#sometimes I need to reassure this for myself so I think others probably feel the same way so here you go ;v;

[organized-chaotic-disaster]

Being fat is sexy, actually. And this includes people with body types that don't fit societal beauty standards (i.e., big bellies, double chins, fat arms)

Fat people are hot and we need to stop pretending they aren't xo

#this isn't meant to be fetishizing btw and if it is please lmk and I can delete this!! #imo fetishizing would be taking away one's humanity. That isn't the point of this post this post is just saying fat people can be & are hot #fatposi #fat positivity #bodyposi #body positivity #sometimes I need to reassure this for myself so I think others probably feel the same way so here you go ;v; #me when I'm going through my clothes and something's too tight: oh :( I'm so fat (negative) (bad and also wrong that it's seen as negative) #also me when seeing pics and/or art of fat women: oh. oh my. is uh. is it getting hot in here or is it just me? I'm uh. wow. I'm gay 😳

[weird-is-life]

helloo! okay this might be a long request so buckle up. idea for spencer based off of my day; let it be know that i relate to spence, even if I have a "low" iq, what i mean is, I ramble. and watching people shut down spencer when he's about to rant always made me sad (obviously). but i realized it's because that happens to me. I'm a very geeky person so i get passionate and i understand why people would shut me down (still hurts tho). but today one of my friends asked a question it was about simpler animals and what the difference was. me loving animals and knowing the answer, well I spoke up but immediately got talked over about something not relevant. my real idea is, what if spencer had someone that rambled with him and appreciated his rants. like i think it'd be cute and they don't have to rant about the same thing, just both like in the corner talking absurdly fast together. and the team probably rolling their eyes. maybe??? (sorry if it was to personal) hope you have a great dayyy!!

Hiii lovely, ty for the request💕!! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, like one pet name (0.6k)

Sometimes Hotch kind of regrets hiring you (not really, you're a great  addition to the team and everybody loves you), but when he sees you and Spencer together, the thought crosses his mind.

What he really does regret, is putting your desk and Spencer's desk next to each other. Big, big, big mistake.

You and Spencer are hunched over something at your desk, talking very quickly, as you two often do. Hotch finds your conversations, against his better judgement, cute. But not when he's trying to start a meeting and you two can't seem to notice.

He and the team see this on a regular basis, it's nothing new, that you and Spencer talk and talk about something, anything, completely in your own world.

Your conversations are still the same just like the first time, you and Spencer met. Maybe they got even worse. You two can ramble on and on for hours like it's nothing.

And you love it. You love talking to Spencer. The topic of your conversation is never a problem, you can talk about anything and nothing at the same time.

Just the fact, that you can talk to each other without being talked over, interrupted or hushed down is everything to you and to him.

Spencer feels the same. He loves talking to you. Your sweet, sweet voice makes it even better. He loves even just listening to you talk, it's maybe his favourite thing in the world.

Especially, when you two talk about the most silly, random stuff, while lying in the bed late at night. Chuckling and rambling without a care in the world. Maybe he loves it so much, because the team doesn't know about it. It's like something sacred between just you and him.

That's definitely his happy place, just you two having a quiet conversations with sleepy voices.

"Spence, have you read this book before?" you ask, pointing at the book lying on your desk.

"Oh," Spencer's face lights up with recognition," I have. It's really good, right?"

"I don't know, I haven't started it yet. I want to, but I can't bring myself to read it after a day full of work," you say to Spencer.

"I-I could read it to you?" he hesitantly offers.

"Spence, it's almost 800 pages long...." you chuckle at his offer.

"I don't mind," he quickly responds.

You think about it, but not for too long. You don't really need convincing, not when it comes to Spencer.

"Well, okay then. But only if you really want to," you give him a smile.

"I want to," he reassures you," and i do have some suggestions...."

"Like what?"

"Like books, that are similar to this. If you like this one, I could lend them to you-" Spencer's fast rambling gets interrupted, but not by you, never by you.

"Yo, lovebirds, we'd be very happy to let you talk about whatever nonsense you're talking about, but we all want to have this meeting over with. So if you'd be so kind to join us, that'd be nice," Derek basically yells at you from the conference room's doorway, making everybody in the room look at you and Spencer.

Your cheeks go a bit pink at Derek's words, you haven't realised that they were waiting on you and Spencer.

"Relax Derek, we're coming," Spencer says back loudly, " come on sweetheart, let's go there before they get mad at us," Spencer tells you, rolling his eyes over Derek's words.

"We'll talk about the book more later, yeah?" Spencer promises.

"Later?"

"I could come over tonight?" Spencer unsurely proposes.

"That'd be great, I'd love that," you'd never pass an opportunity to spend time with Spencer and getting to listen to him talk.

Somebody would maybe find reading to each other boring, but you and Spencer would never. It's like your love language.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid

[buckybabesonly]

Dirty Little Confession

Summary: Part 2 to Dirty Little Secret, can be read as a stand-alone. You and Bucky start dating, and during your first time, he tells you exactly how he used to fantasize about you.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!IReader

Genre: Smut / PWP

Warnings: Use of pet names (princess), dirty talk, size kink (kinda), Bucky being nastehhh and telling you exactly what he wants to do to you, first time having sex with Bucky, unprotected sex

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: You guys asked for it 👀 Also sorry but just could not for the life of me find an appropriate saucy gif for this one so enjoy a generic long-haired Bucky gif cos he still be adorable. And I just hit 1,000 followers today! Thank you!

You giggled as your back hit the mattress, bouncing slightly as Bucky crawled over your body, relentlessly kissing your mouth, your neck.

Nervousness laced the sound of your laughter - your heart was beating rapidly, blood rushing to your face as you tried to catch your breath.

“You okay?” Bucky murmured against your skin, pulling back slightly to study your face. His body was so warm, comforting like a heavy blanket.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “Just - just nervous.”

He gave you a reassuring smile, pecking the tip of your nose.

“Don’t be. I’ll take care of you.”

His words made you shiver in anticipation, a small moan escaping your lips when he placed a knee between your thighs to separate your legs, his mouth reattaching itself to your neck and down to your collarbone.

He wanted to worship every inch of your skin, now that he finally had you in front of him.

“I used to think you didn’t even know I existed,” you said suddenly, your fingers threading through Bucky’s soft brunette tresses. It felt like a daze, having him on top of you, caressing you.

He chuckled, looking at you once more. “Believe me, I knew.”

“Mmm-hmm.” As you suspected, your crush on him hadn't exactly been subtle, and he probably noticed the way you ogled him all the time.

“I used to think about you all the time, too.” He nibbled your ear lobe gently, his voice deepening. “Used to get myself off every night imagining what I’d do to you.” His right hand slipped under your shirt, pulling down the cups of your bra and massaging your breast, making you gasp.

If you weren’t riled up before, you definitely were now. You groaned at his words as he slowly began to grind his clothed crotch against yours, all whilst continuing his ministrations on your breasts. You could feel how hard his cock was through his jeans, and you wanted nothing more than to rip off your clothes and have him inside you right now.

“Did you really?” you asked, wanting - no, needing him to tell you more.

“Yes,” he growled. “How could I not? Seeing you every day, looking at me with those eyes. Took me a long time to get the courage to ask you out, though.”

“You can say that again,” you joked, trying to maintain your focus as Bucky continued sucking and licking your neck in between his words.

“I was nervous,” he smirked. “Imagine that.”

“So what did you do?” you promoted, feeling your core burning with need. “What did you think about?”

Bucky smiled to himself, understanding exactly what effect his words were having on you and your body.

“Sometimes, I’d think about bending you over at your desk,” he began, sitting back on his haunches to peel off his shirt, his muscles flexing. Your hand lifted reflexively to touch his abdomen, marveling at the chiseled muscle. “I’d lift up your skirt, tear a hole in your pantyhose, take you right there and then.”

He lifted your torso up off his bed, holding you against him so he could hook his fingers under your shirt and lift it off, revealing yourself to him.

"Other times, I'd think about fucking you in the shower. I'd have you pressed up against the tiles, legs around my waist, and I'd have you bouncing up and down on my cock."

He loved the way you looked in your simple black bra, but liked you more without it, unhooking it deftly with a snap of his fingers.

"I'd think about having you on your knees, my cock in your mouth, you'd be gagging for me. I'd cum all over you pretty face."

The way he undressed you piece by piece, like unwrapping a gift, left you feeling a tad impatient. His dirty narrations was making you soak through your panties.

“Bucky,” you whined in minor complaint as he tossed your bra aside, pushing you back down so he could latch his mouth onto your left nipple. His tongue swirled around, licking and flicking it. He swapped to your right breast to give it the same treatment, capturing your nipple gently between his teeth and pulling.

“You moaned exactly like that in my fantasies,” he marveled, feeling his cock straining. But he wanted to make this last, savor his first time with you. “My dirty little princess.”

The lewd nickname made your folds even slicker, and you lifted your hips to buck against his, wanting him to give you something, anything.

His hands moved down to remove your jeans and panties at the same time, and you eagerly shimmied your hips to help him. Once your clothes were discarded to the side, he unclasped his belt, the sound making you salivate in anticipation. He slowly, slowly pulled his belt through the loops of his jeans, making a show of it, relishing how you eyed his crotch.

"Next time, I'll tie you up with this," he said casually, weaving the leather through his fingers, "but not tonight." He discarded the belt and shed the rest of his clothes, giving you the view you had been waiting for.

You were both silent as you looked at each others naked bodies for the first time. When you imagined this moment, you thought you would self-conscious and exposed, but the way his gaze roved over your body made you feel reassured. Loved. He looked at you almost in awe, his tongue pushing the inside of his cheek as if he was decided which part to devour first.

Your eyes became fixated on his huge appendage, slightly curving up towards his stomach, tracing the veins that ran along its length. The head of his cock was red and throbbing, aching to be put inside you. You were somewhat shocked - and intimidated - at its size, but you just knew how good it would feel sheathed inside your cunt.

A ravenous look appeared as his eyes drifted, first across your face, then to your breasts, then your cunt, presented to him in all its wet glory. God, finally.

“I’ve imagined this so many times,” he said lowly, his tongue wetting his lips. “So. Many. Times.”

You reached down between your legs, for his cock. He thought he would stop breathing when your soft hand wrapped around his girth, hesitantly at first, then with more confidence. Your grip tightened as you stroked him, thumb lightly sweeping over the top of his dick, admiring its thickness and weight.

“Fuck,” he hissed, head falling back. He couldn’t wait any longer, hand reaching out blindly to find the condom he had placed on his bedside table earlier.

“No,” you said suddenly, making his eyes snap open. “No condom.”

He froze, feeling his arousal grow all the more but needing to know that you were certain.

“Are you sure?” His voice was gentle. “I don’t mind using one, princess.”

“I want you inside me,” you said desperately. “Bare. I want to feel you. Please?" You added at the end, peeking up at him through your lashes shyly.

Now you had said that, there was no holding back.

A near animalistic sound released from the depths of Bucky’s chest as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Thought about this moment so many times,” he grunted. “Thought about how you would whine like a kitten whilst I fucked you with this cock. Think you can take all of it?”

The size of his dick made your pussy clench. Whilst he might not have been the longest that you had (although he was getting there), he was definitely the thickest, and you could only imagine how it would feel.

“I’m not sure,” you confessed, your nerves revealing yourself to him once more. His face softened as he brushed his thumb against your cheek, moving down to cup your chin.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go slow,” he said. “You ready?”

You nodded frantically. “Need you. You have no idea.”

He chuckled, the sound like honey. “Princess, I’ve not had sex since the 40’s,” you scoffed, but your face fell when you realised he was being serious, “you have no idea how much I’m holding back right now.”

“What?” you blurted out in shock, nerves rising again. “What if it’s not as good as you remember?” It was a dumb thing to say, but you didn't want to disappoint him. First time having sex in over 70 years was a long time.

“Trust me. This will be worth the wait.”

You felt the tip of his cock prod you, and you kept your eyes fixed on his beautiful blue ones when he breached your entrance, his mouth parting slightly. He was monitoring your expression for any sign of discomfort as he slowly entered you, stretching you open.

You could feel your walls struggling to accommodate him, and you forced yourself to breathe slowly and relax, delighted when your core gradually began to swallow him up.

“Ah - fuck,” you cursed, one hand reaching up to press lightly against his chest, startling him as you rarely swore. The stretch was delicious, the pleasure beyond anything you could have imagined. God, you had barely even started and he was making you so needy.

“You okay?” He stopped his movements, making you grab onto his shoulders with both hands instead.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you panted, nodding. “All the way. Put it all the way inside, now.”

He smirked, the corners of his mouth twitching as he thrust the rest of the way inside you, making you release a guttural sound of pleasure.

“You like that?” He asked. “Tell me how much you like it.”

“So - so big, Bucky,” you gasped breathlessly, “so huge.”

He propped himself above you, and you could see his arms slightly shaking as they braced themselves on either side of your head. He was holding back.

“You can move,” you reassured him. “Just fuck me.”

"Your wish is my command," he grunted, and he began to move.

The thrust and slide of his dick inside your pussy made you both moan simultaneously. The feeling was electric, and you swore you could feel every vein of his cock as it dragged along your walls, filling every available space, probing your depths.

He began moving at a steady pace, fucking you with vigor, his eyes watching how your breasts bounced with every movement, how you closed your eyes blissfully and kept your mouth open to release a steady aah - aah - aah - aah with every snap of his hips.

"It feels so good, please don't stop," you garbled almost incoherently.

He couldn't believe how tight and warm you were around his cock, massaging him, threatening to tease an early release from him. You felt so good, and he sat back on his heels once more, hands on your waist to pull you down onto his cock, slamming into you harder.

"Oh God, Bucky."

The way you said his name made him even harder, if that was possible.

"Fuck, princess," he managed to spit out as he fucked you harder, fingers digging into your supple flesh as he drove his cock into your aching cunt. "Imagined this so many times. Touched myself all the time thinking about how I was gonna ruin your pussy. Now I finally got you here, and you're so tight and hot around my cock. You're taking it all so well."

He lifted your legs suddenly and placed them on top of his shoulders, allowing him deeper access into you. You were practically bent in half as he leaned forward, drilling his dick into you. In this position, he was able to kiss you, and his tongue licked into your mouth, hungry and desperate. He didn't even want to give you time to breathe, desperate to taste you on his tongue.

You were trembling as he continued fucking you relentlessly, the pleasure building up in your center in waves, reaching the crescendo.

"More, Bucky, I need more," you begged, holding onto his biceps, nails dragging along his skin.

You squealed when he flipped your positions without warning, moving with the grace of a cat, rolling onto his back and pulling you so that you were on top. He raised you easily back up and onto his cock like you weighed nothing, and continued to lift you up-down, up-down on his cock.

"That enough for you?" he asked, a seductive arrogance soaking his voice.

You were not composed enough to respond as you tried to hold onto his forearms for balance all the why he continued to move you on top of his dick like a doll, his face contorting in pleasure.

"Feels - so good," he exclaimed, his voice gravelly like he was struggling to voice exactly just how good it felt. "I'm gonna cum."

You could feel yourself reaching the peak already, sweat glistening against your skin as you panted and moaned, your hands lifting to your own breasts to squeeze and play with them.

The sight of you, moving like a jackrabbit on his cock, hands cupping your own tits, was a sight that sent him over the edge. He quickly lifted you off his cock, his hand grabbing his slick length and stroking him through his orgasm as he shot his seed all over your belly, high enough to almost paint your face, his groans loud and clear as he sent his creamy cum all over your torso.

You mourned the loss of his dick inside you, wishing secretly that he had cum inside, but didn't have time to voice your complaint when he laid you on your back once more.

"What are you doing?" you asked breathlessly as his chest heaved, his cock still semi-hard.

"Admiring the artwork," he murmured, giving you that god damn smirk again before his face disappeared between your legs.

You held onto his hair, nails scratching his scalp as his tongue delved past your folds, licking your combined juices, flicking your clit playfully as you struggling to hold back your screams.

"You taste good, princess," he complimented briefly before continuing to eat you out, the muscle in his mouth working on you expertly, dragging your orgasm out.

"I'm nearly there," you whined, and he kept up a consistent pace, doing his utmost to pleasure you as you felt your high approaching. "Oh, don't stop Buck, keep going, keep going - OH!"

Your orgasm reached the top and spilled over, making you convulse with pleasure as Bucky grabbed your thighs to keep your legs apart, his tongue lapping at every part of your pussy he could access, making you writhe uncontrollably.

The aftershocks it ran through your whole body, literal tears springing to your eyes at the pure ecstasy of it. The feeling was blinding white, addictive.

"That feel good, princess?"

He took your gasping as a definite yes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he covered your body with his once more, kissing your swollen lips yet again.

"That was amazing," you said eventually, your breathing loud and blood gushing in your ears as you tried to focus your vision. The orgasm had been unlike anything you had ever felt before, like you had lost total control of yourself, but it was exhilarating.

"You were amazing," he said, sucking your skin delicately, his hands roving as if he just couldn't get enough of you.

You giggled when he pulled the covers over the two of you, wrapping you up in his arms, continuing his whispers of what else he was going to do to you.

"Hey, I was just looking at this report and - holy shit, is that a hickey?"

"Nat!"

#bucky fic #bucky smut #bucky pwp #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x you smut #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes pwp #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky fanfics #bucky fanfic #bucky oneshot

[bananastarion]

Rambling headcanons about how Astarion's trauma could manifest in your relationship.

Disclaimer: I am not fetishizing trauma or PTSD here. I have C-PTSD myself, and have dated others with it as well. So some of this is (loosely) inspired by my own experiences. It's not pretty, it's not fun, but I'd say it's pretty realistic. So yeah, fair warning! Anyway, let's gooooo

Astarion isn't fazed by much, but he IS claustrophobic- having to claw your way out of your own coffin, being trapped in a mindflayer pod and being trapped in a tomb for a year straight would do that to anyone. If he is ever unfortunate enough to be stuck in a small space again, he'll go into a blind panic. He'll hyperventilate and try to force his way out any way he can, and if he can't get out in time he'll just completely mentally shut down for a bit. If you plan to pull him into a little broom closet for a sneaky fuck, just forget it ok? You will probably get your eyes accidentally clawed out.

There is a long period in your relationship where Astarion is gradually getting more comfortable with being vulnerable around you, but he's also very self-conscious about it. He doesn't want you to pity him or think he's weak. You will be tempted to give him lots of validation and praise to make up for all of the psychological abuse he endured, to reassure him that he's finally safe and free, and that you love him for more than just his body. That his problems won't ever drive you away, and that you don't judge him. He appreciates your words deeply, he wants and needs them more than he cares to admit. But at the same time, they completely overwhelm him. Finally being in a good place with a caring partner is such a stark contrast to what he's been through, that it forces him to see even deeper into the void inside him and recognize just how badly he was treated, how deprived he's been. They hit him hard in both good and bad ways, and sometimes he'll tell you to stop because he just can't handle feeling so much right now. It's best to stick to mostly surface level stuff and ease carefully into the deeper, more meaningful observations.

The sweeter your words, the more his mind races with fears that you are idealizing him and eventually you'll come to see him for what he really is- and then abandon him. Fears that he'll come to depend on your kindness only for it to be ripped away, whether by you or by circumstances beyond his control. Fears that you don't really mean it, that you're just manipulating him the way he did to others. Deep down he hopes and trusts you're sincere, but it's just so hard to accept when Cazador's voice is in his head, countering all of it. This is all so new to him, so unknown. And the unknown is terrifying. He gets frustrated that your kindness does this to him, he wants to be able to embrace your words, he's so impatient to heal and finally be over this shit already. He judges himself so harshly for still struggling with all this. Cazador's dead, he is free, he has someone who truly loves him- why isn't that enough?! Why can't he fully appreciate it, is he just going to feel broken forever? He worries he'll take too long to get over his past, and you'll get tired of it and leave. Expect to give him lots of reassurance about all of this.

He doesn't like to cry around you, but over time you will lower his guard enough that he'll stop fighting back the tears quite so much. Sometimes it's a bad dream, sometimes you say something that just hits him hard (even if it's in a good way), and sometimes he has no idea what triggered it. You tell him he can wake you up any time if he needs you, but often he chooses not to wake you and just suffers through it alone. When it happens while you're both awake, at first he would roll over and face away from you when the tears started flowing if he couldn't collect himself, and you'd just hug him from behind. But eventually he feels comfortable enough to bury his face in your chest and just let it all out. When it's really bad, he'll be trembling and hugging you so tightly as he sobs into your shirt that it's almost hard for you to breathe. The best thing you can do is just be there with him, stroke his hair, caress the tears off his cheeks. It can be dicey, but eventually you learn to read him well enough that sometimes stroking the scars on his back very gently can be healing for him. There are other times though, when this will be too much for him. Same goes for kissing. Also, don't even think about telling anyone you've seen him like this. But of course, why would you?

Don't go into therapist mode with him when he's that vulnerable, and if he decides to talk, just let him talk. Hold space for him and be there with him. Afterwards, help ground him in the present and reconnect him to his senses by pointing out things in the room, remind him that it's not all happening to him right now. Realize how special it is that he feels safe enough with you to be so vulnerable. There are times when he even breaks down during sex, and he'll say that he's fine and you can keep going, but it's for the best to stop what you're doing and check in instead. He often dissociates when he's triggered, and doesn't realize something is wrong until it's too late.

Trauma isn't always pretty, and there are times when it does strain your relationship. When he's really triggered, he might take it out on you. He'll try his best to push you away, and say terrible things he doesn't mean. Perhaps things Cazador said to him. His articulate manner of speech can be sharper than his blade when wielded against you in the heat of the moment. He doesn't believe you can love this side of him, that he is fundamentally broken and unlovable, so it's a test of sorts to prove his own fears. He doesn't necessarily realize what he's doing, he's just lashing out from a point of pure fear. Trauma is an explanation for this behavior, but not an excuse, so it's important you set very firm and consistent boundaries when he gets like this. He might not appreciate it in the moment, but he will once he calms down.

It takes some time for him to feel truly secure with you, but he's getting there. In the meantime, he's starting to get a little clingy and codependent. He's not used to having so much freedom, and doesn't always know what to do with himself when you're not around. Being in your presence is when he's closest to feeling safe and at ease, and being apart for too long can cause his mind to race, especially when he has nothing to distract himself with. It drives him crazy that it gets to him so much- he's never been dependent on anyone before, and this side of him surprises himself. He hates it, which only stresses him out more. He tries to play it off, but it's very obvious he is struggling with separation anxiety. You don't want to overindulge him, but to ease his fears you decide to get a pair of magical rings. You can make each other's rings glow whenever you want- so if Astarion is feeling lonely, he can make your ring glow and you can make his glow back. Sometimes, just that is enough to get him through a rough day without you. Once he has done some more healing, eventually he will come to enjoy his alone time in a way he's never gotten to before in his life, and as much as you enjoy spending time with him, you'll be so happy for him to finally have that.

#astarion #headcanons #baldur's gate 3 #astarion/tav

[w1ldthoughts]

Crooked Smile

Anon requested angst

Warnings: Mention of body image issues

The veneer craze. The ozempic epidemic. This intense and overwhelming need to have a perfect smile and be super skinny, while also having an hourglass figure and a perfectly perky yet fat ass. Thanks to the BBL. You had absolutely no problem with people getting cosmetic surgeries, your body your choice, and you weren’t going to judge anyone for wanting to make themselves feel good. But it did contribute to very unhealthy beauty standards that were becoming more impossible to follow. It really didn’t help that your boyfriend was a celebrity and every function that you went to was full of women who made you feel a little (a lot) like you didn’t belong.

After the last time at Jack’s you couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked. Every time you walked past a mirror you stopped to look at yourself for a minute. Maybe you could lose a few pounds and have less midnight snacks. Maybe some Invisalign wouldn’t hurt, you knew it would but with the way you were feeling about yourself right now, you’d take the tooth pain over this crippling bout of insecurity and self doubt. You probably hadn’t analyzed yourself this much since you were in high school. This feeling wouldn’t last forever, you knew that, but sometimes you just gotta throw yourself a pity party and recharge your batteries. You were supposed to have a date night with Jack but you lied and told him you were sick and that you’d see him another time.

You knew immediately who was knocking on your door and interrupting your This Is Us rewatch, using it to distract from your own turmoil. Like fighting fire with…more fire. Using your sleeve to wipe your eyes, you sniffled and paused the devastating show to let Jack in.

“Baby, what’s wrong? I knew I should’ve come over earlier.” He immediately placed a hand on your forehead, looking you over for any other signs of distress. “You don’t feel warm. Does your stomach hurt?”

“No Jack, I’m fine.” You took his hand off of you and wrapped your arms around yourself. “Just not really feeling like myself and going out tonight just didn’t seem like the best idea.”

Jack nods, understanding the feeling. Sometimes he didn’t feel like going out either and he wasn’t about to force you to do anything, especially not with the way your shoulders were slumped and the fact that the usual light in your eyes wasn’t there. “Well, would it be okay if I sit and watch your show with you? Haven’t seen much of you lately and to be real, I miss you a little.”

The last part made you crack a smile, a genuine one. “Fine. But don’t ask me a million questions or I’m just gonna turn it off.”

“No promises.” He laughs, plopping himself down in the middle of the couch. You originally parked your body next to him but when his hands wrapped themselves around your stomach, it made you feel weird and overly exposed. Excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, you tried to mentally snap out of it, slightly embarrassed that Jack’s friends’ comments were affecting you the way they were. You walked back to the couch, settling down on one end of it, creating some space between you and your boyfriend.

“What the hell? Why are you so far away?”

“I just want my own space for a little bit, we don’t need to be up under each other every second of the day.” You didn’t even trust your own words, opting to keep it in a hushed tone.

And he called your bluff immediately, grabbing the remote to pause the show. “Look I didn’t come here to press you or anything I just—is there something going on with us? I mean you’ve barely answered my texts, you canceled our plans today and now you can’t even stand to be near me. What’s going on?”

Now you felt guilty, on top of everything else. “It’s not you Jack,” you sigh, scooting over to grab his hand in reassurance. “I really didn’t wanna do this because I don’t want this to become a thing but—something happened at your party the other night.” You feel him tense up, a slight crack in his jaw from how hard he had just gritted his teeth. “I was walking back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and I heard Cope and Nemo talking about me. They were basically talking about how you could do so much better and how my looks aren’t up to par and it was just really shitty. And I know they’ve been at your place all week hanging out so I really just haven’t been in the headspace to be around them.”

He narrows his eyes at you and pulls his hand away. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“Because I didn’t want to cause a scene at your party, it wasn’t the time.”

“So you thought that ignoring me and isolating yourself, going on this emotional downward spiral would just what? Make it all better?”

You were taken aback by his reaction but you genuinely didn't have the energy to do this today. “Jack, my reaction or the way that I’m handling it isn’t the point. The point is that your friends were being assholes and you’re more concerned with me than with what they said about me. Why is that?”

“Because you know how they are! They get a little drunk or a little high, sometimes both and they just start spewing random shit. You can’t take them serious. And maybe you got things out of context. Did you hear the entire conversation?”

He had to be joking…right?

Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself before losing your mind. All you wanted today was a nice, relaxing time to find your inner peace but instead here you were. “Let me be clear, I don’t care if I walked in at the very last second of their stupid little conversation. I heard some hurtful things and I heard my name attached to them. That should be enough.”

Jack lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head,“you’re just being sensitive right now, maybe your period is coming or something cause this really isn’t that deep. Like I said before, you know how they get, I’m sure it was just jokes.”

“Yeah everything may be a fucking joke to you, including my feelings.” You moved away from him, “but I don’t find any of this funny. Which is why I told you I needed some space. And you won’t even respect that.” Your voice cracks, feeling the tears stinging your eyes even though you thought you’d done enough crying today. “You think don’t I see the comments? Or hear the shit people say about me? That I’m not pretty enough or smart enough or that you could easily do so much better. I get that from complete strangers all the time. But to hear your friends say it? Your people? That hurts Jack.”

“I just really don’t think this is that big of a deal.” He tries to reason and diffuse the situation. “They probably don’t even mean any of that shit, you can’t take it to heart.”

The walls that you had built from your failed relationships in the past had been torn down by Jack, brick by brick. You felt safe with him, cared about and cared for. And in this moment, he was public enemy number one.“Do you think I’m the fucking ‘boy who cried wolf?’ I’ve NEVER said anything to you about this before and it isn’t the first time it’s happened but I didn’t want to make it a big deal. And here you are defending them, you’re supposed to be on my side?” You didn’t even notice you were yelling.

“Oh my god I am on your side!” He raises his voice, “I just think this is all one big misunderstanding and you shouldn’t get so worked up about it.”

“Oh my god you—you know what I’m not even gonna do this anymore. You win.” You stand up from your seat, not breaking eye contact with him. “Respectfully, I think you should get the fuck out. I really need to take care of myself right now and you’re not making it any better so you should probably just go.”

He remains stationary on your couch, still staring at you.

“Jack, are you losing your hearing or something? I said you need to leave. Now please.”

He stands up, walking towards you to try to pull you into his arms, “babe—”

You back away. “No. Don’t do that. Don’t try to cutesy pet name your way out of this. I told you that something happened and it hurt me and you refuse to listen so you can go. I’m done talking about it.”

The man finally takes your words seriously, grabbing his stuff and walking to the door. He closes it without another word, leaving you to think about how the hell you even got there. There isn’t even enough sadness in your body anymore to cry, you’re shaking with rage at the fact that your boyfriend chose to defend his boys over caring about your feelings. It was simple, he didn’t care about you and they definitely didn’t, so what was the point? It was time to move on.

Two days later, he was being completely ignored by you. He’d spent some time licking his wounds and was really starting to regret the way he reacted. His first instinct had always been to defend his people, his boys especially. They had been with him since he was working at Chick-fil-A and didn’t have anything remotely valuable to his name and they had never switched up on him, so why should he? And maybe that had been a part of the problem. He never told them “no” or that he didn’t like something because…that just wasn’t the relationship. They were grown men and Jack wasn’t about to tell another grown man how to act. But in this case, he probably should have listened to you and at least talked to Cope and Nemo about what they said, secretly hoping that it wasn’t as bad as you made it seem.

“Bro, I gotta talk to y’all about something. And I’m being forreal.”

Nemo sat next to him on the couch and Cope was across from him. “What’s up? You look like somebody kidnapped your dog.” Cope jokes and Nemo laughs a little, but Jack just clears his throat.

“Okay so…I need to ask y’all about the party last weekend. Y/n heard you talking about her and she was super pissed and we got into this big ass argument about it. So…what exactly was said?”

“Oh shit,” Nemo looks down at the ground. “Look bro we didn’t mean for her to hear all that—”

“But it was all facts.” Cope finishes for him. “All we said was that she’s kind of a bum and you can and should do a lot better than her. I mean the girls that we bring around and that’s who you picked? I don’t wanna judge but—”

Jack holds a hand up to stop him from continuing. “Imma be real, I don’t really give a fuck what y’all think. That’s my girl bro, like my fucking girlfriend who heard you talking shit about her and it made her feel bad. And I defended you because I thought that my best friends would be supportive and I don’t know…not shitty to someone I love? Guess that’s my bad for assuming.”

“I’m sorry, it definitely wasn’t our place to comment on your relationship. You know when that liq starts to hit—”

“Guess you didn’t fucking hear me. I said I defended your dumbasses. I basically chose y’all over her and now you’re sitting here like this shit is sweet?”

Cope tries to open his mouth but Jack cuts him off again, “Not even gonna lie I need you both outta my sight for the next couple days. I can’t believe this. And Cope, you really shouldn’t be commenting about anybody’s appearance when you permanently look like the Avatar. Think about when you’re 50 and how that’s gonna look.”

He knew he was lashing out but he couldn’t believe how wrong he was and how hard he had belittled your feelings. You two always talked about the unreal expectations for people, especially women and now he had contributed to the problem in the largest way. There was no concrete plan to remedy the situation but he damn sure had to try.

When you didn’t answer after the first four times he knocked, he thought about breaking the door down but that was a TMZ story waiting to happen. He just kept knocking and knocking until you opened the door.

“Can I help you?”

He didn’t realize how nervous he was until you were standing in front of him. “I’m so sorry. I know that won’t, that it’s not enough—I fucked up. I should’ve listened to you and I didn’t. Instead I got super defensive and didn’t want to acknowledge that my friends were being shitty and—”

“I forgive you.” You interrupt, facial expression remaining stead. “I’m over it.”

“You—you’re…over it?”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I had some really hard mental health days and it sucked but I realized that I like who I am. I love who I am, actually. Crooked smile, stretch marks, love handles…whatever. It’s me and I don’t want that to change, for anyone.”

Jack smiles, letting out a sigh of relief. “Good because I was about to give you this big speech about how you’re perfect to me and for me and not to let anyone make you think any different. But it looks like you came to that conclusion on your own.”

You nod, a smirk forming on your lips. “Did you need anything else?”

“N—no. I uh…I wanted to just see if we were okay? Things got pretty heated the other night and I feel horrible for not taking your side. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You can’t contain the burst of laughter that comes out. “Sorry this isn’t funny, it's just…Jack I needed you. I needed you to believe me, to trust me, to defend me, to comfort me. Shit something—anything. But you tried to gaslight me into thinking I was dramatic when I know what I heard. And then you defended your idiot ass friends tooth and nail to the point where we were screaming at each other. I got myself out of this, I remembered who the fuck I am on my own. I remembered how beautiful and smart and worthy I am. On my own. So what the hell do I need you for? Let me answer that for you, I don’t. I don’t need you. I don’t need this. The belittling, the shit talking, the toxicity. I don’t need any of it..”

Looking him up and down, seeing the tears swimming in his eyes, a very different scene from days ago, and you shake your head. “You and I? Baby, we’re done. Have fun with the boys, you all deserve each other.”

#jack Harlow #jack Harlow imagine #jack Harlow x reader #jack Harlow fanfic #jack Harlow angst

[mlove44lh]

Don't hurt yourself

Chapter 8 - Redemption

Masterlist

Previously chapter

Warnings: angst, swearing, mention of loss

Words: 9,247

there are probably some mistakes in the translation. I'm a bit rusty. Soryy

“I had my ups and downs, but I always find the inner strength to pull myself up. I was served lemons, but I made lemonade. My grandma said "Nothing real can be threatened." True love brought salvation back into me. With every tear came redemption and my torturers became my remedy. So we're gonna heal. Me and you.”

Day 0

“I've dreamt about this for so long that I cannot even recall when this idea first took root within me.

I've memorized and held in my mind every tiny detail of this day. I've spent hours envisioning how it would unfold, researching without even having someone in mind to share this dream with.

And yet, even with all the planning and rehearsing every step in my mind for this perfect day, I never anticipated it would be as perfect as this.

The sky is clear and without clouds. And even though the wind is present, it's almost imperceptible on my skin, even with my arms uncovered.

Just for this weather in the middle of November, I could already consider this day a miracle, as evidence of a love that will be eternal and is already perfect.

The veil gently sways around me. I catch a glimpse of my guests through the sheer fabric that surrounds me. I know I have all my family and friends present, and I'm overjoyed that everyone is finally gathered. But I couldn't look at anyone else now except my future husband, who awaits me at the altar with a smile that assures me everything will be okay in our new life together.

And I believe him with a confidence I didn't know existed within me.

His dark eyes shine like never before, a privilege I've never witnessed. I know I grip my father's arm with a certain strength, but I need to feel the tension in my fingertips at least to prove to myself that I am still alive, and this is not a dream.

What reassures me is knowing that, even though I am a dreamer, I could never fantasize about such perfection.

It's as if my entire life has led up to this moment.”

Day 2,520

I waited for something. Something big, like in the movies. Something that would make me change, that would make everything fall into place perfectly so we could leave it all behind.

Even after all that, I waited. After the disrespect, after hearing from the mouth of the most despicable person I've ever known all the horrible things he was capable of doing, after being called scandalous for a behavior I know was unforgivable. Even after all of that, I waited for something.

But that something never came.

Real life is cruel, and these kinds of things don't happen. Sometimes what seems real is indeed real; sometimes the one pulling the trigger is the same person who vowed to protect you. And this kind of betrayal is the worst of all.

I was forced to stop believing in my personal fairy tale when the prince charming drove a knife into my chest.

I was yanked out of my perfect life, and the jolt was so strong that I don't know how I survived.

I look at my ring finger and even though the wedding ring is no longer here, the mark will probably last for a long time, as a visual reminder of all this.

The room is cold, and I feel his gaze on me, which makes the feeling of suffocation even bigger. My gaze remains low; this is the last place I want to be.

The door opens and the silence is cut by the mediator who introduces himself and then sits down between the four of us.

My heart races as I realize what is about to happen.

"We can begin the hearing."

Day 365

"I didn't think it could get any better after we got married, but I've never been so happy to be wrong.

The year has flown by, and all our time together has been precious. Even though Lewis isn't always present, when we're together, it feels like all the challenges of jet-lags and sleepless nights become insignificant.

One of his hands blocks my vision while the other guides me gently by the waist. I feel Lewis laughing behind me, while I become more restless than ever.

The hustle and bustle of London is miles behind us. Lewis drove, which is unusual since I'm usually the one behind the wheel.

I have no idea what I'll find here, so I eagerly await the revelation I've been waiting for hours.

"You know I hate surprises."

"I know. But you're going to like this one." He stops walking but keeps his hand over my eyes.

"It's our first wedding anniversary. It had to be something big."

"Something big?! Lewis, I got you a watch."

"And I loved my new Rolex. And this gift isn't exactly just for you; it's for both of us.”

Lewis removes his hand from my eyes; it takes me a few seconds to adjust to the brightness. The sunlight illuminates a large field surrounded by greenery. The weather is chilly, but the sunlight makes everything seem warm and cozy.

In the midst of two tall trees stands a house with a white-painted facade. Windows adorn the front of the house, along with some flowers planted around the residence.

It's a beautiful, delicate home, large enough for a family to live in, yet not so grand as to be intimidating. It's the perfect refuge for a lifetime, surrounded by the people you love.

I spend a few seconds observing the facade. Lewis steps away from my side and comes in front of me. His smile is huge, and I can tell by his expression that he's waiting for me to say something. But I wouldn't know what to say when I don't even know what I'm looking at now.

"What do you think?" His expectation implicit in his words.

"Lewis...” It can't be this, he can't have just bought a new house for us. “What is this?"

"Wait. I want you to see inside."

His hand fits into mine, and Lewis practically drags me inside. My excitement is so overwhelming that I can hardly think straight now. This is so much more than I expected.

The living room is spacious, and the wooden beams make everything cozier. The furniture is already arranged, and it's as if they've taken every detail from one of my dreams.

"There's a pool outside." He opens the large glass door, revealing more outdoor space. “We can put a big table here for when we have guests.”

His words come out quickly, like an excited child with something new, his eyes shining like two stars as Lewis divides his gaze from me to the entire house. He doesn't take long to return with his hand in mine, leading me to the second floor of the residence.

The master bedroom adopts a lighter tone than the rest of the house, covered in wood. The white paint on the walls makes the room even more spacious. Everything looks clean and new.

"You really did this?" My voice comes out almost in a whisper, and I then feel the urge to cry that hits me. “Lewis, it's perfect.”

"It's ours," he says. His voice is lower compared to minutes ago; the excitement seems to have eased. "I planned over the last year."

"This is... I'm speechless. It's perfect. But how would we do this? I mean, with our work and everything else."

It would be madness to move to the countryside from London at a time like this, even though it feels like a dream.

"I may have anticipated things a little. But we can come in a few years. This could be the house where we'll grow old together and raise our kids. It's the perfect place. We just have to wait a bit, and in the meantime, we can come whenever we want some time alone. 45 minutes from London and no neighbors for a few blocks sounds good, right?"

I can only smile. The idea of having a family by your side and growing old together is still something that can truly move me.

"Yes. It sounds perfect."

He smiles.

"Come on, I want to show you one last thing."

I can barely take in the details of the room before being pulled again.

Lewis opens the door to the room next to ours; unlike the others, this room has no furniture. A large window is situated in the middle of one of the walls, illuminating every corner of the room. I stand still at the door while Lewis finally calms down behind me.

"There are two more rooms like this, still empty." I feel the excitement within me as soon as I realize where Lewis is going. "We'll set them up together, at the right time. For our children. Let's fill this house with happiness, Y/n."

I turn to him, and I feel some tears escaping from my eyes. I couldn't be happier about this surprise.

I press our lips into a kiss that takes a while to break, just so I can speak before returning to him.

"This is all I want.”

"There are no children in common between the couple, and the divorce seems to be agreed upon by both parts. If there is no impasse with the last proposed agreement, I believe there is no need to extend this hearing."

‘Divorce. Agreement. Both parts.’ It looks as bad as it sounds. How could there be agreement on something as painful and profound as this? That's not what happens, I'm not here because I want to, I'm here because I need to be here, I'm here because I owe it to myself and the part that died inside me. I owe this as justice to the girl who believed so much in fairy tales. So no, there is no agreement whatsoever with this situation.

I glance at my lawyer and gesture to speak with him, but it doesn't become necessary. His throat clearing draws the attention of the few people in the room.

The proposed divorce agreement in the document I left with Lewis that morning was denied, as were the other two made by my lawyer. It seems there was some kind of impasse between what Lewis desired and what his representatives sought.

So, I waited for the counterproposal, and when it came, I tried to come to terms with it. There was much more for me than I asked for in the previous agreements, and much less than what I could receive if I had the slightest interest in a legal battle. The perfect agreement between a remorseful man who thinks money buys karma and the lawyers protecting his empire.

But overall, it wasn't that bad, except for one detail.

"There is a disagreement from my client regarding the agreement proposed by Mr. Hamilton."

They look at us with curiosity. Lewis raises his gaze full of doubt, which meets mine.

"And what would that be?" The mediator settles into his chair, leaning towards us.

I could vomit if I had ingested anything. I wish I could just accept anything proposed and leave right away. But I don't want to leave with anything other than what already belongs to me, and I certainly have no interest in something that would keep me tied to Lewis in any way.

I know this is another thing I shouldn't do. Especially if the hypothesis in my mind proves to be true. But I don't care anymore; I have every right to use the shell of a bad person at least once.

I have the right to escape from him.

"My client is no longer interested in the shares related to Mr. Hamilton's companies. As well as the residence in London. We would like to present a counterproposal, where the shares would be transferred back, and the house would be entirely in his name, if there is agreement, of course."

I watch my lawyer pass new papers to the mediator, who carefully examines each one.

I want to disappear from his life in every way possible; I won't heal if I don't distance myself from him. Continuing with the shares in my name would put me in moments like this. Trapped at a meeting table with him by my side. And the house would only remind me of everything that never was. I don't even want to drive past it, even though it's a new residence; it's infested with ghosts for me.

"What?!" Lewis diverts everyone's attention, even from the mediator, who is still examining the papers in front of him. "What are you talking about? These shares are rightfully yours, Y/n. We earned this together." Hearing his voice in person after so many weeks makes me want to cry.

"Mr. Hamilton, please. Only your lawyer has the right to speak at this moment, okay?" The mediator's voice becomes slightly louder to draw Lewis's attention.

There's a lot of disbelief in his gaze, while mine overflows with sorrow.

If only it were just businesses and numbers, the only things we conquered together, all of this would be infinitely easier.

"Don't do this. The shares are yours too, you know that."

Lewis completely ignores the mediator and continues speaking directly to me. His gaze reveals pleading, as if he's seeking redemption and the only way to achieve it is to ensure I end up with millions in shares.

It's tempting. But we're talking about a woman with a wounded ego and immense pride. So, thanks, but no.

"Mr. Hamilton, please."

The mediator seems a bit nervous. Meanwhile, his lawyer becomes restless and leans in to speak with Lewis.

"If she's giving up willingly, you should consider it. We're not talking about something small, Lewis." His lawyer's voice is low, but within this tiny room and with everyone else silent, it would be impossible not to hear his words.

Lewis still looks at me, and I still look at him. I haven't opened my mouth to respond to him, and I don't intend to. All I want is to leave this place soon with what I want, or rather, what I don't want.

"I don't care about that." Lewis responds to his lawyer, but still looking at me. I could even say there's a hint of anger in his expression, if only I still knew this person in front of me.

Day 1,397

“Waking up to the smell of coffee at home is one of my favorite things because I know when it happens, he's home. And it couldn't be any different; he promised me he would be.

My arms wrap around him as soon as I find him in the kitchen. His bare torso is warm and makes me feel at home like nothing else ever came close to achieving.

His hands hand me a cup of coffee, and our lips come together in a kiss full of the longing that seems never to go away, no matter how close we are.

"How is it possible for someone who hates coffee to make the best coffee I've ever had in my life?!"

Lewis laughs before placing his hands on my waist.

"You say that because you're in love with me and like everything I do. Literally, everyone who's had my coffee didn't like it."

"That's because they don't know how to appreciate the strongest coffee that has ever entered their system." Laughter echoes through the apartment. "But seriously, honey, as much as I love it, you have to go easy on the amount of grounds. I could stay awake for days if I had more than one cup in the morning."

His hands tighten around my waist enough to make me sigh. I place my mug with the hot liquid on the counter and soon bring my hands back to his bare back.

I see the smile fading from his face, replaced by a serious expression.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking."

"Want to share that?"

"I'm not sure you'll like the idea very much." A shy smile returns to his lips and my curiosity rises. "I know that wasn't the plan. But I can't stop thinking about it."

His eyes are no longer in contact with mine.

"Come on. Tell me."

"Well." He seems anxious, perhaps genuinely concerned about my reaction. "I think, maybe. If you want. We could start trying to expand the family."

My smile drops.

Not because I don't want this, but because I want it so bad that just the idea of Lewis also wanting it even before what was planned between us makes my stomach churn with happiness. I don't know if it's because of Lewis's strong coffee or my excitement, but suddenly I become aware of my accelerated heartbeat.

"I mean. If you still want to wait, we can. I know you have your work, and..."

"No!" I interrupt his train of thought. "I just wasn't expecting that right now." I have to think about the words before I can say them. "Lewis. Are you serious?"

I pull his face back to mine and force him to look at me. We are so close to each other that Lewis must be able to feel my own heartbeat against his chest.

"I've been thinking about this for a while. I know we agreed to wait until after Formula 1, to move to London and start our family. But I don't think I'm going to retire anytime soon, and I want a family with you now. And I know it will be crazy to have a child in the middle of all the travels and chaos of our life, but..." His smile grows even wider. "It will be our child, right?! If there's someone who could handle all of this, it's him. Or her."

My excitement is so overwhelming that I can hardly think of anything to say.

I know my eyes overflow with happiness and emotion, and I see Lewis's eyes mirroring the same.

I pull him closer to me, pressing against him with no desire to let him go anywhere.

"You know how much I want this." I pull him into a kiss that ends up being a bit messy due to our excitement.

"Is that a yes?" Lewis separates us for a moment to speak.

"Of course!"

"We'll take a break so that Mr. Hamilton's lawyer can review the counterproposal and to calm things down a bit.”

I watch both of them stand up. Lewis leaves the room almost running, while his lawyer follows him with the new papers in hand. I feel numb, I need to tap my feet on the floor a few times to make sure I won't fall when I stand up.

“Y/n. Are you sure about the counterproposal?” Adam, my lawyer, turns his chair towards me. His voice is low even though there's no need for it. Since there's no one else in the room. “I know you have your reasons, but we're talking about over fifty million. That could become much more over the years. Giving it away like this to him could be a mistake. You could at least sell them.”

"No. I don't want anything more from him, Adam." His expression reveals what he doesn't say, which makes me feel the need to justify myself. "I'm not saying this just because I'm hurt, I'm saying this because I really want out of this, I don't want to deal with anything related to Lewis anymore. And I know it may sound crazy, but every penny coming from those shares would only make me feel even worse. So yes, I am positive about my decision."

"Alright. I understand." His compassionate look kills me. I turn away from his expression to avoid dealing with that pity stamped on his face. "I think they'll agree, there wouldn't be a reason to delay this any further."

"I hope so." I don't wait for a response, leaving Adam in his place and stepping out of the room in search of fresh air.

Day 1,716

"I promised I wouldn't disappoint myself this time. I thought it would be easier not to see what I wanted for the seventh consecutive time. But no. Every month, it just hurts more.

I stare at the small plastic object in my hand as I feel a lump in my throat.

A damn red line.

One. Just one.

I feel Lewis's arm around me and his face resting on my shoulder.

We started trying a few months ago. We knew that if we waited for the perfect moment, it would never come. We travel all the time, and Formula 1 takes up a good part of Lewis's life. Besides, it's a dangerous sport.

But the desire for our children proved to be so big that any potential problem seems microscopic in comparison. We have a serious relationship and stability, as well as plenty of willingness and love, what could be missing?!

So, I stopped taking the pills and waited for it to happen. But it didn't. Not in the first month, not in the second, it started to bother me in the third. But I didn't imagine it would reach the seventh unsuccessful attempt.

I try to contain myself and pretend to myself that everything is fine. We're young, we have plenty of time to make this happen. But the frustration is written all over my face.

"We can keep trying,” his voice comes out muffled because his face is resting on me. “It's the best part anyway,” he jokes.

A soft laugh escapes my lips.

“Yeah. Maybe next time, huh?”

I take the test out of my field of vision and look at Lewis. He adjusts his posture and nods while looking at me attentively.

Maybe he's waiting for some kind of outpouring, or even restrained tears. But there isn't any. Not because I'm not feeling sad, but because it wouldn't make sense right now. Especially when he's just minutes away from leaving home for another one of his countless work weekends. A tearful wife wouldn't be the best thing to leave on his mind before all the concentration needed for a Grand Prix.

“We could consult with a specialist if you want.”

He stands up and goes to his suitcase.

“No. I don't think it's necessary now.” My face betrays my words. The question of why a pregnancy hasn't happened yet has been weighing on my mind for months. “We can wait for some more time.”

He sighs.

“Alright.” His hands rest on the handle of his suitcase. “I have to go. Will you be okay?”

“If I say no, will you stay here with me?” Compassion fills his eyes, making me immediately regret what I just said. I truly wish he would give up work sometimes, but I would never ask him for that. Not wanting to be inconvenient, and already knowing the answer. “I'm kidding. Go, go save the world, number forty-four.”

“You're my world.” Lewis walks over to me and plants a kiss on my forehead. That makes me smile. “See you on Monday.”

I go down the dozens of stairs arranged in front of the court. I sit down on one of the steps before reaching the end of them.

The streets are bustling. It couldn't be different on a Tuesday morning. I try to focus on the lives of people swiftly passing by, hoping to distract myself from the lump in my throat.

There are so many things on my mind that I can't even concentrate on one of them. It's like a buzzing is taking over me, leaving no room for anything else. Neither my expectations for a new life, nor the object kept in my bag, nor the hypothesis that should be consuming me, nor my marriage dissipating while I watch it all, nor my exhaustion. None of this is enough to make me feel anything.

I notice his presence beside me through my peripheral vision. He sits down, leaving almost no space between us but without touching me. I don't move to look at him or to move away from his figure. I remain focused on the people walking in front of us, wishing at this moment to have the life of the lady strolling peacefully with her dog through the streets of Monaco.

"How did we get to this?"

Of all the things I expected to hear from Lewis after weeks of not talking, this would be the last of my assumptions.

I don't think much before responding to him.

“I don't know.” I feel his gaze on me, but I still don't turn to him. “I don't think it happened at a specific moment. If only we could attribute it to one exact thing, it would make things easier.”

I can hear his breath next to me; he seems shaken, restless in his place.

“Y/n, if I could go back and undo what I did...”

“It wouldn't change a thing.” I interrupt his speech. I couldn't bear to hear Lewis's lamentations, especially at a moment like this, where I'm so detached from my own self that I'm not even aware of my emotions. “Our marriage ended before you cheated me. It ended long before that, long before losing our child. It happened, I don't think it's a good idea to keep tormenting ourselves thinking about what could have been. Because it wasn't. Simple as that. We're here today.”

He stares at me; I know he's looking into my eyes, and from the position of his body leaning towards me, I can deduce that he longs for my reciprocity. But I don't want to, and I can't look at him right now. As much as all my instincts honed over these years are begging me to go towards him.

“What if we kept trying?" He doesn't even believe in his own words. The sentence comes out like a final sigh.

“We tried for a long time. But we gave up at some point. We kept giving up on small things until they turned into huge things.”

This is the end. I know that. I've had it in my mind for a long time, and I'm sure of this decision. But it should hurt less. I should at least have the ability to breathe or to face my — still — husband.

I don't feel my words coming. I just feel the need to say them, maybe because I need a conclusion. Or because I got used to sharing everything with him, and that's still something that needs to go away.

“I don't feel happy to be here today. Maybe I should have fought more, and you too. But despite that, I know this is the right decision. And even if you don't admit it, I know you agree with me. There's no point in thinking about what could have been done when, in the end, we're here today. And nothing will change that.”

Finally, I gather the courage to look at him. He looks like a complete stranger, a totally different person than he used to be.

His gaze, which was always the thing I loved most about him, now doesn't have the same effect on me. Everything about Lewis seems off. And even though I'm close to him, I don't feel him here.

The person by my side has become a stranger. I'm overwhelmed by grief for someone who is alive and in front of me but is nowhere near who they used to be.

I stare at him for a few seconds before speaking again.

“That's the only regret I have. This habit of deceiving ourselves, the complacency we let take over our marriage. Because if we had realized earlier, if we hadn't let it get to this point where we both ended up hurt, then I would remember all these years with immense happiness. But that's not what happens. I can't even look at you because it hurts so much.” I watch tears invade his eyes right in front of mine. I feel anger and regret at the same level. “And that's the part that kills me. Knowing that the best years of my life will be the most painful to remember.” Only when I stop to breathe do I realize that I'm also crying. I let the tears flow freely down my face as I continue my train of thought. “I don't know if this feeling will change. If with time, it will get better, all I know is what I'm feeling today and what I'm living today. And I've decided that from now on, this is what I'm going to focus on. The present.”

He doesn't say anything for some time.

We stare at each other without any intention whatsoever. There's nothing to be said that would make any difference.

“I'm sorry.” I barely recognize his voice, just like the rest of his being.

“I know. Me too.”

Day 2,125

“The notification sound on my phone breaks my focus from the TV program. I grab the device resting on the couch cushion and check the notification. As soon as I read the message, my boredom is replaced by another wave of hope, as it has been happening every month for over a year.

The notification arrived, and Lewis is home today, things that almost never happen at the same time. Maybe this is a sign that this month will finally be the one that works.

Everything is seen as a sign for a desperate woman.

I jump off the couch and head towards our bedroom.

Lewis is lying down, his attention fixed on the large TV, airing the same program I was watching in the living room. The realization leaves me confused, and even a little sad. Why would he prefer to stay away from me than do exactly the same thing he's doing here, next to me?!

I swallow my wounded ego and ignore the unpleasant feeling that this understanding left me. After all, what we need to do is much bigger than my tantrum.

I climb onto the bed and approach him. Lewis doesn't bother to move.

I straddle his lap without any difficulty. My kisses start on his lips and are instinctively reciprocated by him, but his hands remain inert. I grind on his lap in an attempt to stir something. Nothing.

I move my kisses towards his abdomen, and it's only at that moment that Lewis takes some action. Not the one I wanted, of course.

“Y/n. Love. Not today, okay?*

His hands come to me, not to enjoy more of my touch, but to stop me from continuing. This irritates me, but it doesn't prevent me from continuing. I return to his neck and distribute kisses on his skin, with no intention of giving up what I need.

“Come on. It'll be quick.”

I lower my hands to the elastic of his sweatpants while still showering him with kisses, but my movements are interrupted by him.

“Y/n, stop! I said no.” His voice is loud, which makes me stop immediately.

He moves away from me abruptly. Lewis gets up without any care for how he leaves me on the bed.

I feel embarrassed like never before, anger comes in the same dimension.

”Lewis, what the fuck?!”

“I'm tired of this shit. What do you think? That I'm a damn robot you can press a button and get whatever you want? That's ridiculous.”

“I thought you wanted this too.”

Lewis's breathing is audible; he's restless as he stares at me.

"And I want to, but not like this. When was the last time we had sex because we were horny, not because we're obligated to fuck every time your phone notifies you about your fertile period, Y/n?"

"I don't know, Lewis. I'm trying to get what both of us want here."

"Yes, you're trying that by becoming the coldest person on earth. What's the next step? Do you want me to come in a jar and hand it over to you?"

"That's actually a good idea. It would make things a lot easier."

Sarcasm slips out of me effortlessly. I feel anger rising in my body. And anxiety too.

"For God's sake!" He enters the bathroom but leaves the door open. I hear the running water from the tap for a few seconds before he speaks again.

"What the hell do you want, Lewis?!" My voice erupts in a scream.

He comes back quickly to stand in front of me.

“My wife!" He yells too. "That's what I want, Y/n. Can you bring her back?! Or has this obsession taken her away too?"

My frustration is so intense that I feel my throat burning with tears that want to fall. We've never shouted at each other, never fought like we are now. Everything feels like a horrible and senseless chaos.

"I had a terrible weekend. And you didn't even bother to ask how things are. I asked you to come with me to the Grand Prix, and you chose to stay here, probably to consult with another doctor to tell you exactly what all the others have said, if there's any other doctor left in Monaco that you haven't consulted. You're so blinded by this idea that you forgot to keep living your life."

A humorless laugh escapes my lips.

"Oh, poor little thing. You had a terrible weekend? I had a terrible year, Lewis! And I'm not crying because no one came to console me or anything like that. I'm trying to do what I should, what both of us want. You don't have the right to judge me for that." I get out of bed and walk towards the door. Frustrated and overwhelmed by guilt. Today could have been the day, but it wasn't. It wasn't because he didn't want it. "Grow up, Lewis. And if you want someone to pat you on the head, go find someone else, because it won't be me."

It's the last thing I say before slamming the door behind me.”

“I think we should go back inside.”

His voice breaks the silence between us, which has lingered for some time. We stopped talking minutes ago, but we didn't feel the need to move away from each other.

I think we both know that this is the last time we stay together like this. There's no guilt in wanting to prolong this moment, as sad as it may be.

I nod as I look back at him.

I know this was the opportunity to finally tell him what I believe is happening, but I simply can't. It was too hard to get to this point, and sharing my suspicions would only hurt him and further delay the inevitable. I don't need to subject him to that, because if I'm truly right, I know this issue won't be something that lingers for long. And if I can spare him from this additional pain, that's what I'll do.

"I'll sign the papers. If that's really what you want."

"No. That's definitely not what I want, Lewis." I stand up alongside him. "But it's what we have to do if there's still any respect left for what we both lived together."

We enter the grand courtroom together, taking small steps. We walk side by side without any hurry towards the cold room that awaits us, not saying a word. No need for more lamentations. Certain of what will happen, uncertain about the future we hadn't imagined without each other.

I return to my seat, my heart racing as everyone settles in.

"My client agrees to the counterproposal," his lawyer breaks the silence.

"That's good. Now that both parties agree, you may finally sign the documents, please," the mediator seems almost relieved.

The knot in my throat chokes me. I want to escape from here, I want to cry like a baby right now. This hurts like hell. I didn't think I would have a breakdown at this moment, not when everything is so close to ending.

I try to hold myself together, to keep my breathing in check and not show how close I am to bursting into tears and screams. I think I do well in that, as the only person who notices my instability is the only person in the room who is in the same situation as I am.

His red eyes betray a nearly palpable pain.

It shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be ending this way.

We promised we would die together, old and gray, in our house with the white façade surrounded by flowers in London.

It wasn't supposed to end in a cold room at the first instance court in Monaco. This is so damn unfair.

Lewis takes the white papers that were handed to him by his lawyer. His hands shake, but only I notice. He doesn't avert his gaze from mine, not for a second, not even as he picks up the black pen placed in front of him. He wants to be sure. He wants one last confirmation from me.

Day 0

"Our hands fit perfectly. I instantly feel calmer with his touch. I step away from my father as I approach my fiancé.

“You look perfect.” He whispers in my ear as he gets close. The emotion in his voice is clear. Lewis plants a kiss on my cheek before turning to my father.

They shake hands. My father pulls Lewis into a half-hug, I know something is said in the midst of it by the older man, but I don't hear what. Just the possibilities that pass through my mind are enough to make me laugh.

Lewis doesn't take long to turn back to me; now his attention is entirely mine.

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, we are gathered here on this special day to celebrate the love and union of two souls who have decided to embark on this journey of life together.”

The celebrant begins to speak. My heart races, and the smile on my face feels like it will stay there forever.

Lewis looks more handsome than ever. His happiness manages to make him even more beautiful, as if that were possible. I want to look around, see if the flowers arranged are the ones we chose, or if everyone we invited is present. But I couldn't, I couldn't look anywhere when I have the best thing in my life right in front of me. Moving his mouth and telling me "I love you" without making a sound. Just for me to know, just to make it clear.

“Marriage is a unique moment, as it is the union of two individuals who choose to share their dreams, joys, and challenges side by side. Today, Lewis and Y/n, you are taking an important step in your lives, a step that represents the promise to love and care for each other, regardless of the circumstances. The journey of love is marked by highs and lows, but it is the partnership and complicity that will help you overcome all obstacles together. Love is the force that binds your hearts, making you stronger, braver, and more willing to face any adversity. Now, I ask for everyone's attention for the vows of the newlyweds.”

Anxiety consumes me even more, but I am excited to finally be able to say the words I have been holding inside me.

I turn to Alessia, who stands behind me. She hands me the small piece of paper I entrusted to her earlier.

I try to breathe a few times before starting to pronounce the words written by me on the lined paper.

“I think it's not news to anyone here how much of a dreamer I am. Everyone who knows me has heard about my fantasies at some point.” My laughter is accompanied by that of my guests. “Many of them I judged and was aware of being impossible. After all, I know that nothing can be perfect.” I take my eyes off the paper and lock eyes with Lewis for a few seconds. “I never thought I would be so happy to be wrong.”

I try to hold back the tears as I speak, but I know my emotion is implicit and one step away from taking over me.

“You showed me that my unrealistic dreams are not only possible but even better than in my imagination. Love transcends what I thought was impossible. Your love showed me that even the bad parts are worth it if I have you by my side.” Lewis smiles in a way different from the usual, tears fill his eyes too. Which only makes me even more fulfilled. “I never imagined that I would marry that guy I met by mere chance on a night out with my friends. Not because I didn't like you right away; because I think it's clear how I was already won over by you before even knowing your name.” His laughter echoes within me. “But because I imagined that when I found the love of my life, the feeling would be different. I would be afraid, anxious, uncertain at times. After all, that's what my mind and all love stories make us believe. That it has to be complicated to be real. But that's not what happened, everything between you and me was natural, it felt right from the beginning.”

I need a few seconds to breathe, look at our guests for a brief moment, and can capture all the emotion present in the room.

How is it possible for a moment to be so magical? How could all of this result in anything other than the perfection of a life together? I thought I was sure of something until now, but this feeling shows me otherwise. There is nothing within me greater than the conviction of the right decision for the love of my life.

“I took a while to realize that this is the essence of true love. The kind that happens fluidly and unconditionally, without pressures, fears, or insecurities. In you, I found the security and comfort I didn't even know I was looking for. Now, looking back at everything we've been through, I realize that every step that brought us here was guided by destiny. Every moment we shared, every laugh, every tear, everything was part of a carefully written plot for us to find each other in this perfect fairy tale.”

“And, my love, I promise to keep cherishing this feeling that binds us. Because it was by your side that I learned that true love doesn't need to be complicated or uncertain. I thank chance, destiny, and all the forces and entities that brought us together. I am blessed for this, and there are not enough words to express my gratitude at this moment. May our love continue to grow, to blossom, and may we face every challenge together with courage and complicity. Because if I'm by your side, I know there's nothing to fear, and we'll be fine as long as we're together.”

I articulate the last sentences while looking into your eyes; they are already engraved in me even before writing them.

Lewis presses his lips together; there are a few seconds of silence before we laugh at each other. In a mix of tears and happiness.

Knowing that it's now his turn makes me more anxious than minutes ago when I started my speech.

“Oh God.” He whispers with a choked voice. “How do you expect me to say anything after that?”

“Just breathe. I'm right here.”

Our hands connect again. I tighten my grip on him, waiting for the time Lewis needs to prepare.

Eventually, Lewis brings his hand to the pocket of his pants and takes out a folded piece of paper.

I notice the tremor in his hands. But his smile remains intact.

“Y/n…” He looks at me for a few seconds before returning his gaze to the paper. “I could spend hours here telling you how certain I am that you are the love of my life. How you showed me a life that I never imagined would be mine. Or how you taught me so much that I don't know how I survived before I met you.” The hand holding the paper tightens with a certain force, but his expression, in contrast, brings me peace. “But there are not enough vows of love to tell you what I would like now, Y/n. I don't think there's a combination of words that comes close to expressing what I really want, what I feel inside me. That's why I'm not going to try, not at this moment, not in this way. I will show you, every day, what no phrase at this moment could. And that's my promise to you.”

I feel an euphoria that could be mistaken for anxiety; each word of his envelops me in a way that I even feel numb, as if floating in an almost immortal state while I listen to him. Everything within me echoes that this is the moment, the pinnacle of genuine happiness. It's the moment I intend to remember every day for the rest of my life.

Simply, the best moment of all.

I even make an effort to set aside the awareness of my emotions a little. I'm not sure what could happen if I completely surrender to what I'm feeling. It's like a nirvana, and I hope it lasts forever within me.

Lewis pauses for a few seconds before continuing.

“You are the best part of me. I am my best version when I have you by my side. And for that, I promise to cultivate each of these things that move us, promise to take care of this love and never let it go away. I promise to remember every day how lucky I am to have a wife like you, even in those moments when you drive me crazy wanting something and not being sure what, and thinking I should be a deciphering master.” Everyone laughs, tears mixed with happiness on our faces. “No. It's okay, actually your ability to confuse me is one of the things I love about you.”

“You are light. You are happiness. You are peace and a storm at the same time; you are my foundation, the love of the life of someone who never believed in fairy tales. You are my fortress, and I hope to be yours. So, I'll be here, always right here, by your side. Making sure you are always content, always supported, never alone. Never alone.” He emphasizes the last sentence. His eyes glued to mine. “I love you.”

His gaze, intense and suffocating, seems to penetrate my skin, but I maintain composure, hiding the storm unraveling within me. Any gesture from me could end up prolonging this unbearable moment, and honestly, I don't know if I could endure another hour in this room.

I resist the temptation to look away and, instead, just nod slightly. In the ensuing silence, I try to capture every detail, every line on his face, as if this were the last time I would see him. His eyes, which once shone with love, now reflect only the shadow of what we were. His Adam's apple moves, and his gaze shifts away from mine, finally releasing me from this anguish.

The fingers holding the pen are tense, white from the applied pressure. The fine tip touches the paper, leaving a trail of farewell.

A final uncertain glance.

The last second as wife and husband.

I can't believe it ended like this.

But that's how it ends. Not with a bang, but with a suffocating silence, marking the end of something we swore to be eternal. The last trace of our connection fades away, and now all that remains is the journey unfolding before me. A life now redefined by the absence of what once was us.

[…]

I enter the apartment, and exhaustion takes over my body.

It's still mid-morning, but it feels like days have passed since I woke up.

My new home is nothing like the previous one; it's a simple apartment with three bedrooms that seems to have the perfect size to avoid feeling cramped but also not so large as to leave me lonely.

The apartment of a single woman.

The walls are predominantly white, with a single exception in the living room. I painted one of the walls blue on my first day here, a choice that now seems too impulsive. I look at that wall and feel a twinge of regret, but the idea of repainting it is simply inconceivable.

I don't even like the color blue.

Suddenly, I become aware of the object I tucked into my bag days ago, and for the first time since the purchase, I feel anxious about the possibilities it holds.

I close my hand around the strap of my bag and walk to the bathroom, no hurry, but my heart beats unevenly.

I lock the door behind me, even though I'm alone, a habit I haven't lost even after leaving my parents' house.

My breath would be audible even if the house weren't in the absolute silence it finds itself in.

I do what I've done at least two hundred times in my life; there's no need to look at the instructions. At this point, it has become muscle memory. The ritual unfolds in silence, marked only by the subtle sound of paper and plastic.

With care, I return the test to its place in the small box. Hesitation hangs in the air, a prolonged pause before facing what I already know. The urgency to find out competes with the reluctance to confront. I'm not ready; I don't want to relive all of that again. The fear inside me grows to proportions I've never experienced before. If I had the slightest strength, I could have a breakdown now.

I leave the bathroom, seeking more space, trying to alleviate the suffocating sensation. The small box still in my hand.

The indicated 3 minutes have passed; the instructions say to disregard after 15 minutes. I have 12 minutes, 12 minutes to avoid the answer, 12 minutes where I still pretend not to know anything, where I can continue to delude myself for another brief interval. 12 minutes that allow me to postpone the inevitable confrontation, as if ignoring the clock could freeze the reality that may await me.

There are tears. Tears that I don't know if they're of sadness, joy, or a complex combination of both. Each drop seems to carry the weight of a journey, mourning the past loss, the uncertainty of the future, and the unexpected surprise of the possibility of a new life forming.

There's a trembling smile playing at the corners of my lips. It's a smile marked by vulnerability, fear, and resilience. The irony of discovering this right after the divorce seems to hang in the air, but there's also a flame of courage that ignites within me. A strength that arises from the need to face this chapter alone.

There is confusion. My heart feels like a maze of contradictory sensations. The duality of emotions manifests in thoughts that collide, in doubts intertwining with fearful hopes. How to balance the fragility of a new life with the pain of a previous loss? Or rather, two losses?

There is fear. It feeds on the vulnerability of being alone. The specter of the past loss still looms over me, a shadow that whispers fears. The uncertainty of what is to come.

There is happiness. Happiness that arises from the understanding that life, despite its painful twists, goes on. A new life, an opportunity to start over, even if the scenery seems daunting at first glance. It's the hope that ignites in the face of darkness.

I gather the necessary courage and hold the object firmly. I take it out of the box.

There are two lines.

[…]

Life unfolds, it happens, even though I may want to stop it at times. Choices and changes, at times, leave eternal scars. And if it hurt enough to leave a mark, it means it should always be remembered.

Before me, there is a blank canvas, a path never treaded before, where I carry my baggage and memories that I'm not sure will fade so quickly.

The pain makes room for resilience, a chance for redefinition. Life shows that the ability to move forward is the source of overcoming, even when the future is unstable and uncertain.

Even in the quietest corners of my story, there is a subtle melody that continues to play, reminding me that, despite everything, life persists, transforming into an eternal flow.

Life metamorphoses, flowing like a river that, even in the face of obstacles, finds its way, reminding me that persistence is the essence of existence.

However, this same persistence, although it is the force that makes us move forward, can also be the cause of pain, of giving up, and of exhaustion.

Learn when to say goodbye.

N/a: OMG I´M BACK!😭

I won't even justify my absence. I simply couldn't write for a long time. But I hope it was worth it. Here it is, the last chapter, finally. I hope to be able to write again and bring more stories. Thank you to everyone who followed and had patience. ❤️❤️

#au fanfiction #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #f1 #formula 1 #george russell

[elcpsstuff]

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F) (Part 4)

a/n: how we feeling so far you guys? I don’t know how long this story will be but definitely at least 10 chapters if not more :) enjoy!

—

2 years go, age 15 (Fall)

“Frankie gets me so angry sometimes, even though I love her” I tell Conrad over the phone as I walk outside. The cool night breeze hits me like a wave I’ve been waiting for.

“she’s a lot, but she has a good heart” He replies.

“you do remember when she came for the fourth this summer?” I could hear him laugh through the phone.

“Yeah, how could i forget when she sucked off Jeremiah’s face during spin the bottle.”

That’s right. She did do that. I still remember when she had purposely stopped the bottle to land on him. Only I had noticed.

Silence had never been more noticeable.

“Well,” Conrad starts, “I wouldn’t have kissed her.”

I smile. “That would be funny.” No it wouldn’t. I would’ve lost all my brain cells. Jeremiah was hard enough.

I hear him laugh through the phone silently.

“So I learned something today.” I say, sitting down at the steps of our driveway.

“oh yeah? tell me.” I could tell he was smiling which made me smile.

“So my science teacher is a total love sap, and she told us today that if we see a shooting star it’s a sign of love, and that we’ve found our soulmate.” I couldn’t help the laugh that left my lips. “Isn’t that weird? She’s so cringey.”

Conrad didn’t say anything.

“Conrad?”

“That’s cute.” He says softly.

“Of course you would think it is.” I roll my eyes playfully.

“Hey, stop that.”

I giggle. “You can’t really make me stop, your hours away.”

“I wish I wasn’t. I miss you.” He says so quietly, like he didn’t want me to hear. But I did anyways. I always heard Conrad.

“I miss you too. Don’t worry though, the summers come fast.” I reassure him, and I think myself too.

“yn! What are you doing out here?” I hear a voice yell and I know it’s Stevens. I pull my phone away from my ear and see it’s 12:06 am. Shit. it’s late.

“Your gonna get kidnapped! Who are you talking to?”

Conrad laughs from the other side of the phone, “Is that Steven? And are you outside?”

“Shhh hold on.” I pull the phone away from my ear and look towards the figure which I make out as Steven, “give me a minute please!”

“Now!”

I sigh, pulling the phone back to my ear, “I should probably get to bed anyways, I have morning volleyball practice tomorrow.”

“It’s Saturday?”

“Coach doesn’t care.” I say with a small laugh thinking about what my coach would do If i didn’t show up.

“Well, I should get going too, I need to look for my shooting star.”

I laugh, “What? In a hurry to find your soulmate?”

“No, I know I already have.”

—

After changing into more comfortable clothes, I walked into Belly’s room and she was pacing once again.

“Bells? What are you doing?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what to wear.”

I chuckle while flopping onto her bed, “It’s just a book party. Laurel won’t mind.”

Belly’s face forms this guilty smile and I immediately pick up on it.

“Unless something else is happening I don’t know about?”

She rushes next to me on the bed and looks at me panicked, “What if I told you cam asked me out on a date? And I said yes.”

A smirk appears on my face, “This is new.”

“yn! I need help! I feel like i’m dying.”

I giggle and shove Belly’s shoulder. “Do that flowery crop top. It’s cute.”

She smiles and stands up, grabbing the shirt from her closet. She slips it on and looks in the mirror. She looked really nice.

“See? Perfect.”

She turns back around to face me, “Hey, I saw you and Conrad earlier, what was up with that?”

I feel my hands tense up when she mentions Conrad. The most twisted thought i’ve ever had is that Belly loved me and Conrad not being best friends anymore. She bathed in this situation. I tried not to think it, but she was in love with him. No matter how many dates she went on with Cam.

I hated it. Why? I don’t know.

“Oh, nothing. He was just at the club looking for Nicole and we ended up walking home together.” I lie. I had to because I couldn’t really tell her that we got into a sorta almost fight because he drives me crazy and I can’t stop thinking about last summer, which creeps into my mind every second-

So of course I lied.

“Oh, okay.”

—

I walked downstairs beside Belly and see the boys playing a video game. They were super into it which made me laugh. Conrad still looked moody though.

“Bye guys.” Belly says, attempting to gain the boys attention. Jeremiah looks at Belly and his jaw drops. Of course it did.

“Damn Bells.” He smiles, dropping his remote and walking over to spin Belly around. As much as I hate to say it, it’s cute. This interaction.

Then the moment turned sour because I realized maybe I didn’t really like Jeremiah. Maybe he was just a distraction that I tried to convince myself was real. Maybe I was trying to cover up the truth about him. I can’t even say his name.

“Conrad, over here man.” Steven pushes Conrad’s shoulder and that’s when I notice Conrad staring.

I sigh and turn to Belly, “Have fun, okay? Text me if you need anything.”

She nods and rushes out the door, and I see Jeremiah’s eyes linger to her. Maybe he really did like her.

I smirk and run over to the couch, jumping in the middle of Conrad and Steven and grabbing Jeremiah’s remote.

“Hey!” Jeremiah pouts.

“I’m about to kick all your asses.” I claim. Steven laughs in a manner which meant your not good enough, but try.

Maybe I did loose.

Once the game was done Laurel and Susannah came downstairs and we all got ready to head out. My phone rang when I saw a text from a number. Josh.

Hey stranger. I was thinking, and thinking led me to texting you.

I found myself giggling at his message. He seemed like a good guy. I think Steven picked up on it because he looked at me disapprovingly.

“Yn. Who are you texting?”

Conrad then stood up from the couch.

“Oh.. um just this person.”

Jeremiah smirks and leans over and before I can blink, my phone is gone.

I groan. Shit. “Jeremiah!”

He holds the phone high while reading the message. “ooo, who’s this lover boy?”

I could feel Conrad’s eyes on me. Burning into my soul.

“His name is Josh. He was at the bonfire.” I hold my hand out hoping that was enough proof and to my surprise it was, Jeremiah hands me the phone back.

“I think I know him from around.” Jeremiah states.

“That guys an ass. You could do better.” Conrad blurts out.

Utter silence is all I remember. It was awkward. Painfully awkward. Why did it make me want to slap him but then hug him at the same time? Tell him, it’s okay Connie. Like he had done many times for me.

Like when I was 12 and he was 13. I was upset because I had scraped my leg against the side of the pool and was bleeding. I was being pretty dramatic. That still didn’t stop Conrad from helping me.

“Yn, are you okay?” He reached for my hand and helped me get out of the pool. Tears streamed down my face but he wiped them.

“Here, I’ll help you.” He shared a half smile with me. I nodded, somewhat feeling better.

That was a good day.

“Well, ready to go?” Susannah says, breaking the silence Conrad caused.

We all nod and make our way to the car. This would be one of the longer night in cousins and I felt it.

—

And I drank to that.

I love Laurel, but this party blows ass. Conrad has been drinking in the corner the whole night and I can’t help but want to as well. The drinks look nice.

I slowly walk over to where he’s been pouring drinks the whole night and smile, “Give me some.” I grab a cup.

Even though he tried to hide it, a smile crept up on his face. “Are you gonna proceed to do everything I do?”

I rolled my eyes, “You don’t own drinking.” I take the bottle from him and pour some into my cup. He stares at me and I can’t help but notice.

“What?” I say.

“Nothing.” He turns away, almost giving me the cold shoulder. I want to slap him. Slap him so hard that he falls to the ground and starts bleeding. But I don’t. I don’t because I can’t ruin this night for Laurel.

“Hey, you can have it back now.” I almost whisper, handing the bottle to him. I felt like I was invading his privacy, he had literally been hoarding the drinks the whole night. People were starting to notice.

He nods, putting his hands around the bottle and I can feel his fingertips graze mine. I let go quickly and rush towards the couches where I find Steven and Jeremiah.

“This is so boring.” Jeremiah pouts.

“I don’t see anything else to do.” I say.

“How about we go buy some weed or something?” Jeremiah adds, suddenly perky.

“Or.. we could go to the drive in?” Steven says and he has a smug look on his face. I shake my head immediately.

“Steven, no.”

“Let’s do it.” I hear a voice from behind me speak and I know who it is. It’s the voice that I used to hear. The voice I think I still heard all the time. Whatever I wanted, he didn’t. Whatever I didn’t, he wanted.

All I could do was pull out my phone and send a text to Belly.

please don’t be mad.

—

She was.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?!” Belly screams while getting out of the car. I could see Cam in the distance going to get something, probably food or drinks.

“Relax, Bells.” Jeremiah says through laughs. Belly then looks towards me angrily.

“Belly, I tried to warn you.” I pull out my phone and show her the text message I sent her.

“Steven, if you don’t leave I’ll show everyone in here your Dramoine fanfic.” Stevens face turns red as Conrad and Jeremiah let a few laughs slip.

“He spent a whole chapter on Draco’s wand.” I add.

“Shut up!” Steven yells.

Jeremiah pats Steven on the back, “Don’t be embarrassed man, Draco’s hot.”

Belly than looks at me and Conrad with a soft look, “Can you please leave?”

I nod, “Let’s go.”

Steven sighs and begins to drive back to the house, and I laugh at how dramatic belly is.

I felt Conrad’s head lean on my shoulder and I could also smell the Vodka on him. It was kinda sad. He was so lost. It’s not like he didn’t drink before, but this was different.

I decided it was best not to fight and pretend like everything was fine. Like it was normal.

“Tired?” I whisper.

“Yeah.” He says. Almost like a little kid.

If I closed my eyes or really zoned out, I could pretend this was really normal. Before everything happened. Before everything got so fucked up.

—

heyyyyy! that was it for this chapter :) I’ve been trying my best to get them out so I hope you enjoy. very slow burn if u didn’t notice lol. what do you guys think happened? also like I said lots of flashbacks to get us where we are so hang in there !!

tag list: @kkrenae @callsignwidow @drikawinchester @johannelis2302nely

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #team conrad #team jeremiah #belly conklin #tsitp #conrad x reader #love #summer love

[hael987]

Maybe one day I’ll stop talking about consent in this series. But they continue to do it so well that I can’t help myself because I love it.

The scene right here

the touch to call his attention. The open arm, just waiting. Letting Team decide. I love everything about it.

The silence in this scene is what makes it so beautiful to me. Words may not be being spoken, but things are still being communicated.

Sometimes consent is about a verbal “yes”, but sometimes it can be as simple as letting the other person choose with their actions. It’s literally that simple to weave consent into interactions.

In the continuing saga on raving over consent in this series I feel like this moment is going to be one of my favourites. He offers the opportunity but leaves the decision or action entirely in Team’s hands. He doesn’t take anything for granted, not the fact that Team walked himself into his bed nor the fact that they’ve cuddled to sleep before. He thinks this is what Team needs but he doesn’t assume anything and instead leaves it as a decision Team can choose on his own.

He’s not pushy, he just offers and waits patiently as Team decides what he wants, what he needs. Silently being beside him, letting him know he’s there, that he’s willing to comfort him is that’s what he wants. That he’s there and it’s okay with him, Team will be okay with him. That it’s okay even if the words aren’t spoken, Win will still understand.

The consent is still clear and obvious, but (this time) it doesn’t need words. All it needed was for Win to propose the action and leave the choice to Team. It’s exactly what Team needed in that moment. He didn’t want to talk about his pain or suffering, probably doesn’t even want to acknowledge it. If verbally asked, he’d probably deny it. But Win provides him the exact thing that he needed: an offer of silent and sturdy reassurance and comfort. That Win will be there for him whenever he needs him.

#between us #between us the series #between us ep 4 #winteam #between us the consent chronicles #king of consent and security #a true safe place for team #I love this series so damn much 😭 #I’m going to watch it again rn I think

[words-of-wolf]

Having some Thoughts once more.

Specifically thinking about self-policing identity. Obviously policing others is a huge issue in the alterhuman and adjacent communities, but setting up my soap box here to talk about how we internalise the need to police identity.

Putting a cut here because god do I need to stop writing these walls of text that people then have to scroll past for eternity even if they're not interested in reading it asjdkhjksah !!

When I was a teen, I saw otherkin and therians self-policing and I respected them. I thought they were really strong for doing that; I thought it was necessary, and that the only way we could ever be accepted as a community is if we leaned hard into minimising our experiences, making things "palatable". It wasn't a conscious belief, but it was very present.

So that's what I emulated. Any discussion of my experiences, or my feelings, usually would get a lot of reassurances sprinkled in there: "this is just my beliefs", "it's okay if you don't believe this too", "I know this sounds far-fetched", "this is just my internal identity".

I thought that made me sound reasonable and respectable. Maybe it even did.

But nowadays, I see people doing this kind of thing - minimising their experiences, adding disclaimers, policing themselves - and mostly it just makes me feel sad for them. Not in a condescending way, cause I've been there, I know how it feels to believe you've gotta make yourself sound "reasonable" to be respected. But I don't feel respect for that attitude, it just makes me sad.

And now, I'm here growing into a version of myself where I finally start to feel like I'm an adult, and I finally start to feel like I'm myself in a way unhindered by that constant fear and self-regulation, and I can see plain as day how much the self-policing doesn't actually work.

Cause you could present the weirdest, most outlandish identity possible to someone, but if you don't make a big deal out of it they probably won't either. Casual but unapologetic is, I think, the best way to go. You don't always have to hide yourself. (Obviously, take time to judge your situation first, but, same goes for most things outside of "the norm").

But presenting yourself as some vulnerable thing who has to placate any aggression before it even happens - well, that just makes people uncomfortable, and the mean ones will single you out as a target for it more than they'd do with someone who's just kinda "whatever" about the whole situation.

And the same thing goes for if you have an identity that feels weird by alterhuman standards, y'know? Chill but unapologetic will get you far. You'll feel more comfortable in yourself, too. Cause when everything you say is minimised, you can start to internalise that too - and it can make you feel like embracing your identity wholeheartedly is a bad thing, or like your own perception of self should have the same uncertainty to it that your descriptions of it do.

I think... the desire and impulse to self-police and minimise is not something you can just "switch off". But I hope reading this can get the ball rolling for those of you out there who struggle with this in the same way I did!

You don't need to police yourself. You don't need to censor yourself.

Doing this doesn't help the community, and it doesn't increase our standing and validity in the eyes of people on the outside. At best, it does nothing; at worst, it makes us seem uncertain, nervous, and an easy target.

And doing this hurts yourself. It affects things in ways that are hard to even see, but take it from someone who's experienced it: these feelings can pierce so, so deep.

You don't need to apologise for who you are. I don't care how "weird" your identity or experiences are - it's you, it's who you are, nobody can touch that. And if you're genuine about it, people will accept you for it, and sometimes gravitate towards you, even; particularly the others who feel the same way, who are the "weird ones" among the weirdos.

Cause when you're unapologetic, when you're genuine in a way that's not flavoured by fear, you kinda... become a safe space. You create an atmosphere around you that gives other people permission to do the same. To just be themselves, without the uncertainty and fear.

And that's really special! It's important.

#alterhuman #otherkin #therian #self acceptance #life advice

[softxsuki]

Hi, I hope I sent this in time! This is for Valentines Day Letter event. I'd like to request a letter with Pro!Hero Todoroki with a quirkless Fem!reader. We're in an established relationship (we were highschool sweethearts and have been together ever since). Also, I'd like if he called me 'honey' in the letter.

Tone/Genre: Proposal and adoration

Location: We live together but, he's always out on hero duty so I rarely see him home. The letter was left on a page of my favorite book.

Other info: We're both 25. I'm a hopeless romantic and, he does everything he can to show his love and appreciation for me. Sometimes I overthink but, he's there to support me. I'm quirkless so, I work as a digital artist. While waiting for him to return home, I do my hobbies which are reading, writing.

Thanks!

Todoroki's Proposal Letter to His Girlfriend

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

| Pairing: Todoroki x Fem!Reader| Genre: Fluff | Post-Type: Letter | Word Count: 980 |

Warnings: kissing?

Note: Hey! Happy Valentine's Day, hope you enjoy your letter from Todoroki :)

You were finally relaxed for the evening after coming home from work, your body practically melting into your favorite chair. Your boyfriend, Todoroki had paid someone to create a little reading nook for you, but perhaps it was more like your own mini library. There were shelves upon shelves of books you needed to read along with sprinkles of books you’ve already read and loved.

Your fingers find the book you had been making your way through and couldn’t wait to get lost within the words on the page for another evening while waiting for your boyfriend to return home from his hero duties. Though, as you flip to the page your bookmark was holding, you furrow your brows in confusion at the envelope tucked between the pages. 

You gently open it, closing your book and placing it to the side as you begin to read the letter to yourself;

Dear Y/N, 

If I’m correct about your daily habits, then it should be around 7pm when you’re finally reading this and I’m hopefully almost home to say this to you directly. But…in the slight chance that I’m not, you’ll probably never see this and I’ll have to come up with another plan.

Happy Valentine’s Day, honey. I can’t believe how long we’ve been together. Looking back on our high school days, I could never picture myself giving my heart to someone, trusting and loving them unconditionally, yet now I can’t imagine my life without you in it. 

You’ve remained by my side through all my family mess and helped me through so many difficult moments in my life. So thank you for loving me and accepting me for all my flaws. I’m terrible at saying these things to you directly. It’s hard for me to fully be vulnerable about my feelings and at times I don’t want to burden you with them even more than I already have.

However, lately I can’t help but want to be even closer to you. The reassurance that you’re here to stay, that you’ll be mine forever. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. We already live together, why not seal the deal?

I don’t want to ask you this important question in a letter when I’m not home to see how you’ll react, but please wait for me for a few more minutes. I’ll be there to ask you shortly. I love you.

Yours,

Sho.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest at the words you read. Was he really about to come home and propose to you? Was that what he was hinting at? Your cheeks felt hot at the idea of him wanting to be your husband. 

Did you look okay? You had gotten comfortable in your pajamas for the night already. Would it be better if you changed into something nicer?

Yet you had no time to change or do anything as the familiar beep of the electronic lock in your home sounded, signaling Todoroki was already home. You scramble to your feet and rush to the front door to see him.

Todoroki, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, enters, closing the door behind him, before turning to face you, his eyes softening at the sight of you. You had read his letter, he knew you did.

“Welcome home,” you greet him, eyeing the flowers, your heart thumping in your chest.

He closes the distance between you, pressing a kiss to your lips and taking your hand with his free one.

“Great to be home, I missed you,” a small smile appears on his usually stoic face as he hands you the flowers in his hands, “Got theses for you, honey. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You clutch the flowers in your arms tightly, thanking him. Then he gets down on one knee, one hand still firmly holding yours as he removes a box from his pocket and opens it to display a unique, yet beautiful ring inside it.

“I’m sure you read the letter I left for you and it’s true. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. Not only as my partner, but as my other half. I love you Y/N, more than I thought I’d ever love someone. Would you please marry me?”

It was a little awkward as he fumbled over his words, not used to saying these things out loud, but it was perfect in your eyes.

With teary eyes, you nod your head. You wanted this, you wanted to be his wife and have him as your husband. Making a vow to remain together till death do you part.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” you cry out, watching him as he placed the beautiful ring that fit your taste perfectly, on your ring finger.

He props himself back on his feet so he’s eye level with you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as one of his hands holds the hand with your ring on it, one of his fingers running over the gem.

“Should we just get married now in town?” He asks, almost impatient to call you his wife.

You laugh gently at his subtle excitement beyond his stoic expression that once again took over his features.

“There’s no rush. Let’s enjoy the engaged life for a bit. You’re at the peak of your career right now, we have forever to get married,” you smile, calming him down before he carries you to the marriage registrar’s office.

Reluctantly, he nods at your request. He was excited to marry you, but more than willing to follow your wishes and give you an extravagant wedding ceremony if that’s what you desired. Your life together as an engaged couple was just beginning, and you were beyond excited for what the future held for the both of you.

Posted: 2/14/2024

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #shoto x reader #shoto x you #shoto x y/n

[dyns33]

Fight Club part 2

Part 2 of my little Tyler Durder x Reader

Because of Project Mayhem, people tend to believe that Tyler Durden likes chaos. That he is the embodiment of chaos.

He likes to see others lost, but he is never lost himself. He is completely in control. He knows what's going to happen, because that's what he decided. An agent of chaos, following a straight line. No one seemed to have understood this.

So I was the only person in the world fully aware that if Tyler Durden was in prison, it was his choice.

It's a mistake to think that cutting off the head of the Mayhem project would stop everything. Even though he is the creator, Tyler did everything to keep his beast running without him. A brainless creature, space monkeys, who know perfectly well what their master wants without him needing to speak.

Plus, Tyler won't have his head cut off. His monkeys are everywhere, in the police, among the juries, behind the walls of his prison. He is surrounded by his followers, who ensure his safety.

If he wants, he can go out. It is obvious that he sometimes goes out, for a few hours, a few days, without the authorities being alarmed.

I know this because I know Tyler very well. Without knowing why or how after all this time, I know him. I hear him in my head sometimes. I feel his breath on the back of my neck, a presence as reassuring as it is frightening.

I know him, so I am always careful even if he is in prison, even if he is far away, even if it has been almost a year.

He haunts my thoughts. My nights. I can still see us on that beach, on the plane, in the house. I miss him, and that's what scares me the most. I have to be wary of everything, and myself first.

Jack is still outside, faithful doggie, psycho boy, who probably gives the orders when the leader sleeps in his cell. I don't think they're looking for me. I am dead and buried. But all it takes is one mistake for everything to change.

That's life. People. I'm not perfect. The mistake came one day. It all started with a heart attack on a bus.

Nothing weird, I wasn't even on the bus. Like every day at the same time, I had my coffee on a terrace, my only little moment of relaxation.

The bus passed the café. I didn't even see it anymore. I didn't see the man fall, nor the people around him become alarmed. It didn't matter to me in the slightest.

That was bad news for a federal agent, because the man who had just died was a well known space monkey. Big Bob. Kind Bob, a bit stupid, who continued to obey by traveling all over the country spreading the word of Tyler Durden.

He had seen me. This came as a shock to him, since he was the one who found my body.

It could have ended there, but one of the feds were obsessed with Tyler. With his organization. He wondered if Bob had been murdered, so he went his way, he took the bus, and he saw me too.

We had never met, but when he approached, I knew immediately why he was there.

“Everyone thinks you’re dead.” he said to me as he sat down. Everyone was Tyler.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

He took out a Polaroid photo. Tyler loved Polaroids. He had quite a collection. I know because Marla talked about it sometimes, to annoy Jack. Intimate photos, all the people he had fucked with, in erotic positions, during the act.

We had never fucked. We barely shook hands, and even though I knew what he wanted, there had always been a distance between us. The walls and the ceiling.

I didn't know Tyler took a picture of me while I was sleeping. He had written down my name on it. I wondered if Marla or anyone else had seen it before the police. I wondered how I felt, knowing that he had taken this photo, and the meaning it had.

"He doesn't talk much. He doesn't like me to show him this photo, but he told me it was his heart, and that it was buried under the house. We found a body. You have an explanation ?"

I had tons of explanations, but I didn't want to share them with the agent. Tyler wouldn't have liked it, and I didn't like it either.

“Tell me about him.” he insisted.

"No."

“You know what he’s up to.”

“As much as you.”

“Give me something, or I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice.”

"I don't know anything. We met on a beach, he put me up for a while, then I left. Don't tell him you saw me. It won't do you any good."

My mistake was not to believe that the agent would be intelligent enough to listen to my request. He listened. He didn't tell Tyler that I was alive.

No, my mistake was harder to see, seeming insignificant for several days, until I woke up in the middle of the night.

Even if he didn't tell him I was alive, the agent would still tell Tyler about me, hoping to get a reaction. He already knew from the picture that I was special, a point that needed to be pressed, and he wasn't going to stop.

So he was going to talk about our meeting. He was going to talk about the beach.

No one knew about the beach, except Tyler and me.

Since Tyler never told anyone, he would know everything without the agent needing to speak.

There was a bit of panic when the newspapers announced the escape of the leader of Project Mayhem. Speculation regarding his intentions was endless, ranging from bateriological terrorism, to bombing buildings, to assassinating the president.

Only I really knew why he was out there after all this time.

Contrary to what others think, he never wanted to take control or destroy the world. That wasn't the goal of Project Mayhem. Tyler had a vision on a human scale. He only likes to play, among other things.

If I dreamed of him, he dreamed of me. The difference was that while I was running as far away from his cell as possible, he had no reason to leave since he thought he knew where to find me. He still had his picture, and his memories.

Bob really had a talent for breaking things.

I could have continued to flee. It would have been less easy now that the agents of Chaos knew I was alive, but I could have tried. Like a new game. But I didn't like Tyler's games.

I decided to wait for him in my apartment. It was his move. It was always his move.

When he knocked on my door, he thought about bringing beers and pizza. He did this with Jack at home sometimes, at first. When there was still just the club.

He didn't say anything when he saw me, as if he always knew he would see me again one day. Maybe he knew.

Dinner passed in silence, facing each other, waiting. It was his move. I won't start. He seemed to understand it. He decided to make an effort.

“You remember the beach.” It was not a question.

“A guy building a giant hand, you don’t see that every day.”

"I guess not. You broke my heart. But I forgive you. I didn't think you remembered."

“We wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t remembered that.”

"Maybe not."

“I’ve always wanted to ask you, why this hand ?”

"I wanted to talk to God. Since he didn't answer, I decided to steal his hand. When I was finished, I looked at what it was pointing at and I saw you, looking back at me. Then I knew it was you."

"What me ?"

"It was you." he only repeated, as if I should understand what he meant, and the worst thing was that I understood perfectly what he meant.

Silence returned, as I finished my beer. All this was far too intimate, more intimate than his photos. More domestic. Something was seriously wrong with Tyler Durden.

I didn't know if I should talk about all the other things I knew. That would have made the situation even worse.

“I don’t like chaos.” was the only thing I could say.

"No one likes that, you'd have to be a moron. You never like what's necessary."

“Nothing is necessary.”

"I love you."

I vividly remembered Jack and Marla, two idiots who danced and screamed, unable to clearly admit how they felt and preferring to trample romance with cigarettes and condoms.

I had often judged Jack because of this. Not anymore. I wanted to slap my face with my hands and disappear, as Tyler started to smile.

Since I didn't need to say what I already knew, he didn't need to say what I already knew. I knew it from the plane. Since his invitation. From his bed above mine. Ever since he took a picture of me sleeping.

He didn't need to say it. We weren't talking about that. It was a new rule. Unfair.

“This can’t end well.”

"As always. Like everything. Endings are never good, that's the tragic thing. And yet, life goes on."

"I wanted to talk to you on this beach. It would have been different if I had."

"We would have fucked like dogs in your hotel room, I would have beaten up your asshole boss sooner, and the world would have burned down on its own. I'm glad you didn't talk to me."

I had sometimes dreamed of another path. I was stupid enough to have hope. Tyler was destroying hope, that was his reason for being, providing total freedom.

I wasn't sure what I was. I still am not today. His heart, maybe. His poor heart.

#fight club #tyler durden #tyler durden x reader #tyler durden fanfiction #tyler durden imagine #tyler durden is a real person

[therealjoejoemamakujo]

TF2 Mercs W/ a Sad Reader but it's My Personal Headcanons

This is very scary.. it's almost like posting an opinion on the internet.

Anyway-

The trilogy

THIS LEANS MORE TOWARDS RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS BECAUSE WELL... THEY'RE MY OWN HEADCANONS.

SCOUT:

Freaking out a little bit

Really depends on how big your meltdown is

He'll might ask if you need anything

"What can I do???"

He'll stay with you and try to cheer you up, but he can be serious about it too if you need him to.

He'd just stay close to you the whole time to make sure you're fine

DEMO:

Will also become upset even if he doesn't know why you're upset

Might just be like "☹️" as you vent because like I said, if you're upset, he's upset (trying so hard to empathize tbh)

He'd probably offer you a drink bc as I've said before, it's what he does when he's upset (it's what he does with anything, though, so..)

Will give you a hug if you need it or ask for it (gives some great ones, full stop)

He'll also stay by your side for support

HEAVY:

Heavy will sit down with you and listen to you talk about whatever's bothering you.

You have his full attention for as long as you need it

Like Demo, he'll hug you, and the hugs are always awesome (no surprise there, I mean look at him)

He'll reassure you that you'll be fine

If he has to work, he'll make sure to check up on you in between jobs

SOLDIER:

He might actually stop talking once he sees that you're genuinely upset

Don't expect complete silence because he will interject with every two words that come out of your mouth

"What?" "Why?" "I don't get it."

He's trying the best he can because he barely understands what people are saying when it's not the national anthem

Still, he will give you (very) rough pat on the head

"'Keep your chin up.' Ghandi said that. >:D"

SNIPER:

A reoccurring theme with him, but he doesn't know what to do

Wants to reach out to you so badly it's not even funny

If he actually does, then he'll just hug you while you cry, or vent, or whatever it is you might do

"You'll be a'right."

Supportiveness all around

Will drag you around with him afterwards because he doesn't wanna let you go yet

PYRO:

They will listen to you quietly, not saying a word as you speak your mind

Once they know you're finished talking, they'll reach out and hug you tightly

Also expect pats on the head

(Sorry y'all, I don't really have anything for Pyro other than this.. can't think of anything)

MEDIC:

No, he will not drop everything for you.

Sounds mean, but he's a very busy man

That being said, he fully invites you to talk to him anyway

He likes listening to you vent about anything and everything

He'll pause work every now and then to ruffle your hair or comment on something, letting you know that he's not dismissing you

If he happens to finish with his work, then he'll drop everything and hold you because he's just been dying to do so

ENGINEER:

Will feel sad to see you upset

He'll try to finish his work as quick as he can so that he can talk and listen to you

He'll put his hand on your arm or thigh and just rub it reassuringly to calm you down

He'd also look you in the eyes the whole time so that you know he's listening (someone get him brown contacts now)

Once your finished speaking, he'll pull you in for a hug and stroke your hair

SPY:

I imagine he would pull you aside if he sees you're upset, not wanting to bring light to it in front of everyone else

He'll then sit you down and listen to you talk (probably after prying it out of you)

Will nod every once in a while to show he's listening, and he'll also make eye contact or at least keep his focus on you the whole time

He'd offer advice on things depending on what you're talking about

Afterwards, he might offer to let you stay with him in his smoking room, just so you can be with him

(Not even sure if I agree with myself on some of these, I sometimes can't remember what I think of them smh)

#team fortress 2 #tf2 mercs #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #tf2 scout #tf2 engineer #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 pyro #tf2 sniper #tf2 soldier #tf2 headcanons

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Aces

Amelia Shepherd x ace!fem!reader Warnings: mostly fluffy but definitely some mentions/discussions of sex, ace representation wooooooo, some explicit language Word Count: 1.1k Summary: You come out as asexual on a date with Amelia, and you're worried about how she'll react. But it turns out that maybe honesty really is the best policy–for both of you.

*Reader & Asexuality. Asexuality is a spectrum! No one person's ace identity is the same as someone else's. If you're ace and don't see yourself represented in the reader's perspective here, just know that your identity is still so valid! It's just impossible to encompass the beautifully wide range of what it means to be ace in one story or one perspective.

"Oh my god," Amelia said, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry."

"No, no, no!" you reassured her, touching Amelia's arm lightly to keep her from pulling away. "I like kissing you. I like you. I think I would probably like more, but... I just– I don't know. I wanted to be up front."

Amelia looked skeptical, no longer the suave, sure woman she'd been moments before.

You tried not to sound desperate. "It doesn't have to mean no sex, I don't think. For me, it just means that I'm mostly, generally uninterested. But not necessarily? God," you cursed. "I feel like I'm fucking this up."

You looked at the ground, trying not to feel panicked. You could count on one hand the number of people you'd been really, truly attracted to in your life. Amelia was one of them. You felt Amelia's hand slip into yours and looked up, equal parts hopeful and afraid.

"I've, uh, never been with someone who's asexual," Amelia said, clearly trying to put both of you at ease.

You returned to your walk on the waterfront, dusk closing in around the two of you.

"I like you, too," Amelia continued nervously. "I mean, I really like you. But I'm very much a sexual person, and I don't want–for either of us–for this to get too far and..."

"Yeah," you replied. "Me too."

"So," Amelia said, smiling and trying to lighten the mood. "You're ace! Tell me about it!"

"Well," you started, thoughts jumbling around in your head. "I like women. Romantically anyway. Sometimes sexually, I guess? I don't really know. I've never..." You paused and blushed. "I've never actually had sex." You shook your head and let out a shaky breath. "Shit, you didn't need to know that. Sorry."

Amelia squeezed your hand. "Don't be sorry."

"Anyway," you continued, scared that if you stopped you wouldn't start again. "I masturbate sometimes so, like, I know I at least enjoy the sensation, but... real life always felt unnecessary, like it was overcomplicating things. There just aren't many people I look at and think, Yeah, I could see myself having sex with them. But I don't know for sure because I've never done it, and I don't want to lead anyone on. And I'm scared because the only other person I've felt that about, well, we were both super religious and it wasn't safe to be out so we weren't out. To anyone or even to ourselves, really. And I always let her take the lead in how far we went because I was so scared that she'd misinterpret anything I did and think I was gay. Of course, I was, but I didn't know that at the time..."

You stopped and looked out across the darkening bay. "I'm sorry," you said, rubbing your forehead. "I'm rambling now. This is probably too much. I'm a lot."

"I'm a lot, too," Amelia commented, playfully jostling your shoulder. "I'm just not as brave and up front about it as you."

You avoided eye contact, sure that if you met Amelia's eyes you'd see what you were dreading: that Amelia was no longer interested, was just a nice person, continuing the date and the conversation out of kindness.

"Hey." Amelia interrupted your thoughts, tapping your hand. "You said the only other person you've thought about sex with."

You stayed quiet.

"Does that mean you've thought about with me?"

You flushed a deep red and stared at the ground. Amelia smirked, finding your embarrassment adorable.

"Hey, there," she said, smiling, bending down in front of your bent head to meet your eyes. Amelia put her hands on either side of your head, pushing your hair behind your ears and lifting your chin.

"Hey," Amelia continued, grinning fully now. "I am one of the two people in the world that Y/N finds attractive. I mean, talk about knowing how to make a girl feel pretty."

You smiled quickly, taking Amelia's hand as you continued your walk.

"And I've thought about it, too," Amelia added. "Just so you know. A lot."

You flushed again and chanced a glance at Amelia who, if anything, seemed more excited and into you than before. You couldn't believe it.

Stopping you with a hand on your wrist, Amelia leaned down and kissed you, running her thumb back and forth along your cheek. When she pulled away, you were dumbstruck.

Amelia searched your eyes, as if she were trying to decipher a foreign language.

"Do you like that?" she asked.

You nodded a little too enthusiastically. "So much, yes."

"So I have a proposition," Amelia said, turning around and wrapping her arm through yours as you turned back.

"Okay," you prompted, savoring the feeling of Amelia so close to you.

"I say we try. I think we should try having sex. Only if you're up for it, of course. And all along the way, you can decide what you like and what you don't. And we can stop at any time. I promise I won't be upset. That way we'll know."

You stumbled through your words. "I'm not... experienced, so–"

Amelia turned to you and raised her eyebrows. "Y/N. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I know what I'm doing. And if you don't enjoy yourself, you can be sure that you would not enjoy having sex with anyone. Because I'm really good."

You ran a hand through your hair, your face reddening, and a smile creeping across your face.

"I'm kind of excited actually."

Amelia jumped and shrieked. "I know, right!? I've never been someone's first! God, I can't wait to blow your fucking mind!" She pulled herself back down to earth and cleared her throat. "Unless you don't want to or you don't like it, which is totally fine. But I really hope you do because you are so hot." She said this last part more to herself than to you.

You smiled at Amelia's happy little dance. You were really, truly excited. Nervous, too. But excited. Riding high on the moment, you put one hand on the side of Amelia's face and wrapped the other arm around the small of her back.

And you kissed her. You kissed her. Your stomach did somersaults as you felt Amelia's hands on your waist, felt Amelia's mouth deepening the kiss. You kept going, surprised at how good Amelia's tongue felt in your mouth, how good it felt to hold the back of her head in your hands.

There was no one around in the dim early night, just you and the wind and the water. Amelia pressed her body into yours, and you could feel the buckle of Amelia's belt pressing into you. Your body took you off guard as you whined into Amelia's mouth, a noise that had never come out of you before. Amelia pulled away, running a hand over her lips and looking smug.

"You like that?" Amelia asked, already knowing the answer. You nodded, panting like a dog. You had never felt like this before. Almost hungry. It scared you a little.

"You want more?"

You surprised yourself by nodding even more vigorously.

"Yeah," you said, breathlessly. "I think I do."

Amelia grinned and bit her lip, taking your hand and leading you away.

"Where are you taking me?" you laughed, face flushed, electricity running between Amelia's hand and yours.

"Bed," Amelia replied, nearly dragging you as she sped to the car.

#amelia shepherd #amelia shepherd x reader #amelia shepherd x ace reader #asexuality #ace pride #ace representation #ace reader #amelia shepherd drabble #amelia shepherd one shot #amelia shepherd fluff #grey's anatomy

[seishuswife]

Three Times Feelings Went Unspoken, and the One Time It Was (Bucky/Reader)

Cross-Posted on my AO3

[Main Masterlist] | [Marvel Masterlist]

Probably my favorite trope, wrote this one so long ago tho!

Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff

++The First Attempt++

Bucky Barnes paced back and forth in his room, rehearsing the words he wanted to say to Y/n, his heart pounding with nerves. He had developed strong feelings for her, but every time he tried to confess, his tongue would tie itself into knots. Tonight was going to be different.

As the team gathered for a casual movie night, Bucky found himself sitting next to Y/n, their shoulders occasionally brushing against each other. Gathering his courage, he turned towards her, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/n, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," he stammered, his palms sweating. But before he could continue, his mind went blank, and his words failed him. Y/n looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue, but all he could manage was a weak smile with a slight shake of his head and turned his attention back to the screen.

++The Second Attempt++

A week passed, and Bucky couldn't stop thinking about his missed opportunity. Determined not to let his nerves get the best of him, he invited Y/n to a quiet coffee shop. As they sat across from each other, sipping their drinks, Bucky took a deep breath.

"Y/n, I... I've been wanting to tell you something," he began, his voice trembling slightly. But once again, his anxiety overpowered him, and he stumbled over his words. Y/n leaned forward, her eyes filled with concern.

"Bucky, take your time. I'm here for you," she reassured him. He managed a small smile, grateful for her understanding, but disappointment weighed heavily on his heart.

++The Third Attempt++

Bucky decided to take a more casual approach for his third attempt. He invited Y/n for a walk in the park, hoping the relaxed setting would ease his nerves. As they strolled together, admiring the scenery, Bucky mustered up his courage:

"Y/n, you know you mean a lot to me, right?" he asked, his voice sounding more confident. Y/n nodded, a gentle smile on her face, encouraging him to continue. However, just as the words were about to leave his lips, his fear gripped him once more, rendering him speechless. Instead, he settled for a sigh, small smile, and yet another slight shake of his head, feeling even more frustrated with himself.

++The Fourth and Final Attempt++

Time passed, and Bucky couldn't escape his feelings for Y/n. He knew he couldn't keep hiding them forever. Seeking advice, he turned to his best friend, who listened patiently.

"Buck, sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith," Steve said, giving Bucky a reassuring pat on the back. Emboldened by his friend's words, Bucky decided it was time to make his final attempt.

He invited Y/n to a quiet rooftop, their favorite spot to watch the city lights. As they sat side by side, Bucky took her hand, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y/n, I've been trying to tell you something for a while now, and I don’t think I can keep it to myself any longer," he confessed, his voice steady and determined.

Y/n's eyes widened with anticipation as she squeezed his hand. "Bucky, what is it?" she asked softly.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky looked into her eyes and finally let his feelings flow. "I'm in love with you, Y/n. You're the most incredible person I've ever known, and I can't imagine my life without you. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I just need to be honest with you."

Silence enveloped them as Y/n processed Bucky's confession. Slowly, a smile crept onto her lips, and she reached out to cup his cheek. "Bucky, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear those words," she whispered, her voice filled with affection. Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat.

"You... You feel the same way?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

Y/n nodded, her eyes shining with joy. "Yes, Bucky. I've been falling for you too, but I was too afraid to say anything. I'm glad you finally did."

Relief and happiness flooded Bucky's heart as he leaned in, capturing Y/n's lips in a tender, long-awaited kiss. In that moment, all the failed attempts and nervousness faded away, replaced by the warmth of their happy love.

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes/reader #bucky/reader #the winter soldier #marvel/reader

[cosmicjoke]

I know you don’t write stuff on here and this isn’t a request more so a question on your thoughts because of something I am writing and I value your analysis of Levi’s character, they have been helpful in the past.

If Levi had a girlfriend, how do you think he would reassure her of his feelings given he’s not the most outwardly affectionate person? Like if she came to him about it.

Hi there, and thank you so much!

You know, I always have a hard time giving out writing advice. I have a difficult time with Levi's characterization myself, just because I like to go dramatic, and I have difficulty sometimes capturing Levi's subtle emotion.

I think that's the thing to remember with Levi, is that he's always going to be very subtle in showing the way he cares. He won't say he cares directly, generally, but he'll show in through action. So if he had a girlfriend, and she was in need of comfort or reassurance of some kind, instead of telling her to chin-up or or even lying and trying to sugarcoat whatever the situation was, Levi would likely rather explain to her that, whether it turned out the way she wanted or not, she still did the best she could, and that's all that matters. If it was directly about his feelings for her, that might be a bit more complex. I think Levi is a more tactile person. So rather than offering reassurance through words, or showing affection through words, he would offer some sort of physical gesture. We see him do this with the dying soldier at the beginning of AoT, when Levi holds his bloody hand. We see him do it with Isabel, when her feelings are hurt over Furlan's teasing, and he ruffles her hair. We see it when he offers Eren a handkerchief for his bloody nose, etc... When he does offer words of affection or appreciation for others, he usually does so by telling them thank you, expressing his gratitude for them in some way. So maybe he would say something to her like "thank you for being here", or "thank you for staying with me", etc...

I think, at the end of the day, for anyone who was going to be involved with Levi romantically, they would have to come to understand that just because he doesn't say certain things directly doesn't mean he doesn't feel those things. Like love, for example. He might not say "I love you", but he'll show that he does by always taking care of someone, by being their protector, etc... I think anyone who's spent any real time around Levi comes to eventually realize that about him. That his actions always tell the tale of how he really feels.

And I feel certain, if he was with someone, and they asked him directly if he loved them, he would answer 'of course', and he would probably say it like it should be obvious, lol. But he wouldn't blow them off, either. He would understand their insecurity, and do his best to make sure they knew that and to help assuage their fears.

#Levi Ackerman #writing #fan fiction #asks

[writeshite]

Can you write homelander x male reader?

Lay All Your Love On Me

Summary:

“You interest me; besides, wouldn’t you like to be on the arm of the world’s best superhero?” he offers, “Anywhere you want - Rome, Paris, Sydney - you name it.” “Wow, not even a first date, and you’re already pulling out the stops,” you quip. He leans close and offers his arm; you take it, “Alright then, flyboy, surprise me.”

Pairings:

Homelander x Male!Reader

Tags:

Supe!Reader | Fluff |

Words: 1398

Author's Note:

I think it'd be funny if Homelander dated Stan Edgar's son, don't ask me why, I just think it'd be. Reader Has Psionic Powers - telepathy, telekinesis, teleportation, precognition, etc. I didn't flesh it out much lmao.

The overhead lights are practically buzzing, and you can feel the headache coming on from a mile away, but Vought’s little mixer is just getting started. Taking a three-day all-nighter was probably the cause of your headache, and it doesn’t help that most of the people here are buzzed enough to have their thoughts up at a high volume. 

“Get back upstairs.” Stan Edgar may be cold, but he’s still a good father, “Your eyes are shining again, and you look five seconds away from passing out.”

You shake your head, “I can handle a few hours of socializing.” He stares you down with concern, but you wave him off, a small smile on your face, “I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. He reluctantly leaves you when he’s called away by Madelyn, “Three more hours,” you whisper to yourself. You’ve opted out of drinking wine, but the water’s not doing much to help. Your vision’s not hazy yet, but you have a hard time with it; you're clenching your eyes tightly, lightly smacking the side of your head to drown out the minds around you. One of them is louder than the others, and it comes corralling right into you. Your glass gets caught by the other person, and you take a moment to ground yourself, holding onto the other person’s arms.

You hear the annoyance and confusion in their voice before you feel it, “Sorry, I…uh…I didn’t see you there…” you apologize, and glancing up, you find yourself looking into the Homelander’s eyes. He looks confused as if trying to place you. You back away but keep a hold on him when your vision swims again.

“No problem,” he says, with a dashing smile, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

You put on a weak smile, “I come around every now and then, my father works for Vought…and I help out…with a few things sometimes.”

He hmmed, then a worried look crossed his face; unfortunately, you didn’t get a chance to ask why before you lost consciousness. Not exactly the best conversation starter. When you came to the first time, it was to loud buzzing; you’d curled into yourself, the arms around you held you close, but the voices just muffled into one another. The next time was shorter and ten times louder; the third time was really the charm. A doctor was chatting away with your father; Homelander was far off to the side, hands behind his back; thankfully, the lights in the room were dimmer, and you were no doubt far enough from the party. When you sit up, you get the others’ attention; Stan's the first to approach you, kneeling by the couch with his infamous I told you so look. 

“Yeah, yeah, you were right,” you say, pulling a face at him when he shakes his head.

“Hopefully, this will teach you the importance of sleep,” he lectures you, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank you, John.” You snicker at how displeased he sounds to be thanking Homelander, “I’m grateful someone of your caliber was around to help my son.”

“Of course, no problem,” he replies, “I never did catch your name,” Homelander points out, looking over to you.

“You don’t need to,” Stan cut the conversation, dismissing Homelander.

“You could’ve been nicer; he did help me out,” you comment, watching the hero walk away.

“I’d rather take out my tongue and strangle myself with it,” he remarks.

“Dramatic, aren’t we?”

“You don’t have to clean up his messes,” he states, “he and the rest of the seven aren’t as pleasant as the public loves to think.”

“Oh? But he is cute, in a murderous puppy sort of way,” you say, laying back again.

Stan shakes his head, “Your taste in men concerns me at times.”

In all seriousness, Homelander was interesting; even having returned to the party, you could still hear his thoughts from your place on the couch. They were mostly loud and unpleasant, directed towards the people around him as they did nothing more than bore him - or in the case of the poor Vought employee who he’s currently speaking to, annoy him. You could practically feel the god-complex, but on another level, he was attractive, in his own murderous way, which really must say something about you.

Between bed rest and everything else, you don’t have Homelander at the forefront of your mind; aside from your meeting, you don’t see him again until the next Vought party. A Sidekick Extravaganza - the Seven and all of Vought’s other assets get a chance to meet and inspire their younger fans - unlike the previous party, this one takes place during the day and is held in the nearby parks, with each supe getting their own section. You mingle between the Seven, watching the events from afar, it’s not terribly boring, but you find more fun in the thoughts of the others around you. 

When you’re not eavesdropping on minds, you’re setting off harmless little pranks - a bench topples over here and there - nothing major. “Nice trick.”

You turn to find Homelander standing by you, arms behind his back; you shrug, “It’s better than watching the Deep try and stop kids from eating his fishy friends.” He snickers, “I never got a chance to thank you,” you say, “for the other night, sorry about my father.”

“Father…Stan Edgar, is…your father?” He runs through the question a few times as his mind takes the time to process the information. ‘Edgar has children?’

“Yes, two, in fact, though really we’re adopted.”

He steps back, ‘How did he—no, can he read minds?’ 

You nod, a grin on your face, “Yes, I can read minds.” He leans forward, slightly intrigued.

‘Can you actually read minds, or are you just fucking with me?’ 

‘I can do a whole lot more than that,’ you say in mind; his eyes widen at hearing your voice inside his head.

“Ok, not bad,” he commends, stepping close. There’s a crash then as one of his sidekicks knocks something over, “Excuse me, be right back,” he says. 

You go back to watching the events all around; by noon, the sun is out in full force, and you sigh in relief when it all ends. You’re almost out of the park when Homelander finds you again, landing beside you; his arm comes around your shoulder, “Where are you going? Our conversation’s not over yet,” he states.

“It’s hot, it’s noon, and I’m hungry–”

“I’ll buy you lunch then,” he cuts in.

“All for a conversation?” you tease.

“You interest me; besides, wouldn’t you like to be on the arm of the world’s best superhero?” he asks, “Anywhere you want - Rome, Paris, Sydney - you name it.”

“Wow, not even a first date, and you’re already pulling out the stops,” you quip. He leans close and offers his arm; you take it, “Alright then, flyboy, surprise me.”

He takes you to Lucerne, Switzerland, nestled between the alps; it’s almost like a hideaway, flourishing with medieval charm. Though it’s early evening when you get there, lunch turned dinner is still lovely, and Homelander grills you with questions on your powers. “See that waiter over there,” you point out; he nods, leaning over the table, “he’s thinking about stealing from the register tomorrow night.”

“The lady over by the back,” you say, “she’s been staring at you since you sat down,” you take a bite of your dessert, “and…oh, well, that’s not a PG-rated thought.”

“How far’s your range?” he asks, but you shrug; you’ve never gone as far as testing something like that, “Doesn’t Edgar make you train or something?”

“Not really; I don’t do combat like you or the rest of the Seven,” you respond, “I’m a therapist, but I’m on a break; seeing into people’s heads tends to get overwhelming in the profession.” You leave the restaurant and walk along the bridge; it’s well past regular hours in Switzerland; when you return home, the sun is nearly set. “Thanks for the food and the not date,” you say. The park may be emptier now, but you can feel the glare Stan is no doubt sending Homelander from the entrance.

“Any chance I can charm an actual date out of you?”

“Why Homelander—” you gawk in mock surprise.

“John,” he corrects, “Call me John.”

“Alright then, John, you’ve got yourself a date.”

End Note:

One day I will write something darker for Homelander, until then, stay hydrated.

#homelander x male reader #homelander x reader #the boys imagine #shiterequests