#which is not how you want a climatic moment to feel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 6 months

Text

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

“can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

hehe the end

taglist

had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3

6K notes · View notes

violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months

Text

Bolinus brandaris [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

and by public demand, part. 2

summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.

"Everyone ready to go back?" Gideon asked, taking a quick look at the jet to make sure all of you were there. You had an extortion case quite far from home, Miami to be exact, and you had a long flight back to Quantico, so the last thing he wanted was to forget someone.

Miami was a beautiful place that you would have liked to visit in other circumstances, that had nothing to do with crimes at all, since you had always felt a certain weakness for the warm climate, the sticky breeze, and the sound of the waves that were on the beach.

You had only had the chance to go to a mall to buy a new outfit, because yours had been completely ruined, while Morgan took advantage of the wait to buy an ice cream popsicle. It hadn't been a dream ride, but it was something at least.

“I feel like I could sleep for 90 hours straight,” you sighed, closing your eyes and falling into Spencer's side as usual. You two were the youngest, he was younger than you of course, so it was easier to connect with him than the other members of the team. You seemed to have similar interests and he was strangely comfortable with you.

“You would actually need to wake up periodically to expel fluids or you would risk bursting your bladder or even your bowels, because even though your digestive system shuts down when you sleep it only does so for a certain number of hours. Maybe you could sleep for 14 or 17 hours, which is what a baby sleeps, but 90 seems excessive to me even if you do not consume drinks or food before doing so”

"It's an expression, Reid" you laughed, but without the intention of making him feel bad for having answered you that way. Sometimes it was necessary to explain to him that you weren't being serious, as obvious as this seemed.

"You can sleep through the whole trip" he argued and although you still had your eyes closed you assumed that he had shrugged "I'll wake you up if you start snoring"

"I don't snore!" you defended yourself, playfully smacking him on the arm and hearing him laugh. Somehow watching him led you to remember a chain of events ending in the package you had carefully stowed in your bag and you almost jumped out of your seat the next second: "Wait, I just remembered something" you reported and went to the baggage area to rummage through your suitcase, taking just a few minutes to be back in your seat “I bought you this”

"Me?" he asked in disbelief. The others were on their own business enough to notice your conversation, making the moment a bit more private.

“I looked at it and just thought of you. Although I don't know if you're going to like it” you said shyly, handing him something wrapped in a paper bag with a store sticker on it. You had found the gift when you went shopping for your clean outfit and a part of you had been anxious all day to be able to give it to him to watch his reaction.

Reid looked at it curiously and handled it carefully, as if he were afraid it would fall apart in his fingers, until he managed to open it and took a piece of cloth from it.

"A scarf?"

“I saw you in one the other day and I thought you might like them. You know, you always wear your vests under your coats and your ties and you're always overdressed, but in a cute way” you laughed, while you pointed your hands at your body pretending to touch the pieces of his outfit "But it's okay if you don't want to wear it"

"No! I mean yes. I want to use it” he reassured you. Spencer held it out to look at it more carefully: it was purple, a stripe in the middle of patterned colored rhombuses intertwined with some embroidery of branches with leaves in black. "Did you know that the color purple is related to royalty because of how difficult it was to obtain the pigment before the Christian era? It is obvious that artificial dyes didn’t exist at that time, so everything they dyed the fabrics with had to be obtained from nature and that particular tone was quite difficult to obtain because it came from Bolinus brandaris, an extremely rare species of sea snail. To obtain 1 gram of this substance it is necessary to have 10,000 snails. And that gram was barely enough to dye a small piece. Its value and the difficulty in mass-producing it is due to the fact that the substance obtained had to be left to dry in the sun for a very precise time to be used later. Half a kilo of wool dyed in that color cost what would now be equivalent to around 300,000 euros,” he said, still holding the scarf as he rambled on. "It is also related to liturgical attire, it symbolizes power, wisdom, and is the perfect combination between the energy of red and the calm of blue”

“Oh yeah, I… I knew all that before I bought it, I didn't choose it just because I think purple brings out your eyes” you blatantly lied, making your friend laugh tenderly.

“What I meant to say is that I like it” he added, a little embarrassed by the smile and attention with which you had been observing him. You always did that when he wandered off, leaving him helpless and not knowing how to react.

"You said it has to do with wisdom, right?" you exclaimed and he nodded gently "Do you think there's some weird psychological reason why my brain knew that and linked it to you or was it just a coincidence?"

"Well, it's hard to explain..." he began to say, turning a little in his seat to be closer to you and begin a long explanation about the connections that our brain creates with things and people.

You were completely exhausted but you didn't have the heart to stop him from saying anything he had to say and you listened intently as much as your body would allow, until eventually you were lulled to sleep by the sound of Spencer's soft voice. When he stopped hearing your hums he realized that you had already fallen asleep and he moved your body carefully until you were completely reclining on the chair, so that when you woke up the physical pain of sleeping on the plane would be less. He, for his part, stayed in the seat next to you sheltered your rest, and at some point ended up asleep too.

The day after she came back from Miami, Spencer was already wearing the scarf you gave him. He had matched it with a brown coat, a vest in a darker shade of purple than the scarf, and a white shirt that together made him look perfect. Also, his well-brushed straight hair fell to the side and his tanned skin looked particularly clean.

You didn’t need to tell him anything because the smile you gave him when you looked him up and down was reason enough for him to be flattered and also proud to receive your approval. All day you watched him, a bit for the garment and a bit for the very pleasure of admiring him, and you noticed that he frequently checked that everything about him looked good, as if he was trying to impress you. Every time he spoke he avoided looking at you, only at you, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.

The day after that he used it too and the next day and the next, to the point where it was strange to see him go anywhere without it, as if it had become a part of him. After a week, while they waited in the boardroom, Elle finally had the courage to face the situation and ask Spencer why the particular choice for something for everyday use.

"It's that his girlfriend gave it to him" answered Morgan, before the brunette could say anything.

"What? No! Y/N is not my girlfriend” he said, completely embarrassed and making sure with his eyes that you weren't around to hear that.

"Oh, now I understand" JJ joined the conversation.

"You understand what?"

“You are always taking care that it doesn’t get dirty or stained”

"Yes, I don't like my clothes to get ruined"

"But more so if it's something his girlfriend gave him" insisted Morgan and in a fit that no one expected Spencer took a ball of paper and threw it at his face. That just got a collective laugh.

"I just like it. That's all”

"We all know you like her, Reid," added Hotch, who had kept quiet thus far and didn't even look up from the files. He flushed red to the ears as the rest of the team shared another laugh, and just seconds later you and Gideon walked through the door.

"Good morning"

"Good morning" answered the others, like school children before the arrival of a teacher. There was one seat left next to Morgan that Gideon took and that forced you into the only remaining chair between Elle and Spencer.

“Did I miss something interesting?” you murmured, leaning into him and smiling close to his face.

"No" he replied kindly, feeling your gaze drop from his eyes.

"Your scarf," you said, reaching out your hands to move it a little around his neck "It was out of place"

Everyone else, except for Gideon, shared knowing glances and stifled giggles as they watched the nervous way he thanked you. It didn't help too much that for the entire meeting you were completely distracted looking at your partner next to you, making the whole team wonder when the two of you were finally going to end up kissing.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía

4K notes · View notes

thatwritergirlsblog · 1 year

Text

10 worst ways to start a book

1. An irrelevant point of view

It's extremely frustrating as a reader to read the opening scene of a novel, get invested in the story and start rooting for the POV character, only to have that character never show up again or show up as an unimportant character.

Your readers will feel betrayed. Why did they get emotionally invested in this character? Why did they care?

One of the most important functions of your first scene or chapter is introducing your main character and getting the reader to root for them.

Don’t waste that crucial moment on an unimportant POV.

2. Too many characters

Starting to read a new book is usually a bit confusing. You have to get to know new characters, a new world, a new writing style etc.

Don’t add to that confusion by introducing two dozen characters in the opening scene. Readers won’t remember their names or care about them; they’ll just feel overwhelmed and confused.

Additionally, readers will also struggle to root for the main character, because there are too many other people crowding the scene.

3. Telling

My name is Lisa. I’m a short, feisty brunette who loves horse riding. I have two best friends called Anna and Daniel, and we carpool to college every day. I have a crush on Josh, one of my tutors, but he’s twenty-seven and isn’t interested in me.

Telling is boring. It has its place, but the start of your novel is not it. The above paragraph could have been an interesting scene in which you showed the reader all the information via action and dialogue.

Unless you’re using subversion to surprise the reader, e.g., My name is Lisa and I’m a class-three demon, don’t start with telling.

Immerse the reader in the story through action, dialogue and the senses. Show us who the main character is, don’t just tell us.

4. Description

Please don’t start your book with a page-long description of the setting. In fact, I would recommend not starting with description at all.

Yes, a few lines of description later in the opening scene is fine. But the reader needs to care first.

No matter how beautiful your writing is, readers won’t be sucked in by a five-paragraph description of a field.

5. Worldbuilding info dump

Please don’t start your book with an explanation of your world’s climate, politics, history, magic system etc.

Once again, the reader needs to care first.

There needs to be action and conflict and a compelling plot. The world exists as a backdrop for the story and the characters – it’s not the protagonist and it shouldn’t take up the opening scene.

6. The dream sequence

The main reason that this is a bad way to start your book is that it’s been done way too many times.

But that’s not the only reason.

It also feels like a betrayal to the reader, because they got invested in the story and the character and the events, and then you tell them it was never real.

And oftentimes the storyline and world of the dream is much more interesting than the actual story, which makes the latter look very boring in comparison.

7. Looking in a mirror

Once again, it’s just been done too much: A character looking in a mirror and describing their physical appearance to the reader.

Firstly, no one describes their appearance in detail when they look in the mirror.

Secondly, the reader doesn’t even know who this person is. We don’t know if we’re interested in the character yet. We don’t know why we should care. So, we don’t want a detailed description of the character’s appearance right off the bat.

Show us interesting aspects of your main character’s personality, hobbies and life. Weave in physical description as it becomes relevant. It’s not important enough for the very first paragraph.

8. Starting way too early

Yes, most books don’t start with the inciting incident (although I recommend that they do), but the start of your book shouldn’t be too far away from your inciting incident.

So, don’t start with a long scene describing the main character’s everyday life. The readers want the thing to happen.

Providing context and introducing the main character is fine, but don’t leave the reader hanging for too long before you get to the good stuff.

9. Trying too hard

“Your first line has to be amazing and hook the reader. It needs to be something no one has ever read before.”

I bet you’ve heard that piece of advice hundreds of times. It’s not bad advice, but taken to the extreme, it creates an opening that is disjointed, conflated and confusing.

Your first scene should introduce your character, story and voice. So, don’t write a single line of profound purple prose that has very little to do with your actual story as a first line.

Focus on writing a good story. Introduce the reader to the book and make the main character intriguing. You don’t need a mind-blowing first line.

10. The lesson

Most books have a theme or something the author wants to say. Oftentimes, that takes the form of a life lesson.

This is good, but the lesson needs to be subtly woven into the story.

It should not be forced down the reader’s throat in the very first scene.

Don’t tell me what I’m going to learn, show me the lesson through the story.

If you’d like to read a Fantasy Adventure novel that does not have any of these opening mistakes, check out my debut To Wear A Crown.

Reblog if you found this post useful. Comment with your own tips for writing a good opening scene. Follow for similar content.

#writing #writer #writers #writing advice #writeblr #write #Writing tips

2K notes · View notes

bucky-barnes-diaries · 5 months

Text

Day 1 — First Snow

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 900

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Mild Smut — mild explicit language, mention of sex.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Advent Calendar Masterlist

You wake up in Bucky’s embrace, feeling warm and content, snuggling further into his comforting heat and skin. Your eyes flutter open and lock onto his peaceful sleeping form, his calming features illuminated by the soft morning light. His gentle snores provide a soothing soundtrack to your serene moment. You can’t help but admire the beauty of his peaceful slumber, your finger tracing mindless patterns on his bare chest, memorizing and cherishing every imperfection that makes him unique.

Your moment of peace is abruptly interrupted as you catch sight of white flakes cascading outside the window.

You gasp and startle awake, causing Bucky to jolt into alertness, ready to defend you against a potential intruder. His hand reaches for the bedside drawer, retrieving his knife, but you roll over him, knocking the wind out of him.

“Bucky! Bucky, look!” You exclaim with childlike enthusiasm as you hop out of bed and rush to the window. Pressing your hands against the glass, you watch the fluffy snowflakes transform the world into a magical winter wonderland. “It’s snowing! It’s so beautiful! We have to go outside and explore!”

Your excitement halts when a pair of solid arms envelop you and gently pulls you back to the warmth of the bed, softly tossing you down on the covers. Bucky wraps all his limbs around your body, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Bucky, come on,” you giggle, wiggling in his embrace. “It’s snowing, and I want to go outside and explore with you.”

“But I want to cuddle,” he playfully whines. “You’re so warm and soft, doll, and it’s cold outside. Let’s snuggle in bed all day and kiss and fuck,” he adds with a soft groan, peppering your skin with light kisses.

You manage to turn in his tight embrace, coming face to face with him. “Hmm, I want that too,” you purr, nuzzling his nose and giving him a sweet kiss. “But I also want to enjoy the snow. Please,” you pout, giving him your best puppy eyes, which makes him shake his head and smile in surrender. “I can’t resist when you’re being so cute, and the snow does sound like fun.”

“And I promise we can cuddle, kiss and fuck all night long in front of the fireplace.”

“Deal,” he mutters, attacking your face with warm kisses.

After a few more minutes of cuddling and sharing sweet kisses, you and Bucky get out of bed, ready to embrace the magical winter wonderland. Dressed in cozy winter attire, complete with coats, boots, scarves, hats, and mittens, you and Bucky prepare to face the cold climate.

Bucky takes special care to ensure your hat and scarf are snugly in place, protecting you from negative temperatures. “We don’t want you getting sick, doll. Even though I love caring for you, I know how much you hate being sick.”

Standing on your tiptoes, you cup Bucky’s face with your fluffy mittens and give him a sweet kiss. “Thank you for always looking out for me.”

“Always. Now, let’s go out and enjoy ourselves.”

Hand in hand, you ventured into the streets, relishing the sight of fresh snow covering the world like a soft white blanket. The sound of snow crunching underneath your boots is a satisfying soundtrack, and the bustling crowds of people are a pleasant sight. Some were in a rush, trying to get from A to B as quickly as possible, their annoyance about the snow and cold evident on their faces.

Couples, like you two, were out enjoying the winter wonderland, hand in hand, radiating love and contentment, unbothered by the snow and cold, but instead embracing it.

Children seem to have the most fun, playing in the snow, building snowmen, making snow angels, and engaging in epic snowball battles.

With a content sigh, you leaned your head against Bucky’s shoulder, wrapping your other hand around his bicep as you walked. “I love this, Bucky. Winter and snow. I know most people dislike it, but for me, it truly is the most wonderful time of the year.”

He smiles against your knitted hat before lingering a warm kiss on your icy cheek. “Me too, doll,” he murmurs against your skin, stopping you both in your tracks. He pulls you flush against his body, his gloved hands framing your face, providing warmth against the cold. His blue eyes gaze deeply into yours, warming you from the inside, his words making your heart race. “But for me, you are the one who makes it the most wonderful and magical time of the year.”

You release a shaky breath as he leans down to kiss you with passion and determination, sealing those heartfelt words into your soul and lips. You wrap your arms around his waist, clinging to him, and the cold could never compare to the shivers he sends down your spine.

“Please, take me home and make love to me,” you purr, pulling away from the heated kiss. Your desire for him shadows the previous allure of snow and exploration.

“Already?” he smirks, nuzzling your cold nose. “I thought you were eager to explore the first snow of December?”

“We’ve seen enough for now. Besides, there will be plenty of snow this month, but right now, all I want is to feel your warm, naked body against mine as we fuck in front of the fireplace.”

He takes your hand and turns you around, heading back home. “Then let’s do just that, doll.”

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

I don’t do taglists so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

428 notes · View notes

books-and-omens · 9 months

Text

Okay okay, so I really want to talk about S2 Crowley.

I’ve been thinking about who Crowley is in the book and who he is in the show, and the gap is significant. (@tbutchaziraphale has fantastic meta over here which I think is spot on.)

Book!Crowley is an optimist, yes? I mean, we’re outright told this:

“Because, underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist. If there was one rock-hard certainty that had sustained him through the bad times—he thought briefly of the fourteenth century—then it was utter surety that he would come out on top; that the universe would look after him.”

Honestly, what a thing for a fallen angel to believe! And to me, it’s powerful, yes, but it never quite answers the question: where is he getting that certainty?

Tv!Crowley, in the meantime, is emphatically not this. He’s never been an optimist, not even in S1—although in S1, it might have been easier to look at A & C and consider them essentially similar to their book selves if a little out of sync.

In S1, Crowley gives the whole “don’t test them to destruction” speech. He cares about humanity deeply, even if he won’t admit it. He will try to stop the Apocalypse.

And there is still a moment when he feels helpless. When he has no innate optimism to carry him through, no deep belief in the universe looking after him or anyone. When his instincts tell him to run, and he tries to follow them. When he despairs. Aziraphale pulls him back out of that despair; they make a stand together. As we know, it works.

But the thing is, the thing is. I find tv!Crowley’s lack of optimism so very relatable.

I find despair so very relatable, too.

We live in an age of deep anxiety. (Climate change, anyone? Just for starters! The promise and wonder of the Moon landing and the end of the Cold War are far in the past; day to day, we deal with the effects of capitalism, of reactionism, of continued exclusionism. It’s far too easy to feel helpless.)

So in S2, Crowley is very much the same character as he was in S1, except we see it even clearer.

He is not an optimist. He wants to run; he wants to escape when faced with Gabriel’s arrival; he wants to protect Aziraphale and himself, and believes that the best—perhaps only—way to do that is by them retreating as far away from the problem as they can.

In Heaven, Crowley finds out about The Second Coming. His need to escape and to keep his angel safe become overwhelming. But he doesn’t tell Aziraphale about the Second Coming, does he? And his repeated offer to run away together doesn't even make sense to Aziraphale. (Not that Aziraphale would want to run if he knew. Quite the opposite, in fact, which Crowley must know.)

Anyway, Crowley already knows that the clock is ticking. Aziraphale is about to find it out. (Do you notice how often, in the last fifteen minutes of S2, we hear nothing in the background but the ticking of a clock?)

And just—the despair, the desire to retreat and escape when you are faced with overwhelming odds, with a fundamentally broken system, are so relatable.

And yet escape has never been the answer.

I hope, of course, that this is what we’ll see in S3 if there is a S3. Crowley deciding, emphatically, that running away is not the answer.

We didn't get there yet. We were dropped out of the story at the darkest point.

But I think being at this point is precisely what makes Crowley’s confession at the end of S2 transcendent.

Because it’s the same conflict, isn’t it, except on a personal scale. Despair in the face of overwhelming odds, followed by the decision to not give up.

Crowley, who’d been ready to confess, sees what is likely to happen. He sees the way the deck is stacked against him, sees that he is unlikely to get through. He feels the coming loss.

And then he does it anyway.

He confesses anyway. He says what he has set out to say, gasping and clawing for every word. He does it at the point when everything appears lost.

And no, we don’t see the effects of it, not yet. We don’t see what he has launched, the hook that sank into Aziraphale, the change it has wrought in Crowley himself.

But his bravery won’t be lost.

We live in a dark timeline. I maintain that this is precisely what makes this story so compelling.

Be brave. Do the difficult thing anyway. Do it anyway. Do it anyway.

Even in the face of overwhelming odds. Especially in the face of overwhelming odds. While not being an optimist in the slightest.

This is what hope is.

This is what we have to do.

(And to all of us who’d lost a comfort story: I’m so sorry. I, too, am still grieving for it. I know, I know.

Emphatically: all is not lost.)

#good omens #good omens season 2

986 notes · View notes

whereireid · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇 — based on this ask | masterlist

pairing: miles quaritch x fem!reader

Summary: What Colonel Quaritch misses most about planet Earth are the woman. Luckily, you're a human whose more than eager to please to your superior.

— warnings: interspecies relationship ! nsfw content MDNI: tit fucking, imbalance of power, ruts

There is nothing that Colonel Quartich misses about Earth.

Nothing but the women.

Pandora is beautiful. A world with extravagant wildlife, the nature of the planet so beautiful and blue, with specks of lilac purple and lavender hues. It's foolish to not be in awe of such beauty, and Quaritch is no fool. He is in awe of everything that Pandora has to offer.

Except the women.

The women of Pandora. The Na'vi, and the Avatars, made of carbon fibre — body hard, rigid and strong, conditioned to survive the difficult climate. Though beautiful, with specks of Aqua blue and long, delicate limbs, they're not plush. There's nothing soft about the women of Pandora.

Quaritch wishes that he could be attracted to them. Especially since a perk of being an Avatar now means he suffers through a rut — a period where he literally gets so horny that the only way to cure his arousal is to fuck something.

Anything.

Even when in a rut, though, he can't bring himself to do it. His hands will linger on an Avatar, falling on their skin, which is hard and rough, and every feeling of arousal will disappear.

Quaritch needs relief. Desperately. His hand isn't enough anymore — it just leaves him with more frustration than before he even tried.

So, when he spots you, it feels like fate.

You're a scientist, a newbie, with pinned-up hair, two curls crusading down the sides of your face, a soft smile on your lips. A soft smile, which meets your eyes and has the corners crinkling. His eyes fall, tracing your body with his eyes, and he realises that he's found exactly what he's been looking for.

Quaritch waits, and watches. He's not sure when the right time to approach even is. He's been out of the game for a long time, now — the women of Pandora don't need charisma. They're easily pleased.

So, when you approach Quaritch, he's incredibly thankful.

"Colonel," you squeak, staring up at your superior officer, your small frame practically trembling beneath him. "I was asked by some of the other members of the science team, to ask you if on your next mission to the forests of Pandora, if — if you could bring back some fresh fruit."

He blinks down at you. Once, twice. You shuffle on your feet, neck craned in an impossibly awkward position to be able to see him. You're smiling, and it doesn't waver. Not even when he scowls, and grunts, "I can."

"You — you can?"

"Do you make your other superior officers repeat themselves?" Quaritch asks, trying to ignore the discomfort in his pants when your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"No, Colonel."

"I didn't think so." He kisses his teeth, tongue darting over his fangs. "I can get you the fruit, but only if you can do something for me."

"Anything."

Quaritch smiles.

That's how he manages to sort his issues out.

You're so delicate that it drives him crazy. All sense of dignity was abandoned long ago, when he'd first made his proposal — how could you say no to somebody whose so desperate for relief? Perhaps you are, too, with your crush on the Colonel consuming you, day-in, day-out.

"You're so soft," he says, his voice so low that it sounds like he's growling. His fingers toy with your nipples, rolling the buds between his fingers, watching as your breath hitches as he does so. "Sunshine, you have got no fuckin' idea how hard you make me."

"Show me," you whisper, voice sultry and seductive, tensing as he fingers pinch at your nipples gently.

There's nothing more perfect than you. In that moment, every issue of Quaritch's erodes away. He's got you exactly where he wants you — on your knees, your tits pushed together as much as they possibly can be, his cock sheathed between them.

"That hurt, sunshine? Squeezin' 'em so tight just to please me?"

You nod your head, your lips drawn between your teeth, your eyebrows crinkled in concentration. His cock is all lubed up, making it that much more slippery. It's so soft, so plush, your tits so perfect and round. So big, on human standards, but so small in comparison to his cock.

Holy shit, you're perfect.

You let him use your tits like you're a fuck-doll. Quaritch fucks into you, rolling his hips into your tits, groaning as the squelching sounds of the lube clap around his office. They bounce, they jiggle, they take him so well, and your eyes are so focused and you're pushing your tits together so hard, just so he can get a good grip.

It makes his orgasm that much better. His cock twitches, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. There's a heat which pools in his lower belly as he finishes, painting your chest with his cum, some shooting onto your chin and lips.

You're such a pretty mess. Quaritch collects his cum from your face, pushing it between your lips, and you suck, and he groans. His cock is still nestled between your tits, basking in the softness of you, the pillow-like cushion of your flesh.

He's going to have to do this again.

2K notes · View notes

maopll · 9 months

Note

Could I request headcanons of Dan Heng, Blade, Gepard and Samp being called a term of endearment (like sweetie or honey) from their s/o?

—MY LOVE, MY LIFE : #honkai star rail

⌗:, a/n: they deserve princess treatment cause they r so baby girl (but I don't like sampo)

⌗:, warning: none just men who r baby girl material

⌗:, pairings: dan heng, gepard, blade & sampo w/ gn!reader (separately)

DAN HENG —

Sweet endearments like dear, sweetheart, honey are all enough to make him swoon for you. He does not mind you calling anything. He knows the words you call him with are from the depths of you heart. The way your lips would would curl when you would them and how your voice goes high and then low whenever you call him with adoration.

It was late in the Astral Express. Dan heng, your lover, being the authority of the data bank, was busy learning about the species that you would encounter on your next mission. You saw him from the corner of your drowsy eyes. He only had a small lamp near him to help him read. "Dear, it's quite late at night. Why don't you come and sleep?" You called out. He looked at you and said, "Just five more minutes, babe, I will be right back," ignoring his words, and you slithered your way to his lap. You hugged him and locked your arms around his neck. "I was unable to sleep because of your absence, honey,". Knowing that he wouldn't be able to fight back, but your warmth was making him even more drowsy. Calling it a day, he laid you on your shared bed and kissed you a good night sleep.

GEPARD LANDAU —

The Silvermane Guard Captian, although holding more authorities than a normal citizen of Belobog, is a soft guy throughout. Praises and endearments like good boy, my hero, Prince charming work wonders on him. The way his face would go bright red is a sight to see.

After a long day of work, returning to home is the best feeling. Especially when you are there. You greet him with a soft smile, a warm hug, and a sweet "welcome home my prince," contrary to the bitter and harsh cold climate of Belobog. He nuzzles his face in your neck, inhaling the scent of oak and lavender you emit, which makes him sleepy. He wishes days like these would frequent him more. Although he has many responsibilities but when he is with you he wants to run away from them. However for now he likes these fleeting moments better as he finishes your sentence with a tone filled with adoration saying "I'm home my dear."

BLADE —

The emotionless and stone cold Blade never found amusement in anything, but when you came into his life after a chance encounter, his views of the world changed. He found solace in your company and amusement in the words mortals use, which he finds quite unnecessary since he has a name, but he can't deny the way he feels whenever you call him darling.

It was raining a lot at the place your hideout is. The streets were filled with rainwater, and the pitter patter accompanied by the roaring thunder seemed to grow louder by the second. You were snuggling in his arms since the day was a bit cold. You noticed how distant he looked as if he was thinking about many things. "What are you thinking about, darling ?" Your use of the endearment snapped him out of his thoughts. He told you that it was nothing that you should be worried about. Knowing you wouldn't be able to get the information you want from him you slid onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Alright then since you don't want to tell me I won't ask too much baby". You suddenly started to shower his face with your kisses. The room which had turned cold and only the sound of rain could be heard now resonates with laughter filled with adoration and warmth.

SAMPO KOSKI —

He knew he had an aura, which many found annoying. As a result, he believed that nobody would find him attractive or likeable, but you were different. Although you did admit to him one day that he might get a little clumsy at times but you liked his silly little attitude by saying "oh you're just a silly little guy babe" and oh what that endearment did to him. His cheeks bloomed full red like fresh ripe strawberries. Ever since then, he would ask you to call him by whatever nicknames you wish for.

Usual day in both of your lives. Trying to not get caught by Silvermane Guards as they chase both of you together. Hastily opening up a portal using your ability, you escape the chase. By now, you have gotten enough experience to know where to land and when to open up the portal. "Another successful escape! goodness I was worried about my client's goods" he sighed to you "It's only a success when it's me bro you've got caught more than 4 times if I'm not wrong" you told him panting and sweating. "I know, I know ! that's why I always take you with me, dear. ". "Yeah, yeah, I know, babe, let's go home. I wanna sleep so ba—" abruptly hoisting you up in his muscular arms, he proceeded to walk towards the desired destination "Oh come on I know you can never be so feisty when I'm around" you know you cannot argue with him too much since he always has a thing or two to counter your statement with so chuckling at his childlike behaviour you kissed him on the cheek. What an eventful day it was...

769 notes · View notes

tfmybody · 4 months

Text

Immigrants

Sometimes people are hypocrites. And when they are I like to take a moment and fix it. Take Rob for example, like many Brits he was living in Spain enjoying a warmer climate and a different lifestyle than he would get back home.

That's totally fine, except he had some pretty interesting views about immigrants and how they should go back to where they came from, which was funny coming from an immigrant himself. So I helped him so that he wouldn't be considered a hypocrite any more. Did you think I was going to change his opinions? No, I'm planning something more fun.

Rob is an active guy, he enjoys hiking a lot. So during his next hike I seized the opportunity to swap him into the body of a local called Alex. One moment he was leaning on a rock taking in the view below him, the next he was looking down at a pair of feet that he was sure didn't belong to him.

Rob's mind was racing. What had happened? Where was he? Why was he wearing different clothes? Suddenly he heard someone yelling at him in Spanish, he understood perfectly what was being said which was new for him. His body began to move without him realizing. It through itself into a workout routine that Rob did not know and no matter how hard Rob tried he couldn't stop himself from doing it.

An hour later the workout was over and he headed towards what he somehow knew where the changing rooms. By now he had resigned himself to being forced to follow this bodies routine. As he entered the changing rooms he passed a mirror and caught a look at himself.

He was totally different. His skin was more tanned, his hair much longer and more styled, like his new moustache. His looked shorter than he did before, his skin smoother as if he took better care of it. His hand slipped into his pocket pulling out a phone. Rob typed in the passcode without thinking and took a quick picture which he uploaded to his new instagram account. He watched as comments in Spanish from guys rolled in calling him hot and cute. In his mind he was horrified, as a straight dude why was he getting all this attention from men, but there was also apart of him which was starting to enjoy it, just like his body did too.

As he continued to the shower he explored his new body more closely. Feeling his new body, the muscles, the body hair, every inch. Rob couldn't tell anymore if this was the body leading him, or him controlling the body. But it felt good now either way. Stepping out of the shower he got to see his near naked body.

He grabbed his phone and took another picture, except this time he opened up Grindr and added the photo to his profile. Seeing all the other profiles on his screen made him get hard. Rob was no longer fighting it, his new body wanted it, and so did he now. Any trace of being straight erased from his mind.

He quickly got dressed ready to get on with his day. He looked down again seeing the outfit he was now wearing. It was like nothing he would typically wear, but now he thought it looked stylish. Of course he did, it was what Spanish guys like him wore. The last traces of Rob's Englishness faded away as they were replaced by his new body's Spanish culture.

By the time he walked out of the gym his mind was exactly the same as this body's old host. Rob was no longer an immigrant, and no longer a hypocrite.

#tfmybody #tf #bodyswap

246 notes · View notes

my-corneroftheworld · 1 year

Text

Child without love

Summary: Namor finds a marine biologist with the powers to control water and deep knowledge of the sea and is intrigued.

Word count: 1,1k

Tags: Smut in later chapters (no minors allowed), "water-bender" reader x Namor after the events from Wakanda forever, possessive Namor, mutant reader, talk of climate change, asphyxiation, the deep sea being a bit scary, war, violence, harsh language, Wakanda forever spoilers, the usage of y/n, afab reader

Ps. if you read the preview before you can start reading after the divider. I barely made any changes other than grammar-related and wording. If you want more chapters I would greatly appreciate some constructive criticism in the comments

Masterlist

Chapter 1

I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. "You can't just go behind my back like that! There are set rules and hierarchies that keep our organization running smoothly!" Adeoye yelled while he was walking frantically back and forth. He never could handle stress well. " You're little outburst may have cost us our one shot to get the right people's attention!"

I want to say I'm sorry and that it was rude and petty of me. But I couldn't because I did what I thought was right. They have ignored our every attempt to better their policies and today's presentation only opened my eyes to how blissfully ignorant they allowed themselves to be. He stopped his pacing and rubbed his eyes under his big ill-fitting glasses.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" he asked abrasively. I knew that he wasn't really angry at me. He was frustrated with everything. The board director's nonchalant attitude, the over-looming doom of the deadline we've got in 2 months and my little outburst were certainly not making things better.

"No" I answered.

"Well if that's the case then you give me no choice other than to suspend you for 2 weeks" he sighed. I wasn't surprised. Cussing out the board due to their lack of ethical consideration whilst ignoring every warning I and others have worked tirelessly on proving wasn't really considered to be professional. " I understand," I say solemnly and start picking up my notes. 5 years of studying and 3 years of diligent work have come to this, being pushed aside so that rich people can profit off of dangerous means at the cost of the health of our seas. And having no power to change anything

I drove home in silence, with nothing but the wind from the window creek as my companion. I think I'll have to practice today to let off some steam. After arriving and leaving my notes by the kitchen counter, I changed into my swimsuit and went down to the beach. Moving here was mainly so I could get to work within 15 minutes but having the sea outside my back door has definitely changed my life. I never liked using my powers in front of others. Mutants aren't really welcome unless they're wearing suits and have fancy names. So there aren't many moments where I can use them to their fullest extent. When I do I feel at home. I feel free of everything. My worries and concerns are washed away.

Once I reach the water I breathe in and allow myself to feel its pull. Imitating the waves with my hands till it starts to imitate me, following my every command. I slowly start walking in allowing myself to be surrounded then I dive keeping the water from reaching my face and requiring no movements though I still haven’t passed 5 minutes at a time. Maybe I’ll make it at 6 today. I decide to explore a little further than usual, seeing what I can find on the sea floor and cleaning up small things that shouldn’t be there.

It was then I noticed it. The entity that has been watching me from afar. It barely moved and I couldn’t really make out its shape. But I knew it was looking at me and it stayed completely still. I was scared. My bubble was slowly shrinking so I began to slowly make my way back to shore. As soon as I did the shadow got closer and closer which made me anxious to reach land. I finally burst into the sea, gasping for air. I lay down on the beach, trying to catch my breath then a voice called out.

“Who are you?”

______________________________________________________________

I quickly turned around and faced what seemed to be a man. Out of panic, I summoned water at my side and launched it at him with full force. He then began to levitate and dodge my advance with.. wings attached to his feet? Shocked I ceased fire and looked at him again. He was otherworldly. His dark eyes stared at me with a hint of confusion and irritation. His hair was a dark brown and wet from the swim, framing his face ever so slightly. The sunset made his warm terra-cotta skin glow along with his pearls and gold accessories. He was beautifully serene, like straight out of a dream. If I didn't know any better I would’ve thought that he was a god. As I scanned his body so did he with mine before stopping at my eyes demanding an answer to his question.

“Who are you?” He asked again urgently, stepping closer to my frame. I tried to move back as a response.

“I- I’m y/n l/n.”

“That is not what I meant. I mean where are you from? Are there more of you?”

“I’m from here. I’m not sure what you mean by more of me” I answered hesitantly. Why is he asking all these questions? I mean from the looks of he’s most definitely some kind of mutant. He’s a bit too good of a swimmer to think otherwise. Not to mention the literal full-functioning wings at his feet.

“More who can manipulate water.” he clearifies.

“No.. I mean none that I know of” I say and start rising slowly from the ground. “Who are you?.. Are you perhaps like me?” I have never met another mutant before. Let alone someone connected to water. Hope starts swelling up. Maybe..just maybe I am not alone.

“No I am not like you. As for who I am it is not for you to know.” He says bluntly. And just like that my sliver of hope is gone. “Then what do you want?” I ask while noticing he’s pointed ears adorned with what seemed to be jade earrings.

“That is yet to be decided.” He begins circling me around slowly. “There are threats that are making it hard for me to perform my duties and your power, though meager, may develop into what I need to avoid any more...complications.”

Duties? Complications? What the hell is he talking about? He studied my face, assessing it possibly looking for a way to find out what I was thinking. Does he work for the government? Is that it? I’ve heard of mutant agents who were forced to do sketchy shit that higher-ups didn't want to be associated with.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. Though I am grateful for the consideration to recruit me, I have my own “duties” to attend to.” After voicing my intentions I decided it was best to leave. As soon as I turned around I heard him say. “I’m afraid I cannot take no as an answer” and before I could react, everything went dark and my last thought was how warm he felt in his arms as he took me back to the sea.

#kukulcan #ku'kulkhan mcu x reader #namor x reader #mcu namor

2K notes · View notes

deep-sea-scholar · 1 year

Text

Okay I need to rant about Glass Onion for several paragraphs

WARNING: SPOILERS!

Glass onion is phenomenal, and I personally enjoyed its themes more than the first Knives Out movie.

Now don’t get me wrong, Knives Out is arguably the better film, but its strengths lie in the complexity and brilliant execution of its core mystery. It’s a fantastic self-contained story about a shitty rich family and the people they directly affect. The members of the family range across the political spectrum and all express different ideologies, but the moment a migrant working-class woman has a legitimized shot at their inheritance they band together to prevent her from improving her life. It's interesting commentary on how wealthy people can talk a big game about helping others and being good people, but ultimately fall morally short when such actions threaten what they feel they “rightfully deserve.” But that's arguably the limitation of the film as its focus is entirely on the interpersonal conflict between the Thrombey family and Marta.

Glass onion isn’t limited by that.

The entire thematic core of Glass Onion concerns the damage that the rich and powerful can do to the world if they aren’t supervised, criticized, or limited.

Aside from our lovely detective Benoit Blanc, the murdered Andi Brand, and her twin sister Helen, all of the characters are shitty people that are damaging the world in a uniquely horrible way as a direct consequence of the unchecked power and wealth they wield.

To start we have Governor Claire Dubella. Her success in her political career has relied almost entirely on monetary support and influence from the films big bad and Elon Musk/Jeff Bezos analogue Miles Bron. Her platform has good objectives, and she’s passionate about hard topics like climate change, but her ability to act is entirely limited by the influence Miles has on her. If Miles wants her to do something, she feels like she has no choice but to, which results in her greenlighting an experimental powerplant that Miles wants built to advocate for his new fuel source. It’s untested technology, it’s volatile and dangerous as fuck, and Claire feels like she has no choice but to go along with it because if she doesn’t Miles will withdraw support from her career, or worse, support her opponents. She likens it to selling her soul, and it really is. She willingly undermined the health of her constituents for the sake of saving her career, and the shitty part is that Miles only controls her because she lets him. She could deny the power plant, or leave Miles, at any time, but she doesn’t because she perceives the personal risk as to great. She is a politician that won’t stand up for the people she represents, and no one calls her out on it.

Next, we have Duke Cody, the Alpha male men’s rights streamer who is just like, the absolute worst person in this film. His views and opinions are incredibly toxic, his actions and beliefs directly hurt the people he influences through the hurtful products he promotes, and thanks to Mile's wealth and influence both he and his terrible, terrible, terrible opinions have official backing and some form of legitimacy. He’s almost the direct inverse of Claire, being someone who really shouldn’t have support, but is getting it anyway because he’s Mile’s friend. And because Miles doesn’t care and is giving Duke support and helping him dodge legal trouble, he enables Dukes terrible opinions and lets them influence and hurt people.

Then we have Birdie, my personal favorite of the disruptors. She is a fashion designer, media star, and breathtakingly, beautifully, stupid. She’s not actively malicious like some of the other characters, but she is just so fundamentally incapable of thinking things through. When paired with her wealth and influence, this results in horrifying real-world consequences. She has her iconic fashion line of sweatpants made at the most infamous sweatshop in Bangladesh not because she doesn’t care, but because she thought a sweatshop is just a shop where you make sweatpants. She’s just very stupid, but at the very least has the decency to be aware of it. She even decides to own up to her Bangladesh mistake of her own volition, independent of the plot. The problem is that no one corrected for her, or guided her, or worked to influence her decisions. Miles just cared about what her brands could do for him and was perfectly willing to throw her under the bus to preserve his image.

Last of the four Disruptors is Lionel Toussaint. Not much to say about him actually, he’s fairly straightforward. He works directly under Miles as a scientist and is a parallel for the people that want to have confidence in tech ‘pioneers’ like Elon Musk. After all they’ve been successful, and things have worked out in the past, surely, we can give them leeway with new technology development. But there’s a reason why technology is prototyped and tested, and that’s because things always go wrong, and you need to take time and care to figure out how to ensure new technology is safe.

Which leads us to this asshole.

Miles goddamn Mona Lisa Burning Bron.

The absolute, motherfucking, shithead moron directly responsible for everything bad that happens in this film.

I lied about Duke Cody because this absolute buffoon is the actually the worst person in this film.

He manipulates politicians into endangering their constituents for his own gain, he enables the absolute worst and most toxic people by giving them legitimate platforms, he promotes influencers without caring for what their unchecked actions result in, and he deludes the people that work for him and want to believe in him with self-assured delusion. This man is arrogant, an indiscribable moron (worse than Birdie because at least she acknowledges her failings), dangerously delusional, obsessed with control, and most damning of all, unchecked.

Miles Bron is a direct look at how too much unchecked power, wealth, and influence results in unmitigated disasters. He doesn’t care about helping people, because he doesn’t take the time to make sure untested technology is safe for the public, handwaving legitimate concerns with denial and false assurance. He doesn’t care about his friends, because he murders two of them the instant, they become a threat to his control. He’s not smart, because all of his genius is the result of other people, he’s just skilled at advertising it as his own to get the credit. All he cares about is doing what he wants and being in control, because his opinion and self-worth and legacy is more precious to him than any other thing in the world. The man is a lie so absolute, so convoluted, and so stupidly straightforward that the slightest piece of truth will bring the facade of his existence crumbling down. And it’s hard to acknowledge something like that in the real world because someone that successful being that malicious and dumb sounds incredibly stupid. It’s an easy lie to buy because it’s more believable than how stupid the truth is.

Anyway, ultimately my conclusion is that we see a strikingly accurate portrayal of Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk in this film, and it was very cathartic seeing their hopes, ambitions, and house burn down around them. Because billionaires like them are shithead morons that lie to and manipulate everyone, and their arrogant and harmful self-delusions compound through the people they manage to influence.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

#knives out #glass onion #benoit blanc #film #mystery film #movie review #elon musk #jeff bezos #Need a hard kick in the nuts #literary analysis #movies #netflix #eat the fucking rich #can't believe a murder mystery radicalized me #rambling

1K notes · View notes

doumadono · 6 months

Note

Hawks and Q! 🙏 I love your writings❤️

A/N: I thoroughly enjoyed the prompt you selected for Hawks. I trust this short, heartwarming story meets your expectations. Wishing you a wonderful day ♥ The inspiration for this ficlet came from the following post

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

You found yourself entwined in the chaotic dance of everyday life, caught up in the whirlwind of emotions that came with your relationship with the charismatic hero, Hawks. Being the freelance journalist that you were, you often found solace in the quiet moments, where your thoughts flowed freely onto the pages of your notebook.

One chilly evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you sat by the window in your cozy apartment, the city lights casting a warm glow on the pages before you. Immersed in the task at hand, you had your headphones on, delving into the intricacies of crafting an article about climate changes in Japan. The world around you faded into the background as your focus narrowed on the keyboard beneath your fingertips.

Unbeknownst to you, your phone, tucked away on the desk, buzzed intermittently, the ringtone silenced to prevent any disruptions to your writing flow.

Hours passed in the cocoon of concentration until, finally feeling the need for a break, you decided to peel yourself away from the keyboard. As you removed your headphones, the ambient sounds of the room rushed back in, and it was then that you noticed the diode in your phone pulsating, informing of a new notifications. Picking it up, you were greeted by the missed call notification, and your curiosity piqued as you saw it was from your boyfriend, Keigo. A momentary pang of guilt crept in as you realized the silence in your writing sanctuary had inadvertently caused you to overlook his attempt to reach out.

Your heart skipped a beat, anxiety prickling at the edges of your mind. Hawks rarely called, and the uncertainty of the situation fueled your imagination with all sorts of scenarios. Was there trouble on the horizon? Did he need your help in some perilous mission? The possibilities played out like a suspenseful movie in your mind.

Hesitantly, you returned the call, your voice carrying a subtle tremor. "Hey, Hawks. I saw your missed call. Is everything okay? I've been busy, I'm sorry."

There was a brief pause before Hawks' voice, laced with amusement, echoed through the phone. "Oh, sweetheart, everything's fine. I just wanted to hear your voice."

Confusion and relief mingled within you as Hawks continued, his tone light and teasing. "Got caught up in a little skirmish, you know how it goes. But I thought, why not take a break and check in on my favorite person?"

A playful grin formed on your face, realizing you had been caught in the web of Hawks' mischievous nature. "You scared me there for a moment. A call in the middle of hero duties, huh? Shouldn't you be saving the day or something?"

Hawks chuckled, the sound like a melody that eased the tension in your chest. "Well, I've got my priorities straight, and you're at the top of the list. Speaking of which, how about dinner tomorrow? My treat. We'll celebrate surviving another day in this crazy world, and maybe not only that."

As the conversation shifted from angst to warmth, you agreed, the prospect of spending quality time with Hawks brightening your evening.

The next day, Hawks whisked you away to a charming little restaurant, the city lights providing a picturesque backdrop. The evening was filled with light-hearted banter, with Hawks effortlessly blending his hero persona with the charming, carefree man you had come to adore.

The evening at the restaurant continued to unfold with a delightful rhythm. The ambiance was warm, the soft glow of the lights creating an intimate atmosphere that wrapped around you and Hawks like a comforting embrace. The laughter and easy banter flowed freely, weaving a tapestry of shared moments that deepened the connection between you two.

As the night progressed, Hawks, with his ever-charming demeanor, guided the conversation towards the future. The air was charged with a subtle energy, and you couldn't help but sense a shift in the atmosphere. Suddenly, he looked at you with a glint of sincerity in his eyes, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Hey," he began, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone, "you know, life is full of surprises, right?"

You met his gaze, curiosity mingling with a touch of excitement. "I'm all ears. What surprise do you have up your sleeve, Hawks?"

He reached into his pocket, pulling a small box that gleamed in the candlelight.

The guests around you, previously engrossed in their own conversations, began to take notice as Hawks opened the box, revealing a delicate ring that sparkled in the soft glow. A hush fell over the restaurant, and all eyes turned towards the unfolding scene.

Hawks, maintaining his characteristic cool, yet playful demeanor, spoke words that echoed with sincerity. "I've been doing some thinking, and, well, how about we make this adventure called life a bit more official?"

The realization hit you like a gentle wave, and your eyes widened with a mix of surprise and joy. You covered your mouth wth a curled palm. "Keigo, do you…?"

The room seemed to hold its breath as Hawks continued, "Will you make me the happiest bird in the sky and be my forever partner in crime?" With a smirk, Hawks added, "Come on, it's not every day you get proposed to by the fastest bird in the sky. Don't keep a hero waiting."

Overwhelmed with emotion, tears of happiness welled up in your eyes. In a voice barely above a whisper, you managed to say, "Yes, Hawks. A thousand times, yes."

As Keigo slipped the ring onto your finger, the guests erupted into a mix of applause and cheers.

Hawks, couldn't resist a triumphant grin as he pulled you into a tender embrace.

The world around you blurred as the reality of the proposal sank in, and you couldn't help but cry tears of joy, feeling the warmth of love enveloping you like a soft, comforting blanket.

As the night unfolded, and as you walked hand in hand with Keigo through the city streets, returning to your shared flat, the lights flickering like stars overhead, you couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected beauty that unfolded from that one missed call.

#hawks x you #hawks fluff #keigo takami x you #mha hcs #takami keigo #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks hcs #bnha fluff #mha fluff #hawks fanfiction #keigo takami fluff #mha hawks #bnha hawks

202 notes · View notes

altsvu · 4 months

Note

i love what you did with my last ask so i just knew i needed to do another. how about a aaron x black!reader she's 7 months pregnant and over the phone has a discussion with aaron about the baby's skin color telling him "what if when it gets older it gets killed" and even aaron has to take a breath but over all jack heard the convo and is confused because he's like 8 and doesn't understand race like that and you and aaron explain it

complexities of race

pairing: aaron hotchner x pregnant!black!fem!reader

wc: 1.3k

cw: underlying mentions of current climate (iykyk), brief mentions of race/racism, fluff, pregnancy

a/n: girlll your prompts are so amazing, i love that you give me a challenge 🫶🏽🫶🏽 this was so hard to write not gonna lie, but of course i enjoyed it nonetheless!!! also this is the first fic of 2024! :) also i’m sorry it took me so long to write this!

criminal minds masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

“Aaron... I have something to tell you.” you smiled, leaning against the frame of the living room walkway. You hoped that he would be just as excited as you were, all those nights making love paid off.

“Sweetheart... you’re smiling, grinning even. What is it?” He asked.

“I’m pregnant.” you gushed, revealing the pregnancy test that was hidden in your hand.

Aaron’s eyes lit up in excitement. He rushed over to you and pulled you into his arms. “Oh, Y/N, that’s amazing!”

You were crying tears of joy, you were super excited to finally have a baby with the love of your life.

Fast forward to 7 months, you were thriving through all the symptoms of pregnancy. All the motion sickness, waking up in the middle of the night to throw up, the kicking, just to name a few.

Aaron made sure to be there for you every step of the way, from the moment he found out you were pregnant up until now. He would rub your belly a lot, give you foot and shoulder massages, satisfy your weird food cravings, and even read to your unborn child when he could.

You had no worries about this pregnancy. Until the intrusive thoughts started coming. Being a soon to be mom, you didn’t know if it was mother’s intuition, or just the simple fact that you were a black woman living in America. You started thinking a lot about how your baby would be when they grew up. Facing racism almost everywhere you went was not fun, which was why learning how to handle a situation like that was extremely important. You didn’t want your child being made fun of for their skin color or the way they look and not being able to see their self worth, see how beautiful they are, and that comments like those are baseless and have no real meaning.

This was something that needed to be discussed with Aaron. He sees the world differently than you do so it was important to you that your significant other understand your feelings and experiences. It wasn’t going to be like any other conversation they have had about racism; this time it involved a child, an innocent child.

You were at your grandparents’ house for the weekend and you decided to call Aaron to talk while you had some downtime.

He answered the phone fast and the two of you got into conversation quick. He asked you if you were doing okay and that he missed you and couldn’t wait until you came back so he could take care of you. You expressed that you missed him as well and asked him how he and Jackson were doing.

Then you decided to let the cat out of the bag.

“Aaron?”

“Yes love?”

You exhaled out of your nose. “There’s something I’m worried about, uh, for this pregnancy. Or at least something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about for a while.”

“What is it?”

“Our baby is black. I just- I dunno, what if... our child gets killed when it goes out into the world on their own? This world is a sick place and it’s hard to raise a black child.“

Aaron paused for a bit. He knew what you were saying was the truth, and nothing but the truth. But he had no idea how to respond. Growing up, he never really knew what it was like to be made fun of because of the color of someone’s skin, let alone now in today’s world, where people get killed just because of it.

“Y/N, I want you to know that our baby will be protected to the fullest extent. Everything that you told me is all true, and I don’t want to dismiss any of your feelings.”

“I know, and I appreciate you for that.” you answered.

All of Aaron’s words were reassuring, but you still didn’t think he understood. It’s not that you were mad at him for that, you didn’t blame him for anything. You wanted to educate as much as possible.

You were the oldest daughter in your family, and seeing how your other siblings were raised, you wanted the best for your child.

You continued talking to Aaron about it in hopes that those intrusive thoughts would go away sometime soon.

✯✯✯✯

You were back from your grandparents’ house and you were now sitting on the couch at Aaron’s place, which became yours as well since you moved in with him.

He had something important to talk to you about, and a part of you thought it had to do with the phone conversation a few days ago.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, um, it’s just Jack. He overheard our conversation the other day and he’s been asking questions and I think it would be best for the both of us to answer those questions.”

“I think that’s a good thing. He’s growing up and these are conversations that need to be held. I’m happy to help him understand as best as I can.”

Aaron took your hand and smiled. “I agree.”

A few hours later, after Jack came back home from school, the three of you sat at the dining table enjoying the meal Aaron cooked. Beforehand, you had told Aaron that you were gonna use the eggs in the fridge as an example since Jack was still so young to understand technical terms.

“So, Jack, we wanted to talk to you about something, and it’s very important, okay?” Aaron started.

“Okay.”

“So I know you’ve asked about what race is and things like that. I wanna show you something, okay? I think it will help you understand.”

You got up and got a white and a brown egg from the fridge as well as a spoon and placed them in front of Jack.

“Which egg do you want to break?”

“The white one!” Jack exclaimed, taking the spoon and breaking it.

You smiled softly. “Okay, good. Now how come you decided not to break the brown one instead?”

“I thought it would look different on the inside.”

“Well, do you wanna see something cool?” You asked. Jack nodded in response. You took the spoon and broke the brown one.

“They look the same on the inside.” Jack noted.

“You’re right, Jack. The eggs look different on the outside, but when you break them open, you see that they look the same.” Aaron started.

He explained to Jack that people have preferences for a lot of tangible things, and how it can apply to actual human beings. For only being 8 years old, Jack was very attentive to what you and Aaron had to say, and was asking all the right questions.

“Because the baby growing inside of me is going to look different than you, people may not like that. But my baby is a human too.”

“Is that why you were scared?”

You nodded. “I went through it too, and I just want to keep my baby safe.”

Jack went over to you and hugged your belly in response. It made you smile from ear to ear.

✯✯✯✯

“Hi beautiful.” Aaron said, kissing your cheek.

It had been evening time at this point and Aaron had just tucked Jack into bed, and you were lying down in the other room reading a book.

“Hi,” you responded back smiling.

Aaron got settled in with you in bed and cuddled. “Do you feel better about everything now?”

“Honestly, I know that deep down inside, those feelings are still there and will arise at some point but being able to talk about it freely is refreshing.” you admitted. “And that’s okay.”

He smiled. “That’s good. I’m glad Jack was able to take part of this conversation with us.”

“Me too. Surely we’ll have even more engaging conversations like this.”

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @averyhotchner @storiesofsvu @ssaic-jareau @blackbeautifulqueen @mstrinnyb @will-on-the-internet

132 notes · View notes