him, but when he showed up with the kids and the offer for them to clean his room, he was left with no choice but to say yes. And so they got to work.

First they took off all of the posters, in which Eddie was very whiny about, saying that if they broke them or even wrinkle them, he was going to sue. Then went to the closet, in which Steve, Robin and Nancy took care of. Lucas took the records and boxes of music outside to organize them next to Max, who was just sunbathing. Will, Dustin and Erica took care of the books that were everywhere. Like… Everywhere. 

“Why would you leave a book in the oven?” Dustin exclaimed as he took the collection of Sunglasses After Dark books

“Cuz i had no place to leave them” he shrugged as he turned around and kept trying to keep calm at everyone touching his stuff

Mike and Eleven were in charge of collecting the plates, empty beer cans, and food which were laying around. Finally, Argyle and Jonathan were in charge of organizing what was for donations, trash, and to keep. BUT, Argyle was lucky enough to find some edibles and weed treats and they both ended up high as hell on the couch watching looney toons. They weren’t much help at the end of the day, but at least they didn’t stand in everyone’s way. After organizing the clothes from the category, they sat and tried to see which ones were appropriate to keep, which were clean, and which were… actually clothes.

“Oh I missed this shirt!” Eddie took it from robin and raised it to see the cover of a weird ass band album cover.

“Mama’s boy? Really?” steve raised a eyebrow at his boyfriend

“Hell yeah! in 1985, they opened for Joan Jett and The Blackhearts, it was a hell of a night. I got the cassette too! Hold on” he ran outside to find lucas and max laughing

“Red, Lucas, Mama’s Boy, Power and Passion” 

“Let me- god where did I leave the M…”

“Third box, right after Malice” Max said nonchalantly, leaving both boys astounded and she just smiles “just because im blind doesn't mean i can’t see anything” 

Lucas took the cassette and handed it to eddie who was quickly inside and went to the trailer and placed the cassette in the player and connected it with the speakers, and pressed play, and the music started ( lol this is the link of the album, since its not in spotify, it should tho, their music is great tho)

“Wait…” Robin called as everyone turned to her “Why do you have like… four of their shirts?”

“Well…” eddie bit his lip and looked away trying to come up with an excuse… but at this point, he had no option but to tell the truth “I MAY have… slept with the drummer, and i might have stolen them”

“You what now?” steve smiled a little confused

“It was like, 3 years ago Stevie, don’t worry, he probably doesn't remember.” he reassured

“You slept with a drummer from a famous band?”

“Well i have fucked more famoust people, Tommy McManus is a particle compered to what i have gone through” he shows off but when he turns to his boyfriend with an un amused face

“Who then?

Eddie started laughing nervously, looking around for help, but robin and nancy were trying not to laugh while Dustin and Erica were clearly enjoying this.

“Joey Tempest… from Europe…”

“You fucked a Eurpoean?”

“ i mean, he is from sweden, and his in the band called Europe, but yeah”

“Do they sing a song we may know?”

Eddie’s cheek turned bright red as Steve looked at him with such an intimidating stare, it was too pretty for Eddie to say no to.

“You know… It the final countdown, tanana, tananana, tanana, tanananananana aaa” eddie sang in a low voice, pretty embarrassed of the situation he’s in

“Oh my god” Steve rolled his eyes and groaned

“You slept with carol perkins while she was dating tommy!” 

“Don’t you dare play the carol card on me right now!”

After a long discussion over each other's sex lives, they got back to cleaning and organizing, till the sun was setting.  They all ended up on the couch, in front of the tv, discussing which movie to watch. Their options were Howard the Duck, Mary Poppins, and Lawrence of Arabia, in which they chose Mary poppins. Steve ordered a pizza for everyone, and when Wayne came back, he could help but to join the kids watching the childish movie. They eat everylast pizza piece, and they all fall asleep on the couch munched together, and it was too cute not to take a picture, so wayne grabbed Eddie’s polaroid, snapped them a picture, which ended up the first frame that was hanged in the Munson - Harrington flat.

#by: me #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #ronance #steddie fic

[harmonicakai]

I Bet on Losing Dogs

Pairing: Beomgyu x Reader

Summary: Your insecurities get the best of you and you abandon your relationship with Beomgyu in the worst way possible.

Tropes: friends with benefits, angst, college AU, band AU

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), emotional unavailability, slut shaming, no happy ending :-(

A/N: This is SAD because I am currently sad and also I didn’t bother to edit it. Apologies in advance to the Beomgyu biased readers bc I know this is not what anybody asked for </3

“You disappeared Like a faint ghost I bury it in the air What am I to you?” —Ghosting, TXT

You’re a horrible person.

Really, you should’ve broken things off with Beomgyu before they even began. It’s never a good idea to be friends with benefits with somebody you actually like. 

You do your best to distract yourself from confessing your love to him by sleeping with other guys. What started bright and electric between the two of you has fizzled with each encounter, his touch now feeling dull and hollow on your skin.

So, when you wake up next to him after a movie night, your stomach drops when you see the marks he’s left on your neck. Everybody will know what you get up to, if they haven’t already been gossiping about it behind your back.

There’s a numbness to the way you slip out of his apartment without so much as a goodbye. If you had woken him up, he would’ve noticed the sad look on your face and canceled all of his plans to spend the day making you feel better.

You don’t deserve his friendship, let alone his love, although he's only confessed the latter when he thinks you’re asleep and can’t hear him. Or, sometimes Huening Kai will let it slip how much Beomgyu talks about you when they’re away.

The walk home is brutal. You’re even wearing the jacket he’s refused to let you give back to him, knowing that if you had left it behind, he’d surely know something was wrong.

When he notices you’re gone, he shoots you a text about Merriam-Webster’s word of the day. Beomgyu has never cared for linguistics, but he knows you’re a real nerd about this kind of stuff. You decide not to reply.

Things would be much easier if you could just disappear out of his life, but the two of you have become so intertwined that it’s impossible. All of your friends are his friends.

Before him, you were just some quiet girl who shrunk away in the back of the classroom. After getting paired up and reading the poetry you managed to dream up, Beomgyu knew he had to get to know you more.

For most guys, the way he acts with you would come off as desperate. But he’s so earnest in his admiration for you and your talent that there’s simply no way he could possibly be faking it.

The first time you had gotten together was an honest mistake. You had been dumped, again, and he was there for you. It seems like he always is every time another man decides you aren’t worth his time.

It’s not that you don't love him. You do, as much as you’re able to. But you know that if you actually took things to the next level and they didn’t work out, it would break you entirely.

Still, is ghosting him without any sort of reason or explanation any better?

With finals in full swing, you know you’ve got the perfect excuse to be distant for a while. It’s the summertime that you’re worried about. Beomgyu has made sure to include you in every plan of his that he thinks you’d like, sometimes even arranging entire days around you in between his band’s schedules.

Really, the easiest way out is to start dating someone else. It always makes Beomgyu shrink further away from you to know that you will consistently pick someone else over him, although he’s secretly satisfied when things inevitably go sour. He hates knowing that the only thing that drives you into his arms is being rejected by somebody else, but he wants you too much to care.

The two of you talk about everything except how you feel about him, and he knows that he isn’t entitled to any of your emotions. You’ve made it clear from the start that you’re never going to be able to reciprocate in the way that he’d like for you to.

You weren’t always like this. At the start of college, you came in with the idea that you’d fall in love and have your happily ever after. But years of being used for your body and consequently dumped without reason has ripped your heart off your sleeve.

The way Beomgyu worships the ground you walk on makes no sense. You hate yourself. Maybe he just wants something to fix, and once you finally open up to him, he’ll leave you just like everybody else.

The thought makes no sense knowing him, but it’s the driving force in never confessing how you actually feel. So, you offer up yourself physically in the hopes that it’s enough, but it always leaves you feeling empty inside afterward. No amount of kisses or compliments will probably ever change that.

Among his bandmates, you’re closest to Yeonjun. He’s the only one who knows that you love Beomgyu just as much, maybe even more, than he loves you. 

It was revealed through a drunken confession at a frat party the weekend Beomgyu went home for his mom’s birthday, where you immediately got embarrassed and proceeded to go home with the first guy who gave you any sort of attention.

Meaningless sex is really the only way you can get off these days, but the act always leaves you feeling worse than feeling nothing at all with Beomgyu. But if you’re never going to be good enough, pure enough, to truly deserve him, then what’s the harm in another hook up?

You know that every time he finds out you've been with somebody else, you’re breaking his heart. It’s just that there’s so much love from him to go around that it never actually makes a difference in how he treats you. He has the biggest heart you’ve ever seen and you don’t even have the decency to not trample all over it.

You wonder if everybody else also agrees that you’re not good enough for him. They’re so nice whenever you’re around, but you’ve seen men turn into monsters behind your back. For your sake, you try not to think about anybody else's opinion besides Beomgyu’s, but even those thoughts weigh heavy on your shoulders.

After a few days of not returning his texts, he finally musters up the courage to call you. Before you can pick up, your phone sends him to voicemail, and you know that’ll be enough of a sign for him to leave you alone.

It isn’t until you run into him dropping off your poetry final in the writing department’s office that he truly sees what’s become of you.

You haven’t slept properly in days, and you barely eat. Your eyes are constantly puffy from crying all the time, and today is no different. Seeing you like this devastates him.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you from running away. His demand for an explanation on where you’ve been and why is stuck inside his throat, and instead, only sobs come out of his mouth.

Beomgyu never cries, and watching as he tries to hide the tears running down his face reminds you that he must be hurting just as much as you are. You want so badly to hold him and apologize, but all you do is stare.

Eventually, he manages to collect himself as much as he can, taking in the irreparable damage you’ve caused one last time.

“Here,” he says, digging in his backpack and handing you a stapled stack of papers. It’s his final project. “I’ll go print another. I want you to read these. Please, promise me you’ll read them.”

You accept the papers, your eyes skimming over the lines of poetry on the first page. It's about you. You flip through the rest of the stack. They're all about you.

It takes everything in you not to start crying too, although you’re so exhausted that you don’t think anything would even come out at this point.

“I promise,” you assure him, although neither of you know if you’re telling the truth.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9 @baekberrie

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don't want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to make a note <3

#txt #tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt fic #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt angst #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu txt #choi beomgyu #txt beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu angst #beomgyu smut #beomgyu imagines

[livelaughlovesubs]

Incubus Fyodor 2

Part one

My last repost for a while, the next part will be out in a month or so :>

Dom!reader x sub!fyodor

Warning: teasing, hierophilia, manhandling, otherwise pretty tame

You were minding your own business as always, since today was a mass at the church you were in charge of. Running around all day and helping with preparations, then reading verses as well as singing songs in the main hall. It was a busy day, so much that it annoyed your lovely little pet. From the moment the sun shone til the afternoon, you didn’t even get to spare him a glance, and he couldn’t visit you neither. Wait, why couldn’t he, what was stopping him?

Long story short, that is why he dressed up as a nun and decided to pay you a visit, sneaking into the building. He put on a confident air, as if it was normal for him to walk around like that. The costume was perfect, it covered his face almost entirely and the long robe hid his tail. When he found you, his heart skipped a beat. It was so much more intense seeing you in this setting, how everyone was looking up at you in awe. The incubi found himself admiring you in silence, until he got reminded of his mission. He waited on the sidelines until you were done, following you down the hallways. Fyodor really thought you didn’t notice him, or rather didn’t recognise him, but you already knew the moment he entered. You could find him even if he was a needle in an ocean.

Suddenly you made a turn at the last corner, into the direction of the confessing rooms. The boy just followed you stupidly, looking around before stepping inside the small cabine. The next thing he knew was how he got pushed against the wall, the veil fell from his head and revealed his face. “Wha-” he yelped slightly, the hit hurt him a little. “Oh? So it’s my little incubus who followed me around.” You said with an amused tone, as if you were expecting him. “Dressed up as a nun? Have you finally acknowledged your pitiful self, and decided to reach out to god?” “Ha-huh...no, I was just…err.” Fyodor struggled to find the right words, what was there to misunderstand? What could he have said to escape this embarrassing situation?

“I just missed you... master.” In the end, he decided to just flirt, putting on his best pitiful face and pouting softly. A scheming smile behind that facade. “Is that so? What exactly did you miss?” Pressing him against the wood, gazing over your shoulder to make sure the curtains were hiding you two nicely. It was truly cramped as hell, but you would manage, you had to. “What do you mean?” He asked, staring at you with a sincere expression. You weren’t sure if he was just acting naive or actually confused. “I mean if you missed me, or something else.” Then with a swift move, you pulled his pants down to his ankles. A shocked gasp following, yet no objection could be heard. Afterwards you picked the male up, his slim body pressed against you, legs wrapped around your waist as you slam him further against the wall. “UgH! Wha-what..?” “Wrap your arms around my neck, I can’t hold you forever.” Fyodor did as you instructed, lessening some of the burden on you.

This position was rather vulgar, especially considering the fact that you two were in a church. During a mass, on a sunday, paired with many visitors. Your faces were so close to each other, due to the limited space you two had. “Right now..?” He asked gently, not a hint of fear or nervousness was present, instead ecstasy and anticipation was filling his voice. Seems like he finally caught on to your intentions, “yes, right now.” Was what you said, it was times like this that he was happy you were his master. “But there are still visitors outside..” you chuckled into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine, “I didn’t know you cared about such things, fyodor.” Right, he didn’t, he couldn’t care less wether which unfortunate soul will hear you two. “Or maybe you don’t want to?” Now you were teasing him, feeling quite entertained at his antics. “Of course I want it~ do as you please then..! <3”

#sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub bsd #sub bungou stray dogs #sub fyodor #fyodor bungo stray dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor bungou stray dogs #fyodor bsd #fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x you #fyodor smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor dostoyevsky smut

[justwonder113]

Head over heels - Lee Know

Warning: Mentions of drinking, Minho is a bit tipsy but he's sober by the end of it. Rader is getting hit on by some weird dude. Slightly suggestive at the end. Minho is staring at the reader's chest. GN reader. Not proofread. Please tell me if I missed anything

Masterlist

A/N- I'm finally back!! Thankfully I got over the virus and more than dedicated to write as much as I can. I have many ideas and can't wait to write all of them. Thank you for all the love and support you've given me it truly means the world to me. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. If you have any requests too feel free to do so. Take care of yourselves, love you all❤️

When is the right time to say that you're head over heels in love with someone? Perhaps when they do something really romantic and/or selfless. Something probably really kind and generous, something really cool... Probably not when they are dazed from having a bit too much to drink and look like they are about to fall asleep any given second now, right? Yup, you were definitely weird, probably the main reason you and Minho clicked this well. Okay in your defense you knew you were smitten with him for a while, it just downed on you though how down bad you actually were.

Really though. To think that you would realize that you're in love with your best friend when his like anywhere but this world is beyond crazy, even for you.

"Pretty boy do you want me to bring you some water?" You asked after seeing him blink slowly yet another time. You were at this club Hyunjin had invited you at. The music was blasting on the full volume and everyone was having the time of their life, well maybe except you and Minho. Normally you would be also be having fun with your friends but now everything felt a bit dull. Maybe because you didn't drink anything. You had bad flu earlier and you just didn't feel like drinking today. As for Minho, normally the drinks didn't get to him that easily, but he wad been overworking himself a lot lately and due to the fatigue even such small amount of alcohol as two or three shots got to him pretty easily.

Looked at you with dazed eyes for a second or two, as if trying to gather his thoughts. Something glimmered in his already sparkly eyes and he gave you a small smile. God, he looked so squishy and cute like this you wanted to pinch his cheeks. Not that you would, he had this tough persona to keep. Also not to sound weird but you didn't want others to notice how cute he was. Let's just say you wanted to gatekeep him for yourself.

After Minho gave you a small nod you got up and headed to the bar. There were a lot of people in line so you would probably have to wait quite a while to get something as simple as glass of water. You texted Minho that this could take a minute or two and started waiting for your turn. Meanwhile from the corner of your eye you saw someone shamelessly check you out, like, could they be any more obvious about it? You prayed that he wouldn't approach you while you also crossed your fingers for the bartender to hurry up. You decided to ignore it. You didn't see anything.

Unfortunately your prayers hadn't been answered, the sleazy man decided to approach you, honestly the audacity some people had. You tried to keep your distance but it was all in vain. The man stood in front of you now. He even made a show of slowly checking you out. God what a pig. You really tried your best to compose yourself, you really didn't need to make a scene now.

"Hello. Gorgeous can I buy you a drink?" God even his voice was so annoying. You reminded yourself that you needed to keep calm. With the most polite voice you could muster you answered that you were good and that you were with someone. But the dude still kept pestering, making your blood boil even more. Who the hell did he think he was? You had enough of this, you were about to warn him that you would call the security on him, when hands wrapped around you. You stiffened for a second, but relaxed when you noticed that it was Minho. The strange man grumbled. "Shit, boyfriend of yours?"

Minho answered before you could, his hands tight around your waist, his glare cold as ice. "Yes, now fuck off." The man was about to argue but Minho's death glare shut him up quickly. The man slithered away to disturb someone else you guessed.

You turned your full attention to Minho, who kept hugging you and now had rested his head on your shoulder. He still felt sleepy you guessed. "You took too long." He grumbled after a few seconds of silence. You turned your head and kissed the top oh his head. Minho grunted again. "Sorry pretty boy. Let's get you that water." You took a step towards the bar but Minho stopped you.

"Don't want it anymore."

You fully turned to Minho and started closely examining him, his face was unreadable though.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Just tired. Can I stay at yours?" You thought for a minute jokingly which Minho didn't really appreciate which he showed by softly pinching your side. Really, what was up with him being all cute today? You couldn't help yourself and you gave him a little peck on his cheek.

"Sure." Minho didn't say something, and you couldn't read anything on his face. He held his hand towards you and after you held it he started leading you to others so that you could say your goodbyes.

The walk to your house wasn't long. You appreciated the comfortable silence between you two. It was peaceful. You also loved how extra protective Minho was over you, he didn't let go of your hand whole way. Your heart felt like it would burst from joy.

You sighed in relief once you walked into the safehold of your house. It felt so good to be home. Like the two youthful people you were you immediately started getting ready for bed. You of course on top that pestered Minho to drink plenty of water before going to sleep. You didn't want him to wake up with a hangover. Surprisingly he was being obedient. You also couldn't help but admit that sleepy Minho was absolutely adorable. To you he just looked so soft and squishy all you wanted to do was to cover his whole face with kisses.

You tried to get ready for bed as fast as possible, but the chains you had worn today didn't really let you. They managed to get stuck and you didn't really feel like going to sleep in them. So you turned to Minho who laid across on your bed. Diagonally like a sweet person he was. He had changed into the sweats and oversized shirt he had left at your house but as it seemed he got lazy to get under the covers. "Min can you help me with these?" You asked sweetly as possible. Minho didn't answer and you thought that he fell asleep again laying diagonally on your bed, but he got up after a couple of seconds. He looked at you with unimpressed eyes waiting for you to ask what you wanted. You motioned towards your bundled up chains. Minho grumbled again but immediately started working on it.

The chains were more tangled up than you could imagine. Minho kept grumbling about how he should just snap them but still kept deligently working through every knot. You had no idea how did they get so tangled up on your neck. You got curious on what was taking so long and looked down and only when did you notice that upper buttons were open and you were showing quite a decent amount of cleavage. You felt shy for a second but then as if on cue you noticed how Minho's eyes kept shifting down towards your exposed skin. Let's just say it was a nice ego boost. Subtly as possible you even straightened up a little so you could show off your assets better. You didn't know if Minho knew you did that on purpose but his eyes sure did appreciate the sight. You didn't even realize you were staring at him, before he looked up and your eyes met. Suddenly you felt lost at words. How was he so gorgeous? You could only gulp and just stare at him.

"I did it." He spoke calmly as he placed your chain on your hands. "I think I know how you should thank me." Was it you or was he really close? You could even feel his breath on your skin. Your eyes couldn't help but shift fom his eyes down to his pretty lips. What were you even doing? Minho noticed your wandering eyes, his gaze also shifted down to your lips.

His finger touched under your chin and slowly lifted your face so that you were eye to eye again.

"What do you have in mind?" You found your voice after a few long seconds of being rendered speechless.

"I want to kiss you so bad." Minho's confession sent shivers down your spine. Good thing that you were sitting on your bed, you felt like you would fall otherwise. You felt like fanning yourself, your whole body felt so hot.

"What's stopping you then?" You quipped back, he was so close now with each breath your lips slightly grazed each other.

"Nothing." His voice was raw with emotion. You didn't even get to say anything, his lips were on you in matter of milliseconds. The kiss was raw, passionate. It ignited you, you felt alive now that you had the taste of his lips. It was everything and so much more, it was like he tried to convey his feelings with this kiss.

Guess you were not the only one head over heels for the other.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #lee know #lee know fanfic #lee know fic #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #lee know scenarios #lee know skz #lee know stray kids #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #leeknow #lee know x gn reader

[the-cards-she-wont-show]

TTPD Twin Storylines weaved together & double meanings throughout! ✌️👯‍♀️💕

Attention ALL Swifties (particularly Gaylors) and associates of the Tortured Poets department

PLEASE READ!! (and read with an open mind!!)🤍

Listening to the amazing TTPD on repeat this past week, I am certain that I have made an important discovery that I haven't seen talked about anywhere else yet and would like to get the coversation going, in hopes that Taylor will see that we are all finally listening to her! I'm still piecing everything together, as there is so much to unravel and am far from calling myself an expert on her exact timelines and dates, so am looking forward to hearing thoughts from others that are more knowledgable in her history.

I have been of the belief for a while now that Mastermind and Dear Reader were foretelling of her future, and also that the album title had a double meaning (evidenced by the lack of apostrophe in 'poets'). That the tortured poet would be departing. Note that I am also a believer that she has been closeted by those closest to her and is preparing to ruin her name and perceived reputation, give up the false public version of herself and come into her own true self. Everything as we know it will be destroyed and it is all playing out now, coming together as part of her plan.

Falling in line with all of the two's - the double album, the double meaning in the album name, the two sides of taylor etc, I have found that there are two intertwining stories told throughout her tracklist, AND that all songs also have a double meaning!! None of which are about the perceived muses of Travis, Matty or Joe. The 'evidence' for those relationships are all red herrings (for example 'putting narcotics into all of my songs' - but only in the songs with obvious reference to her beards), to make it seem ambiguous and open to interpretation of who the songs may be about, which is seen often throughout her discography. She uses an incredible amount of metaphors and we must look beyond those to decipher her lyrics - do not take anything at face level with Taylor. Most should realise that she is so much smarter than making obvious songs about whichever male muse she is 'dating' at the time. She has always played into that public view to cover her true self. Many songs have themes of secret and hidden love, which juxtaposes with the public 'relationships' she is seen as having.

She tells us in 'The Manuscript' that "lookin' backwards might be the only way to move forward". Therefore we must listen to TTPD in reverse, from track 31 (13 reversed!) to track 1. I believe The Manuscript also acts as a bookend for both of her stories and should be listened to as a closer after the last song of the story 'Fortnight' ends, to get a complete picture. Once we have listened to the album in reverse order, can we see so plainly that each song tells a different story of a period/situation/muse/love/heartbreak in her life - beginning at her parents meeting in The Manuscript, to current day. I think the songs may also actually have a sister song from the corresponding album/period in time, with similar sound, lyrics or theme that connects them. I believe that each song also has a double meaning and can be interpreted as messages to her fans about things that have happened to her over the years or that are about to happen, and she is trying to communicate her feelings of being trapped, which is honestly so heartbreaking. Many relate to her being caged and forced to hide her true self, in particular by one person closest to her - her father. It is devastating to listen to.

The really brilliant part I discovered next, is that The Anthology tracks also have another hidden storyline being told which intertwines and intersects in the exact right place to fit in with her life story. It includes all of the "THE" songs and is in reverse order from the parallel life story and vinyl variants order of issue (but chronological track list order).

The Tortured Poets Department

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

The Alchemy

The Black Dog

The Albatross

The Prophecy

The Bolter

The Manuscript

Rather than presenting my interpretation of the timeline and each story told in every song, I urge everyone to listen to both stories, in these exact orders, with an open mind as to what she could possibly be describing! My mind was completely blown when I figured this out!! Her mind is incredible, there is no other way to describe the album, other than a masterpiece! I feel so much for the pain she has gone through. This album explains her feelings and reasons for hiding her true self over the years for any fans that will inevitably be feeling upset and deceived. We all need to show compassion for everything Taylor has sacrificed and give her what she needs. She truly deserves love, honesty, happiness and peace. ✌️💜

I'm in the process of creating a document trying to piece all of the hidden connections together just to wrap my head around this amazing body of work, so may possibly link this when I have it completed, otherwise I will add it to this post for anyone that might be interested.

I have a couple of extra personal thoughts, theories and hopes for anyone still reading…

The manuscript of her life story may possibly be the manuscript for a future book/film.

I think one meaning of "Fortnight" is a foretelling message to the fans that havent been noticing any of her many hair pin drops - she has been trying to get the message across but they aren't listening. For the fans she loses when she comes out - she touched them with this album for only a fortnight, before she lost them. She loves the fans but staying in the closet is ruining her life. I think something big could be happening a fortnight after release? Friday 3rd May is International Sun Day. ☀️ Karlie Kloss was always 'sunshine' to Taylor. According to Karlie, their first meeting was at the 2011 Met Gala on May 2, however, there is a possibility that they could have met at the afterparty - after midnight, making the anniversary May 3! 2024 Met Gala is a few days later, could they both make an appearance? If nothing big occurs, perhaps some seeds of doubt will be planted on the 3rd? Or.. It could also be a surprise rep TV (with or without Karma and Debut - surprise triple drop?) with wlw vault tracks?! Who really knows.. I honestly have no idea, but whatever happens, I know Taylor has it all meticulously planned out and everything will happen when it is supposed to.

Taylor is chairman of the Tortured Poets department - the leader of the mass coming out we are about to see. As Chely Wright put - 'we need someone at the top' to come out and pave the way for others to do the same, and to stop the forced closeting in the celebrity world. I think Travis and the majority of her former beards are also queer and there will be many more 'tortured poets' that will join 'the department'.

Karma will be album 1 (TS12) in the 3,2,1 countdown, TS13 is 0 - the album in which she gets all of her full colour back, reclaims her glitter gel pens and finally can sing her truth proudly! She has destroyed her own name and reputation, burnt down the lover house and all her former selves.

Last of all, PLEASE BE KIND! If anyone has made it to the end of this and doesnt agree, I'd love for you to have a listen to the songs in the orders above before commenting. If not, lets just agree to disagree! We all have our own personal takes on Taylor's lyricism and I would never dream of being unkind to another just for having a difference of opinion. 🫶

For Taylor - if you somehow happen to see this - please know you are truly a mastermind, you are loved and we've got you!

🌈💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🌈

❤️ gerimegs

#taylor swift #gaylor #kaylor #ttpd #thetorturedmusesdept #the tortured poets department #the tortured poets dept #taylorswift #swifties #taylornation #tsttpd #taylor swift eras #erastour