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#i don't know where my brain is at today but i can't stop thinking about this
chaotic-toasters · 1 day
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Gone (2)
So both parts of this have been out on Wattpad, I just felt like waiting a bit to post this one so you all could suffer 😈
Cortnee Vine x Reader
Arsenal Women x Reader
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"Cort? Are you in there?" Charlotte joked, waving her hand in front of Cortnee's face. "You left for sec."
"Yeah, sorry, what were you sayin', babes?"
"You ready for the match tomorrow?"
The winger racked her brain. "Against..."
"Arsenal! How have you forgotten? We've literally never played them before."
"Oh, right," Cortnee shook her head.  "It slipped my mind."
"You're so forgetful sometimes," Charlotte smiled fondly. "Aren't you excited to see Y/N?"
Y/N. Just hearing your name sent pangs of guilt through Cortnee's empty heart.
"Yeah, of course," she lied. "I'm always excited to see her."
The duo sat in silence, both occupied by their own thoughts.
"Hey, Char?" Cortnee said suddenly. "Could you ever imagine a life without me?"
Charlotte was quiet for a moment. "No. I need you. Why?"
"Just asking."
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"Hi, girls," you forced a smile onto your face as you slipped into the changing room. "We ready to face Sydney?"
"Yup," Katie patted you on the back uncharacteristically softly as you sat down at your cubby. "Ye' ready?"
"Mhm," you pulled your shirt over your head, missing the way Kim and Steph shared a look. "I'm excited."
Katie snorted, ignoring the way that the rest of your teammates glared at her. "Coulda fooled me."
"I am excited."
Stina silently intervened, pulling the door open and ushering Jonas inside to do his pre-match talk. "Quiet down, girls."
Jonas raised his eyebrows at the thin layer of awkwardness in the room. "Everybody alright?"
"Yes. Go ahead, Jonas."
"Okay, so..."
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"Y/N," Kim grabbed your arm just before you left the changing room. "Wait a minute."
"What is it, Kimmy?" you asked, eyes darting to the side where Steph was standing with her arms crossed.
The Scot sat on the bench, gesturing for you to do the same. "Ye' trust me, don't ye'?"
You nodded instantly. "Yes."
"I hope ye' understand that Steph informed me of yer' current... situation with Cortnee Vine," the captain stated apologetically. "Regardless of how ye' feel about that, ye' need to let me or Jonas know if ye' can't play today."
"Steph!" you hissed, standing up quickly. "I told you all of that because I trusted you! I don't want this getting out."
The defender's gaze never wavered. "Do you think we'd let something like this get out? I was your captain. Kim is your captain. We care about you as both a player and a person. If you can't play in today's game because the emotions are too high, then don't play. You're more important than football."
You clenched your jaw, reluctantly backing down and returning your gaze to Kim. "I'll tell you if I need to come off. Can I go now?"
"Yeah. Go ahead."
As soon as you were out the door, Kim sighed. "She's not gonna tell me shit."
"No, she won't," Steph agreed. "We'll just have to keep an eye on her. I'll let Lia and Stina know."
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Cortnee's eyes flicked to the left, pursing her lips as you slipped into the line of Gunners next to her.
It was as if you knew she was watching you, automatically diverting your gaze to look anywhere but at her.
She decided to just try talking to you. "Y/N—"
"Not now, Viney," Kyra whispered, reaching over to pat the winger on the shoulder. "Later."
Cortnee turned away, deciding to just sulk in silence. The two of you hadn't spoken since the incident, and it was killing her inside. She missed you. A lot.
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"Ow, fuck," you groaned, stretching out your leg as the whistle blew. "Fuck, that hurt."
Mackenzie Hawkesby extended her hand, offering you an apologetic smile as she pulled you to your feet. "Sorry, mate."
"S'alright," you answered gruffly. "Let's get back to it."
"Y/N—" Cortnee stopped short as you swiftly turned around. "Y/N, can we talk after this?"
You shook your head, jogging into position as Katie prepared to take the free kick. You didn't need any distractions.
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"WHY YE' TAKIN' THE PISS?!" Katie's booming shout was the first thing you heard after going down for the tenth time in fifteen minutes. "WHAT ARE YE' TRYIN' TO DO? KILL HER?"
Charlotte Mclean only shook her head, backing up slightly. "It was an accident."
"Katie," Kim's stern voice filled your ears next. "Leave it be. We don't need ye' gettin' a yellow."
You rolled over, clutching your ankle with a whimper as blood flowed quickly and freely down the side of your face.
"Y/N," Steph pressed a hand to the wound on your head, other hand resting on your back as you went limp from exhaustion (and maybe blood loss). "Y/N, don't move. The medics are coming."
"You'll get yer' arse over here if ye' know what's good for ye'," Katie growled, pulling against Lia and Kim. "Thinkin' ye' can just hurt Y/N like that? Think again."
Your eyes subconsciously drifted over to where she stood, taking in the way Cortnee was frozen in fear as she stared at the big screen.
It was replaying the moment in which Charlotte had timed her tackle wrong, hitting you square in the ankle and causing you to fly forwards and into the goalpost.
It spurred Cortnee into action, the winger darting over and shoving her own girlfriend out of anger. "What the hell, Charlotte?! Look at what you did! Look at Y/N! You fucking hurt her!"
Charlotte looked aghast. "It was an accident! And why the hell are you taking her side? I'm your girlfriend! Not her!"
"I wish she was!" Cortnee snapped before slapping a hand over her mouth.
You suddenly sat up, injuries forgotten as blood dripped down the side of your face. "Really?"
"LAY BACK DOWN!" Kim and Steph yelled, both pairs of hands shoving you onto your back.
"Y/N, where are we?" an Arsenal medic you didn't remember arriving asked you.
Cortnee took that as an opportunity to get away, apologizing to her manager before taking off into the tunnel.
"At the Emirates," you responded immediately, maneuvering yourself so that no blood would stian your jersey. "I don't have a concussion, mate."
"Well—"
Lotte peered over his shoulder. "She looks fine to me."
"Lotte, no," Kim protested. "Ye' had stitches all down the middle of yer' forehead and said ye' were fine. Ye' don't get a say in this."
"I do!" you objected, closing your left eye just before the crimson droplets could get into it. "It's my decision because I'minjured and I am me. And I say that I'm fine! I just need a bandage and then I'm good to go."
"Why is it bleedin' so much?" Kim sucked in a breath as more medics ran onto the field with a stretcher. "That's way too much blood just for a collision with a goalpost."
One of the medics shook their head as you shoved everybody off you and stood. "I don't—"
Their voice was cut off by the sudden ringing in your ears, hitting you at the same time the dizziness did. You keeled over, someone quickly catching you before you hit the ground.
In a panic, Steph tapped your clean cheek in an attempt to get you to respond. Unfortunately, you were already passed out, concussion symptoms making a delayed appearance but hitting you full force nonetheless.
Had you been conscious, you would have heard the cries of both the crowd and your teammates as you fell. You would have noticed the look of worry on Katie's usually smug face. You would have seen Kim's uncharacteristically terrified face. Seen Kyra hiding her face in Caitlin's shoulder. Seen Jonas sprinting onto the pitch with paramedics in tow.
Another thing that you weren't aware of was the paramedics telling your teammates that it wasn't a concussion. They weren't sure what yet, but it was something much worse.
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The waiting room was eerily silent, each and every player lost in their own thoughts as they waited for updates on your condition.
The game had been called off, both Kim and the Sydney FC captain wanting to follow you to the hospital.
Everyone had arrived at roughly the same time, storming into A&E and demanding to know what was going on.
A doctor had quickly informed them that you were suffering from an epidural hematoma and rushed to surgery.
No one had spoken since then, afraid that if another word was uttered it wouldn't end well.
It was simply a waiting game, the only sound being the ticking off the analog clock on the wall.
Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes into hours. Some of the players fell asleep, while other forced their eyes open in hopes that you'd be out of surgery soon. It didn't work, and most drifted off with their worries still at the forefront of their thoughts.
It wasn't until early the next morning when a doctor would finally enter the room, clipboard in hand. "Family of Y/N—"
Everyone snapped awake, Kim shooting to her feet at her words. "Yes, that's us. What's going on?"
"Y/N Y/L/N was fortunate enough to not incur any permanent brain damage or go into a coma," the doctor assured with a smile. "She'll make a full recovery."
Cortnee breathed a sigh of relief from the corner of the room, wiping away a few stray tears as all of the other girls cheered quietly.
"Thank you, doctor," Kim's relief was evident. "Can we see her?"
"One at a time. She's very disoriented right now and it wouldn't be good to overwhelm her."
All eyes turned to Cortnee who only shook her head. "Doc just said not to overwhelm her. I don't think it would be a good idea right now."
"I'll go then," Steph declared, standing up. "Kim, you should go next. I think you need it more than her."
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"Hey, kiddo," Steph's voice was gentle as she sat on the chair next to the bed. She reached over to grab your hand. "How are you feeling, love?"
"Hey, Stephy," your eyes were shut, voice hoarse. "My head kinda hurts."
She smiled, just happy that you were alright. "I figured. You scared us, you know."
"'M sorry," you murmured, tugging Steph's hand closer. "Is anybody else here, or just you?"
She scoffed lightly. "Kid, everyone is here. Jonas is here, Kim is here, Katie is here... the whole team is here. So are the Sydney girls."
"Is Cortnee here?"
Steph faltered. "Y‐yeah. She doesn't want to come in, though. Doesn't think it's a good time."
"Okay," you mumbled, unsure of whether to be disappointed or relieved. "Did we win?"
"We called off the game," the defender said. "We were too worried."
"Oh."
"I'm gonna head out, kid. Kim's next. I think she needs to see you more than you need to see her."
You chuckled. "True."
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"Hey, Cort?" Charlotte's voice was hesitant. "I—"
She stopped short as her and Cortnee locked eyes. A sort of mutual understanding passed between them. No more words were spoken, but they seemed to come to an agreement. It hadn't been clear to either of them before, but now it made sense. They loved each other, but they hadn't been in love for quite some time.
They had thought that they were soulmates, and they weren't completely wrong, but they weren't completely right either. They were platonic soulmates. They cared deeply for each other, but they weren't meant to be together.
Maybe this wasn't what Cortnee had expected, but she wasn't complaining. All that was left was for her to convince you to give her a chance. If she succeeded, she was golden.
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"Kimmy?" you questioned.
"Yeah, kiddo?" the skipper's voice was less shaky now.
"Can— can you call Cortnee in? I want to see her."
Kim was silent. "Are ye' sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay, kiddo," the Scot patted your uninjured leg. "But if it gets too much, then I want you to tell her to leave. You can't be overwhelmed right now, and this isn't a great idea, but I trust you."
True to her word, she left, the door shutting behind her before it swung open a minute later to reveal the redhead who had been on your mind since you'd woken up. "Hey, Cort."
"Hey, Y/N," the winger hesitantly sat down at your beside, offering her hand which you took without a second thought. "I— I was worried about you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I— I missed you," she admitted. "Listen, what I said yesterday on that pitch— I meant it. Char and I— well, we kind of... we, um... we broke up."
The dull ache in your head paused, brain disconnecting at Cortnee's words. "Huh?"
"We ended it on good terms," Cortnee swallowed, forcing herself to keep going despite the cowardly urge to shut the fuck up and sprint out of the room. "She understood that—that I love you. You were my best friend, Y/N. I cared for you, but I didn't realize that the love I had for you wasn't platonic. I didn't realize that the love I had for Char wasn't romantic. It was the opposite."
Her confession was everything you'd ever wanted (other than having an almost fatal brain injury in the process), but now that it was happening, you could barely form the words to respond. "I—I love you too."
"Are you sure?"
You snorted. "What, do you want me to say, 'SIKE!' I WAS JUST KIDDING!'?
"No, no, no," she shook her head quickly. "I just want to make sure it's not the epidural hemahema whatever it's called talking."
You snickered.
"What? I'm not a doctor!"
"I'm sure, Cort," you smiled at her, reaching up to pat her cheek. "I love you. Always have, always will."
"That's sweet." She smiled back at you.
You waited. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"You gonna kiss me now or you just gonna stare at me?"
"Oh," Cortnee blushed. "Can I kiss you?"
"Are you deaf? I just said yes."
"Oh," she said again. "Oh."
You rolled your eyes, grabbing her by the front of her jersey and pulling her into a kiss. "You're an idiot sometimes, you know that?"
She grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, but now I'm your idiot."
"Yeah, you are. Put that on your Twitter bio, will ya?"
"Of course, love. Now get some rest."
"Love you."
"Love you too, Y/N."
"Oh, and one more thing," you said, grabbing her by the wrist just before she turned around. "FIFA declined my request to switch national teams."
Her grin became impossibly wider. "Really?"
"Yeah. Some dumb legal shit."
She squeezed your hand happily. "I love dumb legal shit."
"Me too, Cort. Me too."
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ash-says · 3 days
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Hush Hush Honey:
A guide on how to regulate oversharing and balancing the conversation flow.
Each one of us has at least been in a situation where we accidentally ended up spilling more than we should. We do recognise the patterns but are unable to control ourselves. That's why your girl Ash-says is here to say a lot about it.
1) Find the why
What are you trying to achieve by sharing that piece of information? Drama? Attention? Get it off your chest? Is it important to inform them? Is it valuable to them?etc.
First tackle the why. Before you go in to reveal something ask yourself if it goes with the conversation flow and if yes is it really important to share it.
2) Are you a celebrity?
No like why? Who is interested in your life so much? Are those people paparazzi to broadcast your current events and bring you fame? No right. So shut up.
3) Who puts their dirty laundry on display?
When you overshare you are basically putting all your secrets, stuff that you do or did on blatant exposure. People are going to judge you. That's the very nature. So breathe and keep it inside.
4) Try to listen more
Train yourself into listening more than speaking especially in group settings or around people that you don't know much about. Gossip is real. You don't want to be the next tea time sensation.
5) Alternatives for talkative people:
Now I know you might be thinking can't say this can't say that then how the hell am I going to bond with people or what should I converse about?
I have developed a solution for you. It's Ash verified because I myself have been using it unknowingly for around 7 years of my life.
Never open your mouth for passing judgements, expressing your opinions on things that do not relate to you, your dirty laundry, secrets, family issues, relationship issues, your sex life, your goals and aspirations, your daily routine, your political standpoint,etc you get where I am going right?
Instead speak about the experiences you had while travelling somewhere, some goofy stuff that happened to you, your harmless vice for example: I am clumsy so I have a lot of incidents that occur due to it which can be told in a funny way. It adds a nuance to my perfectionist image plus helps people warm up to me. Movie shows, songs, etc here also there's a catch if you relate to a show/song/ piece of literature strongly never reveal it. The smart ones will understand the inner workings of your mind.
Never let them know your next move.
If nothing of this then goof around being nonsense. Do little hand gestures, funny faces if you are bored but never overshare.
6) Be mindful of interruption
Practise practise practise. Literally that's the only way. Try not to interrupt people while speaking. There's no roundabout way. It is what it is.
7) Be comfortable in silence
You have to be okay with the conversation dying down. Running your mouth dry will only result in one sided convo. It's more useless and harmful than the one mentioned before.
8) Know your limits
Fix in your brain what you can share and what you can't. Stick to it. Even over your dead body.
9) Be genuinely interested in people
Ask yourself are you asking questions to really get to know the other person or just looking for a chance to talk about yourself? Dethrone yourself first and then interact with others.
10) Put out stuff that you are over with
Always remember what you say can and will be used against you. Drill it and from next time when you speak be mindful that every word can stand against you. Do you have the capacity to handle the consequences? Yes then go ahead. No, then stop live streaming.
Bonus point: Be as private as possible on social media. People don't need to know what you are doing nowadays. Privacy is power. What they don't know they can't ruin.
Strategically put things out. I am not saying be inactive. In Rome you live like the Romans. Do it smartly.
That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.
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mothpawbs · 1 year
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for some reason i keep thinking about the parallel between the lines "you're cold and i burn, i guess i'll never learn" in settle down by the 1975 and "but i'm cold in your heart and you're branded into mine" in cold by novo amor. idk yeah
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luveline · 4 months
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hey baby! happy christmas eve <3 i was wondering if we could get more shy!reader x spence, i know the people love bombshell (and i love her too!) but shy reader has such a special place in my heart :)
ty for requesting!! ♡ fem
The universe puts Spencer Reid so close to you and so often as a punishment for something. You thought you were getting a great gig, selected for the BAU younger than most, surrounded by the top agents in the field, top agents willing to forgive your inexperience just as long as you don't impede the flow. 
Well, you're impeding things. Badly. 
“What are you doing?” Emily asks. “You're not listening to a word I'm saying. I need your help on this.”
Her tone is kinder than her unimpressed stare. “Right. Right, sorry, I'm distracted.” 
“You think?” She frowns. “What's with you?” 
Spencer crouches just outside of your eyeline by the door. The police precinct the BAU dominates today is small and underfunded, leaving Spencer to map his geographical profile on the floor. This is fine, but the precinct is in Texas, where the weather is sweltering, and the way to survive is to strip. He wears a simple blue-white button up without a tie, his sleeves bunched above his elbows, and his hair clings to the damp back of his neck. 
“Nothing. Sorry.” 
Emily hums unhappily. You can't blame her for not believing you. 
You throw yourself back into your work, bouncing theories and details off of each other with Spencer's ear skewed your way. It's harder to talk while he's listening. Worse when Morgan arrives with lunch and insists that Spencer sit beside you so he can hog the vent above. 
“Did they have your diet coke?” Spencer asks. 
You gesture to your cup clumsily. Spencer opens the bag on the table to pull out your polystyrene boxes. He knows without asking what food you've ordered and places it neatly in front of you, passing you a plastic knife and fork before he so much as glances at his own meal. He's sickeningly thoughtful. 
“You okay?” he asks. “You're being really quiet today. Quieter than usual.” 
“I'm fine.” 
“Yeah? You sure?” 
You nod with a tight smile. You're worried if he keeps looking at you that you might burst into flames. 
Spencer puts his hand on your arm and squeezes. The warmth of his palm pressed to the flank of your arm, the gentle pressure, the pat before he pulls back. Your brain melts in your skull and the rest of the team arrive just in time to watch. 
“You look like you've seen a ghost,” JJ says, dropping her jacket on the table. Hotch gives you a concerned squint. 
“I'm fine.” 
“She keeps saying she's fine,” Spencer says, hand on your shoulder now, the lightest of touches. 
“But you're not really fine,” Rossi says, sitting across from you with a knowing look. He always looks like he knows everything. "What's wrong, bella?"
“I'm fine, I'm–” Spencer's touch becomes more insistent on yout shoulder, heat rushes to your face and chest, and suddenly you've lost sight of what you're doing, where your hands are, and you've knocked your soda over in a rush of ice. 
Spencer grabs it before it can tip entirely. Emily throws napkins at the mess. Your hands come up to your face suddenly, embarrassed, but the team laugh and hum their sympathies. 
“I got it,” Emily says. 
“Maybe you should try drinking some of that,” Morgan teases. 
“I'm really sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me today.” 
“Well, don't get stressed about it. Just take a minute,” Hotch says. “Is that mine?” 
Spencer closes in, hand flat on your shoulder, inching down to the small of your back. He stops somewhere on your spine, his every touch like a bruise. He can't not know how nerve wracking it is to be near him, but of course he doesn't. He wouldn't put you through this if he did. 
“Your food's gonna get cold,” he says. 
You rub your eyes and promptly put your hands in your lap. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I just had a hot flush, I think.” 
“Loverboy's not getting to you, is he? Just ignore him,” Morgan says. 
“I'd prefer if you didn't ignore me,” Spencer says quietly, charmingly. 
“Reid, eat.” Hotch meets your eyes. In a room of profilers, he's the best. He's the shark. He probably knew how Reid made you feel before you did, and he's the boss, so he redirects his attention. “Y/N, you're alright?” You nod. “Then let's eat and talk about what we know so far.” 
You give up half way through your meal when Spencer's knee rests against yours and you can physically feel your heart at the contiguity. 
“Are you sure you're okay?” he asks you softly. 
His deodorant smells like mint. “I promise, I'm fine. I think it's just too hot.” 
He makes you a fan with a menu from the takeout and fans you with it. It works at first, but his smile prolongs your agony and it eventually prompts an adverse effect. 
Hotch has to send Spencer out to canvas with Rossi to get you to function again. 
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woso-dreamzzz · 28 days
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Peanut and Liefje
England Lionesses x Child!Reader (Peanut) x Liefje
Summary: Liefje's your best friend
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"Hey," Georgia says," Stop wandering. Your mums won't be happy if I let you run in traffic."
"Waitin' for Liefje," You say," She's coming today. Did you know?"
Auntie G laughs. "I did know that. Are you excited that your friend is coming?"
"Haven't seen Liefje in ages," You reply," Because she went with her Viv to the Netherlands. I want to see her."
"I'm sure that she's excited to see you too."
When the bus finally pulls up with the rest of the squad, you're practically vibrating in excitement and keep trying to push Auntie G's arm off of you as the doors open.
Liefje is one of the last off, with her blue fish backpack on her back and her cookie cutter shark under her arm.
"Liefje!" You cry, running towards and nearly knocking her to the ground if her mum wasn't there to stabilise you both.
"Hi!"
You hug for a super long time because Liefje's your very best friend and you love her so much.
You hold her hand nice and tight all the way to the lunch room where you sit at a table together with her mum, your mums and a few of the City girls.
"My mummies were naked cuddling a few days ago," You say over the sound of cutlery scraping against plates," Mum was kissing Mummy's neck and whispering things to her. Mummy kept making weird noises too and-"
Mum's hand covers your mouth so you can't speak anymore. Hempo and Chloe are laughing but you're not sure why. You haven't said anything that funny.
Liefje's frowning though, a little furrow between her eyebrows as she stabs a carrot with her fork. "My mummies don't naked cuddle," She says," Sometimes they make weird noises but I stay in bed. Sometimes, I go and see Carpet."
Beth covers Leifje's mouth too and the whole table bursts into laughter.
Chloe wrenches Mum's hand from your face. "Tell us more," She says," What else did you see?"
"Peanut," Mummy says," Less talking, more eating."
You know that really means no talking, just eating so you sullenly shovel food into your mouth.
"Mummy," You hear Liefje say," I'm done."
"Done?" Beth says," Well done, Liefje. Do you want something else?"
Liefje shakes her head. "When Peanut's done, can we go and play?"
"I don't know. You'll have to ask Peanut's mums."
"Keira, when Peanut's done, can we go and play?"
"I'm done!" You say," I'm done, Mummy! Can we go and play now?!"
Mum shakes her head before Mummy can speak though. "You're not done at all, Peanut. Come on, a few more bites."
"But I want to play with Liefje!"
"Eat and then we can play. It's just like at Barcelona. You don't get to go and play with Pina and Patri until you've finished lunch. You don't get to play with Liefje until you finish lunch."
"Two more bites," Mummy says," And then you can play with Liefje until training. Agreed?"
"Big bites," Mum tacks on," Not little girl bites. Big girl bites."
You huff but do as you're told. You don't want Liefje to think you're not a big girl and you grab her hand as soon as you're done, dragging her off to where Lessi and Tooney are sitting.
Lessi and Tooney are very funny sometimes so you and Liefje play around with them and a game of Connect Four. You're on the same team as Liefje because she's your bestest friend and she's very smart.
She knows lots of things about sharks so her brain must be very big so she should be good at Connect Four too.
You're mainly there to be her cheerleader. Your Mum says you're the best hype girl in the world and you really want to support Liefje so she can win for your team.
"No!" You say, standing up when Tooney flicks one of the counters at Liefje. "Stop it! No bullying! Bullying is bad!"
"Yeah, Tooney," Alessia giggles," No bullying."
"It's really bad!" You insist," So stop or I'll tell on you!"
Liefje goes to select one of your team's counters when Tooney flicks another one at her.
You don't like that all. Liefje's your bestest friend in the world and she shouldn't be bullied.
You stomp around the table and hit Tooney on the arm. Your mummy says never to hit people but Mum says you can hit to protect someone else. That's what you're doing.
You're protecting Liefje.
"No! No! No!" You say, hitting Tooney so she knows that there's consequences to her actions," Stop! Stop! Stop! No bullying!"
You want to keep hitting her but a soft hand takes yours and you turn to look at Liefje.
She looks a little sad, eyebrows drawn together and you glare at Ella for making your friend look like this.
"Come on," Liefje says in that quiet voice of hers," I think I'm tired. I don't want to play anymore."
"Okay!" You nod, taking her hand in yours a bit more firmer and pulling her over to where your mummies are sitting. You stick your other hand out towards your Mum. "Blanket."
"Blanket, what?"
You huff. "Blanket, please."
Mum hands you your blanket and you wrap it around Liefje's shoulders like how Mum does to you sometimes. You don't have a pillow but you drag a table cover off a table that isn't being used and bundle it up so Liefje can rest her head.
You don't really like sleeping without being in a blanket cave but you're feeling a little sleepy too so you cuddle up next to Liefje and lay next to her.
You're just protecting her in case Ella comes back to bully her.
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eideticallys · 1 year
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I Don't Mind If It's You
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: maybe styling spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.
genre: fluff
word count: 1081
author's notes: i missed spencer's long hair so i decided to write a self-indulging fic about playing with his hair. also posted on ao3 (spencereids).
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SPENCER HAS ALWAYS FOREGONE STYLING HIS HAIR IN THE MORNINGS. He always thought as long as he could just flick the strands of hair behind his ear, he was good to go. And besides, he had a hair tie with him. He could just simply tie it back—no more pesky hair in his line of sight.
He has always foregone styling his hair in the mornings until he met you. While he was big on practicality & “Hairstyling is a waste of time”!” You were the exact opposite. 
It’s quite a funny thing to think about. Spencer, a certified germaphobe, was uncaring about how his hair looked, whether it was kept well today or it looked like a bird’s nest the next. And then, there’s you. You’re not a germaphobe though you pride yourself as a chic woman. Not a law enforcement job could stop you from looking like you came straight out of a magazine.
You always found the time to make sure your hair looked pretty and presentable before heading to work. In your free time—quite rare for FBI agents—you liked to read magazines for trendy new styles to try or watch videos online for tutorials.
And today was definitely your lucky day. No case. Everyone is off for the holidays.
Unfortunately, that’s where your luck ended.
You got injured during your last case. Your arm is in a cast, unable to move it around like you wanted it to. Fortunately, your hand was still good & thankfully, uninjured, unlike the rest of your arm. So, although you were free to lounge around your home, you couldn’t try that one hairstyle you found in one of those Cosmopolitan articles.
Until a genius idea came to you like a light bulb turning on.
“Hey, Spence?”
You asked your boyfriend, who was busy skimming through what seemed like his third or fourth book of the day.
He’s so cute when he’s all focused like this, you thought. 
He hummed in response, still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pages.
“I have a favor to ask you.”
This made Spencer look up from what he was reading, staring at you questioningly. You were the type of person who never asked for help or favors—unless needed. You often disagreed with him because he would prefer it if you told him whatever problem you had. Although he was a genius and could help with you, he knew lending an ear to someone was already a big help. 
"You know I can't move my arm around, right?" You asked him, to which he nodded in agreement. 
"Yeah, is it itchy?” He asked, about to go off on one of his notable tangents. “It takes around six to eight weeks for broken bones in casts to heal. Also, around that time, the injured area starts to itch.”
You nodded fondly at the man, not minding a little bit that he went off-topic. You love listening to his mini-lectures—not only do you learn something new, but you’d also hear the soft tone of his voice. One thing about Spencer is he had a pretty voice. You could listen to him talk for hours.
“There are five main reasons why your casts itch—nerves, trapped moisture, immune response, dead skin cells, and body hair.” Spencer continued tattling. “Nerves cause itchiness because the nerve endings in the skin may fire as the cast begins to harden and dry, sending itch-inducing signals to the brain. As for the itchiness being an immune response, it ensues when the body perceives the plaster of Paris or fiberglass as an outside invader. Histamines may be released. Itching, redness, and swelling can be brought on by released histamine.” 
With his excitement to share facts about how broken bones heal, you couldn’t help but laugh at how dorky but adorable your boyfriend was, which made him scrunch his nose.
“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“You are, but I don’t mind. I like it.”
At this, Spencer’s ears started turning pink, making you chuckle some more. He scratched the back of his neck in shyness as you took it as a clue to tell him what you needed from him.
“My arm isn’t itchy, babe,” you began, “What I need from you is your hair.”
“My what?” 
“Your hair.” 
It was your turn to get shy. You knew Spencer wasn’t a big fan of having his hair messed with. It’s not that he hates it. He just doesn’t like messing with it that much—minus the occasional flicking behind his ear and simply tying it back when it gets irritating.
“I—um,” you explained further, trying to fight against the embarrassment you were feeling. This was your boyfriend you’re talking to!  “I saw this cute new hairstyle online and I wanted to try it but you know, with the broken arm and all…” You trailed off.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” You chuckled humorlessly, beyond embarrassed at this point.
This was such a bad idea. Why did you even bring it up? You were about to start berating yourself, ready to hop onto the next train and create a new identity for yourself, when you noticed Spencer shuffling towards you, sitting on the floor between your legs.
“You want me to style your hair?” You asked incredulously, still can’t believe Spencer would let you play with his hair.
“Of course.” He replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world 
Like it was an everyday thing for anyone—you—to do his hair.
“I don’t mind my hair being played with if it’s you.”
At that, you blushed as you started combing through his soft curls with your fingers. Spencer merely smiled softly at the gesture and closed his eyes.
“Y/N?” Spencer asked quietly.
“Yeah?” You asked back as you started braiding his hair. “What is it, Spence?”
“I love you.” He muttered. “I may not like it when people touch my hair out of nowhere. But if it’s you, I don’t mind having you do it for the rest of my life.”
You gasped at his sudden confession and were about to say those three words back when you felt it.
Spencer planted a kiss on your injured arm and pulled your other one down, so he could be face-to-face with you. And before you knew it, his lips brushed against yours, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.
Maybe styling Spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.
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httpiastri · 4 months
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ollie bearman x crawford!reader
the instagram story was subtle enough. or, at least, so you thought.
ollie didn't seem to agree.
it was a video of you in the newly bought sundress you'd decided to wear to the sprint race today; twirling around in your hotel room, the geotag of "silverstone circuit" in the top right corner. but none of this is what ollie cares about: it's the choice of background music.
they say home is where the heart is, but god i love the english. you know i love a london boy…
the poor boy nearly had a heart attack when he saw it in the paddock. he thought it was super obvious; "i love a london boy" could only mean one thing.
your relationship with ollie is still secret from everyone, including your brother, to ensure that people won't get involved in your private business. besides, once the news is out even in just the racing world, you know it will spread and get big in no time; that's the way it usually is with formula drivers. especially fan-favorites like ollie. so, for the moment, you've decided to just enjoy wherever this takes you, without caring what anyone else thinks. but now, he's scared you've blown it.
your instagram account is on private, so you aren't afraid of fans snooping around and seeing it. but still, it worries ollie; your brother follows you, and that is much worse than fans, he reckons. when you first started going out, you thought it would be natural to tell your twin brother about it, considering the fact that ollie is one of his best friends – but ollie disagreed. the whole dating your best friend's sibling-thing never went well in the movies, and that's all he had to go after.
the song echoes in his brain all morning. during the driver meeting, his pre-race briefings, even as he watches the f3 sprint. he likes my american smile like a child when our eyes meet; darling, i fancy you. all morning leading up to the race, he's distracted and can't think of anything else, though his mechanics and engineers think he's just focused on the race ahead of him. ollie needs some kind of closure, and it isn't until he spots you walking down the f2 paddock that he finds an opportunity.
it's not long before ollie is supposed to get into his car that he sees you on your way to the dams garage. the sundress you showed off in your instagram story looks even better in the real world, and he can't help but swoon at the sight of your smile lighting up the paddock just as much as the sun. he snaps out of it just in time, because when you walk past the prema garage, he swoops out and grabs your wrist, pulling you in.
"ollie-" is all you can get out because now he's pulling you along with him so fast that you can barely even keep up. you manage to nod and greet a few of the prema workers on your way – most people recognize you as jak's sister since you spent a lot of time in the paddock with them last year – but soon, ollie has managed to find you a secluded corner far in the back with no one around.
you rest one hand on his shoulder as you try to catch your breath, looking up at your boyfriend with pinched eyebrows. "you..." he starts, letting out a sigh. "your story on instagram..."
"what about it?"
you weren't usually one to tease him, so he assumes you are actually sincere in your current confusion. the thought of your story may have been etched into his mind for the last few hours and the reason behind his displeasure might be totally clear in his head – but you never were one to read thoughts, which he sometimes forgets. "jak is going to know."
you don't look any less confused by now, which makes ollie feel even more impatient. "why would he know?"
"the song choice. london boy, really? it's so obvious." he pauses for a moment. "you can't do that."
his words are meant as a warning, but the smile on his lips tells a whole other story. no matter how scared he is that your brother will find out that you've been hiding this relationship from him, he can't stop himself from finding it just a bit amusing. and with the way that you're still watching him with such an innocent look and your other hand is also reaching for his shoulder, there's no way he can hold back a grin.
"sweetheart, it's one of the most popular songs out right now. in the entire world. no one will even bat an eye. plus," you tilt your head. "i'm an american girl in england, so london boy is an obvious choice."
"you could've chosen so many other songs about england, but you had to choose that one?"
the chuckle leaves your throat instantly. "you're not even a london boy, ollie."
he knows he's lost. he knows he's just worrying about nothing, he knows there's a much bigger risk that someone finds out about you being here with him in the prema garage than jak connecting the dots from just your story. but he can't give up just yet.
"i'll forgive you. but on one condition," he says, and you immediately nod at him. "give me a kiss. for good luck."
there's not even a second of hesitation before you get onto your tippy toes, reaching up to him. your lips are pressed onto his once, then twice, then thrice. you're both smiling into it, and his hands cup your cheeks, holding you close when you part for the last time.
"you know," he starts, thumbs drawing circles into your cheeks. "i fancy you."
the giggle that leaves your lips is like music to his ears. did he actually study the song? "oh, oliver," you say, trying to pull off your most british accent. "darling, i fancy you, too."
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ann-ann-alan · 2 months
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Angel Dust x Satan!M!Reader
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Word count: ~1.6K
TW: Talk about what Valentino has done to Angel Dust. Angel and Val's extremely toxic relationship.
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Angel's eyes flapped open slowly as the light shined through the curtains of his room at the hotel. For once in his afterlife he felt well rested. He felt so safe and warm cuddling up to his new boyfriend. If only Valentino could be this nice. Valentino. Angel's mind began racing at the thought of his cruel boss, a man that had made him suffer so much, and he would have to go back to him today. Every day until the end of time, or until Angel died. Again.
"Stop thinking about Val." You said as you pat the top of your boyfriend's head. "He's not here. I am. You're safe with me, you know that right?" Angel felt your hands on his face, lightly caressing him, so soft, so caring. "Of course I trust you."
"Good" You kissed him deeply as you swiftly picked him up bridal style. He let out a little squeak at your actions. "Don't worry my little divine being, I won't drop you."
You suddenly turned into a smaller man. A man named Saturn. That's the fake name you had gone for as it was kind of close to your real one. No one could know you were Satan. What would happen if it was revealed that the most powerful of hells beings, second only to Lucifer himself, was staying at a hotel for redemption and was dating a sinner? Hell would be chaos, well, more than it already is anyway.
"I love Saturn and all, but I really wish I could see your real face more often." Angel presses a light kiss to your cheek. "I do too honey, I really wish I could be myself but you know what could happen if people found out about us. It could get real dangerous."
----------------->
You and Angel walked down the steps of the hotel towards the bar where Husk was cleaning glasses.
You and Angel sat on the stools at the bar. As he was rabbling on you couldn't stop yourself from staring at him. His pretty face, beautiful hair, big eyes, and that cute little chest fluff. He was perfect. If only you could truly be with him.
Your train of thought gets interrupted by Angel's phone going off. "Guess I got to get to work." He stared down at his phone sadly, defeated. "Bye Sweetums." He kisses your forehead and heads for the door.
"You really hate Val don't you?" Husk utters, wiping a shot glass down. "What makes you say that?" "Your claws are out and you're ruining my counter." You look down to see both your hands ripping into the counters wood. "Oh sorry. I just- I hate him." Your eyes glowed red. You wished you could rip the head off that disgusting moth. There's nothing wrong with lust (you are good friends with Asmodeus) as long as it's consensual. And Val was anything but.
"Why do you care so much? Angel's just a fling." Husk said starring at your enraged state. "What no! I- well- I- I love him ok?! And I can't keep seeing Val rip my boyfriend apart over and over again!" You love him. You just said it. Husk stared at you with a knowing smirk. "Look, I get you love him and you want to keep him safe but there ain't nothing you can do about a soul contract. He's stuck with Val. Forever." Husk frowned, of course he knew about deals with souls, he made one.
Suddenly an idea comes into your brain. "But what if the contract was broken?" Husk looked at you strangely. "There ain't no way to break a soul contract." "But what is they could be? Would that free him? Would he truly be safe?" You muttered more to yourself then Husk. "Well yeah? But like I said, there ain't no wa-" You put your hand over his mouth. "But what if I could do it? What if I could break the contract?"
"You can't."
"But what if I could?"
"You can't"
"But what if I could?"
"You ca- YOU CAN NOT! Soul contracts don't just break, they just don't. It's better to just give up now."
You could do it. I mean, you're LITERAL SATAN. YOU are the contractor. All soul contracts get run by you. That's your job. You remember when you first came across Angel's contract. You thought nothing of it, just another hopeless sinner who needed a job. Just another hopeless sinner you were now deeply in love with. You could do it. If Valentino willingly showed you Angel's contract, it was over. One touch and the contract would be gone, reduced to ashes and Angel would be free. But everyone would know who you really are. Only one person could break contracts, only one. Satan. Your reputation would be tarnished.
But you would do ANYTHING for the one you love.
----------------->
Angel was tired, he had already filmed three intense scenes and Val only wanted more, just like always.
"Alright my little Angel, you'll be filming one more scene and then you'll come to my office ok?"
Oh god not his office, never his office. Angel couldn't count the amount of unhappy memories he's had in that office. Angel wanted his boyfriend, his real boyfriend, not Val.
"Is there a problem Angel Dust?" Val sneered. "No, no, not at all Val, everything's fine." "Alright then, why wait? Let's go to my office now."
Panic hit Angel like a truck. "Wait now?! I thought I had another scene to film?!" Angel was almost hyperventilating. He couldn't go in there with Val, he couldn't. Not again.
"You said there was no problem. Let's GO!" Val roughly grabs Angels arm and yanks it towards him. "You better behave Ang, you wouldn't want to hurt my feelings would you?" Val looked at him with a disturbing smile. Angel looked into those bright red bug eyes, he was scared, really scared. Scared just like he was when Val made that deal with him.
"Excuse me." Val and Angel looked to the side and found you standing there. "Sata-Saturn what are you doing here?" Angel says. "You know this guy?" Val released Angels wrist and walked towards you. "I'm Val, well you definitely already know me so... Angel said your name was what, Saturn? That's quite a strange name for a sinner." Val held his hand out for you to shake, you just starred at it with your arms crossed. "Well, um, you must be here for a job right? Angel must of told you about me!" Val said as he retracted his hand. "I actually came here because I wanted to take my boyfriend back home."
"What in the hell are you doing?!" Angel whispered to you as he held your arm, almost trying to hide from Val. Valentino noticed this. "Your HIS boyfriend? MY Angels boyfriend? That's a funny joke." Val said almost as a threat, 'it better be a joke.'
"Oh it's no joke. And Angel isn't yours." You stood protectively in front of him. "Oh! But he is. He is MINE. FOREVER." Val says, starting to get angry.
"Baby, you should go..." Angel said from behind you, clutching the back of your shirt with all his hands.
"Yeah, you should listen to him Saturn." Val smirked down at you.
"Let me see it." You utter, holding your hand out in front of you.
"See what?" Val crosses his arms and sneers at you. Looking at you up and down. Judging.
"Let me see the contract that has Angel tied to you. One look at it and I'll leave you alone, forever. You have my word."
Val looks at you suspiciously. "Sure, whatever." He makes the contract apear right in front of you.
You reach out for it and pretend to read over it, but all you could really stare at was the signature at the bottom.
"Well?! Are you happy know? LEAVE!" Val says. He was getting angry. His little play thing had a boyfriend? Who was interrupting his job? What a little BRAT!
"Actually.... I was thinking something a little.... different." Suddenly the contract set ablaze in blue fire, the paper disintegrating.
"WHAT?!?" Val stepped back. HOW?! How was that possible?! How could you do tha- "You're not REALLY named Saturn are you?"
Val could barely get that sentence out before you pushed him to the ground. "You are a pest Valentino. And I'm not afraid to CRUSH you."
Your eyes turned beep red, you gained back your height, long red horns like a ram came out of your head.
"YOU stay AWAY from MY BOYFRIEND! If I EVER see you near him again, you will see the full strength of wrath, you disgusting bug!"
Val stares at you in fear, laying on his elbows, tying to crawl away from you.
"Whoa, whoa! Don't kill 'im baby!" Angel set his hand on your shoulder. Looking back at him all you could see was the man you loved. The FREE man you loved.
"Lets get out of here."
---------------->
"You sure that was a good idea? People know who you are now." Angel said, cuddling into your side as you both sat on the hill of the Hazbin Hotel, looking over the rest of hell.
"That's ok with me. You mean more to me than some stupid reputation I barely cared about in the first place." You pressed both your hands to the sides of his face. "No matter what happens I will always be there with you. Through Earth, Hell, Hay! Even heaven if Charlie's plan works out!" You plant a gentle kiss to his lips.
"I love you for eternity my darling."
"I love you too big guy."
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fellthemarvelous · 4 months
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Holy forking shirtballs
I'm choosing violence today. I started this on Twitter, but I'm going to finish my thoughts here like I always do.
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But what really blows my mind the most is the way that people look at Aziraphale's "choice" at the end, as if he had one to fucking begin with.
I'm sorry, but Aziraphale knows how messed up Heaven is. He told The Metatron, more than once, that he did not want to go back to Heaven! We can debate what each of us means by "choice" all night because my "choice" and your "choice" might be two different concepts. He could have been strong armed by The Metatron or he could have looked at where things were headed and realized he had no choice but to intervene himself.
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You need to ask yourself what Aziraphale has a moral imperative to do.
What do we owe to each other?
Seriously, if you have not watched The Good Place, I recommend you go and watch it, because it absolutely shaped how I've viewed Good Omens 2 since its release.
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My levels of frustration with the bad faith mischaracterizations of Aziraphale are off the charts. If you are blaming him for everything, implying that he should have to grovel and that Crowley has a right to hurt him back, you have missed the point of Good Omens entirely.
I defend Aziraphale, but I don't think one of them is more right or wrong than the other. They're equals. They're a group of the two of them, acting and reacting to each other throughout history. They're Alpha Centauri.
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I cannot even begin to explain how fucking devastated I felt when Crowley said these words, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. What he said took a lot of courage because he's finally admitting something they've both been too scared to publicly define for 6,000 years. Crowley has had to spend so long with a rough outer shell because he fell and had to hide all of his softness.
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The look on his face was one of pure joy when he created that nebula, but I think the fact that he got to share that moment with Aziraphale is what has always stuck with him.
So yeah, seeing Crowley with a broken heart at the end of "Every Day" was sad for me as well.
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My brain still lives here!!
But Neil has said that Good Omens 3 is not quiet, gentle, or romantic. I imagine it's going to be more like the the first season in which they are not central to the plot. GO2 will help us make sense of how they ended up where they are when we see the bigger picture with all the other major players involved with GO3.
Aziraphale was still a soldier and accidentally got himself discorporated in his own magic circle in season one. He had a platoon waiting on him to start Armageddon, and he deserted them to go save the world with Crowley instead. Aziraphale is a deserter. I need everyone to remember that. He yeeted himself out of Heaven and sought out Crowley before even locating a body just to warn him about what was happening so they could try to save the world together.
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I can't help but think of 1941 and that magician who had been arrested for being a deserter.
Aziraphale disobeyed orders. That took courage but it branded him as a traitor against Heaven. They tried to destroy him for it the same way Hell tried to destroy Crowley for his part in stopping the war.
Aziraphale and Job are the only characters we have seen interacting with God directly. Aziraphale has spoken to God before and he is determined to do so again.
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Aziraphale knows Heaven is flawed, but he also knows it's supposed to be good. He wants it to be good. He does not like the way the system works and he wants to make a difference. (And I'm pretty sure he's also determined to talk to God without being intercepted by The Metatron.)
Since when is that a bad thing? I don't get it. And I've had this discussion before.
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If you need to change the system by burning the old one to the ground, it's still change, and we don't know what Aziraphale has planned.
It seems to me that people just want to see Aziraphale fail because it would punish him for returning to Heaven instead of running off with Crowley.
Some of y'all take everything Aziraphale says or does and twist those things into malicious anti-Crowley actions because you think the only reason Aziraphale exists is to make Crowley happy, and if he isn't thinking only about Crowley then he's doing something wrong.
Aziraphale does not exist as a plot device to further Crowley's character. They come as a pair. They've been learning from each other for 6,000 years. Crowley challenges Aziraphale just as much as Aziraphale challenges him.
You can be mad at Aziraphale all you want, but villainizing him is gross. Defending Crowley does not mean you have to tear down and mischaracterize Aziraphale anymore than defending Aziraphale means you have to tear down Crowley (but I don't see that happen on nearly the same level it happens to Aziraphale). Stop painting Aziraphale as an abusive partner, for fuck sake.
Aziraphale knows there are flaws in the system. He wants to make a difference, and since he has seen that Gabriel can change, then maybe the whole system can. He has to at least try, and if he can succeed then maybe he and Crowley can stop hiding and finally be together without having to look over their shoulders all the time.
Why is that a bad thing? He's just as protective of Crowley as Crowley is of him!
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But don't forget that Aziraphale's wing was covering Adam and Eve too. As much as a wants to protect Crowley, he has a moral imperative to keep humanity safe as well.
He sent Adam and Eve into the unknown with a flaming sword so they could protect themselves.
As much as he wants to be with Crowley, there are 8 billion people on Earth heading toward the Second Coming and Judgment Day. They'll work together to fight alongside humanity in the end. Aziraphale should not have to humiliate himself just to earn Crowley's forgiveness. That's a rancid notion.
The Resurrectionist was a whole ass moral dilemma for Aziraphale, which is why I brought up The Good Place earlier, but that's a post for a different time.
Aziraphale has his own motivations and they're just as important as Crowley's, and they don't have to be chalked up to Aziraphale being the bad guy. Weird, I know, but shades of grey.
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"To the world."
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wasteddmoondust · 5 months
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an old diary || remus lupin
pairing: remus lupin x reader 812 words, fluff, remus finds your old diary from this request! a/n: i twisted the request just a teeny bit away from what you might have been expecting. but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! this was so fun to write and the scenario is just too cute hehe
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"Hey, Remus?" He hears your voice call from the library . "When you're free, do you think you can help me organise the storage room? There's a load of books from years ago that I need sorted."
Remus doesn't even hesitate on his answer, he knows he'll do anything for you. The both of you have stuck close since your school days, and took care of each other through the war. He feels forever indebted to you especially for that.
And that's how he finds himself in said storage room, the musty smell of yellowing paper wafting around him.
He scans the stacks of books. There's not many, compared to the rest of the library at least. This should just take the afternoon.
He starts to sort each stack, slowly making a system in his brain on how to tackle this task. But as he's on this third pile. a glimmer catches his eye, and he turns towards the direction of it. Underneath a pile, something familiar is sticking out, but he just can't put his finger on it.
He decides to abandon whatever task he was supposed to do and reaches for the book. Carefully, he slides it out of the stack.
The name on the book knocks his breath.
Y/N L/N, 1977.
That's what is was, your old diary from seventh year.
Remus finds himself frozen. That year was wild, to say the least. The bittersweetness of his final year, relishing of how much youth him and his had left. But mostly, it was the prelude to most of the pain he would experience in his life. This book is holding whatever you were feeling in those days.
He knows he shouldn't peek.
He flips the book open to a random page.
15 September, 1977 Today we went out to the lake, and I realised no words can describe the amount of love I have for my friends. To my dearest girls, Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Alice. I hope we are never too far apart. We shall grow old together gossip even as we do now.
Remus' heart swells at the sentiment, knowing each of the mentioned girls' fates. He flips to other pages, which mostly are written about the daily life of a Hogwarts student. However, a glimpse of his own name gets his attention. He stops to read the page.
25 January, 1978 Remus Lupin. Oh the man that you are. You and your stupid jumpers and stupid books and stupid tea you take with milk and two sugars. What I find the most stupid is the way you treat me. It makes me question who I am to you. Your friend? Maybe more? I can only dream. I don't think you'll ever see me that way. I'm perfectly happy where we are as friends. But somehow if I get even the slightest chance I will be taking it. Even if it comes ten years from now.
He's stunned, to say the least. He never knew you harboured these feelings back then, and wonders if you still had them now.
It's funnier especially when after all this time he never found a way to say he has those feelings too.
He knows what he should do. There's a newfound feeling of courage and bravery in him, and quickly finishes his tasks before you leave the library for the day.
"Oh, done already?" you ask, packing your work bag before leaving. "That was quick. Did you have much trouble?"
"No, not at all. Found some pretty good things in there," he says, trying to act casual. He hides the diary behind his back.
"Really? Do tell."
He pulls out the book from behind. You gasp.
"No way!" You grab it from his hold. "That was in there the entire time?"
"Mhm, I took a peak, if you don't mind," He says.
You furrow your brows. "You did?"
He nods slowly.
"And what did you read...?" you ask. He knows that you know what was written in that diary.
He shrugs. "Let's just say..." he looks around avoiding eye contact. "You said ten years, and it's been fifteen. So would you still?"
You frown, but you know exactly what he's talking about. "Still what?"
"Take the chance?"
You groan and cover your face, feeling your cheeks heat up. You hear Remus chuckle. "So is that a yes?"
Your hands leave your face, showing a pout. "I can't believe you read that!" you swat him playfully. "But yes... I would..."
"Brilliant," he says, smoothing your hair down and smiling at you.
"Now what?" you ask. You mentally kick yourself for asking such a question.
Remus grins, the same grin you've grown to love over the years. "I'd like to kiss you now, if it's alright with you."
The both of you lean in. In the library after fifteen years, he's finally yours.
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mintmatcha · 6 months
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cw: a weird vent piece lol, suicide mention, no quirks au, mentally ill reader
You always fuck with your shirt on. You'd wear more, if you could, but you haven't figured out how to do it with your pants on yet.
You pull the sheets over your sweat chilled legs and hope he didn't notice the spots you missed shaving. If he did, Natsuo doesn't seem to mind. His arm is tucked under your head, muscle fibers occasionally twitching underneath you and turning the soft mass dense.
Sometimes, Natsuo keeps his shirt on too. Neither of you have ever asked the other about it; there's a mutual understanding when a hand is stopped.
"Do you work tonight?" he asks.
You shake your head as his body relaxes deeper into the mattress.
"I'm gonna do laundry if you want to throw your stuff in," he mumbles, "I'll get you junk to sleep in."
The medical textbooks he was studying are still on the floor, flipped to random pages of different cycles and tissues, abandoned in exchange for you. If Natsuo fails his midterms, it'll be your fault. If he passes, he'll be leaving the city next semester for his hospital rotations.
Part of you wants him to fail. It's that dirty, evil part that no one else seems to have, the part you try to starve, but it keeps growing anyway. It nips at you whenever the room gets too quiet.
It's teeth are extra sharp today.
"You're so sweet." You speak into his skin, "I don't know how you're still single."
A sharp inhale is sucked through his teeth, cutting through his smile. Natsuo takes in all of your features and you know he's wondering why you're saying these things-- why you're purposefully bringing this up.
"Well, sweetie-" His tone is light, like he's avoiding stepping on glass, stepping on glass. With every word, he walks his fingers on your arm, spanning from elbow to shoulder, "I'm only single because you keep turning me down."
The overhead fan whizzes. The part you try to starve sinks its teeth into your chest.
"Natsuo, we've talked about this," you say, "I don't date."
You sit up and swing a leg over him, straddling his hips. A trail of white hair runs down his stomach and down under the sheets, disappearing where the two of you meet. He holds you by the hem of your tee, just tight enough to hold you in place.
"Would it be so bad?" he whispers.
"Here's what would happen, alright?" You brush your fingers through his sweat touched hair and it bounces right back into place the second you pull away. It makes you giggle a bit and he mirrors you, an unsure, foolish optimism in his eyes, "Let's just say I met this wonderful, beautiful boy and tricked-"
"Tricked?" he scoffs.
"Tricked him into loving me." You want to kiss him, but it feels cruel for both of you. Instead, you just cup his jaw in your hands and cradle him, letting the weight of him slump into your palms, "He'd treat me right and bring me home to meet his parents, 'cause he was raised right and, even though he's really smart, he'd think he's in love."
Fingers squeeze at your hips.
"But the second I left, his parents would tell him that he deserves someone prettier and smarter and, and, and better," you say, "And they'd be right."
“My mom’s nice," He drops your pretense with a whisper, ruining your not so careful charade. “She wouldn’t say that.”
He doesn’t mention his dad. There’s a silent sentence there. One that says, “But he might.” It’s hard to keep your brain from sticking to that point, from sticking your thumb into this metaphorical soft spot.
“I mean, she wouldn’t say it out loud, but she’d think it," you say, “She’d sit there and think ‘that girl's not good enough for my son' and she'd be right."
He scoff he lets out is uneasy, almost a songed laugh, more pained than annoyed. "My mom is nice."
This conversation is hurting him, but you can't stop yourself.
"And they'd tell you to break up with me, but you wouldn't listen to them, 'cause you're head strong like that. You'd probably date me in spite of them for while," you ramble, "But then you'd go away and you'd meet some pretty, normal girl and you'd realize they were right. They were always right. I was right."
The overhead fan whizzes.
"So, it's better if I just don't date at all,"
Natsuo's grip dissolves and you think you see it then - the moment whatever is between you dies. A hollowness passes over his features, empty eyes and sucked cheeks, as he ducks his head down to rest his face against your chest. Chin against the soft of your tits, he seems farther away than ever.
You could gloat. You could cry. You're a self-fulfilling prophecy once again.
Natsuo sighs and his words slip so easily from him that you almost don't process what he's saying. "You're so sad. I wish you'd get help."
That catches you off guard. The control over this conversation is ripped away, your curtain drops, and you suddenly feel very, horribly seen.
"What?" You try to laugh it off, leaning back to escape the way he watches you.
"Sometimes I wake up and you're not here," he says, "And I worry that's the last time I'll ever see you."
You understand the implication.
"I'm not gonna kill myself." It might be the truth, you think.
"Yeah," His arms wrap around your waist again, snaking the air from your lungs, "Touya promised me that too."
Touya is only ever mentioned over too many beers and tears you're not allowed to remember the next morning. He was only 16, only a couple years older than Natsuo, but the ghosts still linger to this day, always tucked into the back of the room, stalking, haunting.
Natsuo comes from money and fame. His apartment is paid for by his father. He's never had to work to afford food. At first, you resented him for that; you wanted that ease and safety his family afforded him.
But everything comes at a cost. Every unhappy family is unhappy in there own ways.
"I'm sorry that you keep loving things that break." That is the truth. You're just the end of a line of his mistakes, starting all the way at mom and dad and trailing through every girlfriend ever since.
"I do love you. And it's not despite the fact you're 'broken'," Natsuo takes your hand with a resounding firmness. It reminds you of that thing they say about golden retrievers; the smart ones can hold an egg in their jaws without shattering the shell. Natsuo holds you like he understands you in some deep, intrinsic way, "Or because of it or whatever."
He doesn't look away, those bright, wide eyes bluer than ever.
"I just like all your little pieces." He kisses your knuckles one by one, trailing from thumb to pinkie to thumb again.
The room is silent. The bad part of you is no longer begging to eat. Maybe it's full for now, but you know it's just out of focus, stalking in the dark, biding its time.
"You should study." You slip from him and reclaim your own space in the bed. After a long, simple pause, Natsuo gets up himself, collecting his boxers from the floor.
"Yeah," he says, "You're right."
The hurt you've caused is no longer comfortable to live in. Your mouth is dry, thirsty for a change you're not sure how to make. Recovery feels like a big leap-- loving and being loved feels every farther away.
All you can do is shuffle your feet against the sheets and take the tiniest step towards normalcy.
"Do you want to get brunch tomorrow before your classes?" you offer your olive branch, your silent promise, "I'll pay."
He weighs this, measuring it for sincerity, then smiles just wide enough your get a glimpse of teeth.
"Let me get you something to sleep in."
For now, it's enough.
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death-threats · 1 year
Text
Some reactions to Ace, Law, and Kid hearing you say;
"I fucking hate you! Stop looking at me all sexy."
gender neutral reader!
CW: suggestive themes
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Ace:
Caught completely off guard
He'd been teasing and flirting with you all day
But he didn't really know how bad it had gotten to you
"You don't mean that, do you?" His dark brows knit together in concern. He thought he was just innocently teasing you but maybe he'd gone too far? He knew he didn't have much of a filter when it came to flirting but now he was really doubting himself.
You sigh. “Of course not. But you’re still looking at me like that and it’s making me feel all…weird.” He smirks at that. That little shit knew exactly what he was doing and the effect it had on you. Ace leans closer to you, one hand in his pocket, the other on your hip. You wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin right off of his sexy face.
“Oh yeah? Tell me more about this weird feeling. Maybe I can make you feel better.” He suggested, his lithe fingers now dancing along the swell of your hip. If you could melt into a puddle just by the look he gave you, you would. Stupid sexy Ace.
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Law:
Looks at you with a blank stare
How could he look at something all sexy?
He’s just existing and his brain is working overtime trying to figure out what the hell that means
Law just narrows his eyes in thought and looks at you. “Hate is a strong word, Y/N-ya. Would you like to talk about why you’re feeling like this?” Your features fell and you were almost at a loss for words. You blinked a couple of times and cleared your throat, a little embarrassed at your small outburst.
“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I guess I’m just a little frustrated because…well, because you’re you and you’re looking at me with those fucking eyes. I don’t know how else to explain it.” The surgeon nods slowly, seeming to comprehend where you’re coming from.
“I think I understand now." He took his hand in yours and kissed your knuckles. "Next time, be more straightforward. I want to make sure you're always happy with me."
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Kid:
You have just fallen for his trap card
HOOOOO lord, he could almost fuckin' tap dance with joy
Kid LOVES riling you up, I tell you hwat
"Wanna run that by me again?" The redhead questioned, looking down his nose at you. You feel like a rabbit cornered by a fox. You know you didn't do anything wrong, but you were second-guessing yourself. Kid had been stealing glances and purposefully bumping his knee against yours as you sat through yet another boring alliance meeting.
You swallowed thickly. You knew the type of man your captain was and you'd never been a victim of his anger before. "I-I just..." you were cut off before you could continue, Kid barking out a laugh.
"You were able to say ya fuckin' hated me with your whole chest, yet ya can't even explain yourself when asked." His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. "As your captain, it's my job to teach you some respect." He grabbed you by the wrist with his flesh hand, but his grip wasn't malicious. "I'll even let you choose your punishment, 'cause I'm feelin' nice today."
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evilminji · 7 months
Text
Can You "Accidental Baby Acquisition" Yourself?
Like? Say you have a You... who is NOT You, obviously, but A You in the Multiversal sense... and their childhood suuuuuucked. Just? Truely awful for reasons beyond their control.
Such as the veil NOT being so easily peirced in their reality and humanity a bit more... Reactive(tm) to ectoplasm, due to the lower concentration of it in the Everything of their Universe. Which makes their parents research? Unattainable. Dangerous.
Ultimately fatal to their elder sister.
And then later, them.
Not that they were even the loving if wildly eccentric parents most of the other You's KNOW and have. Due to that very say research and their long-term exposure to their own samples. The Reactivity.
"Pit Rage" as some circles call it.
They weren't themselves. Stopped BEING themselves long before their children ever came into the picture. If they could think clearly, they would BEG for someone to save their children. From them. From their house of horrors. From what they've become.
And well? You exsist outside of Time. In the Zone. Maybe you have a wide and crazy adventure with this grizzled, worn, badass of a You. Figure he's pretty cool. Ask if he needs anything. And he laughs this broken glass in your chest sort of sound and says:
"Not unless you could give me a real childhood."
Like? Dude. Buddy. My buddy dude. Gonna have to explain that one. You can't just drop that and walk away. We Crazy Action Bros Adventure(tm) bonded. You can tell me. And reluctantly... he kinda does.
And... Look. You exsist outside of TIME. Your mentor IS Time. You can TOTALLY do that.
This.
But like? You realize... there wouldn't be TWO of you... right? If you take mini-Bamf out of the timestream at point A... you, big guy, stop existing at every instance of point B and onwards.
Yeah. Yeah, he gets that. Fully consents. His life was full of bad decisions and dramatic bullshit. He wants a real childhood. His sister back. Wants them BOTH out of that house and somewhere safe. If he could do it himself, he would. Call it his fucked up way of healing. Finally facing his trauma. It's haunted him long enough.
.....well then. Now You've got a baby and a fussy toddler. They have superpowers because of course they do. That house was OSHAs waking nightmares and deepest fever dreams. Jazzypants is hungy. And baby You did a stinky.
This is Fine(tm).
You're a King! You can TOTALLY handle this! Teeeeeemporarily. Since it's not like they can stay HERE. The Zone is literally uninhabitable long term for the living. So time to fire up the ol Brain Meats. Gremlin Ideas formulating. Loading... Loading... Loooooooading. Got it!
You kidnapped them.
Brilliant! FRIGHTY! Where's the Trenchcoat Booze Slu-...SLUHeuth. Sleuth! Totally what I was planning to say, Starshines! Don't curse. Cursing Bad~☆
The Detective Of Loose Morales in The Trenchcoat, who's Soul I Own, Frighty! Where's he at?? *Distant muffled answer* Close enough! Time to give him a heart attack! And throw a fight! Can you toss me a nightmare medallion? I need to instill mortal terror! Thaaaanks, Frighty! Also can you change diapers? *affirmative noises* Ancients, you're the best.
Smash cut to John Constantine. Busting up some cult, as you do. When? Oh fuck. The leaders heading for the store room! Not today, fucker! They fight. They struggle. It's Manly and Gritty and dramatic! When?
A terrible CRASH. Some artifact must have activated. What... have you DONE? *dramatic musical sting* swirling green and DEATH radiates out from a pin prick of nothing. A black hole in reverse. The cold oblivion of space, given bones to claw its way free. Eyes that sear in colors too technicolor and hypersaturated to be mortal. Green. Green! GREEN.
Ice and stars and death and a terrible, unspeakable Crown.
Two... two little sprogs. Tiny bits of nothing in a monsters hand. KIDS, wrapped up in something they never should of even had to nightmare about. John's eyes catch on red, red hair. A tiny little headband with butterflies on it. Pressed so close to dark locks, as she wraps herself around her little bits of a sibling.
The other ones dressed up in stars.
Someone SOLD their fuckin KIDS. Or this damned this STOLE them. It doesn't matter. Not now, not to John. Because this bastard isn't keeping them. He slides like breathing into the waves of luck and chance, odds and fate. Is on his feet and drawing attention. Whatever it takes, he's leaving here with those kids.
He laughs and it's not a kind one.
"Oi! A word if you will?"
@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @ailithnight
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cerezagyaru · 7 months
Text
So today's freminet birthday enrnfjfjr since his release I always look at Pers (the little penguin) and I can't stop thinking about furbys jdjfjt
If you know me, I'm obsessed with furbys since little fjjdjt, so I can understand how he is attached to Pers :"))
🫧🩵So there's no trigger warning for today ^__^ just a lot of fluff (? :P By the way, this is sagau au! And a little oc(??🫧🩵
(Again, my English is not the best :"D) (if you don't feel comfortable with furbys jwjrnt just don't read this :"D)
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Since freminet joined your team, you become close with freminet to the point where he's not feeling uncomfortable or like he's bothering you.
Sometimes, he caught you looking at Pers. Of course, he was a little shy at first, but with time, he felt how you actually weren't making fun of him or Pers, so one day reading his history and listening to his voice-lines you smiled at him, you get up to search for something.
He was a little confused about why you left, but when you came back, you had something in your hands -" You know, since you joined the team, I understand you on how you are close to Pers.. so I wanted to show you my baby!"- baby?! He was actually thinking you had a baby, but when you showed him a little ball of fur with ears and a tail, he was surprised.
-"you know.. Pers reminds me of my furbys.. the way you are close to him, how you fixed him, how important it is to you.. I feel the same with my babies.." - he was surprised by how you see yourself on him and Pers, actually he was happy! Usually, people think he was weird for having Pers.. but see how you actually understand him and feel comfortable with showing him your little friend.. he felt really blessed.. and how it's true on how the others said about you.. he truly felt blessed.. for having this opportunity..
You see how he's usually serious face changes to a happy one. You were taking by surprise thinking it was a glitch, but you noticed how he was smiling until you logged off from the game..
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🫧🩵 I didn't specify what type of furby you had :P For example, I love 2012 furbys, but maybe yours are 1998 or even 2005 :P jejtkt well, my brain can think anything now bye :P 🫧🩵
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Text
Sweetest Dreams || B.Barnes - Part 4
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Character: mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Finally, it's the right time with the right person. ❤️
Warning: Kidnapped, tortured (only a small part)
Part 1: Echoes Of Revenge
Part 2: Shattered Echoes
Part 3: All The Lies
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 
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"This is fucked up. Where am I?" Y/N's thoughts echoed in the disorienting haze surrounding her.
Ivan, the orchestrator of her current predicament, stood menacingly before her, a cruel grin etched across his face. "You should blame yourself for being in this condition," he sneered.
Y/N, still grappling with the fog in her mind, pressed for answers. "Where am I?"
Ivan, relishing in his control, delivered the chilling truth. "A hangout place for drug addicts. So if you don't listen to me, the next morning the police will find your body. Overdose."
‘Shit.’ Panic surged within Y/N as she scanned her surroundings, her eyes landing on a lone door – a potential lifeline out of this nightmare.
“Stop thinking about escaping.” Ivan's fingers dug into her chin, forcing her to meet his menacing gaze. “To be honest, I don't want to kill you. Because I need your brain to make money.”
Y/N, defiance burning in her eyes, said, “You think I will agree?”
Ivan leaned in, his breath sending a cold shiver down her spine. “You have to. After you make me bankrupt, I've gained a lot of enemies – elite people who invested their money in the company. And they want their money back.”
“So, you want to return the money to high-influence people rather than those with low income?” Y/N's disdain dripped from her words, her body language betraying a simmering anger.
Unfazed, Ivan smirked, reveling in the power dynamic. Y/N, unable to contain her disgust, spat on his face in an act of defiance. Undeterred, Ivan scoffed, “Those people are small fish. The most important thing is the big whale.”
Infuriated, Y/N spat on his face again, her eyes ablaze with defiance. “Work again with a mastermind who made thousands of families bankrupt? Fuck no.” She turned her attention to the door, silently calculating the risks and possibilities of escape.
Ivan wiped his face with a cloth, savoring the moment with a sinister satisfaction. "I knew you wouldn't agree, but I'll change your mind," he declared with a dark chuckle.
With a snap of his fingers, the dimly lit place transformed into blinding brightness. Y/N, still disoriented, realized she was tied to an electric chair. Someone approached from behind, forcing a mouthguard into her mouth.
Before she could react, her head was jolted by an electric shock, and a muffled scream escaped through the mouthguard, "Mrghh!" Tears streamed down her face as the searing pain coursed through her.
Ivan, reveling in the torment he was inflicting, taunted, "You've made my life hell for a year, Y/N. Now I want to torture you a bit."
Y/N, in the midst of the excruciating pain, wished for a chance to apologize to Bucky if today was to be her last.
"BAM!"
Ivan, caught off guard, exclaimed in surprise. He had been confident that no one knew about this hidden location. However, he was about to learn the extent of Bucky's knowledge of the town.
Bucky stormed in with a powerful kick to Ivan's face, sending him crashing.
“What the fuck?” Ivan spluttered, struggling to stand.
Bucky's eyes fell on Y/N, tied to the chair and seemingly lifeless. Panic and darkness consumed him for a moment as he approached her. "Y/N?"
He lifted her gently, holding her close. "You can't die. I don't know what to do without you."
“Urggh, I'm still alive, idiot,” Y/N weakly replied. Opening her eyes felt like a daunting task, and she couldn't quite believe that Bucky had come to her rescue.
Bucky, overwhelmed with relief, clenched his teeth. His gaze shifted to Ivan, who was still attempting to rise.
He turned to Steve, who had followed him to save Y/N. “Make sure he never sees the sun again.”
Steve nodded, advancing towards Ivan with a determined expression. He swiftly broke Ivan's arm, eliciting a pained cry. “You messed with the wrong person, pal,” Steve smirked, ensuring Ivan faced the consequences of his malevolent actions.
Bucky cradled Y/N, his eyes reflecting worry, anger, and relief. "I've got you," he whispered, vowing to protect her from any further harm.
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Bucky, keeping a watchful eye on Y/N as she slept in the hospital bed, found himself reflecting on a similar moment from his recent past when he had visited her father.
Her father had looked at him and said, “What a small world.”
Indeed, it was a small world.
Fifteen years ago, Bucky was a teenage boy living alone in a desolate house. His mother had left, and no one bothered with the household chores. His father, Nicholas, was indifferent, unmoved by Bucky's struggles. School was a constant battleground for him, and life seemed monotonous and purposeless.
Then, one day, Bucky noticed his father bringing a guest home. His father never bothered with hospitality, a clue that this visitor wasn't just any guest. It was the first meeting with Y/N's father, a long-time friend of his own father.
Bucky calls him the kind uncle because he worries about Bucky more than his father.
This kind uncle regularly visited, bringing homemade food Bucky gratefully accepted. It was a lifeline in a home where food was scarce.
The kind uncle shared, "I have a daughter your age. I'll bring her next time." However, that promise remained unfulfilled, and it turned out to be the last visit. Bucky later learned that his father had lent the kind uncle money with exorbitant interest, severing their friendship.
It was pivotal for Bucky, revealing the depth of his father's greed and how money could destroy longstanding friendships. The realization left an indelible mark on him, shaping his future goals. Bucky vowed that if he ever became wealthy, he wouldn't burden his friends with the weight of borrowed money.
Then, when he entered university, he met her—the daughter of that kind uncle, Y/N. The revelation brought a sense of purpose to Bucky's life. He witnessed her being taken advantage of by classmates and seniors at the club, prompting him to take a stand and become her shield.
With him by her side, nobody dared to exploit Y/N anymore. Despite her initial annoyance towards him, Bucky saw a cute, angry kitten in her eyes, and teasing her became a daily amusement, injecting excitement into his otherwise mundane university days.
As they transitioned into adulthood, Y/N underwent a transformation. Her style matured, and she exuded newfound confidence, a far cry from her college days, where she often kept her head down.
Bucky enjoyed the challenge when she underestimated him, eventually giving her money because of her work in an investment company. Little did he know that this woman would swiftly elevate him to wealth.
Y/N's unexpected departure left Bucky in a state of confusion. He waited for a month, then three, and finally, six months passed, but she never returned.
The unanswered question lingered: What did he do wrong? His search for her took a year, but when he found her, she revealed that she had used him to rectify his father's mistake, the same father who had caused harm to her own.
Despite the revelation, Bucky didn't care about the past. He just wanted her back. However, Y/N, this stubborn and seemingly heartless woman, refused to yield.
As he watched her sleep, Bucky's hand cradled her cold cheeks. He joined her side, wrapping her in an embrace to ward off the chill. His fingers gently brushed her hair as he stared at the sleeping figure, who had inadvertently disrupted his life since the moment they met.
Bucky didn't harbor hatred; he found perfection in the chaos she brought into his life. The only thing he desired now was for her to wake up and ensure she could never leave him again.
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Y/N blinked, momentarily blinded by the morning light streaming in from the window. The female nurse, noticing her awakening, hurried over to assist Y/N in sitting up.
"My dear, you've woken up? You've been asleep for two days," she informed a hint of concern in her voice. The dryness in Y/N's throat confirmed the duration of her unconsciousness.
Two days – no wonder everything felt hazy. Y/N's attention perked up when the nurse continued, "Rest assured, the bad guy has been taken to the police. Your fiancé has been keeping an eye on you for 24 hours."
'Fiancé?'
Y/N's eyes widened at the unexpected revelation. She hadn't realized she had a fiancé. The sliding door opened, revealing Bucky carrying a bucket of flowers. His face lit up with a warm smile upon seeing Y/N awake. "Babe, you're awake," he greeted cheerfully.
The female nurse couldn't help but giggle at the scene. "Yes, and she's healthy. Aww, so romantic, you bring new flowers today." She grinned at the young couple before making her exit.
Bucky chuckled as he placed the flowers in a vase. Y/N couldn't shake off her surprise. He took a seat beside her, brushing her hair gently. "It's the safest way. If everyone knows that you're my fiancée, no one will dare to kidnap you," he explained matter-of-factly.
He pulled her into a tight hug, their bodies sinking into the hospital bed. "Y/N, please don't go. I don't know what I would do without you," Bucky pleaded, his eyes reflecting the exhaustion from lack of sleep. Y/N's heart ached at the sight of the big man pleading.
She gets closer, kissing his forehead. "I won't go anywhere."
Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, a brilliant smile replacing his earlier plea. Finally, in that small hospital bed with the sterile scent of antiseptic lingering, it didn't matter. Bucky could have the sweetest dreams as long as she was beside him.
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Author Note:
Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!
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Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷
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non-stop-imagines · 9 months
Text
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On Display
From this request 💖
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Black Younger!Reader (10 years difference) (Taylor Russell face claim)
Word Count: ~4.6k words w/ 1 smau post
Warning: Porn with a plot somewhere in there, Dom!Daniel, Brat!Reader, p in v, Exhibitionisn (sex against a window), overstimulation, an attempt at writing dumification, Humiliation, brief breeding kink moment, mention of food, one mention of birth control, The word "slut" being used quite a bit 😵‍💫Minors DNI!!! 18+
A/N: Writing smut is always an adventure and this is no different. The funny thing about this is that I used writing this to destress from work all week so have fun imagining writing this while on my lunch break in the break room 👍🏿. But really, thank you for the request, all of the requests I've done already and the requests I've recently gotten that I can't wait to do. You guys are crazy creative and I love to see what you guys come up with it if literally my favorite. 😁💗 Anyway, hope you guys like this. Let me know what you think. Like, reblogs, reply, send asks, talk to me!♥️ Love you all!! 💖💛💖💛💖
Masterlist
___________________*~♥~*__________________
danielricciardo
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Liked by yukitsunoda0511 and 501,288 others
danielricciardo Yn sent me random pictures of her and then started crying when I didn't immediately post them. I'm such a bad boyfriend 💔
imynbitch tagged
View all 927 comments
imynbitch I stopped crying, didn't I? 😘
> danielricciardo I'll do better in the future
user Yn is That Girl and she just wants everyone to know
yukitsunoda0511 Yeah, you messed up 🤷🏻‍♂️
> imynbitch Thank you, Yuki. I don't know how much longer I can handle such a lack of attention 🥺😔
> danielricciardo Both of you shut up
user All of her looks are so iconic I can't choose which is my fav 😍
user Daniel is the only person that can handle an attitude like YN's. I'm glad they found each other 🥲
___________
 Thursdays were boring when it came to race weekends for you, but you loved to tag along, staying around your boyfriend when you could and hanging out in the Alpha Tauri motorhome or next to a window in the paddock building that had a view of the track, which was where you were today. Both Alpha Tauri drivers were taking some lucky fans for a spin in a Honda, of which you were oblivious and uncaring of the model, around the Silverstone track. You would look up from your phone every once in awhile, whenever you heard the the roar of an engine approaching or squealing wheels, but one fateful time caused you to put your phone face down on the table you sat at and stalk to the large window, close enough to see the atrocity happening. It was the last fan Daniel had to drive around the track, a girl around your age, 24, maybe a bit older, whose hands were all over your boyfriend's arms, and your brain went haywire when Daniel's hand ventured to the girl's lower back, which for him was instinctual as he guided her into the car. You didn't even watch them leave the starting line before you picked up your things (your phone, smaller purse and garage pass) and headed down to the garage, crossing the people filled pitlane and ending at the pit wall, placing your face in a window of the fence without chain link. You wanted to love the smile on Daniel's face when he gets out of the car after his trip around the track and sees you, but your view was interrupted by "her", who meets Daniel halfway at the front of the car, giddily hooking her arm around Daniel's as he walks her your direction.
   "Hey, baby. Uh, this is Jennifer, one of the lucky winners of a trip around the track with me." Daniel unhooks his arm from the brunette, stepping to the side a bit as she greets you.
   "Hi! Ugh, I just love you! You're one of my favorite wags." She holds out her hand for you to shake, and at first you just scowl at the outstretched manicured hand, but after a brief glance at Daniel giving you a stern “What do we say?” look, you take hold of the hand, shaking hers with little to no tension in your hand.
   “Thank you. I, uh, like your nails. They’re my favorite color, light blue." There was absolutely no feeling in your voice, but the compliment you gave was like a diamond ring to Jennifer. You cut your eyes over to Daniel, who gets the hint and begins to lead Jennifer away, that blasted hand on her back, a little higher this time, but still there.
    “How about you head back over to the group? Let them know I’ll be over in a moment. I’ll be sure to get an extra picture with you, okay?” That smile. It flashed only at “her”, and you could see the slut’s knees get weak. You wanted to cry, seeing that flirty demeanor from Daniel that reeled you in day one, but focused toward someone else.
   "Okay! It was so nice meeting you!" She waves back at you, you responding with a constipated grin, before heading towards the group of fans waiting to take pictures with their favorite drivers.
   "Are you okay?" Daniel had an amused grin on his face. This isn't the first time you've acted like this. He knew exactly why you were pouting and had glossy eyes.
   "I'm fine" You refuse to look at him, instead watching as "Jennifer" walked up to a member of the media team, probably to tell them that Daniel would be over in a minute. You knew that one glance at Daniel would send the tears you were currently holding back cascading down your face.
   "You sure?" Daniel reaches to your face poking through the window in the fence, using your chin to turn your face towards his.
   "I said I'm fine!" One tear escaped your eye and was wiped away with Daniel's thumb.
"Okay, okay, baby. I know." He looks at his watch, then over at the group of fans, then back to you. "You head back to the hotel, okay? I'll be done in a couple hours. Make sure you eat something, too." You nod hesitantly at his orders then pucker your lips for him to place a kiss on, which he supplements with another, more tongue involved kiss. When he pulls back he looks at you, eyes shifting back and forth and lips grinning at your still glossy eyes. After one last kiss, this time on your forehead, he finally jogs back over to the group, and though the petty, irrational voice in your head is telling you to stay and keep an eye on "Jennifer" around your man, you follow Daniel's instructions and head back through the garage so you can leave the paddock and head back to the hotel.
_________
   "A couple of hours, my ass." You mumble to yourself as you exit the bathroom of the hotel suite. It's been nearly 4 hours since you left the track, and the nagging explanation that you had for Daniel’s tardiness was Jennifer and the "Fuck me" eyes that you felt she was giving Daniel. You wanted to feel happy when you heard the mechanical click of the hotel door unlocking, and deep down you were, you loved to have your boyfriend around. But instead you stayed planted in the armchair next to the large window.
   "Still mad, huh?" Daniel plants a kiss on the top of your head despite your attempt to move out of the way.
   "Well, huh, I don't know. How would you feel if some slut kept making 'fuck me' eyes at your boyfriend and you had to just watch?" You don't look up from your phone as you rant, tapping through Alpha Tauri's Instagram story getting small glimpses at the slut in question.
   "Really?" Daniel's words came out as a chuckle that irritated you enough to make you get up and stomp over to the bathroom with him.
   "Don't laugh at me! It's like you never take me seriously!" Daniel continues with what he was doing, removing his shoes and placing them in the closet and then removing his shirt to hang it up.
   "I'm laughing because I know you're serious, and it's ridiculous." There's a hysterical laugh behind his words that gives you the impression that he's poking fun at you, which he was, but not in the negative way you thought that prompted tears to your eyes. “Don’t cry.”
   “No, you think it’s ridiculous for me not to want to share my boyfriend!” You whine, stamping your foot on the ground, the childish act finally making Daniel turn around and take hold of your face. You looked pitiful with your cheeks squished and eyes red from your crying tantrum.
   “No one is asking you to share me.” You let out a defiant grunt to his nonchalant response and he shakes your head with the firm grasp he had on your face. “Why would I want to go anywhere else when my dumb, little baby has the best pussy in the world. Only an idiot would give that up.” He finally lets go of your face and walks back into the bedroom, and you just silently follow him out, but stay by the bathroom door. You watch him pace around the front of the bed, frustrated with your attitude, running his hands through messy curly hair, accentuating the tone of his slim, tattooed, bare upper body. “No, don’t shut up now. Where’s all that whining?” You stayed still, pouting and crossing your arms. “Come here.” You follow directions, walking slowly to Daniel, arms still crossed in attempted defiance, knowing that any action of Daniel's, punishment or otherwise, would break down your defenses. You don't know what you expected, but you know the last thing was the tattooed hand at the junction between your neck and your chin, roughly bringing your face up to meet a sensual, sloppy kiss. It was as though you were magnetized to his movements, having no hesitation in accepting the tongue he presented the first kiss, meeting each entanglement and the amount of force transferred between your lips.
   "Look at my sloppy little baby. So eager for me to show her that I only have eyes for her." Daniel moved his hand from your neck to just at your jawline, using his thumb to wipe the residual saliva from your lips and then, from spontaneous thought, pushes his thumb into them, to which you willingly accept the appendage into your mouth, earning a twisted grin from your boyfriend. He just watches as you suck on his thumb, head bobbing slightly as if you were giving him a blowjob. One of your hand begin to move on their own down to Daniel's jeans to unbutton them, but it's captured in his other hand as he removes his thumb from your mouth and smears the spit that you lathered on it along your lips. "Ah ah ah. Whiny little brats don't get to touch their boyfriend's dick." 
   "But-" Daniel uses his grip on your face to bring it back up so he can kiss you again, a light one this time, short in duration that made you lean forward once it was done, aching for more
"No, buts." With one hand on your face and the other grasping the fiendish hand that tried to get into his pants, Daniel takes a step back, admiring your attire. It was simple. A tight, white cami and baggy plaid pajama shorts. But it was what was underneath, or rather what wasn't underneath, that sent him reeling. “You’re not wearing anything underneath this comfy, little ensemble, huh? Did you do that for me?” You don’t answer, just hold the intense eye contact with him, a subtle scowl on your face. In response to your persistent defiance Daniel moves the hand that was on your face back to your neck, applying enough pressure to make your head feel lighter and for you to take a small gasp of air. “Use your words.”
   “Yes. Yes.” You words came out breathless and panicked, to which Daniel removed his hands from your body, satisfied with the small answer you gave.
   “And you called that poor girl a slut.” Daniel chuckles, and you just look at him with scrunched eyebrows, upset at the fact that the girl you were worried about was brought up again.
   "Because she was." You grumbled this to yourself, since Daniel had already made his way to the unobstructed window.
   "Whatever you want to believe, sweetheart." He only partially turned his head back towards you to respond to your rebuttal then turned his attention back to the window. "You think anyone can see us up here?" You shrug and hum your unsureness, making your way over to where Daniel was, standing just behind him.
   "I mean, maybe if they're trying to look. We are pretty high up." You answer quietly. Daniel stays put, looking out of the window, but eventually turns around, that twisted grin back on his face.
   "Good enough." He takes a step towards you and you tilt your head, confused with the implication hidden in those two words. "If I'm gonna show my cute little brat that she's the only one for me, might as well show the world that I only have eyes for you, cutie." Daniel gives you a quick peck between your raised eyebrows, then one to your lips, a preliminary kiss that preceded a second, more desperate kiss, which was repeated with increasing desperation, only being interrupted for mere seconds to remove articles of clothing, and in no time you and Daniel were completely bare to each other, making out and slowly moving toward the window. "You're fucking gorgeous." Your back was pressed up against the cold glass of the window, the change in temperature causing a combined gasping moan to come from your mouth. "And you make the prettiest noises, my love." You want to take in the glorious sight that is your boyfriend completely naked, tattoo sprinkled around his body that you love to kiss. You wanted to touch him, give him pleasure, but the coldness of the window, the sensation of Daniel's tongue now swirling and lips sucking at one of your nipples, physically feeling yourself get wetter, took that desire and tossed it to the side, and now you were chasing your own pleasure. Daniel's hands had pulled you in, one squeezing your ass and the other on your middle back, trying to bring your boob further into his mouth while using his body to continue to push you into the window.
   "Danny…" You moan out his shortened name, tossing your head back, some of your gathered up hair springing free from confinement.
   "Shh, dumb little babies don't speak unless they're spoken to." Daniel moved away from your chest back to your lips, swallowing the whine you let out from the loss of contact and then the moans you let out from the kiss. "Do you know how much I love your tits? They're absolutely perfect." He swoops his head back down to kiss your breasts, just the tops and in-between, slowly, sensually. "Let's just show the world how perfect they are." Daniel grasps your hips and spins you so your front pressed against the glass of the window, the abruptness of the action making it easier for him to do so because you had no chance to resist. You both knew the window was tinted, sure to a certain extent, but with tint and the fact that you two were mere floors away from the top floor, it was highly unlikely anyone saw you. But you could see out, clearly, and just the feeling of you being bare and open to the world like this makes you hornier than you even expected. Daniel comes up behind you and presses his body into your's, a hand at your pelvis and a hand grasping your hand that braces you against the window, fingers intertwined, placing his head on your shoulder. "What was that you were gonna say earlier?" As Daniel waits for your answer, he takes his socked foot and widens your legs ever so slightly.
   "I need you. So bad. Please, fuck me." You were already breathing deeply from your arousal, and also partially due to the limited range of motion for your expanding lungs due to your current position against the glass.
   "Wow, that was much more than I expected. I just thought my dumb little slut would just say 'Fuck me' and that's it. But that was fucking poetic." You could hear the frantic slight annoyance in Daniel's voice as he removes his hand from your pelvis to grasp himself, placing his dick between your legs right at your pussy, fucking your thighs a couple of times to lather up the wetness practically leaking from you before pulling all the way back and placing himself at your entrance. "Brace yourself." You did somewhat, but you wished you took his words more seriously because the force at which pressed his dick inside of you wasn't harsh or too fast, he knew better, but it was steady and gave you little time to adjust to having him inside your pussy as he bottomed out just as quick as he entered you. You simultaneously let out a moan that rivaled a porn star's as your face hit the glass, the abrupt sensation making your mind do cartwheels. Daniel's hand that had a hold on yours snaked away from your hand and under your, now back to, outstretched arms to reach under your chin, guiding your face up so he could give you another frantic, sloppy unfocused kiss before kissing your forehead. "Sorry, baby." 
   You didn't care. Even while he was apologizing for making you hit your face on the glass, Daniel continued to move his hips, thrusting slowly in and out of you, still causing you to let out lewd whiny moans. "Yes, baby. Keep making those pretty noises for me, okay? No one can make me go as crazy as you do with just a moan. No one. Fuck..." A harsh sting on your butt presents itself after Daniel's rambling of words, to which he responds by slowly massaging the the location at which his hand landed on you and proceeding to kiss your neck, happy with the mild scream you let out from the spontaneous action. He keeps thrusting into you at a steady, forceful rhythm. Snapping his hips into your ass and then dragging his dick out of you. Snap. Drag. Snap. Drag. He knew he wanted more from you, so he brought his left hand that was at your pelvis down to your clit, using the juices squelching from your pussy as lubrication for the fast, circular rubbing of the nub.
   "Aha, shit. Danny…fuck." You blindly reach behind your head with your right hand, knocking into Daniel's solid right arm that was back against the glass, clumsily finding its way to the back of Daniel's head, which he nuzzles further into your neck for easier access to the location, moving your hands up until you reach some curls to grasp.
   "You like being on display for everyone? Everyone seeing exactly how much of a slut you are for me?" He takes a small step forward, pushing your tits into the glass of the window more, changing the angle of your bodies slightly so his dick runs along each spot inside of you longer with each drag. "Answer."
   "Mhm. Ev'ryone knows I'm yours. And you're mine." Your words don't match the innocent face  that you give him, eyes wide and lips pouting and somewhat parted, shiny and swollen from the incessant kissing.
   "Still so bold even when I'm fucking you against the window for everyone to see. That's why I love you." He flashed a giant smile at you before capturing your lips again at the same time as a harsh snap of his hips, producing from you a loud startled moan. He keeps thrusting and rubbing your clit, both paces steady. He can feel you go slightly limp from exhaustion due to how quick the intensity of the act got to maximum, so he adjusted, taking a step back so you were no longer against the window and bringing the arm previously holding him up against the window to reach across your torso, hand coming up to roll your nipple between two fingers.
   " 'm gonna cum. Can't hold it. Feels too good." You keep your grasp on Daniel's head but look away, dropping your head down, getting a somehow X-Rated view of Daniel's tattooed hand rubbing your clit. As you said, it was all too much and soon your legs were giving out and trembling beneath you, to which Daniel takes a step forward again to brace himself on the window again, moving his other hand to your abdomen.
   “That was a big one. You okay?” He turns you around and holds you steady by your ass, searching for your eyes and waiting for your answer.
   “Mhm.” You look up at him, eyes blinking lazily as your mind swirls around with the pleasure you just received. Your out-of-it response, which was adorable to Daniel, earned you another batch of sloppy tongue filled kisses.
   “Good, cause we’re not done.” Before you could protest or retort, Daniel’s lips were back on yours, your bodies slowly making their way over to the bed, the back of Daniel’s legs hitting the structure being him you guys' only indication that you made it to your destination. You were chasing his kisses now, so he had to put you at arms length again to speak. “Ass in the air, my love.” You didn’t follow directions, just stood on your tiptoes, puckering your lips for another kiss. “If I give you a kiss, will you follow instructions?” You nod and then climb in the bed kneeling on it so you were eye level with him, then bring him in from the back of his head, you now dominating this kiss, subconsciously showing anyone that has shown any remote interest in your boyfriend exactly who he belongs to. Once you pull away, a string of spit briefly connecting you two, you slowly get into position, wiggling your ass as you wait. The lack of sight was exhilarating, making you even more wet when you felt the bed dip and Daniel rub his dick along your highly exposed pussy. With a hand on your lower back, Daniel pushes inside you and you groan into the pillow you had your face buried in. 
   “Fuck, you feel so good like this.” He starts with a gentle pace, allowing your juices to really coat his dick to help it slide in and out better, and as his pace quickens, your groans prolong, still feeling sensitive from your earlier orgasm. “Ha, I can’t believe you thought I would even think about getting rid of this pussy. You really are just a dumb. Little. Brat.” With those last three words, harsh thrusts were supplemented with some more sharp smacks on your butt. His own carnal sensations take over for a moment, just focusing on chasing his own climax, but at a certain point he tilts to the side to look at you, still thrusting. He smiles at the picture of beauty in front of him, your drooping eyelids, slightly parted mouth with a small bit of drool falling onto the pillow, unsecured curls sticking to your sweaty forehead, and exhausted whimpers falling from your mouth. “You look so pretty, baby, all fucked out from my cock.” He keeps moving, speeding up as he gets closer and you also get wordlessly closer to another orgasm, but once Daniel feels himself get more frantic, more animalistic, he stops and pulls out of you, to your dismay, and flips you over onto you back. You kept the same face, brain clouded by desire for another orgasm, and your chest heaving from deep breathing as Daniel worked to get you in position. He kneeled between your legs, pushing them up toward your head, hooking your knees in the crooks of his arms, letting go just so he could guide himself back into you, then continuing the same brutal pace that shocks you for a moment, but then your brain goes numb, mouth hanging open, allowing whatever noises you make to come out uninhibited. “Look at that pretty face you're making for me,” He reaches down and squishes our face, abandoning one of legs to do so. “You think I would want to leave this face?” He bends down to kiss you, stretching your hip and pushing his dick deeper inside you to do so. You had no choice in the matter to kiss him, your lips were already puckered from his hand squeezing your face and your brain couldn't think of anything past cumming again from your boyfriend’s cock, but you still let out a moaning gasp from the intense mixture of sensation. Once Daniel pulls back, he seems to put complete and utter focus on fucking you, hard. “Do you know how much of a brat you were today?” He took your legs and wrapped them around his waist so he could bring his hands down next to your head and get a clear view of your face. “All because you didn’t want to share. And now here you are, being fucked in front of windows, from behind, just so you know that there is no other pussy I would rather fuck. My poor insecure little brat.” You couldn’t respond. You wanted to. Wanted to be snarky back, but everything felt too good, sensitive, and you were too close to cumming  to think of anything to say except warning him of your upcoming climax.
   “Danny…cum…” You held eye contact with him for the first time in a while, biting your bottom lip hard and begging him with glossy eyes. He just smiles maniacally at you and makes his thrusts rougher, knowing that he was coming close to his own end. 
   “After such mean words, too? You really are just a little slut for me.” He moves his arms around so he could be stable on one arm in order to reach down and rub your clit, causing you to make the loudest, unabashed moans until you finally got over your hump and came, hips bucking into Daniel’s, back arching, and hands bundling up what you could of the bedding. The rhythmic convulsions happening inside you during your orgasm were working to bring Daniel closer to his own, evident in the groan that he let out just as they started. He continued to fuck you through your climax, but purely for the sake of cumming too, his steady rhythm becoming frantic and unpredictable. “Why don’t we try out that implant, huh? I’m gonna cum in you so much it’ll be leaking out and we’ll see if you end up all round from me. That sounds fun, huh?” You weren’t listening at all, brain going haywire from the continued stimulation to your sensitive pussy, so Daniel’s words were truly just to bring him up and into his own climax, fucking into you wildly as he came inside your pussy, bending over to kiss all over your fucked out face as he did so. Once he came down a bit he removed himself from you and found enough strength to prop up onto his side in order to watch his cum leak from you, gently caressing your aching pussy to help you come down. “You did a good job. I hope now you know that I’m yours forever, okay?” He looks up at your face to see that you seemed to have fallen asleep, unquestioningly exhausted from the night's festivities. Daniel just chuckles and kisses your forehead. “I guess we’ll talk later.” He does what he needs to clean you and himself up enough to sleep comfortably, then climbs back into bed and rolls you into him so that your head is on his chest, and caresses your back until he falls blissfully into sleep with you.
_________
   When you finally woke up it was nearly 10:30 in the morning. The room was quiet and the curtains to the windows were drawn so very little sunlight made it into the room. You reach behind yourself to the nightstand beside the bed, finding your phone that was conveniently plugged in and now fully charged. There was a text from Daniel.
Danny💙
Had to leave for the track pretty early. There's donuts out in the kitchenette-thing and iced coffee in the fridge. Make sure you eat real food when you get here. 😘
   You smile coyly to yourself, then type out an answer you knew he wouldn't see until after you got to the track anyway.
YN
Thank you, baby. See you soon 💗
   You take a moment to fully wake up, stretch out your body, then get up to find and put on the pajamas that were carelessly tossed to the side last night before tiredly stalking out to see a rectangular box of 3 assorted donuts and a white tulip next to them, your favorite flower. You then make your way over to the refrigerator, flower in hand, opening it to see the aforementioned iced coffee, pulling it out and then grabbing one of the donuts before heading back to the bedroom to get ready for the rest of the Saturday.
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