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fuckyeahgoodomens · 26 days

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Neil talking about the responses to Good Omens Season 2 - from the Neil Gaiman interview with Brian Levine for The Gould Standard (x,x)

BL: The audience that you have built is a very passionately engaged audience. They, frankly, they love you. And one of the reasons they love you is that you fit into what I think of as one of two great divisions in art. There's, or in writing, um, there is: I'm entertained, I'm amused. I may be even enchanted; and then there's this hits me at a visceral level. You understand me as no one else does. You have touched something very central to my experience. And it seems to me that Much of your writing, maybe all of your writing, actually reaches your audience at that latter level. You know. I would say in the former category, sort of my quintessential and beloved example would be P. G. Woodhouse. He amuses me, but I don't feel like he's revealed my inner self at a very deep level. Um, were you aware that you were going to be able to achieve that? Um, that this is something... was it a startling thing when people began coming up to you, who'd read your work and said, this means so much to me?

Neil: Yeah. It was huge. And it wasn't expected. I... if I had a mountaintop I was heading towards, it was gonna be P. G. Woodhouse. Um, I wanted to be a proficient entertainer with a clear prose style who could tell stories. Um, it probably wasn't until Sandman that I found... I started to realize that in order for a story to work, I had to show too much. In order for a story to resonate, in order for a story to matter, I had to let it matter too much. And, and I remember the first people who would start coming up to me and saying, um, you, you know, your, your Sandman comics got me through the death of a loved one. Your death character got me through my child's death, through my parent's death, through my partner's death, through my friend's death. Um, and that left me kind of amazed. I'm like, well, I didn't write it to do that. I wrote it to feed my children. I wrote it to satisfy myself. I wrote it because nobody else had ever written it. And if I didn't write it, it wouldn't be written, but I don't think I wrote it to give you what you've taken from it. And I spent really about 20, 25 years feeling awkward about that. And then my father died, in March 2009, and never got to cry about it. Never... I, you know, I've, I've got on a plane and I went to the UK and dealt with the funeral stuff and organized all of that stuff and came back and go toff the plane and went and did Stephen Colbert's Colbert Report and wearing the funeral suit because and that was all I had with me and carried on. And then, somewhere in the middle of summer, I was reading a friend's script. They'd sent me a script and said, can you look this over? And I'm reading it, and on page 20, the lead character meets somebody, and on page 26 maybe, she's dead, and I burst into tears. And I'm bawling. I am sobbing. It is coming out of me in giant racking waves. And I realized that it's everything that I'd been, hadn't let myself feel, or hadn't been able, hadn't stopped enough to let myself feel, was suddenly being given permission to feel by the death of a fictional person who I'd met six pages earlier, ia script. And I thought that... and it was huge for me, and I thought, okay, that's that thing that people are talking about sometimes, when they come tome and they say, you, you did this. So right now, I'm in this weird, wonderful place where I think a lot of people in Good Omens Season 2 thought they were signing up for the P.G. Woodhouse, and didn't know that, no, no, no, you've, you've signed up for the whole thing. You've signed up for the feelings. You've signed up for the emotions. I... it is my job to make you care and to make you feel and to feel things you haven't felt before. And which meant that the first week or so after Good Omens came out, I was getting angry, furious, deeply upset messages on every possible social medium telling me that I had betrayed people, and it was awful, and they couldn't stop crying, and why would I do that to them, and did I hate them? And they hated me. And then a weird sort of phenomenon happened as people would watch the show again. And again. And now they started to know, okay, this is where it's gonna go, this is what's gonna happen, this is how it works. And they started realizing that they were actually feeling things, and that was good. And that they were caring about two people who don't exist. You know, I made them up, and then and Terry Pratchett made them up, and then, um, David Tennant and Michael Sheen gave them life, and then they get to walk around on a screen and you know they don't exist, but you can cry for them, you can love them, they can make you laugh, they can make you exult, and most important of all, they can make you care. And the number of people who are now writing to me, saying, 'This was so important to me. This has changed my life. This makes me feel like I belong. This makes me feel like I can cope. And it's let me sort of find myself. P. S. I hope you get to do Season Three.' is, is huge.

#good omens #neil gaiman #brian levine #neil the gould standard 2023 #interview #neil interview #videos #fun fact #gos2 #season 2 #2ep6 #s2 interview

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inkbybambi · 6 months

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best friend!simon riley picking you up from a bad date —

words: 2.2k rating: nothing explicit apart from a brief mention of sex, just some light angst and comfort. my blog is 18+ so minors please dni. warning: hurt/comfort, fluff, pet names, insecurity/doubt/worry, mentions of sex, simon is the softie we all know he is notes: originally written for @ghosts-cyphera ♡ we all need a bestfriend!simon in our lives who's so sweet and gentle with us.

one thing you love about simon — besides everything — is how reliable he is. strong, steadfast, there when you need him. even when he’s not physically there — his work taking him away for weeks or even months at a time — you find yourself reading over the messages he’s sent, the little sticky notes he’s left, whatever memento you’ve kept of him tucked away in the drawer in your bedside table.

not that you’ll tell him that.

you hate asking him for favors — asking anyone for favors, really, but him especially. whenever you ask someone for help, it's always accompanied by a long-suffering sigh or a roll of the eyes or some very clear indication that they'd rather do anything else.

except for simon.

which is why you're hesitant to ask him more than you absolutely need to. you don't want to push your luck too far, less he eventually tires of you as well.

losing people hurts, always assuming it's you that caused the problem. you've come to accept this, even if the dark feelings of being too much or a burden claw at the edges of your mind.

but losing simon? you don't think you'd ever get over that.

it's just after 9pm, the sky dark and clouds threatening, with thunder rumbling steadily in the sky. your hand shakes as you fumble your phone from your pocket, trying to hold your tears at bay as you scroll through your contacts.

your call log is all simon.

some appointments here and there, but simon everywhere else.

fuck.

you hiccup, the tears spilling from your eyes as the sky finally opens up, joining you in your mourning.

you don't have any other choice, really, so you click his number before you can talk yourself out of it and walk home instead, bringing it up to your ear as it rings.

he answers before the third ring.

"i'm so sorry to bother you," you sniffle into the phone, before he has a chance to say anything. you take in a sharp breath, blood turning to ice. "am i bothering you?" you sound so meek and small and tired.

“no, dove, you’re not,” comes his calm, reassuring voice. you’re only half-convinced.

"i'm sorry," you begin again. your heart falls to your stomach, convincing yourself that this is his final straw. you're overtaken by a wave of nausea, despite not having eaten anything since lunch. "i didn't know who else to call, and i lost my tram pass, and i don't have an umbrella, and — "

“dove,” he says, his accent soothing to your ears — he's so endlessly patient and kind. you ache.

"i can just walk home, i-i'm sorry," you whimper out, unable to stop the tears blurring your vision, feeling pathetic and weak and so, so alone.

“darling,” he says, a little stern. not angry, never angry. trying to focus you. “what’s wrong?”

“u-um, my date stood me up,” you sniff, swallowing hard. "i waited an hour," you mumble, looking to your shoes. "messaged him too, y'know. but he just. didn't show."

you think you hear simon curse over the line and your heart lurches, feeling like you're about to be sick.

“where are you?”

there's a rustle of fabric, the clink of keys, the heel of his boot walking across his floor. you manage to tell him the name of the restaurant, voice cracking.

“twenty minutes,” he says, and you’re about to protest but he beats you to it. “sit there and be good and patient and i’ll pick you up, yeah?”

"okay," you whisper in agreement, before the line clicks dead and you allow yourself to cry, huddling under the awning as some protection from the rain, now coming down in thick, sharp waves.

thirteen minutes later, the headlights of his truck shine through the dark, pulling up to the curb. you make a mad dash for the passenger door, still getting drenched in the process.

you can't even look at him, hands shaking as you buckle the belt, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

he says your name gently. you take in a shuddering breath and let it out just as shaky, looking over towards him. he's wearing his balaclava, but his eyes — even in the dark, you can make out his beautiful eyes. assessing you, worrying.

"i'm sorry," you croak out. you can't help it. it's burned into your tongue, driven into your mind to make him understand you didn't want to bother him. he doesn't have to forgive you, but as long as he knows, that's enough.

"love," he says, and there's... something in his voice, as he reaches over for your hand, holding it gently in his own. his eyes never leave yours. "'m never gonna be mad about you askin' for help." your eyes flit away, but he squeezes your hand and you reluctantly look back. "you know me better than that," he says, as if he can read the treacherous thoughts swirling in your head, drowning you and making it hard to breathe.

you can only nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. he hums, bringing the back of your hand up to graze his covered lips over the back, pulling out to drive you back.

"this is your flat," you say, fifteen minutes later as he shuts the car off. you were too busy looking at the window, watching the rain drops race down the glass, to notice that he wasn't driving the familiar route to your place.

"yes," he replies, as if it's obvious he'd bring you here. "you really think i'd let you stay home alone?"

his eyes are so fucking bright. it startles you, and you hate how your heart twists and thumps at how intently he's looking.

"i..." you start, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. his eyes flicker to your lips, snapping away just as quick. "i was gonna eat ice cream and drink shitty, cheap wine," you say.

"as if i don't have either of those things here," he replies, opening the door and effectively ending the conversation. you scramble after him, eager to be inside in the warmth and burrow yourself into his couch.

"go get changed," he says, voice clear as he removes the balaclava and bends to untie his shoes.

you hesitate for a second, until he looks up to you and there's that something lingering in his gaze — the same something that was in his voice.

"go on now," he repeats, softer, and you ditch your shoes and your uncomfortably wet jacket by his.

his flat is as familiar as your own — you could walk through it blindfolded at night and you wouldn't knock into a single thing.

well.

you might knock into a corner or two, but that's not a vision thing. it's a you're a bit clumsy thing. simon finds it endlessly amusing, poking at the bruises that blossom on your skin while you bat his hand away.

his bedroom is familiar as well. which is why you don't think twice before you're shimmying out of your clothes — undergarments as well — and rifling through his drawers, finding your favorite shirt of his and a pair of his boxers.

you take a moment to smell the collar, taking comfort in the scent that lingers. you’ve been dressed in his clothes many times before this but it feels different this time.

as you pad back out to the living room, simon’s already on the couch. your favorite blanket is draped across his lap, two bowls of ice cream and a bottle of cheap wine sitting open, glasses filled far more than you would’ve. but you’ll indulge him, mostly because you have the sneaking suspicion that he’ll have you sleep here anyways.

his balaclava is off. the last dregs of tension drain from you as he looks over to you, face soft in the lowlight of the lamp, tv already ready with a show you’ve watched a thousand times that he watches with you without complaint.

“knew you’d choose that one,” he says with a bit of a smirk as you crawl on the couch, burrowing yourself into his side, his arm slinging across the back of the cushion.

“am i that predictable?” you mumble, a small ‘thank you’ as he hands you a bowl.

he doesn’t answer, but you feel the burn of his stare before he snorts, flicking the tv to start playing, the familiar theme relaxing you further.

the silence with him is comfortable, lingering in a hazy in-between of awake and sleep, empty bowls and mostly empty glasses sitting on the coffee table.

“were you going to fuck him?” he asks, three episodes in, bottle empty.

you blink, not sure if you heard him properly as you pull back to look at him. you can’t read his eyes. something hot twists in your gut.

“i-i don’t know, simon,” you start, the weight of his stare heavy. “maybe?”

he doesn’t say anything and you chew your lip for a moment, fingers curling to play with the blanket. “depends how the date went, i suppose. doesn’t matter much now,” you snort. his gaze hasn’t changed. “why?”

his jaw clicks, taking a deep breath. “you deserve better ‘n that.”

a confused frown pulls at your mouth, unsure how to reply. “i know how to be safe,” you tell him, voice soft.

he seems to be weighing his words in his head, lowering the volume of the show. you feel sick.

dark eyes rove over your face, taking in every minute detail. you bite at your nail, just for something to do.

“don’t think there’s a bloke in the world that’s worthy of ya.”

your frown deepens, breaking your eyes from his, twisting your fingers in your lap. relationships aren’t easy. being that vulnerable with someone isn’t easy.

you never want someone to pay for you, and even the smallest gestures like opening the car door or pulling out your chair feel like it’s too much. you don’t deserve that kind of attention. after a while, they’ll get tired. you’ll become a burden to them like everything else in your life.

it’s easier to be by yourself. the only person you have to worry about bothering is you.

“love.” he tilts his head, eyes trying to catch yours. how hasn’t he tired of you yet?

a hand under your chin forces your gaze up, and you try to shrink yourself against the back of the couch. your voice catches in your throat, words stuck there.

“what’s goin’ on in tha’ pretty head f’yours?”

you swallow thickly, finding it damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his.

“‘s not like it matters,” you start. his brows furrow, but he stays silent. “no one would want me anyways.”

“‘n why would you say that?”

frustration burns the back of your throat. isn’t it obvious? you can barely call him in a dire situation without thinking the worst of yourself. how can he think of you as anything but a nuisance? how could he think anyone else would put up with it?

“you wouldn’t understand,” you say, defeated. you crumble back into the couch.

“make me understand.”

heat flashes at the nape of your neck. he takes your hands in his, cradling them in his warmth. your name sounds so soft in his voice.

“how aren’t you tired of me?” comes your whispered question, nose tingling and eyes threatening to water. you look at him. hesitant. scared.

the silence is loud. his frown deepens. it takes a few painful minutes, but you see the moment something clicks in place.

“you know i’d do anything for you, yeah?”

your lip quivers, sniffling as you beg yourself not to cry.

“because you do the same for me,” he continues. you doubt it, mind going blank of every time he’s come to you for something.

his touch moves to your elbow, tugging you forward gently until he can arrange you in his lap. he slips his hands beneath the hem of his shirt, thumbs rubbing on your hips where the waistband of his boxers start.

you slowly brace your hands on his shoulders. firm and broad and safe.

“you apologize so much. you worry so much.” the tears slip down your cheeks, throat aching, but now you can’t look away from him. one hand moves to cup the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently at the skin behind your ear.

“you’re allowed to ask for help.”

you shake your head, a “no” caught in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“oh, love.” he cradles you into the curve of his neck, arm wrapping around your waist and keeping a gentle hold at the base of your skull. “you have me wrapped around your finger ‘n you don’t even know it.”

he lets you cry into his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt. but his cologne is soothing and you eventually slump against him. you’re so tired.

his lips graze your temple, his soft touch lulling you to sleep. you’ll talk about it tomorrow, but for now you want to stay wrapped up in his arms, held by someone who genuinely loves you.

#ink by bambi #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley/reader #simon riley/you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley hurt/comfort #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #modern warfare imagine

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cheriladycl01 · 6 days

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Winning Gold in Life - Lando Norris x BritishOlympicFigureSkating! Reader

Plot: You and Lando will try to coordinate his helmet designs to your figure skating outfit, so that you guys can match and win together.

Credits to off-t0-the-races for the GIF

"You looked amazing out there baby!" Lando grins picking you up and spinning you around as you got to the edge of the ice rink by the gate to leave.

You orange dress that had the Mclaren Logo all up the sheer see-through sleeves and on the back as if it were a tramp-stamp flowed around you hips as he spun you.

"Ah that was so nerve-racking having you watching me!" you exclaim, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. You both sat on the stands waiting for the results.

"Y/N, that was an fantastic performance. Think we have a chance for Gold!" your coach says coming over to you handing you your coat and gloves like she normally did after you'd been out on the ice.

"Thank you Maddie, I just hope it was enough!" you nod nervously. Lando rubs his hand up and down your legs in a comforting manor before pulling you into his hold.

"You did do well, no matter where you come... I'm going to be proud of you for just going out there today!" he whispers in your ear and tears start to build up in your eyeline. Some of you eyeliner and mascara had already started to melt off your face but Lando couldn't stand to see himself make it worse.

"Ohhhh, don't cry baby!" he laughs seeing your little pouty expression that he found adorable. You look at him is his thumbs wipe under your eyes trying to fix the black and brown makeup that had started to streak and make you loosely resemble a Panda.

As you waited for the results to come in, you anxiously bite your lips until you hear you name said by the Chinese commentator before the English one making you look at Lando and your trainer.

"Was that my name or am i tripping?" you ask looking between them and Lando has a huge grin on his face.

"That was your name baby, GOLD!" he exclaims and you crouch down into a sort of squat in shock. Tears streaming down your face.

"Y/N come on! Onto the ice!" you trainer grins and you take Lando's hand dragging him so he's as close to the barriers between the ice and the stadium seats as possible.

You see the camera on you and the other two medalists who you immediately pull into hugs, you'd gotten close to them since you guys landed here in Beijing.

You stake out to where the podium is and stand on the top place, getting help from someone to get up onto it. You smile at your flag, proud of what you've done for team GB.

The medal gets placed around you neck after the others and you get handed your flowers as you all stand listening to the British National Anthem, your hand on your heart and medal while you look up trying to keep the tears at bay.

You skate back and see Lando is filming your arrival making you make a silly face at the camera before showing your cold medal to him and the camera with a big cheesy grin on you face.

"Darling I'm so proud of you!" he smiles pulling you in for a hug and kisses your forehead as he takes a second to observe you.

"I love you so much, having you here for support was everything!" you admit, knowing you probably wouldn't have done as well if he wasn't here cheering you on.

"Well, now that you've got your first gold. I think it's time that I got my first win..." he smiles.

"Yeah? Will that be in Bahrain with your new matching lid" you grin at him and he nods.

"Need my good luck charm with me, if I'm going to win!"

And that was how you found yourself once again in the fuel scented paddock that you'd become accustomed too over the few years you'd been dating Lando for.

"Things have been looking promising babe! You guy's sandbagged hard!" you grin, knowing there was a lot more oophm to the car than what they'd let on in February's pre-season testing.

"Zac's orders. We'll be up there with Red Bull and Mercedes this year!" he grins and FP1 and FP2 proved that. He had a mega performance having the quickest time in the first and going third fastest in the second.

Sunday came around far to quickly for your liking and you were sat in the paddock in shorts and Lando's Mclaren Shirt for the warm weather Bahrain had brought. You even had to go to the merch stand to by yourself a McLaren hat because the darkness to you hair had started to burn the top of you head.

It was an embarrassing interaction, you asked for a Lando Norris McLaren hat but it was so busy and so loud they'd mistaken it for a Lewis Hamilton Mercedes hat so you were strolling through the paddock with that on your head.

"Ahhh, well if it isn't my biggest fan Y/N Y/L/N!" Lewis says catching you as he strides past on his scooter stopping to talk to you.

"They made a mistake at the merch shop. I didnt have the heart to correct them..." you chuckle and he laughs as well, he pulls out a pen starting to sign it while it was on your head.

"For my biggest fan" he laughs and you cant help but laugh as well. Only seconds later do the media catch on to the two athletes conversing and pull them up on it.

"Hey guys, how are we doing today!" one of the interviewers asks making you freeze a little like a deer in headlights.

"I'm doing great, just you know spending time with a fan!" Lewis jokes making the reporters laughs and turn to you.

"Yep, big fan of his work. Ppppft whose that Lando Norris guy in pole position. I don't know him..." you joke back knowing Lewis and Lando had the front row locked out.

"Y/N, all jokes aside it's great to see you back in the paddock now after all the training ... which clearly paid off congratulations" she smiles and you blush a little nod liking to brag or show off.

"Thank you, my team and I worked really hard. I obviously had the power of Mclaren and Lando on my side and I'm happy to have achieved Gold after my not so good attempt in 2018!" you cringe remembering when you were so much younger and naive that you hadn't performed as well, just missing out on a bronze medal.

"Well all the best to you and Lando!" she grins before keeping Lewis and letting you dash off back to McLaren.

2 hours later and you were anxuously biting your nails watching Lando catch up to the lead of the race after a slow pitstop and reclaim his P1.

It wasn't until the last lap, where DRS was enabled that he could overtake Charles and take back his P1 having an advantage on the final turn and straight for him to cross the finish line in P1.

His first F1 win.

You didn't have the most graceful reaction for a WAG, that was for sure but seeing Lando win after working so hard towards his goal, you couldn't contain your emotions.

You ran up to him, and you jumped on him not caring about the wetness of his suit from sweat and you were wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as his gloved hands came down to support you holding just under your bum.

"You are amazing!" you cry pulling up his visor so you can see his own eyes that are full of tears.

You later watched on as he celebrated his podium with Charles and Lewis, and you saw the elated and happy expression on your face that you would do anything to keep on their permanently as your favourite thing about him was his smile.

That was your man... and he was forever your man.

y/user

Liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and pietra.pilao

y/user: Life recently! Winning Gold in all aspects of life ... McLaren Papaya inspired drip, and Lando getting a new lid for 2023 (I’m not allowed to show you guys till race weekend) <3

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landonorris: my gorgeous baby! I love you 🥰❤️

-> y/user: I love you more! Thank you for all your support recently 🫶🏼❤️

mclaren: when the drip is dripping 😦🤭🧡

-> y/user: always 🧡

fan1: it’s so cute how Lando and Y/N always match🥺

fan2: Y/N show us the lid we won’t snitch!

maxfewtrell: thank you for making it to the merch drop. We miss seeing you!

-> y/user: missing you too Max 🫶🏼

pietra.pilao: beautiful, gorgeous girl

-> y/user: no you 👆🏼☺️

-> pietra.pilao: let’s date ❤️

-> y/user: YES! Spa days for life 🫣🫶🏼

fan3: P and Y/N’s friendship is so funny 🥺🧡

Instagram Story Caption

Back to training, without my mans 😭🫶🏼

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ofloveandstardust · 1 month

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A/N: I saw that Cain and Abel aren't like present in the show and I know they're technically Adam and Eve's kids, but let me have this please— I just wanna gush about this since it's been invading my mind.

cw: fem!reader (no pronouns, but reader is called wife/mama/mommy/mother)

Imagine: Being Adam's wife and having two sons with him.

I can definitely see him being excited over having sons. Like, hell yeah! But but but also— I have this feeling in my gut that he'd be okay with being a girl dad, sooo after having your sons he's just like "Wifey, Sugartits, Babycakes—" Any nickname under the sun until you finally ask him what he wants and he just says he wants a daughter.

You can't tell me he didn't name Abel— and 💀 It's even funnier since Abel does have a little more resemblance of his father than Cain does. Cain was named by you and looks more like you. However, you can say his attitude is similar to Adam's. I can see them both having Adam's eyes when thinking up of how they'd look, but I'm leaving things up in the air. Just for this, because I think it'd be neat, the boys are twins. Cain is the older twin while Abel is the younger one.

Cain is kind of a menace...but still a good kid. He always pulls that "Because I'm the oldest" card with Abel and if he ever whacked his brother and he started crying, Cain immediately does that thing where the sibling just panics and stops them from crying or else he's getting in trouble with mama and papa. He teases his younger brother, but will get upset if anyone tries to bully Abel. Oh, but the biggest menace he is towards? Adam. Cain doesn't hate his dad at all. No, he just prefers you more and lowkey is a mama's boy. Adam can have Mr. Perfect (Abel), but he at least has mama.

Then Adam just straight up has beef with his own son 💀 Because Cain takes up your time and he swears the little shit is taunting him when you're not looking. Cain comes up when you and Adam are kissing or anything like that, holding his hands up like, "I want Mama's kisses too... 🥺" You can't resist because that's your baby and he's so adorable. There's this stare down between Adam and Cain...meanwhile Abel, being the good bean that he is, waddles towards you all and goes, "Mama! Papa! Look what I drew! :D" and it's just a sweet little drawing of him, his brother, you and Adam.

Speaking of Abel, he's a good boi. Cain calls him Mr. Perfect sometimes because Abel has some natural talent. He's especially good with music, much to Adam's delight. Still, he looks up to his brother and despite Cain's jealousy, they do get along nicely. They have this little game where they're building their own city and decide over several elements of it. Abel somehow always brings sheep into the mix, but his brother isn't complaining.

Abel doesn't play favorites and says he loves you and Adam equally. He always wants to make sure the two of you are present at the same time when showing his accomplishments or what he's found. Speaking of which, he has special interests that last for a while until he moves on to another one or some just last a very long time. An example would be sheep, as mentioned before. He even has a lamb plushie (I can see him watching Lamb Chop's Play Along and loving the show). Cain knows how precious this little lamb is to Abel and will raise chaos if it ever gets lost or stolen (he calls the plush "The Chosen").

Here's a funny little thing: the boys not recognizing Adam in the mask he wears. From the day they were born, they always saw their father without his mask and have grown used to seeing his actual face. One day, they ask you where he was and you tell them it's work related but he'll be back to teach them some new songs. Just imagine Adam coming back, calling out that he's home, which cause the boys to rush up to him. Then they just stop because... "Mama, who's this stranger in our house!?" Abel literally starts crying— saying this isn't papa. Meanwhile Cain's mind immediately says violence is the answer (thanks, Adam). You have to calm both boys down and explain to them about the mask.

Flight lessons are stressful. It all started when Cain began jumping off of the furniture and escalated to him jumping off the bunk bed (because it'd be adorable for them to have bunk beds). So, it seems like it was time to show the boys how to use their wings. It's harder than it looks. Abel isn't okay with jumping off from anywhere unless Cain is going to jump with him. Fine with his brother because he enjoys doing this. Eventually, they're able to fly and it's a joy! They can fly around Heaven with you and Adam and it's absolutely adorable.

Cain and Abel have different ways to refer to you and Adam. Cain calls Adam 'dad' or 'papa' but does call him 'father' when he's upset or serious. Meanwhile, he calls you 'mama', 'mommy', or 'mom' (mom is more frequent when around others or strangers) and it's rare when he calls you mother. Abel just calls you two mama and papa. He'll only use mother and father if he's around people he doesn't know or meeting for the first time.

I have more thoughts about these little beans such as how they are around Lute (#1 and only Babysitter), Emily (Abel affectionately calls her Auntie Em), Sera and possibly Lucifer and Charlie (because you can't tell me Adam would not brag about having kids 💀). Like, I can see Cain being brutally honest when he first sees Lucifer because he's that type of kid. Will 100% make a comment about the man's height. There's also the fact that both boys are into music like their father. Abel once asked, "So if that's Queen, then who's the King?" when Adam tells them about Queen. Also, I can very much see Cain getting into gardening. If you want more of these then let me know!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel fluff #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel

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erospandemos · 2 months

Text

Some things never change

NewJeans Danielle x Reader

Where Danielle tries everything in her power to make you understand her feelings

Beta-reader: @leafostuff

You had known Danielle Marsh all your life, from when she was just a little kid to now that she's a fully grown adult, although her height kind of stopped halfway. You met her in the first days of elementary school. She must have looked weak to the other kids with her two missing teeth, thin legs, and pale complex, so a group of rascals started messing with her.

They would call her all sorts of names with their limited word knowledge, mocking her with gestures and weird sounds. They'd also push her around or make her trip and fall. Even though their mind was still limited, they already had a knack for bullying.

You happened to be around her when you witnessed one of those scenes. All it took was a slap and a threat and the kids fled away. It was just a normal thing for you, as fights were very common at that age but for Danielle, you were her saviour.

"Are you okay?" you asked her worryingly.

Amidst her sniffling, Danielle managed to reply, "Those bullies were teasing me. But you made them go away, so thank you."

You felt a bit bad about her. Her eyes were so red from crying and she kept rubbing her eyelids to dry those endless tears. "Don't worry Danielle. They will never tease you again. I'll always be here for you," you reassured her, not knowing what kind of promise you were making.

What followed were days, weeks, and months of annoyance. Danielle followed you everywhere you went, pestering you from the morning to the afternoon—always talking, always joking, always asking.

"Thank you for helping me!" she told you. "Jinyoung hasn't been mean to me anymore! I love you!"

You were annoyed. You let her talk and kept walking, "He was just being an ass. It's nothing special."

She began to be your shadow, a silent companion seeking solace. A girl looking for a friend, or at least that is what you and she thought. There was already something present in her heart but you just didn't know it yet. But kids learned quickly.

It was a random day in April when she made her first move.

"My parents taught me that I should hug the ones I love. Can I hug you?" Danielle asked you, her eyes earnest and pleading.

You were caught off guard but still nodded hesitantly. You opened your arms and she stopped closer, embracing you tightly. She found comfort in your warmth and kept you there close to her. You didn't know why she did that but you liked it too.

Then a couple of months later, you were invited to her house. You and her parents got to know each other and figured it would be a good occasion for you two to bond together. At her house, there was a very nice illustrated book for children. The kind to have small but enormous sentences. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement when she brought it out from her desk to show it to you.

"It's a story about a prince who married the princess he saved. Don't you think that it's so... cool?" She said, her eyes wondering between dreams and fantasies.

"Yeah, I guess," you replied. You didn't fully grasp the implication of the tale. You just liked the drawings.

"You saved me from the bullies, just like the prince. Maybe... maybe we could get married someday?" Danielle confessed, blushing.

You chuckled nervously, still oblivious and clueless.

Things also got more complicated when she caught you talking with a girl from your class.

"Who's she?" Danielle asked, laced with jealousy.

"Oh, this is my friend from the class, Seo-yeon," you introduced her, unaware of her stern demeanor.

"Well, she better not try to steal you away from me!" she declared, pouting and crossing her arms.

You laughed nervously again, not understanding what she was trying to say, and apologized the poor Seo-yeon who was receiving the possessive gave from Danielle.

That was more than ten years ago. But now that you were both grown up, things didn't change at all.

You're reading the book you've been saving up for weeks, finally free from the exam season of college. It's been a relaxing day, as it's been the first full break you could take and you decided to just replenish your energy by doing nothing all day. The day was good outside but you didn't feel like going out at all.

But you did not know that the outside would visit you instead.

A too-familiar figure barged into your room, with a familiar voice and force. "Hey! Your mom said I could come in. Hope you don't mind," Danielle exclaims.

You look up, surprised. You have to bid goodbye to your book because there was no way she would've left the house now.

"Uh, hey. No, not at all," you say, recollecting yourself. Looking around, you could see the mess the room was left in but after all the times your friend had seen, it wasn't much of a problem. You just left it as it was.

Danielle approaches, her grin widening as she eyes the book in your hands. She lowers her head and reads your title, not because she is interested, but because it could be a potential reason to tease you.

"What fascinating world are you escaping to today?" Danielle asks you.

Before you can respond, Danielle snatches the book away, dramatically flipping through the pages, not a word passing through her eyes.

"It's a great book, you know," you say before she can judge you. But that wasn't her intention. Danielle tosses the book aside and, with a sly grin, moves closer to you.

"Boys, your age don't really stay in their house all day, shouldn't you go outside?"

You raise your eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?

She clears her throat, "Well, you know, all boys go around picking girls, shouldn't you be interested in girls too? Especially me..."

"Books are interesting enough," you say, annoyed.

Danielle sighs heavily and slaps your shoulder. "You really don't get it do you...? Whatever," she says, "But do you know what's even more interesting than books?"

Without waiting for an answer, Danielle wraps her arm around you, pulling him into an unexpected side hug. You, visibly annoyed and embarrassed, squirm from the surprise and try to claw out of her grasp. But it just gets tighter. "Danielle, seriously, what are you doing?" you stutter.

Danielle chuckles, enjoying your annoyed remarks, and lets her other arm get you too.

"Just playing with you."

You try to pull away, but Danielle persists.

"Can we not do this right now?" you say. Danielle rolls her eyes and sighs before releasing you.

"Oh, come on. Just having a bit of fun," she says, pouting.

She playfully pokes your cheek and laughs.

"This is ridiculous."

Danielle seizes the opportunity and leans closer, circling your thighs. "You know, a little embarrassment never hurt anyone," she says and eyes you up and down, locking her eyes with yours. "Besides, you're kinda cute when you're flustered."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Why are you doing this???"

She laughs, finally satisfied, and lets herself fall on the couch. "You know," she speaks truthfully, "there's something about you that's just too irresistible."

"Yeah, you aren't the only one."

Suddenly, you feel Danielle's intense gaze on you. "Who else is teasing you? Girls?"

"Sometimes?"

"Oh, that's not good. They have to know you're taken."

You raise an eyebrow. You don't sense anything good coming. "What are you talking about now?"

"I was thinking, maybe I should leave my scent on you. You know, like marking my territory. That way, other girls will know you're taken."

You blink repeatedly, utterly bewildered.

"Leave your scent? Danielle, we're not animals."

Danielle chuckles.

"Just imagine it – you walk into a room, and everyone's like, –Oh, they smell like Danielle. They're off the market!–"

"You've been watching too many nature documentaries."

"Shut up and come here."

Danielle snuggles closer, her energy warming the room and your body. You feel her arms quickly wrapping around your body and her legs tangling into yours and before you knew it, she was already spooning you. After all these years of doing so, she has gotten quite good at it. "You know, you really should loosen up. It's just a cuddle between old friends."

You shift uncomfortably, a bit against her although her lively insistence was stronger than your will. "Danielle, seriously, we're not kids anymore. We can't just... cuddle like this."

She tilts her head, studying you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on! Don't be such a grown-up. We used to do this all the time when we were kids. It's nostalgic!"

You sigh, giving in a bit. "Yeah, but things are different now."

Danielle was a slim girl, petite. She felt small although you were the one under her grasp, and her limbs were delicate and fragile. She felt small but soft as well. She was an adult now, and her touch made your heart beat faster, in a way it never did.

Danielle grins, unphased. "Different doesn't have to mean worse."

"But seriously," Danielle says with curiosity, "you used to be the one initiating these cuddle sessions. What happened to that fearless little kid?"

You blush, a rare occurrence for the reserved you. "Well, things change. People change."

Danielle's eyes soften, and she nudges you gently. You can smell her perfume and it calms you. "Change isn't always bad, you know."

You can't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. Danielle, her head still nestled against your shoulder, can't resist the opportunity to tease you. "You know, I always thought you were the bravest little knight in our little adventures when we were young."

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "A knight, huh? I'm not sure I see the resemblance."

Danielle chuckles, tracing imaginary patterns on your arm. A soft red starts to appear on your cheek. "Oh, please! You were my protector, always ready to face imaginary dragons and monsters. What happened to that fearless warrior?"

"Well, maybe I outgrew the knight phase."

Danielle leans back, looking at you with a sly grin. "Outgrew, or maybe you're just afraid to admit that deep down, you still have a bit of that brave knight in you."

You roll your eyes, but a small smile lingers on your face.

"Did you remember when I told you I'd be your princess? I still mean it you know?" she says, as if it was nothing.

You realize the meaning of her words and can't fathom any response, and Danielle can't help but enjoy the gentle blush that colors your cheeks. She teases you further, "You're blushing, Mr. Grown-up. Who would've thought the mighty knight would be so easily flustered?"

You mumble something incoherent, avoiding her gaze.

That was typical of you and your friend: constant teasing and joking. But you knew you wanted something more from her and you were just running around, trying to avoid it. One day, however, it finally came to you, knocking at your door, and you had to face it head-on.

You hear a loud frantic knocking on your door. The sudden noise surprises you and you get slowly, weary of who might be on the other end. The knocking doesn't stop and you look into the peephole. To your surprise, it wasn't a killer coming for you but it was your friend, Danielle, and from the looks of it, with her disheveled hair and tired eyes, she wasn't looking so good. You open the door and she bursts inside your apartment, drenched from head to toe, dripping water everywhere.

"Whoa, Danielle! What happened to you?" you exclaim.

She shakes herself like a wet dog, sending droplets flying, and brushes her wet strands away from her forehead to look at you in the eyes. "Caught in a sudden downpour. I practically swam here!"

You chuckle and walk to the bathroom. "Don't move!" you tell her as you go grab some towels. You don't want her wetting the whole house as well. "Well, you certainly look like you went for a swim."

Danielle takes the towel, but instead of immediately drying off, she shoots you a mischievous grin. "You look quite excited about seeing me, don't you?"

You raise an eyebrow and look at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Danielle pretends to inspect her soaked clothes with exaggerated concern, scanning her shirt, and her skirt. She opens her arms and invites you to look at her clothes. "Oh, no. I think these clothes might be see-through now. But I'm sure you already noticed. I can feel you glued on me."

You immediately understand what she's trying to say. You roll your eyes and grow. "Danielle, come on. Don't be ridiculous."

She smirks, wringing out her hair over the towel. "Ridiculous? Or am I just giving you a little peek? You know it's fine. I didn't tell you not to look."

You blush, trying to play it cool. "You're impossible. I'm lucky it's just the two of us. Otherwise, I might get in trouble." You hate to agree with Danielle, but it was impossible for you not to notice her figure, perfectly feminine, perfectly grown, and perfectly beautiful. You gulp loudly and stare at the wall.

Danielle giggles, sauntering over to me with a playful twirl of her wet hair. "Well, I can't let you miss out on the view, can I?" She laughs again as you shoot a quick sideeye at her. "Oh, did I catch you looking again?"

"Come on! No, I didn't."

Danielle comes closer, she's having fun, too much fun. She sways her hips, brushing your chest, leaving wet handprints on your shirt and looks at you with such a teasing smile that you couldn't do anything but blush and back intot he wall. "Oh, don't look away, baby."

"Danielle, cut it out," you stammer, my cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultrier tone. "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

You try to look away, but Danielle continues to playfully tease you. Then she laughs, finally satisfied.

"Okay, okay, I'm just messing with you!" she confesses, wiping away a tear of laughter. "I couldn't resist seeing you squirm."

You sigh in relief, but your embarrassment lingers. "You're unbelievable, Danielle."

She giggles while running away.

You go to your room to pick up some clothes for her, unfortunately you got nothing else to give her but your own clothes. You try the smallest size possible, so at least she wouldn't have to swim in them. You smell them first, to make sure, she won't be annoyed by an unwanted smell, then think if she'd feel cold or not—the house was quite warm on the inside. You knew she always liked to wear shorts, so you get a pair and a shirt and sweater to match.

You hand her the clothes, "Here, these should be more comfortable than wet clothes."

Danielle, takes them and smiles brightly. "Oh, I didn't know you were such a considerate boyfriend," she says. You start blushing but this time she's blushing too between her creased cheeks. You chuckle nervously, dismissing the comment.

"It's nothing," you say and then point the bathroom. "You've already been here before. Go change there or take a shower if you want."

"I'll just change, thank you. Don't peek at me though, okay?"

"What are you saying? Of course I won't," you reply.

She grins and runs into the bathroom to put on your outfit. It doesn't take her a while before she emerges wearing your oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair slightly toused. You have to admit, she looked adorable. The way the hoodie was way too big for her, and how the shorts let you peek at her legs, it was amazing.

It almost looked like she was your girlfriend, and she knew it too.

"Look at me, wearing your clothes," she says, raising her arms. "It's like we're in some romantic drama."

"It's just because your clothes are wet. Don't read too much into it."

Danielle continues, batting her eyelashes dramatically. She looks at you with wide eyes. "You've never offered me your clothes before. Are you sure you're not secretly seeing me as your girlfriend?"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just clothes," you say, but her words can't leave your mind. You almost agreed.

"But these clothes smell like you," she says, taking a sniff at it. You blush brightly. "Am I stealing your scent now?"

The situation looks absurd and you're getting more and more flustered but still, you had to keep your cool. "Don't overthink it."

She bursts into laughing and jumps into the couch. "You're so cute when you deny things. Maybe I should keep wearing your clothes more often."

Trying to hide his embarrassment, you manage a weak smile. "Sure, Dani, make yourself at home."

You and Danielle keep joking around until something starts to bother your friend. She looks at the sky, more precisely at the rain, as it runs down the window, and her smile starts to fade.

Danielle turns to you and her face drops into a malinconic gaze, her eyes are half there, they're thinking about something else, but you feel the weight on you. "You know, I'm starting to feel like a fool," she says with a sigh.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden intensity in her tone. "What do you mean?"

Danielle paces the room, her agitation pouring out with every step. "You've known for ages how I feel about you. I've dropped hints, practically spelled it out, and yet you never do anything."

Bewildered, you look at her. You couldn't lie to her, you wish you could say you never realized it, but you did. You did know she was flirting with you and you did hear what she told you, clearly and explicitly. But you didn't want to accept it, you didn't want to believe it. "I... I don't realize you feel that way. I think we're just really good friends," you say and truly, you didn't think a girl like her would have any serious intentions behind her smile.

She halts, turning to face you, frustration etched on her features. "Really good friends? You and I spend hours together, we share our deepest thoughts, and I've been giving you every possible sign that I like you. How do you miss it?"

You stammer, attempting to find the right words. "I don't think... I mean, I think you're just being friendly. I never imagined you feel something more. I thought you were just messing with me."

Danielle sighs."That's the problem. You never imagine. You never consider the possibility that my feelings might extend beyond friendship. I've been dropping hints, practically shouting them, and you remain oblivious. Did it ever go through your mind?"

You run a hand through your hair, frustration mirrored in your eyes. "I never mean to hurt you, Danielle. I just... I didn't see it."

Her eyes narrow, the pent-up frustration reaching its peak. "That's precisely it. You don't see it. You never see me. It's like I've been invisible, and no matter how much I hint, you never make a move."

Danielle's words knock the air out of your lungs. You've never seen Danielle this riled up and it hurt you to know you were the cause. You take a moment to trace back your words. Have you ever imagined a life with her? Have you ever wanted to have her to yourself? Have you ever desired her?

The answer was yes. You think deeply if it was fair for you to say that only after she basically begged you to acknowledge her, but it was true, you did like her and you didn't know you were allowed to.

Danielle takes another deep breath, attempting to compose herself, but the frustration continues to spill out. "I've liked you for so long. I think you might feel the same way, but you never make a move. I've been stuck in this limbo, unsure if you even see me as more than a friend. It's driving me insane."

Your eyes soften, a mix of regret and realization settling in. "I didn't mean to make you feel invisible, Danielle. I've just been clueless, and I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She shakes her head, her frustration giving way to a sense of vulnerability. "It's not just about now. It's about all those moments before, the missed opportunities. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen."

As Danielle's words linger in the air, a heavy silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of rain tapping against the window.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Danielle," you begin. "I've been so focused on convincing myself that you couldn't possibly feel that way about me, that I never stopped to consider how you might be feeling. I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me."

Danielle's gaze softens, a mix of frustration and hurt still lingering. "You're not off the hook that easily. You can't just apologize and expect me to believe you."

You nod. "You're right. I messed up, and I can't change that. But I can be honest with you now. The truth is, I've been afraid. Afraid of ruining our friendship, afraid of facing my own feelings. It's not an excuse, just an explanation."

Danielle raises an eyebrow and folds her arms. "Afraid? You?"

You chuckle wryly. "Fear doesn't always make sense. And I guess I've been scared of admitting that I like you too."

Her eyes widen, she's surprised "You do?"

You nod, your vulnerability laid bare. You hope you didn't make a mistake but you couldn't hold it in, it was now or never. "Yes, Danielle. I do. I've liked you for a while, but I never thought you could feel the same way. I convinced myself it was just a dream."

She tilts her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, Mr. Fearless finally admits he's not invincible."

You grin, the tension between you starting to dissipate.

Danielle steps closer, a playful glint in her eyes. As the rain outside continues its rhythmic dance, Danielle takes your hand. "No more hiding, okay? Let's figure this out together."

And for the first time, you hug her first. Your hand gently pulls her and she lets herself go, straight into your arms. You hug her softly, but with passion, with happiness. Danielle does the same, for the first time, not to tease you and not to try to make you fall in love because for once, she knows in her heart you truly love her.

THE END

Written, 16 February - 22 February 2024

#Kpop #Kpop fluff #newjeans hanni #Newjeans #Danielle #newjeans danielle #Danielle fluff

433 notes · View notes

works-of-fanfiction · 9 months

Text

Kiss and Make Up || Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Summary: With the couple on a break, it’s hard for Daniel to see Y/N, especially when she’s looking so good in his favourite dress.

Song: Kiss and Make Up - Dua Lipa & BLACKPINK

Warnings: 18+ oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. A little bit of swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

a/n: I think (???) I’m getting a little better at writing smut. one day I swear I will write one without giggling after every sentence. enjoy!

Daniel's blood boils as he watches her, watches his girl at the centre of attention of his fellow drivers. He wants to be angry at her for entertaining them in the first place, but he's angrier at his so-called friends for gawking at her and passing off their obvious flirting as 'just being nice'. It's annoying because she knows she looks good - incredible, in fact - an emerald green satin dress hanging perfectly on her body, displaying just enough leg to be considered dangerous. It bothered him even more that he chose that particular dress, and now she was parading around in it for everyone to see; for everyone to stare and drool over her. He didn't like it one bit, but he didn't have a choice.

It was his fault that they were on a break. He'd lashed out, said horrible things. Tension had been brewing between them for a couple of weeks and she could sense he was about to burst. She hadn't done anything wrong; he could see that now. He'd had more than enough time to sit with his thoughts and come to regret everything he'd said, but she hadn't been interested in hearing his apology. At first, in his anger, he'd blamed her friends. He was convinced their influence had led her to her decision, that they'd been whispering in her ear and plotting against him for some time. However, deep down he knew it was nobody's fault but his own.

The 'will he, won't he' situation at Alpha Tauri had gotten the best of him. His overwhelming desire to race took up all of his attention, leaving Y/N completely on the sidelines. She'd understood, of course she had. Racing was Daniel's dream and she knew how important it was for him to find a seat and get back out on the track, but when things seemed to get difficult and look uncertain, Daniel directed his frustrations towards her.

"You're a fucking coward, d'you know that? Who are you to stand here and speak to me like that?"

"Oh, drop the bigger person act, Y/N. It wasn't too long ago that you were going through a rough time and - "

"Don't you fucking dare. You know that doesn't compare to the way you've been behaving. It is completely different."

"You know how important this is to me. Sorry, but I think I'm allowed to be a little stressed." He held his hands up in mock surrender which only irritated her further.

"A little stressed, yes. A total asshole? No."

"Where are you going?" He asked, watching her scoop up her phone and keys from the counter and stuff them into her pocket.

"Anywhere you are not. I can't be around you when you're like this, Daniel." Her voice cracked as she turned away, but she didn't allow him to see her cry. He may not have approved of her being the bigger person, but it's what she had to do. A text a couple of hours later confirmed her need for space, and after spending thirty straight minutes trying to type a response, Daniel realised he had to respect her wishes.

“Here.” Max interrupts, sliding a drink into Daniel’s hand.

“What’s this?”

“I couldn’t stand and watch you stare at her any longer. At least with a drink in your hand you actually look like you’re at this party and not just a creepy stalker.” He chuckles into his glass, the joke going over Daniel’s head, not even bringing the slightest smirk to his lips.

Max gulps, wincing a little at the strength of his drink. “Just go talk to her.” He says, eyes flicking between his friend and Y/N.

“I can’t. She wants space and I have to respect that.”

“Yeah, but anyone can see you’re not okay with that…”

Daniel knew Max had a point. As much as he wanted to give Y/N the space she needed and do everything he could to fix their relationship, he hated being away from her. He hated sitting across the room whilst she pretended he wasn’t there. She hadn’t looked at him once throughout the entire evening and it was starting to aggravate him. He needed to talk to her, even if it was just to find out how she was doing. He didn’t even know if that was a question he had the right to ask, but he wanted to anyway.

Plus, the way she was strutting around in those heels and playfully fixing her hair every few minutes was driving him insane. His eyes couldn’t resist following the trail from her feet, up her legs and to her hips. If she so much as leaned over the bar or stretched to grab something, he’d see beneath the thin green satin and hopefully find out she was wearing tiny, or perhaps no underwear.

He fidgets uncomfortably in his seat, setting his glass down on the table before his knuckles turn white from gripping it so tightly. As Y/N takes Carlos’ hand and twirls beneath his arm, Daniel jumps up from the stool, holding onto the table to steady his feet. “Hey, come on. You know they’re good friends.” Max warns, holding an arm out to try and stop him.

“Make your mind up, Max. You told me to go and talk to her.” He doesn’t even look at Max as he speaks, as his gaze remains fixed on Y/N whilst she dances with the Ferrari driver. There’s nothing suggestive between their dance, and it’s not the first time Daniel has seen them together like this, but he’s suddenly not as comfortable with it as he usually is.

“I think you should calm down a bit first.” Max tries to be stern with the older driver, but he knows his words are going through one ear and straight out the other side. Daniel glances at the Dutchman and gives only a second of thought to his words, then chooses to ignore them entirely.

Stepping past Max’s arm, he makes his way into the crowd and closer to Y/N. Mid-conversation, Charles and Pierre’s heads turn to the Australian as he weaves around clumsy partygoers, almost parting the room in two to get through. The two of them shuffle closer to the bar to get a better view as he reaches Carlos and places a hand on his shoulder.

“Can I cut in?” He asks, once again not bothering to look at who he’s speaking to. Instead he looks down at Y/N, who glares up at him with cold, unblinking eyes.

“Sure.” Carlos mutters, stepping aside, failing to notice Y/N tightening her grip on his hand to try and stop him. Daniel takes his place, his hands awkwardly hovering near her waist.

“Are you going to wrap your arms around me, or just stand there?” She asks abruptly, her tone coming out a lot more aggressively than she’d intended.

Daniel’s hands find her waist and pull her closer, making sure no one else can hear their conversation. Her hands are pressed against his chest awkwardly, all attention concentrating on her feet so she doesn’t fall.

“What do you want, Daniel?” She sighs, exasperation and downright exhaustion evident in her voice. This makes Daniel’s stomach turn and part of him wants to fall to the ground and beg for her forgiveness. He never thought he’d see the day when he’d be the one to make her feel like this. She was disappointed in him, and he was kicking himself for ever uttering a bad word to her.

“I need to apologise - “

“No, you just needed to get me on my own away from the guys.”

Her icy tone catches him off guard, but he feels he deserves it. As much as he’s desperate to finally apologise, he can’t deny that seeing her spending her night with everyone but him was making him jealous. He’d watched her friendships with the drivers blossom over time, especially Carlos and Lance, yet seeing their arms around her and smiles aimed in her direction tonight drove him crazy.

“Am I wrong?” She mocks, reluctantly wrapping her arms around his neck for the sake of her own comfort.

Daniel chooses not to answer, which is an answer in itself. She sniggers, looking off to the side to see the group all engaged in conversation with one another. She knows they’re all putting on an act and pretending not to eavesdrop. Those drivers love a gossip just as much as the next person.

“I don’t like seeing you with them.” Daniel finally admits, his voice low. He doesn’t intend for the entire grid to know his business.

“It’s never bothered you before.”

“Well this time is different.”

“How?”

“Because you’re not speaking to me.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Silence falls between the couple, Y/N’s hold around Daniel’s neck loosening. He reaches up and grabs her hands, readjusting them and holding her wrists tightly. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” She asks, glaring up at him, a devious smile poking at her lips.

“Don’t try to walk away from me.” He lets go of her arms, letting them float down to her sides as he leans in close, lips pressed against her ear. “Especially not when you’re dressed like that.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes at his words. A poor and sorry attempt at winning her back, yet completely expected from Daniel. “You think sex is going to fix this?”

“Who said anything about sex?” He plays dumb but she sees straight through him. That had always been a thing in their relationship; they were both terrible liars, or rather couldn’t lie to each other as the other could always spot it.

Stepping back, she calls over to Kika who’s stood between Pierre and Charles, tracing circles around the rim of her glass. “Bathroom.” She smiles and Kika nods, slipping away from the table.

Daniel sees this and steps forward, blocking Kika’s path. “Actually, she doesn’t need you to go with her.”

“Daniel - “ Y/N snaps, cut off by his arm linking with hers and pulling her in the direction of the bathrooms.

“Come on.” He barges through the doors, squeezing the two of them into the first stall and turning the lock.

“I can’t believe you just spoke to Kika like that.” She whispers angrily, yanking her arm out of his grasp.

“She’ll get over it.”

“Pierre won’t.”

Y/N folds her arms over her chest, leaning against the flimsy cubicle as Daniel’s eyes wander around the small space. She sighs, heels scraping against the ground as she stands back up straight. “Well you got me here. What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“Actually, I don’t. Did you bring me in here to apologise… or was there something else?” There’s a shift in her tone and a look in her eye that Daniel instantly recognises. He knows she’s still angry at him, but sees there’s a part of her that wants him just as much as he wants her.

Sparing her a proper response, he slips a knee between her legs and pushes her against the wall. It shakes a little, encouraging a small smile to appear on her face. “You disappoint me, Ricciardo.” She purrs, running a perfectly manicured finger across his jaw.

“Something tells me you’re not so disappointed.” He grinds his knee upwards, pressing it against her clothed pussy. She groans, body slumping forward in pleasure. He catches her with his chest, pushing her back up, keeping her upright against the wall. “Does that sound like the moans of a disappointed woman?”

“Shut up.” She hisses, delicate fingers wrapping around his throat to pull him in for a kiss. Daniel moans, the sound strangled as her nails dig into his neck. The kiss is entirely in her control as she holds him in place, squeezing his throat just enough to make his breath hitch. She draws back, sucking his tongue between her lips and letting it go with a quiet popping sound.

“If we do this, it doesn’t magically fix anything.” She breathes, releasing her grip on him to rest her hand on his chest.

Daniel is smart enough to know better, and knows that hasty sex in a bathroom stall isn’t going to mend all of their problems, but he’s too turned on and fuelled by liquid courage to care. Running his hand over the top of hers, he links their fingers and flips her around to face the wall, pressing her palm flat against the cold wood. She yelps in surprise as he uses his free hand to hike her dress up. He’s delighted to see the black lace that’s barely covering her, and he hooks his forefinger through the waistband to pull her ass towards him. “Planned on getting lucky tonight, huh?” He taunts, his fingers tracing the patterns in the lace.

“I was hoping one of the guys would take me home.” She quips sarcastically, bending over more and grinding her ass against his hand. Daniel groans, letting go of her hand so he can use both freely. He grabs her ass and spreads her legs, his mouth falling open at the sight of her pussy peeking through her underwear.

Wasting no time, he drops to his knees and pushes the thin string to the side, giving him full access to the part of her he needs the most. Feeling his hot breath against her exposed cunt, she gasps, parting her legs even further. “That’s it.” Daniel hums, taking his middle finger and running it slowly through her folds. Y/N’s legs quiver as he touches her, barely inserting a finger as he concentrates on circling her pussy and feeling just how soaked she is. His finger eventually finds its way to her clit, flicking gently against the swollen bud, making her whole body twitch with arousal.

She moans his name, the word elongated on her tongue. He stops for a second, lying his hand flat against her core. “Shh… You don’t want people hearing us now, do you?” He whispers.

Squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip to suppress any further sounds, Y/N nudges Daniel with her leg, urging him to continue. Instead, he grabs her thighs and pulls her closer to him, her feet sliding along the slippery tiled floor. “Let me taste you, baby.” The sound of his voice disappears between her legs, her thighs almost cupping his cheeks as he finds her clit with his tongue. The tip of his tongue swipes across her clit, slowly then repetitively in a rhythm. His hands hold onto her thighs tightly, his fingers leaving indentations in the supple skin.

Y/N sinks her teeth into the back of her hand, trying her best to stay quiet. Saliva and bite marks cover the spot just above her wrist whilst Daniel buries his head further and laps up her pussy like a starving animal. His nose pokes between her folds, and the newfound friction elicits a heavy exhale from deep within her chest.

Desperate to keep that nose she loves so much as close to her as possible, she reaches behind to grab Daniel’s head and guide him to the perfect spot. Fingers tangling in his hair and clutching at the roots, she rides his face, relishing in the feeling of his tongue flat against her clit, and the tip of his nose pressing into her. Daniel holds his breath as she ruts her hips against his face, gripping her thighs until it hurts. She winces, tensing the muscles as she rests her forehead against the wall, teeth still gnawing on her hand. He grunts, the sound sending a vibration to her clit and throughout her entire body, making her knees buckle beneath her. He catches her, supporting her body with his hands alone as he delves his face deeper to suck her clit into his mouth.

Losing all sense of caring, Y/N lets her hand fall free from her lips, releasing a stifled moan that echoes around the bathroom stall. Her thighs squeeze together involuntarily as she comes, and Daniel has to prize them open to set himself free. He stands, hands fumbling with his jeans as he sloppily lays kisses on the back of her shoulder, his chin still slick with moisture, so much so that Y/N can smell her own scent filling the air.

“What did I tell you about staying quiet?” Daniel whispers, his lips barely touching the back of her ear.

“I’m sort of sick of you telling me what to do.” She retorts, attempting to hide the shakiness in her voice. Daniel rolls his eyes, trying to ignore her words as he pushes his jeans and boxers down his legs, leaving them bunched around his ankles. He knows she’s not just talking about the present, but he’s too desperate to feel her wrapped around his cock to let it bother him. He hasn’t been able to touch her for weeks, and seeing her spread wide for him like this is enough to almost push him to the edge already.

Hands gripping her dress around her waist, he pulls her towards him, sliding his cock inside her effortlessly. Mutual gasps of pleasure and hissed curse words slip off of their tongues as he bottoms out inside of her, his clammy hands losing grip of the satin. Reaching round to grab her arms, he crosses her wrists and holds them behind her back, forcing her cheek against the wall to support her upper body. There’s an aggression to his actions, one hand holding her wrists and another snaking its way into her hair. Tugging her head back, he leans forward, his face beside hers. She looks at him through her peripheral vision, a smug smile on her face as she notices his slack jaw and half-lidded eyes. Daniel was never truly in control when it came to Y/N. The effect she had on him was dangerous and made him want to do things unimaginable. All she had to do was look at him a certain way and he’d literally and figuratively drop to his knees for her.

Daniel’s slow thrusts tell her that he doesn’t plan on lasting very long. Despite his tight hold on her and rough fingers in her hair, his hips roll in leisurely circles, the tip of his cock stroking her g-spot in a deliciously torturous rhythm. The restroom door creaks, a collection of footsteps clattering along the floor outside. With shadows passing the stall and voices filling the space, Daniel drops his hand from Y/N’s hair, instead using it to cover her mouth and keep her quiet. She tilts her head, sucking his forefinger into her mouth, her tongue wet and warm and making Daniel’s cock twinge inside of her. He moans, trying to swallow the sound so nobody will hear.

Daniel’s wet finger trails out of her mouth and down her neck, drawing a line of her own saliva along her throat. Wrapping his arm across her upper body, he holds her close as he fucks her, the heat between them making his shirt stick to his chest. Beads of sweat run down the back of Y/N’s neck and under her dress. Even beneath the harsh bathroom lighting, her skin glistens and looks good enough for Daniel to taste, to lick clean.

Voices gather at the sinks, water running and paper towels unravelling from the holders. Daniel silently prays for them to hurry up and leave, the feeling of Y/N’s pussy clenching around his dick becoming too much to bear. The muffled sounds of the music outside briefly fill the room, before disappearing behind the door. He releases his breath with a long groan, his body slumping against hers. “Finally.” He hisses, stepping back and pulling her ass with him, bending her into a perfect L-shape.

Relieved to be alone again, their pants and moans circle around the stall as Daniel drives his hips back and forth, quickening the pace. His firm grip on her ass cheeks leaves little white outlines around his fingers as he coaxes himself to climax. Hearing the sweet sounds coming from her mouth sends him over the edge, his thighs stiffening as he comes inside her, his body jolting forward in ecstasy. She straightens, resting her body against the wall with Daniel pressed against her back, his sweaty forehead slumped onto her shoulder. He pulls out with a huff, his cock leaking with cum and legs feeling sore.

Y/N readjusts and pulls her dress down, smirking to herself as she feels cum drip out of her and pool inside her underwear. She runs her hands through her hair, hoping she looks presentable as she turns to face Daniel. He zips his jeans and smiles at her, but doesn’t earn a smile back. “I told you, this doesn’t change anything.” She states flatly, reaching for the lock. He stops her, taking her hand in his.

“Come home with me.” He pleads, running his thumb softly over her knuckles, a stark contrast to the way he’d touched her just a few minutes prior.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Daniel’s expression remains serious. He opens his mouth to repeat himself, but she cuts him off with a defeated sigh. “Fine. But we leave now. I don’t need to be dealing with questions.”

“Deal.” He smiles, earning an eye roll from her as she unlocks the door and heads out, her heels clicking against the tile. He follows close behind, the satisfied grin never leaving his face.

#f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 fics #f1 oneshots #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 smut #Spotify

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w2sology · 7 months

Text

morning scrunches, harry lewis.

summary: mornings with harry and baby bog

warnings: girldad!harry, cuteness overload!!!

waking up besides harry had quickly become one of your favourite things ever since the two of you began dating. his face being the first that you saw everyday was just so refreshing and bought you so much comfort.

today was no different, your hand naturally coming up to caress the side of your boyfriend's face as he slept peacefully. before you'd gone to bed, your head was on harry's chest but now, it seems the roles had reversed and harry's head was now on your chest, his arms wrapped securely around your body.

turning to the bedside table on your side, you checked the baby monitor, seeing your baby girl was still asleep.

using that as an excuse for a couple more minutes of cuddles, you inched closer to harry, feeling him readjust his head on your chest.

a few moments after, you heard harry groan, waking himself up after a good night's sleep. and like he did every morning, he searched for you, smiling through tired eyes once he found your beautiful face.

"morning, love," he rasped, kissing your cheek.

"morning, babe."

now that harry was up, you checked the baby monitor again, seeing your little sleeping beauty was wide awake, just feeling rather quiet this morning.

"d'you want me to go get her?" harry asked.

"no, it's alright, i'll get her."

the two of you often took it in turns to do the morning shifts, as you called them. one of you would tend to your baby and settle her down or get her ready for the day, whilst the other got to breakfast and making sure the rest of you were ready for the day.

walking to the nursery, you outwardly awed at the sight of your little bundle of joy, picking her out of her cot. the newborn scrunch was something you absolutely adored and would definitely miss as she got older.

"hello, my precious girl!" you cooed as she smiled a gummy smile, reaching for your face as you held her near you. "let's go say morning to daddy, hm?"

the first time you say harry interact with your daughter, you almost gave him another. he was such a natural with babies, people were surprised to find out he head a mild feat of them.

walking back to your bedroom, you saw harry had moved positions, his body now sat up against the headboard as the sheets rested around his waist, exposing his naked upper body.

he put his phone down as soon as he saw you and your daughter walk into the room, smiling so hard his cheeks were starting to hurt.

"look who's awake," he gushed as you handed her over to him, sitting right besides him. resting your chin on harry's shoulder, you watched how he interacted with your daughter, your heart swelling at the sight.

he kissed both her cheeks, watching as she squirmed and smiled at her dad's touch, her small hand holding his finger, grasping so tight as if it was all she knew.

"i'm gonna get started on breakfast," you spoke softly to harry, leaving as he nodded and kissed your forehead.

it was actually his turn to make breakfast, but seeing how occupied he was with your little girl, you were sure you could manage another day of making breakfast.

meanwhile, harry spent that time talking to baby girl about everything and nothing, things he did with her uncles lately, how big olive was getting and the playdates that they'd be able to have soon, things he'd seen that reminded him of her mother, how beautiful her mother was... literally rambling to an 8 week old about whatever came to his mind.

"did you know i actually wanted to call you bog? yeah, your mum put a straight end to that dream. you'll still be mini bog to me though," you heard as you came back into the room, laughing to yourself at the almost name of your baby girl.

"breakfast's ready," you mumbled against harry's skin as you kissed his cheek, giving your daughter one too. "oh look, you changed her! she's so adorable, i might cry."

"oh, please don't, you'll set her off again." harry rolled his eyes as you nudged him.

the next few moments were filled with a comfortable silence as your baby glanced between her parents, a serene look on her face.

"can you believe we made her?" you sighed.

"i can believe it, yes, because that's what happens when two people───"

"harry! gosh, i'm trying to be sentimental here." you groaned at his inability to be serious.

he laughed in response to your reaction, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as his other arm was being used to hold the tiny human. "i'm joking, i promise. but i get what you mean. like we're actually parents."

"still feels unreal."

"mhm. but," he said, facing you. "i wouldn't change it for the world."

humming at his words, you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, a hand on his cheek as you stared at him lovingly. "me neither."

#wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #sidemen #sidemen x reader #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw imagines #harry lewis #harry lewis x reader

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sneakyparsnipslicer · 4 months

Text

Power Play

It was never meant to have happened, but in all fairness I'm glad it did. I do have an unspoken duty of care after all.

I'm Gavin, 22, studying at Uni for theatre. Friends have always said I've got an uncanny talent for acting, able to hide how I'm feeling, telling the most convincing lies, but despite that I do have an earnest care for my friends and for some that's a big deal.

So, it all happened one Friday night, some of the girl friends were hosting a house party. Alcohol, music, conversation, the usual. My friend Janice had asked if I was free earlier and invited me. I hadn't seen her all week so the chance to catch up is always welcome. I put on my best clothes and headed off to the house which thankfully wasn't too far from my own place. I brought along some Amaretto for the party and got to mingling with others. I arrived quite early so there weren't too many people around and I got the chance to meet the partygoers and meet up with Janice.

'Hey Gav, glad you could make it! Got some pretty big news!' whispered Janice excitedly in my ear.

'Really? What is it?' I asked eagerly. She waved her left hand in front of my face, a gold ring on her finger. My jaw dropped.

'Tina proposed to me, we're getting married in the New Year!' she cried. I smiled and hugged her. Tina was a friend of ours and had confided to me in secrecy that she had a crush on Janice, and over the space of a year it looks like they'd both hit it off really well.

'Congrats, that's awesome!' I cried. 'Is Teen here tonight?'.

'Yeah she's just over in the other room, I'll go get her' said Janice, and she made her way through to the kitchen. I sat down on the sofa and waited a while. More and more partygoers arrived and as the night went on I forgot about Janice and Tina.

Getting progressively tipsy and humming along to 'Tainted Love', someone slumped down on the sofa next to me.

'Fuck them lesbians' sighed a voice. I opened my eyes and looked to my right, there sat a guy that looked about 30 with a bottle of Budweiser in his hand, shaking his head.

'What's up?' I asked, looking to him in concern. The guy looked to me and shrugged.

'Same fucking story everywhere I go, I see a cute girl, magically they're gay. Swear every fucker's gay these days' he said, taking a sip of his drink. I didn't say anything, took a sip of my drink and looked across the room. I could see past the crowd by the doorway was Janice. She was consoling Tina, who was crying. We caught eachother's eyes and I tilted my head subtly to the guy next to me, she nodded and kissed Tina on the head. I understood the situation.

'So how about you my man? You smashing some puss tonight?' the guy asked, looking me up and down. I turned to him and smiled.

'Nah mate, I'm more for the buss!' I replied, winking. The guy almost spat his drink out.

'Fuck off mate, you ain't gay!' he said laughing. I sighed.

'Oh sorry, were you expecting something more like this?' I asked, dangling my wrist and swiping the air camply. He laughed again, looking at me in disbelief.

'For a moment there I could've sworn you were straight' he said.

'Well you know, not all of us act camp, I like what I like but keep it on the down low' I replied, to which he nodded. I felt like I needed to move this along.

'Say, do you work out?' I asked, looking to his arms. He looked and flexed his right arm.

'Ah, you like what you see?' he asked smugly, grinning. I nodded and took another sip of my drink. He chuckled softly.

'You know, I've never tried a guy before' he said quietly, leaning in a little closer.

'Might be your lucky night' I suggested. He started nodding and bit his lower lip, taking a good look at me. I could have cackled at how easy it was to get him invested.

'What do you say we go find somewhere quiet to… break some new ground?' he asked, chuckling. I could have suplexed myself from the eye roll I wanted to do, but I had to keep my composure and giggled.

'Well, my place is just down the road, should give us a chance to get to know eachother better' I smiled. He drank the last of his drink and stood up. I happened to catch sight of his bulge as he offered a hand to lift me up, predictable. I tenderly placed my hand in his and he hoisted me up onto my feet, grinning.

'Let's get going then!' he said, heading off out of the house. I followed behind him, giving Janice a quick thumbs up and a wink as she nodded understandingly, mouthing the words 'Thank you'.

We returned to my place, him squeezing my ass and getting excited all the while. I unlocked the front door and invited him in. As soon as I was done locking the door, he made his move, pinning me to the door and burying his nose in my shoulder blade, taking a deep sniff.

'Mmm, you smell good!' he said. I rolled my eyes.

'It's Playboy' I said passively. He pulled his nose out.

'That's what I'll call you! Playboy!' he said, smiling maniacally.

'Sure thing, umm' I said, looking to him for a name.

'Just call me Daddy you cocksucking bitch!' he growled, pinning me further into the door and kissing my neck. Daddy, how fucking predictable. I could just see how this was going to go down. He pulled away and exhaled, stroking my chest.

'I'll bet you're a right little slut aren't you, Playboy?' he asked, fiddling with my shirt buttons, slowly revealing my chest.

'Oh for sure!' I grinned, moving in to kiss him. He hesitated but proceeded to kiss me back. I moved my hands behind his shoulders, embracing him. I could feel his dick pressing against my leg, he was totally enjoying it.

'Fuck me!' he said, dazed.

'Don't you mean fuck ME, Daddy?' I asked. He started laughing and moved his hands down to my thighs.

'Didn't think I'd ever be doing this with a guy, it feels so good' he said, looking into my eyes, amazed.

'Well, let's enjoy this then' I said, taking him by the hands and guiding him to my bedroom.

We got into the room and he thrust me down on the bed, biting his lip.

'Alright, strip down Playboy, nice and slow' he said, stroking his own crotch. I sat smirking as I kicked off my shoes and undid the last buttons on my shirt, taking it off and throwing it away. I went to unbuckle my belt when he stopped me.

'Come over here, I wanna try something' he said. Walking over he turned me around and began to unbuckle my belt whilst his cock was grinding against my butt. Always so cute when first timers try to be all freaky.

'You like that?' he asked, resting his chin on my left shoulder, watching as he pulled my shorts down.

'Yes Daddy' I said breathily, trying not to laugh. He dropped my shorts and began rubbing my butt through my boxers with his hands.

'Oh that ass feels so good Playboy, can't wait to explore it!' he whispered.

'I sure hope Daddy's packing tonight' I replied. With that he turned me back to face him, pulled me into a passionate kiss and carried me over to the bed, laying me down on it. Getting on top of me, he looked down as I looked back up at him. I began to pull at his shirt and he took it off, revealing his muscular chest, I'll admit it wasn't half bad. Then I began to unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down, which he kicked off and there we were on the bed in our boxers.

'Open Daddy's pants!' he ordered, and I nodded, slipping them down his thighs. His dick sprung free, big and girthy, just how I like them.

'Ooooh, Daddy's got a big one!' I remarked in surprise, looking at it. He placed a hand under my chin, lifting it up to face him.

'Suck it, Playboy' he said, and so I began to do so, placing it in my mouth and beginning the blowjob. As it went on, his face became more strained as he tried not to shoot his load.

'Shit, you're good!' he moaned, looking to the ceiling. Eventually he stopped me and turned me over, pulling my boxers down.

'Alright Playboy, going in!' he chuckled. I could have cackled there and then, but I had to withold on the irony of that line. He began to spread my ass cheeks and inserted the tip of his dick, which slipped in easily. Even he was shocked.

'Damn, I thought you'd be tighter!' he said.

'C'mon Daddy, I'm a whore remember? Don't ruin this for yourself' I replied, massaging his leg. He nodded and continued to ride my backside, shaking the bed doing so. I'll admit this guy fucked with feeling, and as it went on and he reached climax, he wasn't aware of what else was going on.

When he finally came, sweaty and panting, he whooped in amazement.

'Wow Playboy, that was amazing!' he laughed, pulling himself away, but he soon realised he couldn't remove his dick from my ass.

'What's the matter Daddy? Too balls deep in me to let go?' I asked, turning my head to look at him. To his horror, his hands were beginning to sink slowly into my back, his pelvic region already sunk furthest into mine, and our feet had merged.

'Yo, what the fuck's going on?!' he shouted, but he couldn't pull himself free, he continued to sink into me as I began to cackle.

'You just fucked your way into a whole lot of trouble my guy!' I replied, laughing as he struggled.

'Let me go you fucking freak!' he roared as our legs were fully joined and his arms had sunk in.

'You upset my friends tonight, 'Daddy'. The lesbians you were moaning about, they just got engaged and you just had to come along and ruin their day' I said coldly as his back and shoulders sank in, him yelling out for help.

'And for the record, the name's Gavin. Suits me well considering how many homophobic, misogynistic pricks like you I've been gathering up to stop my friends being harrassed' I explained. By now the guy's face had melted into the back of my head and his screams became more and more muffled. Eventually he was fully sunk inside me, his added mass stretching me out and I began jerking my own dick, getting off my bed and spunking a few heavy loads on the carpet, excising myself of him. I looked at the pool of cum as it began to dry into the carpet.

'That's all you ever were, just a stain on society's carpet. Thanks for the muscles though' I said, cracking my neck and massaging my new muscleculture, reaching for my clothes. Though I thought to slip on the guy's jeans, they fitted me pretty nicely.

Making my way back over to Janice's place, most of the partygoers were filling out of the house. I went back in and found Tina and Janice, their faces lit up.

'Gav! Did you take care of that bastard?' asked Janice hopefully.

'Hey, I'm wearing his jeans aren't I?' I asked, turning to show them off 'Plus he filled me out a bit'. Janice shook her head, but smiled.

'I don't know how you do it, but thank you' said Tina, bowing her head. I pulled them both into a hug.

'Forget about him, he won't be bothering anyone anymore. Nobody messes with my friends' I said, looking to them in admiration.

'You're definitely gonna be the Best Man at the wedding, you know that right?' asked Janice. I folded my arms and rolled my eyes.

'And here I was hoping to be Chief Bridesmaid, oh well!' I sighed, shrugging. Janice and Tina began chuckling as I turned my attention to cleaning up the empty bottles and beer cans that the guests had left.

#male tf #transformation #gay #merging

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sunnebeam · 10 months

Text

in the darkest little paradise.

A 'DARKEST LITTLE PARADISE' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), unprotected sex (bc it's fun to fantasize about in fictional situations but please use protection irl), small mentions of mafia shit (again), sex work

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: yet another smut drabble that's actually just a buildup for a whole ass wip! enjoy

— prev: (none) | next: and all the pieces fall

You're not much of a crybaby, not when life has a way of toughening you up.

But right now, with your legs high up in the sky as you lay on your back, your skin reveling in the soft velvet of the sheets, you blubber incoherently with uncontrollable tears streaming down your face.

The reason for your tears is wearing a smug look as he looks down at your pitiful, crying form.

"Why are you crying, princess?"

His thumb never leaves your clit just as his cock never leaves your warm, wet heat. But he doesn't move.

"Yoongi—"

"Yeah? What do you want?"

He's ruthless, rubbing circles on your sensitive nub but remaining otherwise motionless while he's balls deep inside you.

You hate crying. You hate pleading, as well. But Yoongi singlehandedly makes you do both.

After all, Min Yoongi owns the streets of Daegu. It should be a no-brainer that he owns your body, too.

He loves you like this, loves when your tough facade breaks just for him, loves when you whine and beg and plead to him, loves when you fall apart because of him.

"Yoongi," you whimper when he twitches inside you, "move."

If someone else tries ordering him around, they'd lose a limb.

But here you are, your pleas commanding him to fold to your every whim, your moans and lewd sounds spurring him to give you what you want.

And he does.

Yoongi starts off slow, knowing just how much you love the buildup despite your whining. He gathers a generous amount of spit in his mouth and lets it drop on your waiting cunt, groaning when he observes the mix of juices pooling between your spread legs where the two of you are joined.

"I've spoiled you too much," he teases, his hips starting to pick up a faster pace. "Bossing me around. Never saying please."

You're too fucked out to respond and it's not like he expects you to, anyway. Not when he starts jackhammering into you just the way you like it, and he begins to feel the fluttering of your walls.

"Yoongi," you sob, and as if to appease him, you chant, "please, please, please—"

And then you fall.

Yoongi loves it when you climax. You thrash around, hands gripping anything you can reach – the sheets, the bed posts, your hair, your tits. There's a beautiful vulnerability to the sight, a stark contrast to the tough, closed-off act you normally put on.

In truth, the both of you are closed-off people. But right here, with your cunt squeezing the life out of his dick, with your naked bodies connected in the most intimate of ways, he allows himself the same moment of vulnerability.

He falls. He reaches his peak and spills inside you, leaning down and groaning into your neck as you wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace.

Anyone looking at the two of you right now would think you're two lovers basking in the afterglow.

In another world, maybe. But in this dark little paradise, you can only wish.

Because he's Min Yoongi, the ruthless mob boss, the topdog of Daegu. And you're just a no-named prostitute, a whore, a nobody.

You know better than to dwell on it. So you suck it up, put on a face for him, and try to make the rest of his visit worth his while and worth his money.

After all, he's paying for you.

"Hey," he calls out just as the two of you are getting dressed. "Are you available tomorrow?"

"Oh, it's my day off tomor—"

"Not to work," he clarifies. "I mean, to go out."

Your eyebrows furrow.

"Out?" you repeat. "Out where?"

"To dinner."

You blink. "You want to take me out to dinner? Why?"

"Don't people usually go out for dinner to celebrate their birthdays?"

"My... birthday...? Wait, what?"

Yoongi just smirks. He then kisses your cheek before walking out the room with a quick, "I'll pick you up at seven," thrown over his shoulder.

You're dumbfounded. You're flustered. And truthfully, you're a bit excited. But most of all, you're confused.

Because how did Yoongi know tomorrow's your birthday?

#bts x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts x you #min yoongi x you #yoongi x you #suga x you #bts fic #yoongi fic #suga fic #min yoongi fic #cat.writes

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undreaming-fanfiction · 9 days

Text

Party Animal

Steve hated parties. And who could blame him? The infamous Halloween party of 1984 left more scars on his heart than he carried from all his other misadventures. Alcohol made people say thinks they buried deep inside, but then instead of owning up to them, they'd say "I was drunk", as if that was any excuse. So yes, Steve and parties didn't go together anymore.

And yet he stupidly decided to throw one anyway.

Look, they deserved it. All of them did - Eddie, Nancy, Robin, even Jonathan and Argyle, they all earned acting like actual teenagers for one evening. Steve wanted to see Eddie, now miraculously his boyfriend, just have fun, laugh, be silly. So a party it was.

It all went great - dancing, drinking, nibbling on mountains of Argyle's homemade pizza - but eventually they all got drunk. Not Steve, he just sipped one beer and kept an eye on everyone. Jonathan and Argyle were smoking outside, Nancy and Robin flirted in the most embarrassing way possible and Eddie...

Steve heard sniffling from the bathroom and his heart sank.

He didn't want to go there. He didn't want to be told that this was all a misunderstanding, that he pressured Eddie with his flirting, didn't want to hear he's bullshit again.

But no matter how terrified he was, he could never abandon Eddie. So he went in.

Eddie was leaning over the sink, wiping at his face and trying to control his breathing. "Shit..." he muttered and turned away from Steve. "Sorry, I...uh. I'll be there in a sec."

"Eddie..." It came out as a whisper. "Are...are you okay? Did I do something?"

Eddie just chuckled and pulled hair in front of his face. "Sure did," he mumbled.

And it made horrible sense to Steve. Of course he was the reason Eddie was crying. He couldn't help fucking up, he'd tried so hard to change but apparently it was 1984 all over again. So he took a deep breath and waited for the final blow.

"You're just perfect, Stevie."

Oh.

That wasn't what being broken up with sounded like. In fact, Eddie didn't seem angry at him at all. "...sorry?"

Eddie laughed, wet and high in his throat. "Like, you...you are too good to be true, you know? You throw a party for us and then you even don't drink so we're all cared for if anything happens? You...you give your best friend a green light to date your ex who shredded your heart to pieces? You invite the guy that your ex cheated on you with and his friend? You're just so good about it. And you're funny and so bitchy that I want to kiss you all the time. And I just...I love you so much, you know? And I've never felt that way about anyone and it's fucking scary, man."

Steve's racing thoughts came to a screching halt. Where he was too busy panicking and praying he'd still have time to fix whatever he did, now his brain settled on maybe I'm not getting broken up with? "So, uh..." he muttered as he watched Eddie try fix his eyeliner, "...there's, like, nothing wrong? Or maybe...do you want me to go slower? I know I can be a lot."

His boyfriend gave an incredulous laugh. There was no salvaging the eyeliner now, it was getting caught in Eddie's early crow feet, and Steve had never seen a more beautiful sight. "No, Steve. You're not a lot. In fact, you're just enough in every single way, but knowing that you're it for me, that good things can happen...it makes me terrified. I've never put all my drugs in a single lunchbox, or whatever metaphor you want to use for it, but with you I'm just throwing all the caution into the wind. And for the first time, I..." he stopped, chewing on his lip, "...I don't want to run away when I mess up. I want to stay, face the music and fix it. You're re-writing the Munson doctrine again and again and I just...I don't want you to settle for me, Steve. You are the whole package and I'm still cleaning all my messes. I guess today showed me that and I...yeah. Sorry about all this," he pointed at his tear-streaked face.

Eddie suddenly seemed so small, so insecure, and that wouldn't do. It woke Steve up from his frozen state and he took a step forward, cradling Eddie's face in his palms. "I'm not. Settling for you, that is." He was probably smudging the black even more, but Eddie would have been beautiful to him even fully covered in grime, and there were more important things to focus on. "Eddie, you keep talking about the Munson doctrine and being work in progress, but you don't see how you've thrown all the stuff I used to do out of the window, and I'm better for it. With you, I don't feel rushed, I don't have to perform or pretend. I can just live in the moment."

As he continued his speech, something strange started happening. Seeing people cry normally had a guaranteed effect on Steve - just one tear, quiet sob and he pushed his emotions down to be dealt with later or possibly never, someone needed him, and that was the priority. But now, staring at Eddie's wet eyes and shaky hands? He felt his own face crumbling and what better place to hide it than in Eddie's Metallica t-shirt. It smelled of cigarettes, pizza and the cheap laundry detergent that had come to mean home to Steve. "Sorry," he choked out. "Shit. I was...sorry, I'm supposed to be...you know. Consoling you. But I heard you crying and I thought...I..."

Eddie shook his head and tightened his grip on Steve's waist. "Oh Stevie. Whatever that pretty head of yours thought of, it's not happening. Unless it's kissing me, which duh, that's happening, if you want to of course, and staying with me to the point that you're sick of me."

Steve just whimpered into Eddie's shoulder, something that suspiciously sounded like "Now who's perfect, huh?"

His boyfriend just chuckled. "I guess that in a way, we both are. Maybe for each other?" If he'd aimed for self-deprecating tone, he failed. Instead, it was hopeful.

Steve didn't answer, but his embrace said it all.

They remained wrapped around each other for a long while, until Eddie whispered in Steve's ear: "how about we let the others celebrate on their own, hm? They won't be driving, their stuff is already in the guest bedrooms, and I hear your bed is wonderful this time of the year."

There was a muffled "yes" coming from Eddie's shoulder, and a few adjustments and "Good night!"s later, they found themselves in Steve's bedroom. Eddie managed to remove most of the rogue eyeliner, which was lucky. The time in the bathroom wasn't the last time he shed a tear that day, because as they were falling asleep, Steve said:

"You might be the first person who is dating the real me, and I'd like you to be the last one as well."

Tomorrow, he'd hold a funeral for the Munson doctrine. But today, he was going to wrap himself around Steve like a cuddly octopus and know that even if he doesn't manage to hold on tight the whole night, Steve would be there in the morning.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie drabble #background ronance #fluff and fluff and FLUFF #the first WIP out of a fuckton has been finished #yay #also I can't sleep who would have thought?

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citrustan · 5 months

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slipping through my fingers [2] (myg)

title: and the hits just keep coming 1.0

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut

summary: you lean on your friend for support and an escape, but the reality of your situation keeps flashing before you.

warnings: [there's a prologue and part 1 that should be read before this one!] just some insecurity, some sad vibes, you know the drill.

Taehyung fails to dodge the fifth pillow you launch at him. "Let me explain!" Repeatedly begging you to stop, he crashes into your kitchen counter.

A pillow to his leg.

"Wait! Please!" He's dodging for his life.

Another pillow to his chest.

"You're an angel! Pleas-" Headshot!

"Ough! Not the face..." He pauses to soothe his aching nose.

By now, you're out of energy too. But, there's still a lot of anger in your stomach. You're too guilty and too tired to let it out on the wrong person.

You spent over twenty minutes reprimanding him for hiding Yoongi's fiancée from you.

Finally having a fraction of a minute of peace, your friend sits you down by your dinner table.

He disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to cradle and console your heart by yourself.

You hear a few utensils clashing and see him juggling four things in his hands; your cat mug, his designated frog mug, a bottle of white chocolate liqueur and a carton of what looks like chocolate milk.

Pointing your finger at the tetra pak, you protest, "Excuse you, that's the expensive chocolate milk and it’s for Nao."

He looks at the half-empty carton in his hand and back at you.

"You're telling me Nao drank more than half of this bottle in a day? And you let her?" Taehyung deadpanned.

...

"Yeah." Your eyes wander as you insist poorly.

He ignored you and poured you a glass of the milk.

Sitting across from you, he grew solemn, "_____, I swear I didn't know it was like this." - "But you knew about her?" You asked before he said anything else.

Taehyung couldn't deny it, "Yeah. But I thought she would just be like the others."

Yoongi had others.

All grumpy, you sigh. "The others?"

Momentarily, he froze and exhaled. "Yeah, there have been a few. He was... I don't know. He kept saying he was serious about each of them but nobody ever... stuck around? So, we thought he was lying or something." Taehyung regretted his choice of words.

You want to believe him, but you both know that Yoongi isn’t someone who lies like that. Let alone big lies, Yoongi won't even tell little white lies.

Over the years, you naturally assumed he was dating around, but you didn't know. Nothing was confirmed. You never asked and he never told you anything himself.

"Who all knew?"

"Everyone. But nobody even imagined that they'd be getting hitched." He shook his head in disbelief.

“Obviously. This is Yoongi you’re talking about,” you pause, “But didn’t you notice anything different with them?”

“I’m telling you, _____, we had no idea.” Taehyung cringes after taking a sip of the sweet liqueur. “I think he wanted to tell you first.”

You wish he never had.

"What are you thinking?"

You dip your head in between your palms, “I feel terrible. It’s like I know I want to cry but I’m so emotionally stunted right now, I cannot get it out. It’s like a stuck yawn.”

Taehyung caresses your arm, "Can I do anything to help?"

You shake your head, "I don't think so, Tae."

"Oh! Do you want to watch 'The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas?' Maybe that will help you cry." He tilts his head, eyes filled with hope.

At that, you let out a surprised laugh, "Taehyung, no!"

Basking in the little moment of success (by making you laugh), Taehyung internally pops confetti.

But, the moment was just that. A moment. Your happiness faded away as quickly as it came.

So, he pulled his phone out and placed it in front of you.

Taehyung’s hesitant to ask you this but he does it anyway. “Do you want to see her?”

You don’t know. (You’d rather pretend she doesn’t exist.)

If it weren’t for Nao, you’d have no problem ignoring Yoongi’s girlfriend. Even thinking of the words ‘Yoongi’s girlfriend’ makes you want to end it all.

It’s no secret that you’re still madly in love with your ex-boyfriend.

This situation felt so ridiculous to you, you couldn’t digest it. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening to you.

As a young girl, you never thought it was in the books for you to go through this kind of pain. And, you don’t have a whole lot to lean on. So, Yoongi has always been it for you. He always told you he’d be there for you no matter what.

Even after your breakup, he was by your side.

When you unexpectedly caught the chicken pox from Nao, he took care of you. Even when Taehyung insisted on helping you instead, Yoongi sent him away.

You shared every birthday with him. He’d throw you a small party. Every year, it was a different theme. This year was ‘enchanted garden.’ He always ordered you a custom cake from out of town. It made everything special.

He even helped you open your quaint little bakery. Yoongi was the one who helped you finalize your menu. He tasted everything and even got himself sick because of it.

He stood by you when you got sued by your competition, another old-timey cake shop, for stealing their clients and recipes. He acted as your lawyer free of charge.

Now, you wonder if it was all out of convenience or… an obligation. Had you read it all wrong? Was he simply being polite because you’re the mother of his daughter? Would he stop doing things for you now? Did he ever do those things for you? Or were they simply for your daughter by extension?

Would he be too focused on his wife now?

Even for Nao’s sake, you never once got the urge to know the woman who did the unthinkable.

As a co-parent, you trusted Yoongi. You knew Yoongi would never let just anyone around Nao. If he wants to introduce his daughter to a woman, you knew it was safe. She could be the next Mother Teresa for all you know.

All this blind trust has been earned by him throughout the years you’ve spent with him, you’re not a careless mother.

However, as a woman and Yoongi’s ex-flame, you weren’t eager to know the woman who replaced you. You don’t want to see or meet her. In your eyes, she was able to compel Yoongi to do something he wouldn’t do even after you begged him to. Maybe she didn’t even have to try. She was probably just that perfect for him.

This is apart from the fact that he fell in love with another woman after you while you’re still hung up on him.

You don’t think you can afford to willingly take a hit to your self-confidence like that.

Nao looks up to you. You know you cannot lose yourself when you have so much relying on you.

Taehyung was kind enough to let you get lost in your thoughts.

“No.” You finally answer his question.

You did not want to see what she looked like.

Taehyung nodded once, “Okay. That’s fine.”

Just when Taehyung’s about to put his phone back into his pocket, it rings.

And on the screen pops this gorgeous woman. She looked like she stepped straight out of an issue of Harpar’s Bazaar or even Vogue. You weren’t surprised, you smiled and involuntarily snorted. Taehyung did have a type.

He hurriedly tried to pull his phone off the table, knocking your (thankfully, empty) glass of milk in the process.

“You don’t have to hide her from me, Vincent.” You tease him, using his artist alias. “Is she your new muse?”

Taehyung awkwardly laughed, blatantly ignoring your question.

Suddenly, he changes the topic, “Oh! Do you have to go into work today?”

Your smile drops a little. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

He offered a strained smile, “It’s like I can feel the alcohol in my veins.”

“Heyyy... What’s up with the model babe? Why are you deflecting?” This time you pout.

You hear his phone ring once again. But he immediately declines.

“Taehyung… What’s the matter?” When he refuses to acknowledge you, you grow more concerned.

“You don’t have to stay, you know?” You continue to reassure him.

“It’s not,” he cuts himself off, “That wasn’t my girlfriend.”

Taehyung hopes he doesn’t have to face your inevitable question in line.

“Well, who was that the….” When you trail off mid-response, he knew you had figured out who that woman really was.

The two of you are silent for a moment.

Sullen, you whisper, “That’s his fiancée?”

Taehyung wishes he never came over to your place. He didn’t want to be the one to make you feel this way.

He nods once. Not that you needed that confirmation.

Quickly moving on to your next thought, you question, “Why is she calling you?”

Already on it, Taehyung visibly cringes at the messages on his screen when you push yourself forward to peek into his phone. This time, he doesn’t try to obstruct your vision.

Hyejin (3)

Sorry! I forgot you were at _____’s. It’s nothing important, I just had a question about Nao-chan. Does she like lemon cake? How is _____ doing btw?

Your mouth dropped open.

You don’t even acknowledge the fact that she’s speaking about you so personally; as if you were a friend or even an acquaintance.

You ignore the fact that she’s fucking stunning, owning the most symmetrical, aesthetically pleasing face you’ve ever seen on a grown woman.

You don’t even dwell about how you do not stand a chance against this woman.

The only thing you see is her nickname for your daughter. You squeak, “She calls her Nao-chan!”

That’s YOUR name for YOUR babygirl.

“Angel…” Taehyung begins but has no idea what he could possibly say to comfort you.

Pull yourself together. You mentally discipline yourself. It takes a minute for you to get there.

Instead of dealing with whatever you just felt, you push it away in an instant and beam at your friend.

“Whatever. Let’s get cheesy naan and shrimp skewers!”

Of course, your faux smile didn’t fool Taehyung, but he went with it anyway.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡tears are in your eyes by yo la tengo ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: i hope i'm doing this series justice lol the ideas in my head run too wild for me to actually make note of them. please let me know what you guys think!

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luveline · 8 months

Note

your spencer writing is so beautiful jadey! i was wondering if we could get some hurt comfort where reader really struggles after a case and he comforts her? <3

thank you ♡

Grief for other people can vary in strength. Ever present, occasionally numbing, tonight's case has left you neck deep in it, and the feeling needs to come out. Tears slink down your face in lazy rivers. You keep thinking you'll stop crying. Then you remember her hand, soft with newness and curled in death, and it starts again.

It hurts to cry. You don't attempt to stop; you don't think about it, or the team, or the heat at your side, you just think about the girl's hand. It's not fair. It's too much.

"It's okay," Spencer says. You know it's him without looking, his voice a familiar gentleness that reaches your ears despite the roaring-quiet nothing and your sniffles.

You turn your face away from him to hide.

He puts his hand on your thigh amicably, his tone encouraging as he continues, "If you don't calm down you'll throw up. What can I do?"

You suck in a shaky breath, an attempt to regulate feelings too big for one body, "Sorry, it's– I'm fine. I'll be fine," you wobble. You can't finish the second fine, a cry crushing it down.

Another hand touches you, fingers on your wrist and weaving down. He covers the back of your hand with his palm. It's not like Spencer, but it's not like you to cry like this.

Spencer doesn't tell you to stop crying or try to shush you. He'd told you once that he tries not to stop people when they're talking, because he knows what it feels like to be shut up. I wish people… I wish people would have more patience, I think. Sometimes I can't get things out the way others want me to, and I get that things are time sensitive, but. I don't know. If I have time to listen, I'll listen.

Listen to you cry, listen to your staggering breaths as you catch them. Patient, Spencer pulls your hand to his lap and draws letters into your wrist. You can't make out what he's writing, but you can feel the bumps and curves of Os and Ks. Maybe he's telling you it's okay, maybe he's writing out a recipe. Whatever it is, it calms you down.

"Do you want some water?" he asks as you still. He sounds pitying, sure, but he understands. His thumb rubs down to the middle of your hand.

"Yeah. Please."

He passes you a plastic bottle of water with the seal already broken. You have the wherewithal, then, to see where you are. The conference room is dark, and your teammates have given you the chance to cry alone, though they'd sent Spencer in to keep you company, it seems. You can see Morgan waiting out by the door like your bodyguard, and you're sure you can hear Hotch shouting. Or, not shouting, he doesn't yell much, but his voice is loud and terse. He cannot be argued with.

"I'm sorry you got the short straw."

Spencer puts an arm behind your back. "Actually, I had to fight Emily to be the one who gets to sit with you. And I can't fight, so it was more like begging."

He rubs your back. You forget that he's a man, sometimes, but you can feel the ridges of his arm, smell the woody scent of his deodorant as it stretches around you in a half hug. His awkwardness with women doesn't extend to his friends at any rate, and he hugs you with surety.

"You're one of my favourite people. I'm sorry you didn't know that. Holding your hand when you cry isn't a short straw," he says.

You lean into his shoulder. He murmurs a quiet, "Come here," as you do, his jaw pressed tight to your forehead.

"I'm so sorry," you say. To him and to someone else.

"It's okay. It's not your fault. You can't save everyone." He sounds near choking up with his last sentence. It's a grim and undeniable truth. No matter how hard any of you try, there will be impossible cases with twisting riddles for motivation and terror that fills every corner. There will be young girls who die, because there will always be someone waiting to hurt them.

"I tried–" You bite your cheek until it screams at you to stop.

"I know. There was nothing else we could do."

You turn into him completely, wrapping your arms around his waist in a vice. Spencer doesn't baulk, circling your shoulders, his breath tickling your ear where you squish your face against the collar of his sweater. The fabric bites your skin, a wicked heat returning to line your lashes.

Your back shakes under Spencer's hand.

"I know," he repeats, rubbing your back. "It's okay, Y/N, I promise. He can't hurt anyone else, ever again."

It doesn't make the crime any better. It won't bring back the girl you lost. And it can't erase the agony of knowing you failed her.

Spencer starts to talk. Simple facts, explaining grief. When we cry, it releases oxytocin. You feel better afterwards because of the chemical effects.

When you eventually do calm down, head pounding and chest aching, Spencer helps you clean the tear stains from your cheeks with a pocket pack of tissues, and you know it isn't the oxytocin that made you feel better, just a really caring man.

"Thank you for dealing with me. I know this wasn't even the worst thing we've seen, but I–" You clear your throat, determined not to cry anymore tears until you're back home. "I couldn't stop seeing her hand. I can't remember my hand being that small anymore."

Spencer gives you a smile. It's far from happy, a flat line with the slightest curve at the corners. "Some things are hard to forget. And we shouldn't forget them. But we have to keep going so we can balance it out. Or at least that's what I think."

You hug him quickly. "Thanks, Spence."

His hand twitches against the small of your back.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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wolvesofinnistrad · 12 days

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Now Expanded on AO3 here

The bed is hard and cold, not anything he isn't used to, but uncomfortable all the same. Especially with the way his body aches right now.

He wasn't even supposed to be on the ground, running into burning buildings wasn't really his main job description anymore. It was just...

The woman was screaming for her cat. And Tommy loves cats, he has his own, Missy. She's probably wondering where daddy is right now.

Who is he kidding, she probably didn't even notice he left for work.

No one is probably noticing he's missing. He likes the people at harbor, his coworkers, but they aren't family like the 118, Evan has told him how half the station will be sitting bedside vigil when any of them get injured. It must be nice to have that. After his childhood, shipped from one foster home to another, kicked out at 18, a family like that is something he's always wanted; fuck he acted like an absolute asshole just to try to get the old 118 to like him.

He's just mulling over whether calling Eddie and asking him to pick him up whenever they discharge him is too much when he hears the squeak of sneakers on the hospital floor and glances towards the door.

In stumbles Evan, looking scared and adorable and making Tommy's heart beat so fast the monitor actually beeps a few times in warning.

"Tommy, hey, are you okay?" He says, scrambling towards him, dragging a chair over with a loud scrape that has Tommy wincing at the sound.

For a moment all he can do is stare over at this human ball of sunshine, something in his chest unknotting. Fuck he really didn't think anyone would come, how did he...

"I, I'm okay," he says, trying to put on a brave face for Evan. He's older, more experienced, he should try to be calm and not get emotional.

"You look like shit," Evan says in that earnest way he has, sitting there and taking Tommy's hand in his own. His thumb brushes over Tommy's bruised knuckles, his concerned expression staring straight into Tommy's soul.

"Oh..." he says as he feels something crack open in him. Because Evan is here, he's holding his hand, he's worried for him he... He wants to take care of him, its written all over that adorable face. And well, that's, its not really something Tommy ever has anymore. "I'll be okay," he amends, and his hand squeezes Evan's even if it hurts a little. "How did you even?"

"The hospital called me. Apparently I'm your emergency contact?" Evan asks, and there's confusion there, but also something that looks like that same giddy contentment that Evan gets whenever Tommy does something to make him happy.

Fuck. He forgot he'd done that. That looked crazy and desperate, they'd only been dating a couple months.

"Uh, yeah it was either you or Chimney," he said, and fuck if that didn't sound pathetic. It wasn't like he didn't have friends. He had a lot actually, but none that he trusted implicitly like that. To see him weak and vulnerable. Chimney had saved his life though, and Evan well...

Evan leans in and kisses him. "Well I'm glad you did because I might not have known otherwise. Chim is at work right now so."

They sit for a while, Him recounting how he saved the cat but got blasted out a first floor window by the explosion. There wasn't any serious damage but he hurt like shit and had a lot of bruises and scrapes.

"Would you want to, y'know, come home with me and I can take care of you? Or I can stay at your place," Evan asks and fuck, fuck he is Not going to cry, he is not that kind of guy. But then, before he can answer.

Eddie rounds the corner, followed closely by Chim and Hen. Eddie's in plain clothes but Hen and Chim look like they came directly from the station.

"Tommy, shit, you okay?" Eddie asks, and Hen and Chim are looking at his chart by the bed and this is. Its too much. Its exactly what he wanted but wasn't at all expecting.

"I'm," he starts, looking at Evan for a moment before deciding, "I feel about as bad as I look, yeah." Evan squeezes his hand and his heart starts racing again and the monitor is beeping a little and he feels a tear going down his cheek. Evan wipes the tear away and then they're all talking. About what happened as Evan explains it for him, about a call where Hen saved a dog a few months back, about whatever. And fuck if Tommy doesn't feel safe, feel like he belongs.

Later that night, laying in his own bed, Evan having dragged him onto his broad chest in the same way Tommy usually does to him, he starts to think he could get used to this. He really hopes he can keep Evan, keep all of this for himself. Missy curls at the foot of the bed and purrs and he thinks, yeah, I feel like purring in contentment too.

#bucktommy #kinkley #tevan #evan buck buckley #tommy kinard #tommy kinard pov #mine #my fic

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adventuringblind · 3 months

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So Powerful, So Vulnerable

Landoscar x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Mafia AU, more crack than anything with the way I wrote it.

Summary: Lando has a meeting on neutral ground. Oscar has to make the switch. How'd she get caught in a petty crossfire?

Warnings: Attempted r@pe, gun violence, knives, blood,

Notes: This was far more fun to write than I expected. Another request done!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

She sighs, watching Lando hit his head on the steering wheel of the car. She wants to laugh at his dramatics. You'd think he wouldn't be so whiny since he's in charge of the areas strong Mafia, but she knows the truth.

"I Just - they had one job!" He moans and throws in a fake cry for good measure.

Oscar keeps throwing her looks from where he's spread out on the backseat. He and Lando also make it a point to keep her in the passenger seat and switch who drives. "It's an easy fix. Ten minutes tops, in and out, then back to our original plans." The Aussie shrugs.

"You'll make the switch?"

"Obviously, and if they shoot first, I'll shoot better."

~~~~~

The club rages around her. Not her preferred method of doing business. Dealing with people isn't her strong suit unless it's with a bullet to the head from the top of a building. Knives are fun to when things get messy.

The crowd is safer than the car if this does go south. Not that she's expecting it to, but better safe than sorry.

Oscar is already gone. He drops the money and gets the hostages while Lando goes to meet them on neutral ground. Simple as that.

Her job is to look pretty and watch the door that Lando had disappeared through. Mocktail in hand to make it look like she's part of the normal crowd.

Technically speaking, they'd only been together for the last year. Her and Oscar much longer than that. Though she has a sneaky suspicion Lando kept assigning both of them to the same jobs for a reason. If any jobs came up that required Lando to go out and needed people with him, they were the first he contacted.

If she had to guess, she'd say he orchestrated this relationship. She wouldn't have it any other way. It's not like any of them know how to do anything normally.

She tries not to grimace as a man saunters up to her. His movements unflattering and he smells like cigarettes. Her nose scrunches up in an effort to fight back her gag.

"You here all alone?" Even his voice is grating to her ears! Can this get even worse?

"My boyfriend is busy killing the guy that flirted with me earlier."

"Yeah right, anyone with that kind of attitude must be hard to flirt with." He scoffs. How mad would her partners be if she stabbed this man? No - she can't - they are trying to finish a deal. She'd blow the whole thing if she did that.

Actually - this guy looks familiar... She takes another drink of the non-alcoholic beverage.

"You alright? you look a little flushed."

"Yeah I'm-" Shit, she knows this feeling. More than that, she knows this man.

He's a hitman for the other gang. The one who has Lando's men. The one he's meeting with right now.

Her heart lurches. The fog in her head and heat are too much. Her body is going to give out on her.

She ends up stabbing him. The knife strapped to her thigh finds a home in Mr. Hitman's chest. He cries out in pain but doesn't pull it out. He smiles at her instead.

She tries to bolt, but three other sets of hands pin her. They drag her outside. The ground scraping against her skin in an uncomfortable way.

She sees the hitman fall to the ground; hears the thud as the pull her out the back where he was trying to follow.

Damn, she kind of liked that knife too. She'll have to go back for it later.

They already have Lando outside. Her blurry vision is enough to see him covered in blood, licking his lips. "You trying to take my girl?"

"Shut it, Norris. This is payback for what you did."

They start attempting to remove her clothes. Like she was going to go down without a fight. Her nails dig into the skin of whoever is close by. She pulls as hard as possible, skin from another getting stuck in her nails as she does.

Her body doesn't have the energy for more than that. She misses her knife. This would be easier if she still had it. The stabbing motion isn't difficult, and gravity would help.

"Get your filthy, fucking hands off of her!"

There is another round of fists clashing. "Maybe you shouldn't have killed four of my guys."

"You killed mine first! They made the deal exactly as intended and you still put a bullet through their skulls!"

This was all a setup then. They were planning on them showing up. Though, there is no way they know about Oscar. If they never intended on sending someone to make the switch, then they wouldn't have anyone on the roof.

Hands are everywhere, wrestling with her clothes. They don't get far, their intentions now clear. The shot echoes off the buildings. To close to be from the roof.

The man directly in front of her crumples to the ground. The spray of the blood from the shot sticks to her skin.

"I believe Lando said not to touch her." Oscar stands there holding the smoking gun.

She watches the fight break out around her. It's messy and loud, but her boys come out on top. As per usual with these things. She would've gladly joined in if these stupid drugs would let up.

The boss had scrambled away with his tail between his legs. Serves him right after this stunt. "Did he really not like you that much?" Oscar throws a raised eyebrow at Lando.

"Jealousy, I think." They work in tandem to heave her body upright and support her back to the car. "What happened on the roof?"

"I was waiting for any kind of signal but got nothing. Nobody showed up. So, I came back down and was greeted by six guns pointed at my head."

"They shot first, I presume?"

"But I shot better."

She doesn't need to see the smirk to know it's there.

~~~~~

The hot water of the bath feels exceptional against her skin. They'd scrubbed at blood for far too long. The raw skin finally being soothed is relaxing.

The drugs still haven't worn off. Her motor function is lacking, and her words are slurring together, but it's better than it was.

Lando and Oscar are keeping her upright. Her body resting against theirs. Fingers caress her skin. This is safety.

"Can't believe we've had to cancel our date." Lando plops three rubber ducks inside the bath. Oscar's ducks, mind you.

"Frankly, I think we could consider that a date. We went out, got covered in blood, now we're having a relaxing bath."

"You just don't like going out."

She's going to fall asleep here. Relaxed and at peace with her boys. The possibility of drowning unlikely. "I love you both."

"You're drugged and still got blood on you."

"Sexy."

"I killed someone for you."

"Romantic."

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