#why does it sound full of secrets
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lionheartedmusings · 1 year ago
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this IS NOT CONFIRMED I JUST THINK I NOTICED IT ONCE, I DO NOT WISH TO JOIN THE WAR ON MISINFORMATION ON THE SIDE OF MISINFORMATION
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mxdotpng · 7 months ago
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the soremik in my head is so vastly different from anyone elses idea of them that i fear if i ever speak out on the subject i'll have rocks thrown at me. but once again they are allowed to look but never touch. you have to expect this from me by now.
#.text#its for an actual reason this time outside of general preference though!#to sorey the best time to have told mikleo he loves him was before he met alisha. and then after. well. thats his secret now#i near constantly think about how sorey views his duty as shepherd. it is not just a title -- it is like chains.#he knows he is going to die some day. and its clear that after he becomes shepherd he knows its going to be soon.#i think a lot of the optimism sorey has is true. to an extent -- he believes the things he says to others.#but he knows some of them are lies.#its a kind of 'if i say it enough times and if i try hard enough then i can will it to be true' kind of mentality#which more often than not writes him off as naive and ignorant. and in some cases that is true. but in others he is often right. which is#why that optimism sounds like pure optimism rather than him trying to force things to turn out well#which is in turn connects to how he knows being the shepherd isnt something that comes without cost. it isnt just the weight that hurts him#and you know he knows this because the realization that he must become maotelus' vessel is not one that comes suddenly#to him. it has always been there. he knew this was going to happen. he does not fear it -- not entirely. it isnt the act of#sleeping or dying that scares him. its what comes after. but not for him. for the people around him.#he is never scared for what may happen to him. only of what may happen to others and how it affects them.#honestly the fact that this mentality came naturally to him is so startling... it came out of nowhere. only was this born#from the way that he loves and protects others. nothing else.#which turns right back around to mikleo. the shepherd is chained down by fate. he will not do the same to mikleo#i think he would do it because he believes hes protecting mikleo of the heart break. because more than anything sorey wants him#to live. after hes gone he wants mikleo to live. and i genuinely cannot think of their relationship as otherwise#because i know full well that the moment mikleo and sorey found out that sorey is human and he is going to die. it changed everything#even if it changed nothing it changed everything.#im going to love you for all of my life and youre going to miss me for the rest of yours. type of relationship.#not to mention sorey has this really large savior complex -- he knows he is hurting himself by doing this (by doing everything#really. the first thing that comes to mind is allowing alisha to become his sublord. if he dies because of their pact#but saves at least one life because of it. then so be it)#but is saving mikleo. which obviously isnt the case. thats never been the case.#but that is how it is and how it must always be.#sorry for the sorey essay. it will happen again
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luveline · 2 months ago
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pls spencer and bombshell reader where she like sacrifices herself for him or does something outrageous for him. i love your weiting!! 💝
You don’t have any other choice, Spencer’s on the other roof being held in a chokehold by the UnSub —rational thinking goes out the window. He sees your face and, though he’s starting to look a little blue, gestures wildly for you to not do what you’re thinking. 
You jump. 
You take the landing hard —you ran hard, jumped harder, cringing as the grit of the rooftop tears through your shoulder. You roll into it. In one moment you’re standing, and then you’re knocking the assailant off of your boyfriend just before he falls unconscious. 
You forget everything you’re supposed to remember, flipping the UnSub without care onto his front, yanking his arms back, and cuffing him tightly. He’s a serial child murderer, so it’s kinder than he deserves. 
“Stay down,” you warn, cuffs so tight you can see the perp’s hand changing colour. You’ll have to fix that soon, but you have more important matters at hand. “Spencer?” 
His answer is hoarse, “Yeah.”
You leave the UnSub where he’s laid down and rush to Spencer. You drop to your knees beside him, alarmed that he’s still curled up and gasping. “Hey, hey, what can I do?” 
He grabs your arm and sucks in another breath. 
“Spencer?” 
“Why did you do that?” he asks. 
“What?” 
“What did you do to your arm? Does it hurt?” 
Spencer can barely breathe and he’s asking you if you’re okay. You can see the spots in his eyes. Fuck, he scared you. 
“I’m fine,” you say softly, holding him by the shoulders. “Take a deep breath, can you do that for me?” 
Your shoulder stings like you’d landed on glass and there’s an ache in your bones from the impact, but the source of your racing pulse is the look on his face, as though he might still pass out. You cringe at the sound of approaching footsteps, but it’s Morgan and Hotch making their way across the gravel top to help you. You turn back to Spencer in relief. 
He takes another huge breath. “Good job,” you say quietly, but saccharinely, rubbing his poor chest. “Do you want to sit up?” 
“I can’t.” 
“Okay. Alright. Just take a breath.” 
“Maybe you should take your own advice,” he croaks, putting his hand over your heart. 
“I’m fine.” 
“Just breathe.” He says your name like a secret. “Just breathe.” 
Of course. He’s lying on the ground panting for his life and he’s telling you to calm down. 
Morgan has the UnSub up and moving. Hotch kneels beside you both, face lined with poorly concealed stress. “You okay?” he asks. “Spencer?” 
“She jumped across the roof.” 
“Spencer.” You’re half wounded, half humoured. 
Hotch raises his eyebrows at you both. “Well, that’s ridiculous. Are you alright?” 
“I’m fine. Spencer almost got choked out.” 
Hotch looks as though he might give in and rub his face, but he pats your arm instead. “Okay. Reid, can you stand up?” 
“Tell her she can’t– can’t jump across rooftops,” Spencer says, suddenly full of indignation as he pushes up onto his elbows. He looks like he’s been hung upside down and shook. 
“Well, clearly I can.” 
“L/N shouldn’t be jumping across rooftops for any reason, but you’re both…” Hotch smiles wryly. “I almost said unharmed.” 
Spencer flops down onto his back. When he speaks, he sounds in a strange place, close to tears and laughing alike, “You have to look at her arm.” 
“I think you both need to see a medic, but first, why don’t we all calm down. Let’s regain our senses, and prevent any further unnecessary pain.” 
Spencer gives your leg an uncharacteristic whack. He’s so messed up from the chokehold that it’s more like a stroke, but you feel the tap for what it is. He’s saying Don’t do that to me again. 
“He really was gonna kill you,” you say, sorry. 
“I had it.” 
“Respectfully, baby, you did not.” 
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fastandcarlos · 5 months ago
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Soft Launch : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: follow the journey of lando’s soft launch to reveal your relationship
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liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,302,382 others
landonorris: one shoulder up or two 🤔
67,505 comments
username1: anyone else notice the person who accidentally walked in midway through the stream tonight!?
username2: lando definitely had a girl over…
alex_albon: you must be desperate for content if this is what you’re posting 🙄
username3: why won’t you tell us who was round your apartment lando??
georgerussell63: how about neither of your elbows up you weird man
username4: I keep replaying it but I can’t work out anything about them…
username5: what if lando has a secret girlfriend or something
danielricciardo: you know it’s okay to look at a photo and change your mind about posting it
username6: not everyone rinsing lando in the comments 😂
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liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 1,937,605 others
landonorris: life’s been pretty good recently ☀️
58,391 comments
username7: any particular reason why that might be mr lando norris
carlossainz55: care to elaborate? 🤔
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 zooming over to ferrari now to fill you in
username8: wonder if it’s pretty good because of someone??
georgerussell63: glad to see you with a smile on your face buddy 🫶🏻
username9: is he hinting that this new girl has made his life better??
maxverstappen1: I wanna know all of the gossip too 😂
username10: I’d love to be the reason for lando’s smile fyi
username11: I’m more interested to know who even took these photos
oscarpiastri: I’m fed up of this new version of you, you’re too smiley to have around the garage now
landonorris: @/oscarpiastri sorry not sorry 🙃
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liked by team_quadrant, maxfewtrell and 1,492,606 others
landonorris: apparently if you find a girl who likes quadrant, she’s definitely a keeper ✨
78,301 comments
username12: this sounds like confirmation to me that lando has a girl
team_quadrant: girls who like quadrant = girls with good taste
username13: do you reckon that’s her in the photo ☺️
danielricciardo: ik a better brand of clothes that they could wear 😂
landonorris: @/danielricciardo quadrant > enchante 🤫
username14: really hoping this new girl likes quadrant so she can stick around forever
username15: I like quadrant…does that make me your girlfriend now??
charles_leclerc: I like quadrant but you’re not willing to date me…
username16: @/charles_leclerc also not a girl you clown
oscarpiastri: if I do a photo shoot with you do I get free merch too?
pierregasly: why am I so invested in being part of lando’s comment section lmao
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,594,706 others
landonorris: thank you for bringing so much positivity into my life 🫶🏻🥺
89,394 comments
danielricciardo: you’re welcome honey 😇
landonorris: @/danielricciardo you wish that I was talking to you
username17: look how perfect they look together wow
username18: it’s official, he’s actually managed to get a girlfriend
georgerussell63: congrats on not being the single friend anymore 👏🏻
carlossainz55: little lando norris finally got himself a girlfriend 😂
username19: I want to be happy but I so wish that this was me
username20: the look on his face 😭 I’m so happy he’s happy
charles_leclerc: if you want some tips on how to be a good boyfriend just zoom back to ferrari again
username21: my heart is so full - cheering for these guys all the way!!
username22: constantly telling myself not to be bitter that my dreams now won’t come true
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liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc and 1,395,604 others
landonorris: race weekend with a first timer, luckily for her she picked the best team to support 🧡🏎️
89,483 comments
maxverstappen1: did she get a choice or did you force her to do this??
landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 she said she wanted to support the team with the most handsome driver 💁🏻‍♂️
oscarpiastri: @/landonorris she thinks I’m handsome awh
landonorris: @/oscarpiastri 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻
username23: how have we not got a face reveal when she was literally at the race
username24: I never had lando down for a soft launch kinda guy
danielricciardo: did you even introduce her to all the teams on the grid, you know, let her make her on mind up??
username25: whoever she is she knows how to rock papaya
username26: omg the height difference is the sweetest
logansargeant: I remember when I used to hug you and you’d rest against my chest like that 😂
alex_albon: look at you being all cute and charming
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liked by maxfewtrell, danielricciardo and 1,022,494 others
landonorris: holidaying with my favourites 🌊☀️
89,504 comments
username27: eurgh lando you’re killing us with all these almost photos
maxfewtrell: I’m the number one out of the two of us though right??
landonorris: @/maxfewtrell whatever makes you feel better sweet cheeks
username28: my heart can’t cope with this for much longer
oscarpiastri: so you holidayed with your favourites and yet I’m here at home 🤔
username29: lando replacing oscar with his girlfriend is peak
username30: lando knows what he’s doing and this is so not fair
username31: I bet he’s laughing at all of us when he looks at his comments section
alex_albon: it’s alright for some 😂
username32: lando I’m on my knees pls just tell us more about who this lucky girl is
georgerussell63: I think your fans might turn on you soon if you don’t stop playing them 😂
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liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 1,302,493 others
landonorris: another race weekend with my best human there to cheer me on 💕☺️
99,398 comments
username33: FINALLY HE GAVE US WHAT WE WANT
username34: omg she’s absolutely gorgeous lando
username35: we won at last woooooo
alex_albon: still can’t believe your girlfriend supports mclaren 😭
oscarpiastri: don’t forget who the most handsome mclaren driver is tho 😂
username36: they look so in love together 💞
username37: I want to be jealous but how can I be when they look so cute
lilymhe: we’re double dating asap btw
danielricciardo: they don’t prepare you for when the kids grow up 🤧
landonorris: @/danielricciardo sorry dad 😭
username38: my heart has officially exploded 😂
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liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 1,948,502 others
landonorris: whoops they caught us 🥺
tagged: ynusername
138,849 comments
username39: these two are gonna be such a duo omg
username40: ah and he even tagged her 🤩🤩🤩
danielricciardo: my kids are the cutest things in the world
carlossainz55: smooooth operator 😂😂
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 high praise from you my friend 🫡
username41: thank goodness that the soft launch era is now over
username42: I’m already in love with them so much
username43: I don’t want to be yn anymore, I just want to be her best friend
charles_leclerc: congrats buddy 👏🏻👏🏻
alex_albon: stop making the rest of us feel single even though we’re also in relationships please
ynusername: ily 🥺🥺🥺
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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obsessiveloveistheonlylove · 5 months ago
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Yandere bruce wayne with neglected!daughter reader
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Seen a bunch of neglected reader fics recently but I haven't seen one of a Reader who slowly starts to take advantage of the situation and uses batfam for their money and connections so here's this! This only focuses on Bruce for now but if anyone is interested I'd be willing to do some for the other batfam members + hcs for when/if they snap and kidnap the reader. 
Was suppoused to headcanons but ended up more as long rambles than anything lol mainly set up for later posts detailing the situation
Pt1 it got too long, word count ; 2461
Unedited
___
Bruce is absolutely the most susceptible to this behavior, he feels the most guilt about the situation (as he should for being a neglectful father) and he is not going to lie to himself to try and save face and make himself feel better and if he does it's only for a short while before reality slaps him in the face and he has to see the truth. The truth is that there is no one to blame but himself.
When he first noticed your disappearance it had happened slowly… entirely too slow when he really took the time to think about it. You had been gone for a full year and he hadn't even noticed? Were you even old enough to be on your own like that? Something he felt ashamed that he even had to ask. When Alfred informs him that you're nineteen just this month he's shocked not only that you're an adult and that he didn't even realize your birthday had passed but that he couldn't even remember your face. He searches his memories for your Visage but all that he can recall is murky; he can't even remember the correct shade of your eyes or your hair and it startles him how long has it been since he took the time to properly look at you? 
It takes some time but eventually he remembers your face with sudden clarity, he hadn't seen it in a while and the only image he could conjure up was when he first saw you, a small helpless looking child left on his doorstep by commissioner Gordon.  your eyes held the same dull glassy look that his did the night his parents died, you had lost your mom in a similar vein he felt he could relate to at the time. he remembered seeing you and feeling sad for you but not in the way a father does for his child the way he felt was the same way he felt as Batman seeing victims in Gotham streets you didn't deserve this life but you weren't anyone close to him. 
His chest aches and he remembers the way you'd clung to him your first week in the manor and then the way you wilted when he shut that down, it wasn't like he was trying to hurt you but he couldn't have you following him around everywhere especially not when gothams crime was getting out of hand even with the other members picking up his slack. So he reprimanded you, way too harshly now that he looks back on it he knows he only meant to keep you from discovering his secret but he could have worded it better instead he made it sound like you were a burden. Maybe you were to him at the time he thinks and is disgusted with himself for even letting the thought cross his head. 
He reads your diary page after page until he reads through the whole thing. The first few pages are hopeful but solemn detailing how much you missed your mother but you're glad that you have a whole new family and you hope that they will like you, it's heartbreaking to read that kind of childish hope turn into sadness and then hate. You detailed how no one would make time for you that you'd tried everything to get their attention but you'd get blown off by each one it turns into rants about you asking what was wrong with you and why no one ever spent any time with you the writing was scribbled on so he knows you did it in a hurry just to vent out your frustration. The part that hurt most were the pages about him, you had nothing good to say about him in fact in one of the pages you had written that you didn't have much to say about him at all that you hardly knew him and barely saw him once a month and couldn't even call him your father. 
Surely that couldn't be true right? He's not the best father figure by far but he always tried to make time for dick, Tim, Jason, Steph, Damian and Cass ... .surely he did for you. 
He tries to find memories of him being a good father or at least trying to be any kind of father figure to you at all but he can't he can only see the times he rejected your pleas to spend time with you for things he deemed more important than you he sees it clearly each time he rejected you how you got sadder and sadder how you seemed to wilt at each and every rejection until you stopped asking. 
he tries to tell himself that he did it for your protection that he just didn't want to get you involved in the crime fighting scene and since gothams streets were never without crime he spent an exorbitant amount of his time as Batman down in the batcave or out fighting crime with his other children and that's why he couldn't spend time with you. And that's why he seemingly had so many memories with them in the recent years; hell even in the recent weeks he has more memories with dick and the others than he ever had made with you. he tries to use it as an excuse to mask the truth; that you didn't matter in the grand scheme of his life, at least not then but he's going to do everything to make this right.
You'll be surprised to suddenly get a ton of texts from an unknown number even more so when you find out it's from bruce. Suddenly he's asking you how you've been, how was the move, are you in college right now, what major did you take? Obviously you're taken aback when the man who acted like you didn't exist suddenly wants to know everything about you. You would think he'd needed something but you know better than that what could he possibly need with you now? You don't have any money and he wouldn't need that anyways. Maybe he's dying and needs a kidney or something…whatever you don't care that man can rot. 
You leave his messages on read of course, because you don't owe him a response and well maybe to be a bit petty and give him a taste of his own medicine. You don't know how bitter the taste is in Bruce's mouth, he knows you've seen them so why won't you respond? Bruce usually isn't a multi texter but he'll send more and more trying to get any kind of response out of you, he's constantly checking his phone hoping to see three little dots appear and he's noticeably slightly more angsty when out patrolling with the others. 
The texts were annoying but you could mute his notifications and after the first few weeks you basically forgot about the texts going about your normal life until he started calling. It seemed like he was always calling Day in day out, you blocked his number because of how annoying it was but he always just gets a new one leaving the same text “ hey your name its dad” and then the calling would resume. 
One day you pick up and Bruce sounds so relieved when he says your name into the receiver you figure he might really need that kidney if he sounds this excited to see you.
When you answer back he knows you aren't excited in fact you sound completely disinterested in him which takes him by surprise, isn't this what you wanted? What you cried for in your diary begging God that your father would notice you. You're older now so maybe you just aren't looking for that kind of attention anymore, the thought haunts him the idea that he could never truly make it up to you still he pushes through his voice sounding nervous as he starts to tentatively ask about your day. You cut him off with a scoff after some terse conversation telling him to just get to the point already and stop wasting your time. 
The silence is deafening and you almost hang up before he croaks out a response “sorry name, I just wanted to know what you were up to I know we uh.. haven't talked in awhile I just wanted to hear from you and know that everything was alright”  could this really be your father? He sounds so pathetic to you at that very moment, nothing like the confident man you saw on television often nor the man you saw taking care of everyone but you. 
And no nothing was alright you were working a job you hated in some shitty little apartment in Gotham that you had to fear if it would get broken into or not because the damn landlord wouldn't change the faulty locks a rage takes you and you just let it all fall out cursing him for your shitty life and the shitty apartment and for being a shitty father letting all that rage out until you're left heaving.  its silent after your outburst you think he might have hung up but after a moment he offers to pay for a new place and offers to pay your current rent until you can break the lease and that he will take care of you and not to worry about anything financial telling you to quit your job and to send him your bank so he can get things sorted out.  
At first you wanted to vehemently deny this, wanting to prove to yourself that you didn't need him or his help but something In the back of your head tells you to accept it, that if he expects anything back for it then that's his fault for assuming. So you tell him and soon there's a large sum of money in your account more than you have ever had in there. For once you can actually afford to treat yourself instead of eating shitty microwaved ramen, and so you dine out in a nice reasonably expensive restaurant with your friends and you enjoy yourself. 
A week passes in silence and then he's sending you pictures of luxury apartments telling you to pick out any one you want and that he'll get everything settled and you almost can't believe this. Would he actually pay for something so outrageously expensive? You almost doubt it but once your lease is up Bruce is at your door helping you move out any furniture you wanted to keep which was almost nothing seeing as everything was already worn out anyways. 
You didn't say much to him and he seemed to realize you were in no talking mood so he allowed you to be quiet and told you about himself instead talking about the boys and what he'd been working on recently, it feels like what he should've been for you years ago an interaction you'd have killed for when you were fourteen and it just pisses you off so you turn on the radio instead to drown out his words. You don't care how he's doing, you don't want to hear about dick or damian, you're only accepting his help because you're tired of living in that shitty apartment. The ride is otherwise silent except for the annoyingly upbeat pop music which would probably make Damian or Jason have an aneurysm if they had to listen to it. 
The goodbye is  awkward. You can tell Bruce wants to come inside and talk more but you thank him for helping you move in the furniture and shut the door. 
He buys you new furniture without you asking and sends it in by the second week you're in the apartment. You don't realize that he stalks your posts and that he saw one of you complaining about the lack of good furniture.
Life has never been better for you, you live in luxury and can go on shopping sprees literally whenever you want and Bruce sends you a random stream of cash whenever you start to get low and you're definitely not going to look a gift horse in the mouth not when you enjoy every luxury you are afforded. 
Life is good until a certain black haired prick starts inserting himself into your life and this time it isn't bruce, nope it just had to be your annoyingly bubbly, touchy, and all too friendly ‘stepbrother’ dick grayson.
___
So yeah all in all Bruce has the capability to recognize your strained relationship is all his fault and that he never should have ignored you and how selfish he was to put his duties as Batman above his duties as a father to you. He realized he didn't even try to balance the two. 
And Despite himself he ended up hurting you and neglecting you so he feels he owes it to you to make things right even if 'making things right' entails him buying you a luxury apartment or purchasing the latest phone or new car. The best part is that Bruce will not demand time from you (yet) because of his guilt.  He simply suggests that maybe you should come out with him saying that he planned a whole day for the two of you but the ball is in your court since whether or not you ever accept his invites he will continue to be your cash cow to absolve himself of his guilt. 
It's fun because now you get to watch him wilt everytime you reject his attempts at reconnecting, you get to have your petty revenge watching as a part of him dies inside each and every time you ignore the conversations he tries to start when pulling money out of the bank,  you get to watch how he seems to lose all of his luster when you leave once the cash is in your hands without so much as a thanks. Bruce isn't stupid he knows this dynamic is unhealthy and recognizes it for what it is but this is the only way he can get you to talk to him or to even look in his direction. He has his limits though eventually you will talk to him whether you want to or not 
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innerfare · 15 days ago
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You Just Do It Better 
Summary: There are some things that are better left to you
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid
Genre: Fluff
CW: None // SFW
——— 
Luffy:  
When his hat is in a state of disrepair, as it often is, he now hands it over to you to be fixed. You did it once when he was sound asleep after a fight, and when he woke up, he discovered his most prized possession looked better than it ever had. People are so rarely allowed to touch his hat, but he begs you- puppy dog eyes and all- to fix his hat for him every time it gets damaged. You just do it better. 
Zoro: 
Why does your sake always taste better? And your beer? And, though he’s loathe to admit it, he’d rather swipe that fruity cocktail you’re drinking than have his own whiskey because whenever you order a drink, it just tastes better. Oh, and when you make it? Forget about drinking it yourself. If you make a drink yourself, be it ice water or hot tea or something with liquor, Zoro will at the very least be stealing a few sips, even if he’s made his own. You just do it better. 
Sanji: 
Who knew you had such a talent for frosting cupcakes? He takes such pride in cooking for you, never imagined for a moment he would allow you to pick up even a single kitchen utensil. But he had his hands full one day and you took over the cupcakes he’d made upon Luffy’s request, and you did such a beautiful job he didn’t even let the crew eat them. Now, it’s your job to frost any sweets he makes. You just do it better. 
Ace: 
It’s everything you touch, really. Whether you’re picking out a necklace or seasoning a dish, you just do it better. But most especially, you talk. Whether you’re talking about nothing or speaking on something important, you have a way with words that he simply doesn’t. He always puts his thoughts and feelings through a you filter because however you phrase things is going to be the best way. You just do it better. 
Sabo: 
You edit his manuscript. He has no shortage of people who could do it for him, people who have real experience doing such things. He could do it himself, too, educated as he is (though he hides it well). But you’re so much better. You know exactly how to read his words and improve on them without changing the underlying point he is trying to make. He even has you read his private journals just for your opinion. You just do it better. 
Law: 
You put the right words in his mouth for him. Law often stumbles over his words and isn’t the best at communicating his emotions. You have a special talent for reading his emotions and explaining them, so much so that when he has a conflict, he comes to you and you help him piece together the right thing to say so he doesn’t end up snapping and saying something rude (still probably ends up snapping, but it’s not as bad with your help). You just do it better. 
Kid: 
Applying the soothing gel intended to calm the residual pain in the stub of his arm used to be a private ordeal, the fact that his arm hurt perhaps his most closely guarded secret. But you walked in on him one night and found him in so much pain that you took over despite his protests, and he found the gel worked even better when you massaged it into his arm. Now, he doesn’t even bother trying to do it himself. You just do it better. 
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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irisintheafterglow · 4 months ago
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a kaiju attack spoils date night with bf!hoshina. he is so pissed.
cw: canon-typical violence, swearing, mild angst/fluff, happy surprise ending
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"is it just me, or does the vice-captain seem angrier than usual?"
"maybe he's just fired up. there's a lot of yoju for him to take care of," iharu observes, scanning the emptied streets from the rooftop of an evacuated office building.
"you idiots really don't pay attention at all, do you?" shinomiya mumbles under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. the rest of the officers with her stare at her blankly. "it's thursday, geniuses."
"is there something special about kaiju appearances and days of the week?"
"not that i've heard of," kafka states, scratching his head with a finger. "did new research come out?"
"maybe it's because of the full moon," haruichi says and the other men look up at its soft shining light, nodding in understanding.
"that makes a lot of sense."
"but why would that make the vice-captain angry?"
"maybe he's a werewolf," iharu whispers with sincere worry. "maybe kafka's not the only shapeshifter in our division."
"it's date night, you meatheads! the vice-captain's supposed to be off-base and relaxing," shinomiya explains impatiently like it was written on the floors in fluorescent paint. "he's probably angry that the attack came right when he usually picks up..."
"picks up who?" the officers stiffen and quickly fall into perfect lines. you smile at their professionalism and try not to laugh at how quickly they changed their gossiping demeanors. "you know, officers, you should be careful about what you say in regards to the vice-captain."
"our deepest apologies, platoon leader," kaguragi monotoned, ever the perfect soldier.
"at ease," you command them. "you have nothing to apologize for. i'm simply warning you of what might have happened had it not been me passing by."
"understood, platoon leader," izumo confirms. "if we may," he continues slowly and you can see the rest of the officers eyeing him warily. "were we...correct in our assumption as to the reason for the vice-captain's mood?"
"the werewolf assumption or the assumption that only shinomiya was correct about?" everyone but shinomiya reddens, looking down sheepishly at the toes of their suits. the axe-wielder straightens her shoulders with a proud glint in her eyes. "to answer your question, it would be the latter," you answer with a poorly-hidden smirk. "he'd barely knocked on my door when the alarm sounded."
"oh, i bet the vice-cap was seething."
"he definitely was," you confirm, recalling the colorful curses he uttered as you both begrudgingly shed your nicer clothes for your combat suits. i was supposed to take off your clothes under different circumstances, he'd lamented. don't go thinking our night is canceled because of this. i'll finish them off quickly for you.
your relationship with hoshina was no secret, considering that he talked about you whenever he was given the chance. every kdf member on base knew you preferred to keep your romantic life as private as possible to avoid questions of power dynamics from higher-ranking officials. hoshina, however, either didn't listen or didn't seem to care. he happily declared thursday nights to be date nights, threatening intense punishment for the officers below him if they caused trouble while he was gone. a static-filled message from the scouting teams sounds in your earpiece and you dismiss the officers, moving to join the vice-captain at the front line.
judging by the slowly increasing trail of dead monsters covering the asphalt, you find hoshina easily as he cuts a clean slice through a fast-moving yoju. you change the frequency on your earpiece so that you're directly connected to his.
"someone's been busy," you remark, pulling the batons from your back and electrifying them with the switch by your thumb. they hum in your hands, electric blue lightning crackling in sync with the released power of your suit. "save some for me, would you?"
"any other day, i would," he replies and you hear him smile despite his annoyance. "but it took me three months to get those reservations, so i wanna finish this up quickly." another yoju falls, your boyfriend a phantom blur in the darkness.
"are you calling me slow?" your hand plants itself on your hip as you continue to watch him cut down enemies, barely moving from your place between the dead kaiju. "i can't believe my boyfriend thinks i'm slow. here i thought you were my biggest supporter."
"that's not what i said," he huffs, the slightest waver in his exhale the only evidence of exertion. "i'm just faster." he pauses for half a second to catch his breath, and you snag your chance to overtake him.
"hmm, i think i'll take over for a second, then." launching yourself from the ground, your feet run perpendicular against the wall of a crumbling building as you close the distance. you can feel hoshina's attention on you while you dodge the yoju's swinging limbs and sink your batons into the skin covering its core, electricity surging through its body as it falls with a loud thud. "how's that, mister i'm just faster?"
"cute," he admits, offering you a hand as you hop down from the monster's head. you're shoulder to shoulder facing opposite directions and catch the challenge in his eyes as you look at him over your shoulder. "but i know you can go harder."
"go your fastest then, soshiro," you dare. his throat bobs as he swallows thickly, a subtle sign that you'd thrown him off. "i'll do my best to keep up."
---
"so, this is not how i wanted date night to end up," he says through a mouth full of noodles, slurping them loudly from the bowl on your living room coffee table. "and i'm sorry we couldn't go to that fancy place."
"to be fair, the website didn't exactly update its hours immediately," you remind him. "how were we supposed to know the place got demolished in the attack?"
"true, but i made you get all dressed up for nothing," he grumbles, accidentally dropping a vegetable and splashing broth onto his face. "ow." you snort against your spoon, setting it down in your bowl and swiping over the corner of soshiro's mouth with a napkin. "this was my favorite shirt, too. worst date night ever."
"good thing there's this place called the cleaners, babe." he continues to frown despite your unending patience, letting you clean him up while he indulges in staring at you in your nice clothes. you could make anything look pretty, he thinks, staring unashamedly at you wrapped up in a blanket and covering your going-out clothes. "hey," you murmur, gently grabbing his chin and turning him to face you. "i don't mind."
"you don't mind what?"
"this kind of date night."
"but we could do this anytime," he mumbles, avoiding your eyes. you shake your head, pushing away your food and climbing into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips.
"no, we can't. we don't know how many times we get this in our line of work," you point out with an ache in your chest and he finally blinks up to look at you. "so i'm grateful for any time i get to spend with you, soshiro." his throat bobs again, but he manages to give you a small smile.
"you're too good for me, you know that?"
"if you say so," you shrug, leaning down until your lips barely brush his.
"but, you know," he murmurs and you pull back, staring into his starry eyes. "there's not a lot of nights," he inhales, reaching behind him to grab something from under the couch's throw pillow, "where i get to pull this move."
"what're you--ohmygod." he smirks at you as you blink down at the small box sitting in his hand, covered in crushed velvet and embroidered with gold. "that's-you didn't..."
"i did," he whispers, memorizing every inch of your shocked expression. "so," he pushes open the top half of the box with his thumb to reveal something that sparkles even in the dim lights of your apartment, "please--"
"yes!" you scream before he can finish his sentence, your excitement echoing off the walls as you both break out into wide grins. "holy shit, yes!"
"baby, i didn't even ask the whole question," he chuckles, giving in and slipping the ring on your finger. "what if that wasn't the question i was gonna ask?"
"i'd skewer your head with my batons," you smile sweetly and he hums, admiring the jeweled band in the light. "that was the question you were gonna ask, right?"
"of course, sweetheart," he assures you, finally leaning up to press his lips against yours. "you're the only one i'll ever let keep up with me."
"you gonna marry me, hoshina soshiro?"
"i'm gonna marry you so hard, the entire base will know." you fondly remember your conversation with the officers earlier in the night.
"darling, i think they already know."
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sanjisblackasswife · 10 months ago
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Black Fem! Cam Girl Reader in Mind
CW: Nanami has a voice kink, He’s a pervert, Uhhh, mutual masturbation, uhhhhh yeah pure slutty smut
Thinking about Nanami’s little dirty secret of him watching a specific cam girl almost every other night when he gets off work.
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He don’t even remember when he started watching her, he watches porn like any other man yes, but as far as joining sex calls or live streams or even only fans just wasn’t in his interest.
However he misclicked a twitter link once and since then he’s been a regular watching her.
She’s has a relatively smaller audience since she’s new , no more than 40-50 people and doesn’t get many comments, but quite a bit of donations from anonymous perverts that ask her to do things like play with herself with a specific sex toy she has lined up.
It was a marvel to behold to Nanami, her beautiful figure plastered on the screen when he clicks her live, her pretty full legs spread so wide they get out of the camera. He swears he heard her mention she has been in gymnastics.
Her skin complexion was also what captivated him, she looked fake almost. Not in a derogatory sense, but it was astonishing how someone as beautiful as her has less than 100 veiws despite being so new.
Every night he comes home, mentally drained, throwing his clothes from one area of the room to the next, he’ll worry about it in the morning. As for now, it’s almost 9pm which means his favorite girl is about to start the show.
It started off as something he swore to watch once, get off, and never go back to the site again.
That was until he became addicted to the way she cums.
Something about it.
The way her left thigh twitch and jiggles signalling she’s close, her fatty lower lip being chewed on while her voice gets higher in pitch, the way how her eyes squint, but fail to keep focus as they roll back.
She sounds so fucking sexy when she cums.
She is so whiney and needy she begins to overstimulate herself which really drives Nanami over the edge.
“So greedy…” Nanami thinks as his strong fist grips the base of his dick, “Fuck keep going.
She plays with her breast a lot too when she cums on her little fingers, rubbing her clit in circles, bucking her hips at the camera.
It never failed to make the tired blonde man cum in seconds.
It’s been almost a month of this and he tries not to think about it too much. Watching her for a moment, getting off then immediately shutting off the laptop to clean up and go to bed.
but tonight he wanted to go a little further.
He never comments, he never donates, but tonight there was something in the air, maybe it was the new lingerie she wore to show off, maybe it was the need of seeing more of her. Though it’s been a month, nanami began to stay after cumming, watching her reply and give thanks to donations. He once stayed an entire live and honestly it was most he ever came in his entire life.
She was just so cute. Her voice was so delicate and sweet despite the slutty acts she was doing.
“Fuck it.” He though, clicking and typing away.
“Mr. John Doe has donated $150.”
“Oh!” Her voice almost purred in his heard making him groan as he laid on the headboard of his bed. “Thank you Mr. Doe. That’s so kind of you!…um…as a thank you do you have any requests for me tonight?”
Nanami’s breath hitched a little, her big doe eyes looking at the screen of her chat, she insisted she’d do almost anything and for a moment Nanami was going to just tell her to do whatever she liked but…
her voice. He needed to hear it more.
“Mr. John Doe has Donated $250: Moan my name while you play with yourself, it’s Kento.”
Her eyes widened at the message for a second leaving Nanami to sigh in embarrassment, why would he do that of course she’s not—
“Kento…that’s a really cute name.” She giggled, taking off the top of her pink and black set revealing her breast to massage, “Mkay! Thank you again, Kento..”
It was like her voice had a spell on him, immediately he lowered the waist band of his grey sweats and pulled out his dick and lube from his nightstand.
She did as told, teasing herself with her fingers on her clit, Nanami watched carefully stroking the shaft of his dick at the same pace as her,
“Kentooooo..” She whined throwing her head back., “‘Wish you were here to do this for me…’need you so badly..”
“Fuck..” Nanami growled, he wish he was there, one of his fingers are twice the size of 2 of hers, he knew he could have her cum way faster, maybe even squirt all around his wrist and hand, but alas.
He’s stuck w his own sticky seed flowing down his knuckles and palm. He overstimulated himself to the point he felt a tear fall down the corner of his eye.
“Ken! Kento!” Her voice pitched, she’s close, “Kento yes!”
The chants of his name while she falls flat on her back leaving nothing but her drooling wet cunt on screen left Nanami speechless, his cheeks were pink and hot, his hair no longer properly parter but flowing over his eyes he couldn’t take it. He wish he knew her real name and not username to moan with her.
“Hah…” She breathed moving back towards the camera, she started sucking on her own wet sticky fingers, and that made Nanami’s cock twitch , she’s such a dirty girl. “Hope it was to your liking, Kento. Thank you for the donation!”
If only he could give her more than a few dollars and stupid requests.
Maybe.
Part 2 Here
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bbydoll18xx · 6 months ago
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I'll Be Your Temporary Fix
Paige Bueckers x Media Team Reader
Based on this request: 
'Could you do a Paige x media team reader. Where Paige and reader are fake dating because Azzi is uncomfortable with the fans shipping her and Paige. Reader does it cus she owes Paige a favor (you can make something up).'
Word Count: 2.3k
I absolutely loved this request! There will be a second part posted in a few days.
Thanks for reading!
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You look up from your camera as the sounds of an argument cut through the bouncing of basketballs and squeaking of sneakers against the floor of the gym. 
Azzi and Paige are at it again.
This was not the first time you had seen them sniping at each other this past week, and sure it was concerning. They were best friends. 
What could possibly be the issue?
Being the head of the media team for the women’s basketball team at UConn meant you had formed some very close friendships with the girls. Today, you were attempting to finish filming shots of this week's practices to post on Instagram. The new season was soon beginning, and it was crucial that the rest of the world was able to see what you saw in these girls. However, that was proving to be a challenge with the incessant bickering coming from Paige and Azzi.
“C’monnn, just please go ask her,” Azzi whines loudly, looking over in your direction. You frown, confused as to why their arguing would have anything to do with you. 
“I can’t just ask her to do that. She’s too nice, and you know it’ll make her feel all weirded out!” Paige retorts, equally as loud.
They really were not subtle.
As practice ends, you put away your equipment, feeling Paige’s eyes on you. Looking up, you see Azzi retreating back in the direction of the locker room, with Paige slowly sauntering towards you looking nervous. 
That was odd. Paige never really looks nervous. She was smug as hell, pretty much always. It was something you envied and admired.
“Good job today, P,” you say as she comes to stand in front of you, eliciting a broad grin that caused your belly to do several happy flips.
“Thanks, gotta have someone to show off for,” she responds with a wink and laugh. She continues after a beat, “Listen, I have a weird request and feel free to say no, but I kinda promised Azzi I would ask.”
You nod for her to continue, wondering what the blonde could possibly need from you.
“The fans are kinda obsessed with the idea that me and Azzi are in a relationship, and Azzi is super uncomfortable with it. She has a bit of a crush on one of the guys on the men’s team, and even he thinks we’re together.”
Your eyebrows furrow at the information, trying to process what she was saying. 
“Okay…so how do I fit into all this?” you ask puzzledly.
Paige bites her bottom lip apprehensively, “well we thought maybe if the fans saw me with someone else, they’d forget about ‘Pazzi’.”
You look at her blankly. “Wait, me?” you ask. “You want to pretend to date me?”
“Only if you want to. We just thought it’d be a good idea. The fans love you, you’re actually gay, and you’re not exactly bad looking,” Paige mutters the last bit, causing you to turn a bright shade of pink. 
This was certainly not a good idea. It was a terrible one.
You had harbored secret feelings for Paige since showing up day one with your camera and a head full of ideas. 
Pretending to date Paige Bueckers was a surefire way to fall head over heels, and that was something you had spent a generous amount of time trying to avoid. 
You sigh, going over the pros and cons in your head.
“Pleaseee,” Paige pouts, drawing out the syllables dramatically. “Ya know, you kinda owe me. I did introduce you to Steph Curry that one time…”
Your eyes narrow at that. She really decided to pull that card. “Fine,” you clip, in a way that was more hesitant than you actually felt. 
Paige throws herself against you in a joyous hug, whooping loudly in your ear. You giggle at her antics.
“Thank you so, so much. I promise Imma be the best fake girlfriend you’ve ever had! Why don’t you come over tonight, and we can start planning,” she smirks excitedly.
You agree and go your separate ways, your stomach already rolling at the idea of doing anything romantic with the tall blonde. 
Later, you walk towards the door to Paige’s apartment feeling thoroughly fucked. You had gone over every scenario in your head just about a million times since your conversation earlier. Your pessimistic disposition could not see this ending well. 
The noise levels were alarming, and as you peered your head around the corner of the door, you saw multiple girls from the team lounging on Paige’s couch. They whoop as you make your presence known, feeling grateful for a buffer. Sure, you loved being alone with Paige, but the idea of having to feign intimacy was so foreign. You weren't sure if you were capable of that.
“She’s here, P,” Azzi shouts towards Paige’s bedroom door, causing her to quickly emerge with a shy smile. 
“I hope you don't mind, but I figured we could go live with the girls tonight and get these rumors rolling,” Paige explains to you. 
“Course not,” you respond breezily, wanting to keep up an air of indifference. You secretly hoped everyone else thought you were chill and not at all dying at the thought of people thinking you and Paige were together.
Azzi gets up from her spot to stand next to you. “Thank you so much for doing this. It’s not going to bother you, is it? People talking about you?” She has the eyes of a puppy dog, and you immediately feel better agreeing to the scheme.
“Nah, nothing really bothers me,” you shrug noncommittally. ‘Except having to fake intimacy with the person I want most,’ you add in your head bitterly.
Considering it was Ice who was live the last time shit had gone down with Paige and Azzi, everyone thought it would be hilarious for her to do it once more. It was so fitting.
KK, Ice, and Azzi were sitting on the couch in the living room of the apartment, leaving you and Paige the small armchair in the corner. It felt like something out of a cheesy movie. The girls giggle as you realize that you both cannot comfortably sit side by side in the chair, your cheeks aflame once more as you put the pieces together in your head. Paige takes a seat first, basically manspreading, as she does, before patting her lap tantalizingly. 
Shit. 
Before you can protest, Paige is grabbing your hand and pulling you to sit down on your lap. Her muscular arms circle your waist in a way that has your pulse racing instantaneously. Despite her skinny build, she is so fucking comfortable, and she pulls you towards her chest, encouraging you to melt into her body. This had to look natural to work.
Satisfied with your positions, Paige gives Ice the green light to start the live with a nod. 
“Hey y’all, what’s everyone up to?” Ice begins, giving you and Paige a sly nod. You struggle to hold back a snort at the absurdity of the situation you’d gotten yourself into. 
KK, Azzi, and Ice take turns answering questions, showing off the tiktok dances they’ve been practicing and being straight-up obnoxious. After 10 minutes of sitting on Paige’s lap, the lack of action was making you feel antsy. The unknown of what was coming was eating at your anxieties.
Suddenly, KK reads out ‘We wanna see Paige,’ causing her to dramatically flip the phone toward where the two of you were nestled together. Paige gives a wave, smiling smugly, as if she could see the faces of the fans already.
Feeling shy all of a sudden, you bury your face in Paige’s neck, trying to disappear from the camera and the hooting girls holding it. You try to ignore the way Paige lets out a tiny moan as your lips accidentally meet the pale, smooth skin. You think you’d spend the rest of your life wanting to pull that noise out of her lips again. 
Ice grabs her phone back out of KK’s grasp and continues asking questions, as if nothing had happened. You let out a breath, and come up for air, looking around at the girls. 
Azzi looks pleased, watching the comments carefully and gauging the reaction of Paige’s loyal, and extremely passionate, fans. Out of reach from the camera, she sends an enthusiastic thumbs up, signaling that the first phase of the plan was a success. You just didn’t realize how successful it would end up being. 
Phase two was deemed ‘Project Bow Bow Bow’ by KK. You had protested, saying, “what the hell does that even mean?” KK had just shrugged, so you went along with it. 
It was decided that you and Paige had to be seen in public together, showing considerable amounts of PDA. “Ya gotta really sell it,” the girls had said with a laugh. Again, you just went along with it, but the idea of people seeing you with someone so loved by the public terrified you. What if people thought you weren’t good enough for Paige? 
Foregoing your usual bar, Paige decides a house party would be a more intimate place to delude the UConn students into your fake relationship. Trusting Paige to take the reins, you accompanied her into a colossal, and if you were being honest, ostentatious, house just outside of the university’s campus. Your eyes widened at the stately staircase, its grandeur diminished by the drunk students already perched upon it. The noise of the house pounded through your ears, almost distracting you from the way Paige had intertwined your fingers together, rubbing soothing circles onto the top of your small hand. It was blissful.
The tall blonde leads you past hoards of students through the house. You’re too busy avoiding the looks you’re earning to question how Paige knows her way around so well.
A tall and muscular guy bumps into you, causing you to stumble in the heeled boots you wore. Paige glares at the kid, eyebrows furrowing harshly, and removes her hand from yours to wrap protectively around your waist. She pulls you in, making sure you are fine before continuing to lead you into the kitchen. 
“Want a drink?” Paige asks, leaning into you, struggling to converse over the pounding noise of the bass.
You nod, grateful to have something to dull your overwhelmed senses. Paige pours you a drink, making you wince at the amount of vodka that ends up in your cup. She holds the cup to your lips, encouraging you to tentatively sip the beverage. You welcome the burn that slides down your throat, settling into a warm pool in your belly that makes you feel more relaxed in seconds. 
As the kitchen fills up with numerous people, all looking for refills, you and Paige take solace in a sitting area in a more closed off area of the house. You are pulled onto her lap once more, a wink reassuring you that everything was going to plan.
You talk over the noise of the party, faces close together. One of Paige’s hands settles on your inner thigh, almost possessively. She rubs slow, teasing circles onto the sensitive flesh, the pressure deepening in a way that had you holding back moans of pleasure.
“I-I gotta run to the backroom. Be back in a sec,” you stutter, feeling suddenly appreciative that the darkness of the party hides your blush. Before Paige can even respond, you shoot off her lap, and run to the bathroom. 
It takes a few tries to actually find the bathroom, accidentally walking on several horny couples getting it on in random rooms. As you lock the bathroom door, you sigh and slide onto the floor, feeling overloaded with the fake intimacy. It had been awhile since you had dated anyone, and stress of it all was starting to get to you. 
You had to get it together. Taking a few deep breaths and giving yourself a pep talk, you walk back out into the chaos of the party. As you find your way back to where you and Paige had been sitting, you see some girl talking to her. Jealousy settles into you, before remembering you had a role to play; you were actually allowed to stake your claim on Paige.
Walking up to the two girls, you plaster a sultry smile to your face and take a seat back on Paige’s lap as if it belonged to you. Paige’s eyes widened in surprise; this week she had initiated nearly every touch between you two. Little did you know, she was secretly very pleased at this new behavior, arms immediately wrapping around you once more. 
Without saying anything, the girl rolls her eyes and walks away You try desperately to keep up the act of nonchalance; the smirk that crawls over your face ruins it real fast. 
No one bothers you the rest of the night, but you continue your act. You play with her fingers and she traces patterns onto your thigh. And despite the commotion transpiring around the two of you, the entire world disappears.
Paige drops you back off at your apartment that night with bright blue eyes, hazy under the spell of intoxication, but she was drunk off of more than just the alcohol. She places a small kiss on your cheek, lips grazing the corner of your mouth before bidding you a good night.
You spend the whole night dreaming about it, over and over again.
*You can now read Part 2 and Part 3
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lemonhemlock · 5 months ago
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the reason why i don't think blood & cheese works without maelor is because it undermines the gravity of helaena's choice
in the books, as we all know, she has to choose which son to sacrifice. blood & cheese are going to kill one either way, so, whatever happens, if you want to get cynical about it, aegon will still be left with a male heir of his body. no, the horribleness of the choice lies not really in dynastic matters, but in basic humanity: which of your children are you willing to condemn to death? and helaena truly does try to make the best out of a bad situation, she picks not because she loves jaehaerys more, but because maelor is so tiny that she hopes he won't understand what's going to happen to him.
and she absolutely has to choose, because b&c threaten to rape her daughter if she doesn't. it's psychological torture. b&c just want to fuck her up in the head as much as possible and helaena tries her goddamnest to minimize the harm done to her family. to further compound on the tragedy, b&c kill the opposite child, so now she has to live out the rest of her days knowing that the son left alive is the son SHE herself marked for the axe. which is what understandably drives her to lose her mind
now, in the show, the "problem" blood & cheese have doesn't exist at all: that they can't supposedly tell the twins apart. but (as awful as it sounds, since it involves sexual assault) they could very easily check which child has male genitalia and be done with it. it's a "problem" that takes literal seconds to solve. they don't need helaena at all! it becomes irrelevant which child she points towards - b&c can always just check! she can't save jaehaerys in this situation no matter what she does, because b&c were never interested in jaehaera in the first place. in the books, she has the ability to save one child and this exact horrible "agency" bestowed on her torments her for the rest of her days. in the show, even had she pointed towards jaehaera, it would have been a narrative plot hole for the writers to have killed her without checking
likewise, in the books, she begs them to kill her instead, but, in the show, she offers them a necklace? you can't deny that the dramatic stakes are lowered substantially by making that change. which one of these options would have been more filled with pathos? personally, it just feels like this was phia's moment to shine and, while she did a good job with what she had, every narrative choice was somehow made to subdue this horrible event and left her only crumbs to work with. cinematically-speaking, this scene (as it was executed) does not even come close to the iconic moments that cemented GoT into the collective consciousness, which is very strange, as the subject matter is anything but mediocre
and that's not even getting into the rest of the plot holes that others have already pointed out, like:
- why are there no guards at helaena's door or anywhere else for that matter? not just on that hallway, but on many other hallways, she has to run quite a lot to get to alicent's chambers
- why is her room unlocked at the very least
- why is ALICENT's room unlocked, for that matter? she is having secret guilty sex with criston and she forgets to lock her door in a castle full of spies? anyone could have walked in
- not even getting into this whole thing just being one huge misunderstanding + minimizing daemon's and mysaria's roles :))
- NOT EVEN mentioning removing the trauma of alicent witnessing all of this, gagged and bound on her own bed, not being able to help or intervene in any way
i can understand the likelihood of these elements happening sometimes (maybe someone does forget to lock their door from time to time, maybe a guard does shirk their duties from time to time), but you can't write all of them at once without it turning all looney tunes. if you introduce too many aspects that defy logic in your story, it ceases to be believable and just becomes bad writing
___________________________________________
also, "they killed <the boy>"? not "my son" or "jaehaerys"? it sounds so removed, don't you think? helaena out there on her mother's floor dropping exposition for the audience 🥲
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babygorewhore · 4 months ago
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*Bambi’s Covenant*
Spencer takes you home after work only to discover that the FBI’s sweet young good girl intern has a collection of…naughty romance novels in your bedroom. W.C. 1.3k something
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Requested by anonymous but I added my own spin! I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my love @xxbimbobunnyxx for hyping me up and helping me!
Warnings! Preachers daughter! Spitting! Praise! Choking! Oral! Fem receiving! Unprotected sex!
“Thank you for bringing me home, Spencer. You’re the sweetest.” You tell him as you step through the house. Spencer nodded and shrugged.
“Yeah!! No problem. Is your dad home?” He questions and you shake your head.
“No. Dad is at church preparing for the sermon tomorrow. My car is still at the shop.” You smile gently and gesture to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
Spencer checked his watch. “Oh, well I-i probably shouldn’t intrude.” You click your tongue and remove your pink converse. Ribbon laces neatly untied as you extend a pink painted finger nail.
“I insist. Even if you don’t stay, let me get you something for the road.” Spencer followed you to another room, taking in the family photos and glitter decorations of stickers.
“Does your dad ever…lecture you about working for the FBI? Given that he’s a preacher and you’re his only child. I’d imagine he didn’t take well to that.” Spencer mentally flinched at his own blunt questions. Sometimes he spoke without thinking but you sat down at the barstool. Your white skirt pooling around your thighs.
“Dad still worries. But I still go to church and I read my Bible every night before bed.” You bat your lashes at Spencer and he blushes.
“Just a little angel.”
That was your nickname by the team. You were so sweet, gentle and everyone wanted to protect you. You were the youngest member but it was a proud accomplishment. You were an intern and under the careful instruction of JJ. Spencer also took a liking to your quiet, meek nature. Sometimes he saw you praying or on the phone with your dad.
“You guys are the only ones who call me that.” You snap your fingers as you remember something, “Oh! Spencer, your copy of the book you loaned me is in my bedroom. I would go get it but I need to water the plants. It’s the first door on the right.” He stutters as you rush off outside but he slowly steps in the hallway and moves to your door.
Your room was as he expected. White and pink with soft pillows. Stuffed animals. A desk with a bible, notebooks and your clothes neatly hung. Spencer’s eyes focused on your bookshelf and surprise took him as he saw the titles of several…
Dark romance books.
He didn’t just read nonfiction novels. Spencer also had a secret collection of fantasies he read about in the comfort of his own home. He bit his full lower lip when he traced his gaze to a particular book that was known for its kinky content.
A sweet girl like you was into that sort of thing?
Spencer always viewed you as sort of innocent despite the horrors on the job. You never even cursed. You were as cute and gentle as…Bambi.
Yet Spencer felt his dick twitch as he thought about you lying in your pretty bed reading naughty books. Maybe even touching yourself afterwards.
He stepped closer to your dresser, peeking over his shoulder as he opened it and he groaned. Spencer saw an array of toys. Small vibrators, plugs, Lacey panties and bras with a bow in the middle.
“Spencer?” He spun around at the sound of your voice and shuffled guiltily as you stared at him. Your drawer was wide open and you rushed over to shut it.
“Why were you looking in there?”
“I-I-“ He blinked rapidly as you squeezed in between him and the dresser.
“Well? Spencer?”
“I didn’t know you were into those kinds of books.” Spencer admitted and tried to change the subject. His attraction to you grew as you stood taller.
“Yeah I am. You think I’m just a Bible thumping prude?” Spencer glanced at the cross above your chest.
“I didn’t think the preacher's daughter even knew what these things were…” He reached down and gently pulled you closer with a finger, using the necklace to tug you. His lips hovered above yours.
“I didn’t think a nerd who liked to play chess in his spare time knew anything about fucking.” You whispered back and glanced at his parted mouth.
You part your own lips and stick out your tongue. Spencer knew immediately what you were asking for. He spit inside, the drool coating your gloss and you moaned. Spencer crushed his mouth to yours in a heated kiss. You buried your hands in his hair as he walked you backwards to bed. Spencer crawled on top of you without breaking the kiss.
“Wrap your hand around my neck,” You whine as he latches his lips to your jaw and his hand drifts up your torso. He obliges and squeezes your throat.
“Doesn’t surprise me you like that scene. Where he chokes her, spits in her mouth. Not such an angel are you?” Spencer rasps and uses his other palm to hike up your skirt. Exposing your white thong.
“Mmm, I’m your angel.” You plead with big eyes and he nods. He kisses down your neck, chest and works his way down to hover above your pelvis.
“Yeah? You want me to worship you like you worship God? You want me to eat your pussy?” You claw the blankets and nod.
“Yes, please! Please!” You beg and Spencer yanks off your panties, taking in your glistening cunt and he inhales sharply.
“I knew it would be pretty. I need to taste it…” He mumbles and presses his head against it. Spencer flattens his tongue against your clit, savoring the precum leaking from your hole as he laps at it like a dog. He moans and grinds down on the bed as your sweet sounds. “That feel good, Angel?” He asks.
“Uh huh!” You squeak as he buries his whole face in. Your fingers gather his hair tightly as Spencer messily sucks your center between his lips and laps at it with his tongue.
“Jesus! Fuck!” You sputter and Spencer pulls back and spits on your cunt.
“You’re such a good girl, princess. You’re so fucking sweet. I knew you’d be.” He worked his way back up, pulling down his pants and boxers. Spencer’s impressive sized cock slapped against his thigh and your mouth watered.
“Fuck me. Please, please, please!” You whined and panted.
Spencer nodded, wrapping his hand around your throat again.”Gonna recreate all those filthy scenes, Angel.” He pushed inside your pussy, his dick filling you to the brim and you mewled, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Fuck, Spencer, you feel so good. Keep going, keep going, I needed it so bad. Don’t stop!” You whined and threw your head back as he gave you a hard thrust. Spencer tightened his hold.
“Yeah? You want me to keep going? Your pussy is so tight, been wanting to do this forever.” He feels his release coming as the headboard hits the wall.
“Cum in me. Please, cum in me. Don’t want you to pull out! Stuff me full.” Your eyes water as your stomach tightens, a familiar feeling rising from nights with your vibrator as it explodes.
You cream all over his dick, a pornographic sound escaping you as Spencer’s own cum mixes with yours. Ropes of fluid coat your insides and push out from your entrance. He pulls out, admiring his dripping cock and fucks it back in.
Your eyes roll back as you’re overstimulated.
“That’s my girl, you’re being such a good Bambi taking it. You wanna keep being a good girl?” Spencer prods as he continues moving inside you. You nod rapidly as your arms wrap around his shoulders.
“I’m gonna cum in you over and over again, plug it up then make you go to church like that tomorrow. Then you can pray to me instead.” Spencer buried his face in your neck and pulled your skin between his teeth.
Thank god he discovered your secret.
@oceandriveab @oceanblvd111 @starkeysprincess @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx
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redvdress · 4 months ago
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A/N: No warning, just comforting grumpy Levi.
“Shit, that feels nice,” Levi muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, though the usual steel in his tone was missing. His eyes were half-lidded, their sharpness softened by exhaustion. Rarely did he ever allow himself such moments of vulnerability, but with you (just you) it felt almost natural, as if the weight he constantly carried could be set down, even if just for a short while.
You smiled, a knowing glint in your eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair, something you’d learned he secretly enjoyed despite his protests. “You always act like you hate this,” you teased lightly, your tone playful, but affectionate. “But I know better by now.”
“Tch.” He clicked his tongue, his usual response to any kind of teasing, though the lack of edge in his voice betrayed him. “Don’t get used to it, brat,” he grumbled, his expression still fixed in that typical frown of his. But even then, there was something different in the way his shoulders had relaxed ever so slightly. “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it, though.”
You continued with gentle, deliberate movements, your touch careful, knowing that someone like Levi rarely let down his guard. His entire life had been a fight, a constant battle for survival—first in the slums of the Underground, then against the Titans, and later against human enemies. His body bore the scars of countless battles, each one a reminder of the burden he carried.
“You’re really different when it’s just us,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, aware that pushing too hard might cause him to retreat into his usual stoicism. “Softer, in a way.”
He snorted, a sound that could have almost been a laugh if it weren’t for the way he quickly masked it. “Softer, huh?” His eyes flicked toward you, narrowing slightly in mock warning. “Don’t go spreading that around. I have a reputation to maintain.” His voice carried that familiar gravelly tone, but underneath it, there was a rare warmth, something only you seemed to bring out in him.
You smiled at that, knowing full well how Levi valued his hardened exterior, the one that made him humanity’s strongest soldier. “Your secret’s safe with me,” you reassured him, fingers still threading through his dark locks. “But honestly, you should let yourself relax more often. You deserve it. If anyone does, it’s you.”
For a moment, silence settled between you, comfortable yet weighted. The tension that usually clung to him like a second skin seemed to ease, though not completely. Levi was someone who lived on the edge, always anticipating the next battle, the next loss. He rarely allowed himself to dwell in peace, because peace, to him, felt fleeting. Too fragile. Too easily shattered.
“It’s just… hard to switch off,” he finally admitted, his voice rougher now, as if the words had to be dragged out. “I’m always waiting for the next fight, the next crisis. Can’t afford to stop. Not when there’s still so much at stake.”
You nodded, your heart aching for him. For all that he’d been through, for the people he’d lost. Erwin. Hange. The countless soldiers under his command who had fallen in the endless war against the Titans. You understood why it was so hard for him to relax, why he felt that resting—even for a moment—was a luxury he couldn’t afford.
“But even you,” you murmured softly, leaning closer, “even humanity’s strongest soldier needs a break. You’re human, Levi.”
He scoffed, the usual harshness returning, though it lacked its usual bite. “Yeah, well, being human is a pain in the ass.”
You let out a quiet laugh, knowing full well how much he hated admitting to any kind of weakness, even if it was something as simple as being tired. But as your eyes met his, you saw the rare softness there—the vulnerability he never showed anyone else. Levi was a man who had spent his life hiding his pain, locking it away behind walls of indifference and sharp glares, but with you, those walls had cracks.
Leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, something that would have earned you a scowl if it were in front of anyone else. But here, in the privacy of this quiet moment, he allowed it. “You’re my pain in the ass,” you whispered, a gentle teasing lilt to your words.
For a second, the smallest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. A real smile. Not the sardonic, bitter kind he sometimes gave in battle, but something more genuine. “Damn right I am,” he muttered, his hand instinctively reaching up to grasp yours, though he said nothing about it.
The room was quiet, save for the occasional distant noises from the outside—a world that never seemed to stop moving, never gave anyone a real chance to breathe. But here, in this small pocket of time, it was just the two of you, lying there in a rare moment of peace.
Levi shifted slightly, adjusting himself so that he could pull you closer, his hand resting on your back in a way that felt protective, possessive, but also… gentle. “Thanks,” he muttered gruffly, his voice low, but there was a sincerity in it that you didn’t hear often from him. He rarely let himself be this open, this honest.
You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you simply rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a reminder that beneath the soldier, beneath the hardened exterior, Levi was still human. Still someone who could feel, even if he didn’t always allow himself to.
For now, that was enough. You could feel the tension in his body slowly unwind, bit by bit, as he allowed himself—if only for a short while—to rest.
Tomorrow, the world would demand everything from him again. But for tonight, he could just be Levi.
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katebishopsbow · 1 year ago
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MISSING PIECE • F1 GRID
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pairing: f1 grid x driver!reader (platonic)
summary: you have always taken pride in your ability to handle the press, until a journalist mentioned a sensitive topic that you had tried desperately to avoid – your estranged father. you struggled to give a response, and your fellow drivers showed no hesitation to jump in and defend you.
tags: angst, hurt/comfort, daddy issues, mentions of abusive parent, found family
word count: 3k
(image is not mine)
─────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───────
Formula 1 journalists have always been known to be brutal – asking questions that teetered on the brink of privacy violation and unnecessarily hostile probing with the excuse of “providing insightful coverage” on the highly competitive sport.
That was why media training existed – to prepare drivers for the harshest, most demanding questions thrown at them and rewire their brains such that instead of lashing out, they would be able to gracefully divert the focus to something else while also preserving their pristine image.
You had always excelled at handling the media, and your ability to constantly remain level-headed even when they asked the most ridiculous of questions was something you took pride in – until a journalist purposefully asked about a subject you had desperately tried to avoid ever since your F1 career started.
The relationship you and your father had was rather difficult to explain. The two of you became distant since the day your parents divorced and you decided to walk away from his constant emotional unavailability and manipulation he so skillfully disguised as paternal love. He didn’t bother asking you to stay – well, he never bothered doing anything when it came to you. He called occasionally, only when he needed something from you and your mother, and sent birthday cards out of obligation a month late because god forbid he remembered your birthday if your mother hadn’t reminded him.
Then the calls became less frequent, and then they stopped altogether, and his empty promises of visiting became blatant lies that you no longer believed in. Your father gradually turned into a stranger, a missing piece, a clouded memory left behind in the childhood days of your life.
It was a hard subject for you to talk about, something you would much rather keep away from the limelight and scrutiny of the world. Unfortunately for you, secrets weren’t really a thing in F1, and the obvious absence of one of your parents on the grid and in all your victory celebrations had been noticed by the public’s watchful eyes.
So your secret was no longer a secret. All the drivers on the grid were aware of it, and a few closest to you had known the full truth of your strained relationship with your father, but they all avoided mentioning it as they knew it was a family matter you wanted to remain private. Most journalists were also respectful enough to avoid asking insensitive questions when interviewing you, phrasing their words like “How will you celebrate the win with your family?” instead of using the term “parents”, and you were more than appreciative of that.
So when the voice of a certain reporter who was known to be ruthless with his questioning echoed through the press conference, directing the uncomfortable and out-of-the-blue question toward you, you suddenly found yourself at a loss for words.
“Rumors have been circulating the Internet recently about you and your father. There are accusations against you claiming that you were ‘selfish’ and ‘ungrateful’ for cutting off ties with your parent, that a callous and unforgiving person such as yourself does not deserve a seat or to be the inspiration for young minds. What are your comments on such claims, and have you ever experienced regret for turning your back on your family – your very own flesh and blood?”
The sudden silence in the room was suffocating, and the only sound you could hear was the heartbeat that was drumming loudly in your ears as the colour drained from your face. The discussion revolving around your relationship with your father wasn’t anything you were unfamiliar with, but to hear it being brought up so directly in front of the press and all your fellow drivers, and all the demeaning names that people had called you – it had felt so demoralizing.
What happened between you and your dad was entirely private, people outside of your family who had never gone through what you had experienced should never have the right to make comments on your decision to leave. They didn’t know what it was like to have a father who was never there, who constantly let you down with his lies and broken promises, who subjected all his volatile temper and toxic outbursts to his daughter and wife.
You had enough of his bullshit and were simply sick of pretending to be the perfect little family, so you left with your mother and told yourself that you would never look back. It would be a lie if you said that you didn’t miss the presence of your dad every now and then – the palpable emptiness he left behind had and would continue to haunt you – but you also never once regretted your decision.
“I – I don’t think… these accusations… umm –” The composure you had always displayed in front of the media was long gone, and you struggled to find the right words to say in response to such an uncomfortable question. Every pair of eyes in the room was fixated on you while that journalist watched you with an inspective expression on his face, just waiting for the moment when you break – wanting you to lose control so that he could have the reaction he needed to write his article.
And all of a sudden, you were back in your childhood home, standing in the living room with your head hung low, fighting back tears as your father unleashed his wrath at you over the smallest, most trivial things. “What’re you crying for, huh? You want me to give you something to cry about?” he would say to you, his voice harsh and venomous as he screamed out insults that scarred your fragile little heart.
Then you were back in your grade school classroom, standing in front of the whole class and staying completely silent after your teacher assigned you the speech topic “My dad is my hero”. Your classmates looked at you as if you had grown a second head, confused by the way you were struggling to speak about a topic they could so easily blabber on for hours. You just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything – your dad was never your hero, he was a distant stranger who struck fear within you whenever he was around.
Then you were back in the bedroom at your new home, reading the birthday card that your dad had sent to you a month late. Written in the top left corner of the page was a scribble of your name, completely misspelled. You closed the card with tears brimming in your eyes, knowing that your existence was slowly beginning to fade from your father’s memories. You tried to remember what his voice sounded like, his calloused hands, his boisterous laughter on the rare days when he wasn’t screaming profanities at you and your mother, and then you realized that he was beginning to fade from yours, and it had felt so, so painful.
Blinking away the hectic memories, you were quickly dragged back to the reality of the press conference. Everyone was still waiting for your response, and the reporter continued to wait for you to crumble under pressure, but all you wanted to do was to run out of the room and hide from people’s blazing eyes, to not have the world criticize you on how you dealt with your family trauma.
“I think that is an absolutely unprofessional question to ask if I am being honest.” Max’s stern voice finally broke the silence, and you were still attempting to process the situation when he continued to chastise the overstepping journalist with an irritated scowl, “The focus of the press conference is to discuss the races and the drivers’ performances on the track, not to delve into people’s personal matter and bring up their family situations which clearly do not have any relevance to the sport.”
The Dutch driver had always been brutally honest, never afraid to speak his mind and call out the press for their bullshit, and this was no exception. Having a complicated relationship with his father himself, he knew the hardships of being in your situation and struggling with toxic family dynamics, and he experienced first-hand how the media loved exploiting such issues for the sake of a story. More importantly, you were his friend, and he would do anything to defend you.
You exchanged thankful glances with the driver next to you, feeling the warmth that blossomed over your heart when Max placed his hand over your trembling ones beneath the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze in a way that meant “Don’t worry. I got your back”.
Upon hearing what Max had to say, the reporter was quick to defend himself. “I was merely hoping to get some insights on whether or not the recent rumors had affected her performance on the track. That’s all,” he attempted to reason, trying to rationalize his intrusive question but was interrupted by another driver who frankly also had enough.
“I think everybody in this room is well aware that is not your intention,” Charles spoke up from his seat, staring at the lying journalist with a tight-lipped smile that was far from friendly. Being one of your closest friends on the grid, Charles was also no stranger to your father’s abusive tendencies and knew how tough it was for you to open up to him about such horrible memories. To see the press tried to take advantage of your vulnerability and blatantly lie about their ill intention sickened him, and he was not going to just sit and watch it happen.
The McLaren driver sitting beside him nodded as he let out a light chuckle, “Yeah I mean – I’m literally an idiot at reading the room but even I can tell that getting racing insights was not your only intention, mate.” The audacity some of these journalists and reporters had was astounding, thinking they could get away with asking disrespectful questions just because of their job titles. When it came to snapping back at their baleful antics, Lando did it once on camera with his iconic “Who are you?” and he would certainly do it again.
Carlos couldn’t help but smirk at Lando's cleverness – masking his reproval at the journalist with a self-deprecating joke. When his attention landed on the audience seated before him, he allowed himself to enjoy the caught-off-guard look on the journalist's now reddened face. “Serves him right for asking stupid questions,” Carlos muttered in a hushed voice just loud enough for himself to hear before turning his head to catch your eyes, shooting you a quick smile as a sign of support. You returned the kind gesture, thankful that your friends were standing by your side when you needed help.
As the journalist busied himself with trying to recollect his composure, an awkward silence hung upon the room once again. That was when Daniel perked up from his seat, the usual cheerful smile on his face as he proceeded to do what he did best – easing the tense atmosphere and diffusing the tension with a touch of humour. “Well, I can totally affirm that Lando can be an idiot sometimes,” he joked while grinning mischievously at the papaya driver, and the mood in the room visibly lightened as a few reporters laughed at his playful words.
“But on a more serious note though, I do believe it’s important to remember that drivers are also human beings, and we all have our own struggles and difficulties both on and off track. It’s crucial to respect drivers’ boundaries and not exploit their personal struggles, and our sole focus should always be on the sport and racing,” Daniel voiced out respectfully, emphasizing the one thing that people always seemed to forget – that drivers deserved privacy and owed nobody any explanations on their personal lives, even if they lived under the spotlight.
Oscar and Pierre who were seated at the further end of the table also nodded at Daniel’s resonating words, expressing their agreement on the importance of maintaining a respectful and uplifting environment for all drivers. “What are your thoughts, y/n?” A female reporter in the crowd raised the question, subtly giving you an encouraging smile as she steered the attention back to you, offering you the chance to speak your truth and address the situation directly.
The fear and dread within you slowly dissipated, replacing them was the heartwarming gratitude at your fellow drivers who showed no hesitation in defending you in the face of intrusive questioning. It was then that you realized you were never alone in this journey, that the other drivers on the grid were not only your competitors but your family who understood what you had gone through and would unconditionally have your back.
It was their reassuring glances, their wholehearted support, and their willingness to stand up for you that enveloped you with the strength and courage needed to finally speak up for yourself. “I would like to start off by thanking all the drivers here with me, and thank you to the journalist for that rather personal question,” you spoke clearly at your microphone, your voice emboldened by the newly found determination as you watched the journalist shift uncomfortably in his seat.
“While I do appreciate the public’s concern regarding my family issues, I would prefer to keep my personal life private. The decision to distance myself from my father to prioritize my well-being and emotional health is not something I regret doing, and it is not fair for people outside my family who don’t understand the complexities of our relationship to make assumptions on the matter.”
Taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts, you made the closing remarks to your statement, “Which is why I kindly ask for your understanding and space moving forward, to respect the privacy of not only me but everybody on the grid and allow us to deal with our personal matter privately, and ultimately create a respectful community within Formula 1.”
You looked around the room when you had finally finished speaking, meeting the eyes of your fellow drivers and the rows of reporters sitting before you. Your hands were still shaking from the nerves that pulsated through you, but a firm squeeze of Max’s hand pulled you back to the present before you could begin spiraling. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he said with a gentle smile.
The media training sessions had come in handy once again, and you managed to address the situation in a graceful manner without revealing more details than you were comfortable sharing while also highlighting the importance of personal boundaries in the world of motorsports. “Thank you, y/n,” the previous female reporter nodded at you with a proud smile, glad that you put those unprofessional reporters who had no sense of boundaries back in their place.
Among the sea of cameras and eager reporters who could so easily expose the vulnerabilities of the drivers with a simple flick of their pens, some suddenly found themselves becoming the subject of such exposure, called out for their prying questions and insatiable need to twist people’s words for a click-worthy story.
It was evident that what you and the other drivers said had struck something within them as they silently began reflecting on their roles and responsibilities as reporters, and perhaps remembering the reason why they had chosen journalism in the first place – to report the factual truth to the public, or to fabricate things in exchange for views and attention?
The press conference proceeded to continue, but the shift in the atmosphere was apparent when journalists asked their questions with more sensitivity and introspection, mentioning topics that genuinely mattered instead of blindly chasing exclusive headlines. When the conference finally ended, you and all the drivers collectively exuded a breath of relief, feeling a weight being lifted off your shoulders now that the far-from-enjoyable media day was over.
As you exited the room and were away from the cameras and people, you turned around and gave your friends an appreciative smile. “Thank you all… for standing up for me.” You must have sounded like you were close to tears because Daniel began cooing at you teasingly as if he were comforting a crying child, “Aww… don’t worry about it, kiddo.”
Charles leaned forward to ruffle your hair almost like what an older brother would, and he said to you tenderly, “We’re a team, and we’ll always have your back.” You were not going to cry initially, but now you weren’t so sure. At that moment, you had felt so loved, so supported, and it made you want to hide under the covers and bawl your eyes out from the rush of emotions that crashed over you.
Your friends, understanding the depths of your emotions, gathered around to offer you their words of encouragement and gentle pats on your back. “I love you guys, really…” you whispered quietly, looking at them with such sincerity and gratitude. How lucky were you to be able to have these people as your competitors, your friends, your found family?
“Who wants to go and eat because I’m actually starving,” Lando exclaimed as he began walking in the direction of the restaurants, and a few of the drivers tailed behind him as they joined in on the rant about how hungry they were. You watched them with an overwhelming sense of fondness, and when Max reached out his hand for you to take, you gladly accepted it.
Listening to the light-hearted banter and laughs that filled the air with your best friend right next to you, you knew that this was exactly where you belonged. Not in the tiny living room with your father screaming at you, not in the classroom with the kids who didn’t understand what you had been through, not in the bedroom where you cried over your fading memories with your father, but right here – with your favourite people who would always be there to fight your battles with you.
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allfearstofallto · 2 months ago
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Soo, I just saw your yandere diluc and Amelia, I was wondering if there is any scenario or at least a moment where reader treats Amelia well, I can't stand it anymore that she doesn't feel love from her mom 😭😭, girl's just a cutie pie
TW: angst, afab reader, reader has children, yes this is still a yandere Diluc story <3
Did you know that Amelia has a secret? Something not even her own father knows? Well, she does. And you're the only person who she's told it to.
Amelia is plagued by nightmares. Bad dreams about monsters and ghosts. It's even worse when she wakes up in her bedroom, all alone and in the dark. In the pitch black darkness, all the shadows look like creatures out to get her and the only place safe is beneath her covers. She'll hide there, trembling in fear and covering her ears with her hands, all the creaks and groans of the old manor, sound like walking and talking in the mind of a scared child.
Amelia never tells her father about her bad dreams or fear of the dark. Diluc already has a tendency to be overbearing when it comes to her. His love for her being so strong, a little too strong. She's made a name for herself of being independent, despite him, and would hate for that to all be washed away if she told him she was afraid.
Stormy nights are the worst. The wind howls and the trees tapping against the windows sound like claws trying to get in. When a particularly loud thunder strike booms, she jumps out of her bed and runs. She doesn't know why she runs, but she does, straight towards her father's room. Her pride would have to be put aside for this battle, he was the only one who could protect her.
But, before she could reach his door, she bumps into something at full speed. Falling back on her behind, she whimpers out in pain. She knows the manor like the back of her hand, having lived there since the day she was born. She could navigate the place with her eyes closed, and even better in the dark. Yet she still ran into something. She ran into you.
Gulping a bit in fright and in fear of what you'd say to her, she helped her head down as she stood and dusted off her night gown, "I'm...I'm sorry," she muttered, her eyes welling up with tears as she expected to receive those rude words from you and the look of disdain.
"Where are you running to this late at night?" You questioned. Much to her surprise you didn't sound angry or disgusted by her presence. You sounded worried. Like you truly cared about what she was doing.
Amelia pointed to Diluc's door with her finger, "Daddy's room." She said, wide eyes looking right up at you.
You looked back at the door then down at the girl. She wasn't saying it, but you could see it. The way her eyes were wide with fear and filled with tears, the way her little hands trembled while gripping the hem of her dress. She was scared. Scared of the storm. Just like you were.
"You know he's asleep, right?"
Amelia nodded slowly.
"But I'm awake," you assured her, "Would you like to sit with me?"
Her deep red eyes opened to the side of saucers at your words. Never once was she even allowed to be near you, she even remembered being told that she was bottle fed because of it. Anger should've made her say no, but the excitement of finally spending time with you, her mother, made her not care anymore. She held your hand tight as you guided her down the stairs, like if she didn't, this version of you would disappear and she'd be alone on the dark again.
You led her to the kitchen, were you lit a few candles. And sat Amelia promptly on the counter. She didn't ask what you were doing, afraid that anything she said would cause a switch to flip within you. She was quiet and attentive, like she was always told to be during her lessons. Watching as you poured some milk into a pot on the stove, not saying anything, but still smiling weakly. She'd never seen you smile before. Not around her at least.
"I'm also scared of storms," you finally said and even though you were telling her something bad, she smiled. You and her had something in common. She never thought she'd have anything in common with you, except her face that Diluc complimented her on constantly. Saying that she got all her beauty from her mother.
"And the dark too?" Amelia asked softly. You were the first person she was telling her secret to and her heart was about to pound out of her chest at the thought of rejection from you.
You hummed a bit, pouring two glasses of milk as you thought about it, "I used to be." You handed Amelia one of the glasses, holding the other for yourself, "Sometimes, I still am."
It was like a weight was lifted off of her shoulders at your admission. You were by far the most independent person she knew. Even if she thought you hated her, she saw you as fearless. So to know that you too felt fear, of anything at all, made her less tense around you.
Amelia took a sip of her warm milk and you did the same. It was sweet, like honey, and she downed the glass of a few moments, whipping her mouth with the sleeve of her dress. The two of you didn't talk much while you finished yours, but Amelia couldn't help, but to stare. In the candle light, with the crackling of thunder outside, you looked like an entirely different person.
You picked her up when she finished and she rested her head on your shoulder. You flinched a bit, but patted her back regardless. It was the first time you'd held her, or at least, the first time she could remember. She felt safe in your arms, even safer than she did in her father's. It wasn't long before the warm milk and the warmth of your body had its effect on her, and she was snoring peacefully on your shoulder.
Amelia woke up the next morning under her mountains of sheets and stuffies, not remembering how she got back to bed. But remembering the night she had, a part of her thought she'd dreamt it. If she did, it was the best dream she'd ever had on a stormy night. But the slight sweetness on her lips told her it was real.
Amelia had two secrets now, one was that she was scared of the dark and the other, was that she has someone to go to when she was feeling afraid.
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deliciousangelfestival · 28 days ago
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The Imperfect Couple - 15
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Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader
Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.
Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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“Seems like you're declaring war on me,” Bucky said, his voice steady but his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Does it sound like that? Forgive me.” Steve set the golf club down, a smirk playing on his lips. “What I meant is, we have to be aware of everything. We're this close to winning.”
“I agree.” Bucky replied, his expression calm, though his mind churned with unspoken thoughts.
“This is why I trust you.” Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “Remember, we're playing in the highest league now.”
Steve paused before adding casually, “By the way, my son wants to visit Nate. Is that okay with you?”
“I'll let my wife and Nate know,” Bucky responded, his voice neutral, though he felt a flicker of unease.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
When Bucky got home, he saw you sitting cross-legged on the floor with Nate, working on a puzzle together. You both seemed relaxed, unaware of the weight he carried from the conversation with Steve. He walked over, his movements deliberate, and knelt beside Nate.
“Nate, buddy, can you go to your room for a bit? I need to talk to your aunt,” Bucky said gently, placing a hand on Nate’s shoulder.
Nate, always obedient, nodded. “Okay, Uncle Bucky,” he said before scooping up a few puzzle pieces and heading inside.
Once it was just the two of you, you glanced at Bucky and noticed his exhausted expression. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“What? Did something worse just hit you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Bucky took a breath, his jaw tightening. “Did you just involve Ian?” His tone was calm, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.
You widened your eyes, momentarily caught off guard by the question. That single look was enough for him to sigh deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I…” His hands clenched into fists momentarily. He wanted to be angry, knowing full well this would put you on Steve’s radar.
“Just… tell Ian to slow down,” Bucky muttered, clearly uneasy.
“I can’t,” you said softly but firmly. “The way Ian works is far more efficient than anything I could do.”
Bucky rubbed his temples, his frustration mounting. “Then I hope God protects him.”
“Bucky…” you stepped closer, your voice serious. “Be honest with me. Is he in danger?”
Bucky looked down, his hands braced on the counter, his shoulders tense. “Steve just gave me a warning. It won’t matter to him if there’s blood on his hands.”
Your heart dropped. ‘Fuck,’ you thought as panic began to bubble inside. You immediately grabbed your phone and dialed Ian, but there was no answer. Frustration and fear mingled in your chest as you quickly texted him instead: Be careful. Eyes and ears everywhere.
You glanced at Bucky, your stomach twisting. “By the way, the Rogers twins want to come here to play with Nate,” Bucky added as if it were a casual comment, though his voice carried an edge.
“You allowed that?” you asked, the disbelief evident in your tone.
The mention of the twins unsettled you. Your mind flashed back to watching The Shining in secret with Tim, and how the twins in that movie had always given you the creeps. That eerie feeling wasn’t just from the film anymore—it was rooted in real life. You had learned the truth: William and Charles, Steve's sons, had a reputation for bullying other students. The thought of them around Nate made your skin crawl.
Would they be a good influence on Nate? You highly doubted it.
Bucky gave a tired shrug. “I can’t say no to the future president, right?”
You pressed your lips into a thin line, knowing there was little you could do to stop it. But one thing was clear—you would be keeping a very close eye on them when they came to visit.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
The twins arrived at the house, their faces lit up with matching grins, excitement practically radiating off them. Nate, catching sight of them, bolted to the door, his small body bouncing with joy.
"William! Charles!" Nate called out, bouncing on his toes as he welcomed them in. His innocent joy was palpable—he was simply happy to have people he knew coming to play with him.
"Hey, buddy," William said, ruffling Nate’s hair as they walked inside.
After a brief exchange, they settled in front of the game console, and soon, the twins had chosen a violent shooter game. The screen flickered with gunfire and explosions, the sound effects jarring in the otherwise quiet room. Nate, seated between them, initially watched in awe but quickly became uncomfortable.
His tiny hands shot up to cover his eyes, and he flinched with every loud noise, his body tense as he pressed himself into the couch. He covered his ears, trying to block out the unsettling sounds, but he didn’t say a word, not wanting to ruin the moment.
You watched from a distance, trying not to be the nosy adult. You wanted to give them space, but seeing Nate’s frightened reaction twisted something in your gut. Likewise, you couldn’t stand by anymore. Walking over to the boys, you kept your tone polite, but firm.
“Guys,” you said, your voice cutting through the sounds of the game, “is there another game that’s not as scary? Look, Nate’s getting scared.”
William glanced down at Nate, who was huddled close to him. “Oh, why didn’t you say something, buddy?” he said, patting Nate’s shoulder as if that would fix everything.
Charles sighed and turned off the violent game, switching to something more child-friendly. "Here, we’ve got a game for you, Nate." He scrolled through the options and selected a bright, colorful one with cartoon rabbits running a restaurant.
The second the screen changed, Nate’s face lit up. “Wow!” he exclaimed, his fear dissolving as he leaned forward, eager to play. The teenage boys, now seemingly patient, guided him through the simple controls, explaining how to serve food to the cartoon animals. You felt a wave of relief. Maybe—just maybe—the twins weren’t as bad as you had feared.
Later, the boys decided to go swimming. You sat on a poolside chair, keeping a close eye on Nate. He was wearing a floatie around his small frame, happily splashing in the shallow end while William and Charles horsed around further away.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed. It was Ian. "H...ell...o"
You stood up, checking the signal, which was terrible. Frowning, you moved toward the balcony. The pool was indoors, so you stepped outside, hoping for better reception.
“I just got your text,” Ian said when the call finally connected. His voice was rough, but you could hear his smirk through the line. “You know this isn’t going to stop me.”
“I’m serious, Ian,” you replied, leaning against the balcony rail. “Bucky told me directly. You’re in danger.”
A pause, and then Ian’s voice, low and almost teasing, came through. “Hmm… Guess where I am right now?”
You sighed, trying to play along. “London? Since you went home, right?”
“Nope. Paris. And I’ve found something—something lethal enough to kill Steve,” Ian said, his tone dark with implication.
Paris? You froze. Was this related to Hazel? Your heart pounded with a new surge of anxiety. “Ian, don’t—”
But before you could finish, you heard it. A splash—loud, frantic. You turned around, the blood draining from your face. In the water, you saw a small hand desperately reaching out, the floatie floating uselessly nearby. It was Nate.
Panic gripped you like a vice. “Nate!” you screamed, dropping your phone as you sprinted back inside.
Without hesitation, you dove into the pool, your body hitting the cold water like a shock to your system. Your hands reached for him, pulling Nate’s tiny, trembling body to the surface. His arms latched around your neck in a vice grip, coughing and sputtering as you lifted him from the water.
He gasped, burying his face against your shoulder, his small body shaking as he clung to you. “He…he can’t swim!” you snapped at the twins, your voice filled with raw anger.
William and Charles stood there on the edge of the pool, unfazed. “That’s why we were teaching him,” they answered in unison, their tone almost dismissive.
Nate let out a pained cough, his voice weak. “My nose hurts…” he whimpered, rubbing his face against your neck.
Your heart ached at the sight of him, vulnerable and hurt. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, and you glared at the twins. You remembered that they both just watched while Nate was drowning. Without raising your voice, you pointed to the door, your finger shaking with fury. “Get out. Now.”
The command echoed in the room, sharp and unforgiving. William and Charles flinched, startled by the intensity in your voice. Without a word, they quickly grabbed their things, shooting one last glance at each other before rushing out the door.
You stayed in the pool, holding Nate close, your teeth gritted in anger and your heart still pounding. You knew then—those boys were never going to be allowed near Nate again. Not after this.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
The twins walked into the Roger household, their shoulders slumped, clearly sensing the storm waiting for them. Behind them, Peggy followed with a stern but composed expression. As they stepped further into the room, the tension was palpable—Steve stood there, arms crossed, his face hard as stone. He had heard everything from you, and his sons could feel his fury even before he said a word.
William and Charles instinctively moved closer to Peggy, seeking the safety of her presence as if she could shield them from the inevitable.
Peggy, sensing the mounting tension, stepped forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. “Steve, calm down. I will talk to them.”
Steve let out a frustrated sigh, his clenched jaw releasing only slightly. “I’m not going to yell,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I need to say something.”
He fixed his cold gaze on his sons. “Both of you will be homeschooled from now on.”
The twins’ faces fell in disbelief. “Dad, no!” William blurted, and Charles’ mouth hung open, too stunned to speak.
“I know,” Steve said, his voice quieter now, but there was no softness in it. “I know the main reason for your behavior is because your mother and I have been too busy for you. We never spent time together as a family.” His arms unfolded, and to their surprise, he pulled them into a hug. “So, homeschooling is the best option, isn’t it?” His tone sounded almost tender, but underneath it lay a cold warning.
William and Charles glanced at each other, then back at Peggy, silently pleading for her to intervene. But she didn’t. She stood still, her lips pressed tightly together, offering no rescue.
“Good children don’t question their parents,” Steve said, his voice dropping low. “You just say, ‘Yes, father.’”
The twins swallowed hard, a sinking feeling settling in their chests. “Yes, father,” they muttered in unison, their voices barely above a whisper. It felt as though their every move would now be monitored.
Steve’s lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t warm—it was the smile of a man in control. “Good. Now, go back to your rooms.”
The boys moved quietly, retreating upstairs, the weight of Steve’s words heavy on their shoulders.
Once they were out of sight, Steve’s smile faded. He turned toward Peggy, his tone biting. “This is why I never wanted to send them to boarding school in the first place. They needed parental guidance, not strict school rules.”
Peggy’s eyes narrowed, a tired look crossing her face. “Don’t start again, Steve. That decision was made by my father.”
Steve’s expression darkened at the mention of her father. His voice dripped with bitterness. “Oh yeah, him. I almost forgot. I’m glad he’s dead.”
Peggy’s face tensed, a flare of anger sparking in her eyes. “When will you stop badmouthing my father?”
Steve’s cold stare met hers. “Never.”
Steve had lived a life bound by duty, his role in the military shaping every part of him. He was a good soldier—respected, disciplined, and obedient. But despite his loyalty, promotions came slowly. His lack of a powerful family background meant he was always overlooked by those with better connections. Essentially, Steve was an orphan—without anyone to vouch for him, he was left behind.
He knew how the system worked. If you didn’t have the right name, the right family, there was always a price to pay. And Steve had paid it, doing the dirty work of his superiors without question, sacrificing his principles just to keep his place. The worst part of it all was that his commanding officer, General Carter, was his father-in-law.
Every step of his career, Steve had been a puppet for the man who held both his professional and personal life in his hands. The weight of it bore down on him every day.
“Good soldiers don’t ask why,” General Carter always said this to him. “They just say, ‘Yes, sir.’”
"Yes, sir." Steve answer it like he's a robot.
At some point, Steve had everything he’d ever thought he wanted—marriage, a steady career, money, and status. On paper, he should have been happy. But he wasn’t. His life felt dull, empty, like the spark had been drained from it.
The day he realized the truth hit him like a punch in the gut. He wasn’t his own man—he was nothing more than a tool for his father-in-law, a puppet dancing to someone else’s tune.
That was the moment he had enough. The frustration, the years of silently obeying, simmered into anger. He wanted to be the one in control. He was tired of taking orders—he wanted to be the one giving them.
Steve’s life had been dull for years, a constant routine of military duties, politics, and the weight of expectations. Until the day he met Hazel. She was much younger than him—vibrant, full of life—and he was supposed to give her advice, to help steer her back home. Julius and Caroline had asked him to help their daughter stop running away. But when Steve sat with Hazel and listened to her story, something shifted. Her reasons for running, the pressures she felt—her life mirrored his own struggles. For the first time in years, he felt empathy.
He told her, quietly, “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can find me.”
And from there, things changed. They grew closer, and eventually, more intimate. He knew it was wrong—cheating on his family, betraying his friends—but for the first time, Steve felt alive again. The numbness of his life vanished in her presence, replaced by something that burned, something real. And then came Nate, the baby born out of that connection, out of a love he hadn’t felt in years.
Steve’s thoughts snapped back to the present. His jaw clenched tightly as he faced Peggy. “Did you tell them to hurt Nate?”
Peggy stood her ground, her face a mix of frustration and cold calculation. “No,” she said flatly. “But they’re smart enough to figure out why their father cares so much about that kid, and why he’s always…” She hesitated, her lips curling into a thin smile. “Spending time with his little girlfriend. Maybe they’re just releasing their anger.”
Steve’s fists tightened until his knuckles turned white. “When I get into the White House, you won’t be coming with me.”
Peggy’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t flinch. “And what then?” she said with a mocking tilt to her voice. “You think you’re going to put that girl in my place? Have you forgotten who you are? You were a beggar, crawling to my father for help.”
Steve’s eyes darkened, a dangerous calm settling over him. “And this beggar has crawled his way to victory,” he said slowly, his voice low but filled with menace. “You can act high and mighty because of me. Don’t forget that I can take it all away from you.” He stepped closer, his words laced with venom. “Remember how your family got their business permits? How they were saved from corruption charges and tax evasion? That was because of me.”
Peggy let out a scoff, her eyes filled with disdain. “You think you’re a king now?” She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “I actually pity her, you know. Because one day, she’ll feel exactly what I felt. You’ll never be satisfied, Steve. You’ll never have enough.”
She turned to leave, her hand on the door. Before stepping out, Peggy glanced back at him, her eyes filled with cold certainty. “Never.”
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
You sat beside Nate, your heart heavy as you watched his small chest rise and fall, his face flushed with fever. The doctor had just left, handing you a bottle of medicine. "Make sure he drinks this, and let him rest completely," he’d said before exchanging a few quiet words with Bucky and leaving the apartment.
Nate’s red, feverish face made your heart ache. He had been through so much in just a few hours. You gently wiped a damp cloth over his forehead as Bucky sat beside you, silent and tense.
"Never, ever let Nate be alone with them again," you said, your voice firm.
Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I agree. And I’m sorry. I never thought they’d pull something like that."
“Don’t underestimate underage kids,” you warned, your voice sharp. “There are so many cases where perpetrators can’t be jailed because they’re underage.”
Bucky’s jaw tightened. "Noted. I won’t forget that."
A brief silence passed, then you asked, “Have you called Hazel?”
“I tried, but I couldn’t reach her. I called her assistant, though.”
You nodded, your mind still spinning. The memory of Nate sinking beneath the water haunted you, but there was something else gnawing at you—you hadn’t finished your conversation with Ian.
Excusing yourself, you left the room and grabbed your phone, your stomach dropping when you noticed the cracked screen from when you’d dropped it before diving into the pool.
You dialed Ian’s number, your fingers trembling as you pressed it to your ear. The first ring echoed, unanswered. Your heart pounded faster. The second ring—nothing. A cold sense of unease crept into your chest. Why wasn’t he answering?
On the third try, the ringing stopped abruptly, and you exhaled in relief. “Hello? Ian?” you asked quickly, your voice tight with worry.
There was a pause on the other end, then a voice you didn’t expect—familiar, but not Ian’s.
“Y/N?”
You froze, confusion flooding your mind. “Hazel? Why are you answering Ian’s phone?” Panic started to rise inside you, the pieces beginning to fall into place. Ian had gone to Paris. He had found something—something connected to Hazel and Steve.
“He… he can’t answer it,” Hazel whispered, her voice breaking.
Your breath caught in your throat, a chill racing down your spine. “Why?” The word came out in a shaky breath.
There was a long silence before Hazel finally spoke, her words hitting you like a sledgehammer.
“Because he’s dead.”
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babyfoxflower · 16 days ago
Text
Professor
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Human! Professor! Alastor x Fem! Reader
Modern College AU
Part 2 of 2 (Part 1)
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Age Gap (Alastor is 32 and Reader is 22), Soft! Dom Alastor, Oral Sex (Fem! Receiving), P in V Sex, Reader calls Al “Daddy,” Creampie
You groaned, “Fuck.”
You woke up to something soft rubbing against your face. You opened your eyes to see a cat drooling on your face.
I don’t have a cat.
You then realize that you’re not at home. The memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Immediate embarrassment washed over you. You sat up.
“Morning, Sunshine!”
“Morning, Professor,” the smell of bacon filled your nose.
“Come now, we’re not in class. Please call me Alastor,” he smiled at you.
Your vision focused to see Alastor making bacon and eggs.
“Hope you don’t mind, I made you breakfast. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
“No, I love eggs and bacon. Thank you…Alastor,” his name felt strange on your tongue, but you liked it.
Your attention turned to the cat, her fur was pure white and she had big green eyes.
“Your cat is cute. What’s her name?” You asked.
“Oh, thank you. She is quite lovely, isn’t she? Her name’s Luna.”
“Luna? Like the moon?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t she remind you of a full moon?”
You studied her for a moment, “Yes, I suppose she does….” You grinned as you pet her.
“Breakfast is ready,” Alastor said casually as if this situation was normal.
Does he not feel how awkward this is? I, a student, came over drunk and tried to seduce him. This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done.
“Alright, thank you,” you replied as you got out of his bed, smoothing out the sheets the best you could, and moved to the couch.
Alastor sat down next to you and handed you your breakfast along with a fork for the eggs.
“I can make you some toast too, if you’d like?”
“No, thank you. You’re very kind, but this should be enough for now.”
As soon as you took a bite of those soft scrambled eggs, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t necessarily scarf them down, put you did eat them rather quickly.
“I assuming by your expressions, the eggs were good?” He grinned like the Cheshire Cat, he had also finished his portion.
“Mm, yes, they were delicious! They might be the best eggs I’ve ever had, what did you put in them?”
“Mayonnaise. It adds creaminess and deepens the flavor.”
“Mayo? I usually hate mayo. But this tasted amazing.”
“I also butter the pan instead of using cooking spray.”
“My, aren’t you quite the chef?” You chuckled.
“I learned from the best. However, I can’t quite get them to taste like my mom’s. I don’t know what her secret is, she won’t even tell me!” He laughed.
“Are you close to your mom?” You asked before taking a bite of bacon, trying to make light conversation.
“Yes. I don’t get to see her that often anymore. She still lives in New Orleans. But I try to keep in touch with her as much as I can.”
“Oh, are you from New Orleans?”
“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised,” he said with a Southern drawl, there was pride in his voice.
“Ooo, I like that accent. Is it natural or put on?”
“Natural, however I’ve lost it a bit.”
“I guess moving so far up North will do that,” you smiled.
“Well, it didn’t help me keep it. That’s for sure,” he laughed. “How are you feeling, Darling? Does your head hurt at all?” He changed the subject.
“No, surprisingly. That Tylenol from last night must have worked.”
“I told you. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, thank you. You have a very comfortable mattress.”
You have a very comfortable mattress? Way to sound like a normal person, Y/n.
“Are you sure you’re alright, dear? You keep making uncomfortable faces.”
“I’m alright, I just…feel a little awkward….”
“Why?”
“Because of last night.”
“Oh, there’s no need to feel awkward about that.”
“But I embarrassed myself.”
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t even do anything wrong, my dear,” he flashed you a reassuring smile.
“Still, that was the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” you looked down at your bare feet, the shine of your red toe nail polish catching the light.
Alastor placed his plate on the coffee table before lifting up your chin, making you look at him, “Y/n, what you did in the grand scheme of things wasn’t even that bad. You haven’t at all changed my opinion of you, I still like and respect you. We all have rough nights, Darlin’.”
You put your plate down next to his. You brought your hand to his, giving it a light squeeze. He squeezed yours back.
“You want me to tell you an embarrassing story from my college days?” He asked.
“Yes,” you smiled.
The two of you leaned back on the couch. You rested your head on your arm as you listened intently to his story.
“Let’s see, it was my junior year, and my friends and I went out for a drinks. Back then, I wasn’t really good at pacing myself and would often end up getting plastered. Fast forward to the end of the night and I was stumbling up the steps to my apartment building. It was at that moment I realized that I had lost my key to my apartment.”
“Oh no.”
“Hold on, it gets worse. For some reason in my drunken state, I convinced myself that I couldn’t get in the building itself without my key,” he shook his head, “So I got this genius idea, I would scale the building all the way up to my roommate’s window and knock on it until he’d let me in.”
“Oh my god, did you fall!?”
“No, I actually succeeded in climbing up there. Amazingly, as it was on the tenth floor. The problem was my roommate wasn’t waking up. No matter how hard I banged on that window, he would not get out of bed. I was about to give up and find somewhere else to sleep that night, when I heard the sound of sirens.”
You knew where this was going, “Someone called the cops?”
“Someone called the cops.”
“What happened after that?”
“I explained everything to them the best I could. And then they informed me I didn’t need to have my key to get into the building, I could just have one of my neighbors buzz me in. I felt like the stupidest person alive,” he laughed.
“Did you ever make it to your apartment?” You giggled.
“Yes, it turns out that it wasn’t even locked. My roommate had a habit of not locking up before bed. And I didn’t even lose my key, it was in my back pocket,” Alastor visibly cringed, mentally face palming. “So, you see, my dear, you have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Do you feel better now?”
“A little bit. Thank you, Alastor,” you blushed.
“Of course, Sweetheart,” he smiled.
You started to feel more at ease. There was something about him that made you feel safe and warm. You knew that you picked the right person to be with.
For whatever reason, a memory popped into your mind from last night. You remembered something Alastor had said to you before you went to sleep.
“I promise, if you’re still interested in the morning when you’re sober, I will give you exactly what you want.”
A small grin made its way on your face.
“You know, I think there’s something on your glasses. Let me get it off for you,” you moved from your spot on the couch and straddled his lap.
You took his glasses off his face carefully and pretended to examine them.
The whole time he had this smile on his face that made it evident that he knew exactly what you were doing and he was throughly enjoying it.
“Oh, my mistake. It must just been the light,” you slid his glasses back on him, smoothly tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.
He chuckled, “If you wanted to sit in my lap, you could have just asked. I wouldn’t have said no.”
“But where’s the fun in that?”
“You’re quite charming, you know that?”
“Oh, am I?”
“Yes, very much so. And quite gorgeous too, if I may be so bold?” He stroked your cheek bone with his thumb.
“You may. I wanted to ask you something?” You wrapped your arms around him.
He wrapped his arms around your waist in turn, “Yes? What is it, dollface?”
You blushed at the old timey term of endearment, “Do you remember what you said to me last night?”
“I said many things to you last night. You’re going to have to be more specific.”
You leaned in close to his ear, “You said, “if you’re still interested in the morning when you’re sober, I’ll give you exactly what you want,” well guess what? I’m still very interested.”
“Are you, now?” A sultry smirk formed on his lips. His hands slid down from your waist to your hips.
“Yes,” you nodded.
He squeezed your hips lightly. “I’m glad we’re on the same page then.”
You let out a little yelp as he lifted you up and carried you over to the bed. His cat immediately ran to hide under the sofa, as if she knew what was about to happen.
He laid you down on the bed, before crawling on top of you.
Alastor leaned in and you expected him to kiss your lips, but instead he started planting kisses up and down your neck.
“You tease!”
“Now, now. Patience is a virtue, my dear,” his breath hot against your skin.
“But I want to kiss you.”
“Oh, don’t worry. You will. Just relax and let Daddy take care of you.”
Fuck that’s hot.
His words made your core heat up even more.
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he praised.
He returned to kissing your neck, nice and slow. The warmth of his mouth mixed with the cold of his glasses made for an interesting sensation. His mouth supple and skillful. He definitely knew what he was doing. He reached a particular place that had you moaning like crazy.
“Ahh…ahh…ahh.”
You had never experienced so much pleasure from something as simple as neck kissing before.
You could feel him smirking against your neck. He began focusing all his attention on that one spot. You ran your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. Kisses slowly turned into gentle sucking, producing a wet sound.
Alastor switched back and forth between kissing and sucking. You bit down on your lip as you let out little mews and moans. You noticed he started sucking down on your neck slightly harder.
Is he giving me a hickey?
He gave one final firm suck before pulling away with a satisfying pop.
After taking a moment to admire not just his handiwork but how absolutely breathtaking you looked, your face flushed and eyes darkened over with lust - which matched his own - and full of desperation, at last his lips finally met your needy ones.
Again the kissing started off slow, a sensual exchange between two tender mouths. Lips moved in sync with each others. Soft moans filled the room. His fingertips teasingly traced over your curves.
You tilted your head to the side, suddenly feeling his warm wet tongue on your bottom lip. He ran his tongue across the shape of your lip, wanting entry. You denied him playfully.
“Oh, so you’re going to be naughty, hmm?”
You didn’t respond, instead just smiling cheekily.
He locked lips with you again but this time, he bit down on your bottom lip and tugged on it a few times, not hard but enough to make you to make gasp.
“Oh Daddy, you have some sharp canines!”
Alastor took advantage of your open mouth, and slid his tongue in. You flicked the tip of his tongue with yours before letting him explore. It tickled slightly when he licked the roof of your mouth. You licked the soft underside of his tongue.
It took you a minute to notice that his sneaky hands found their way under your shirt and were unhooking your bra. You didn’t even have to help him, he got it off of you faster than any other guy you had ever been with. You were practically purring as those big strong hands of his started massaging your sensitive mounds. He groaned at how wonderful your tits felt in his palms. How easily they squished for him.
He continued to stimulate one of your breasts with one hand as he used his other hand to lift up your shirt. You helped him get it off of you. The sudden rush of cold air gave you goosebumps.
His eyes lit up, “You’re beautiful. Every inch of you is absolutely gorgeous, Darlin’.”
Those words were enough to turn you into a blushing mess with butterflies in your stomach.
“Please, Daddy. Just take me,” you begged as you pushed your bosoms together.
“Oh, I will. But please allow me the honor of getting to taste you first, Baby,” he raised an eyebrow seductively.
“Wait, you’ll actually do that?”
“Yes, I bet you taste divine. But of course if you’re not comfortable with it…”
“No I am, it’s just…this would the first time.”
“Oh I see, well then I’ll have to make sure that’s it’s extra enjoyable for you,” he grinned.
Alastor began kissing his way down from your collarbone to your chest, from your chest to your stomach, and from your stomach to the seam of your jean shorts - they were the ones that were high rise and had three buttons. Slowly, he unbuttoned them one by one before undoing the zipper. All the while, he watched as you bit your lip from anticipation.
He smirked, “No panties?”
“I thought it would be a pleasant surprise,” you winked.
“Indeed it was, my little peach,” he rid you of your remaining item of clothing.
He spread your legs open, licking his lips at the sight of your soaking pussy. You let out a little squeak as he lifted up your hips and pulled you closer. You wondered what it was even going to feel like. You had only ever been fingered.
Your thoughts were interrupted when Alastor planted a kiss on your inner thigh, “Are you ready, my dear?”
“Yes,” you nodded.
You lightly grasped his hair as he slowly ran his tongue up and down your labia. It felt so warm. You covered your mouth to try to muffle the amount of moans that were escaping you. He continued with long strokes from your clit to your entrance. You could feel him groaning against your vulva as if you were the best thing he ever tasted. The vibrations only added to the pleasant sensation.
Suddenly, you felt a finger enter you. It reached up deep in your cunt until it found that special place inside of you. He added another one of his nimble fingers, stimulating your sweet spot with a come hither motion.
“Daddy,” you drooled.
You closed your eyes, tears starting to form around your eyes.
“Baby, look at me.”
“No! It feels too good!”
“Please, dear, look at me.”
You opened your eyes and looked at him, his face buried in your pussy.
“Good girl,” he praised, “Also, don’t muffle your adorable noises so much. I quite enjoy them.”
“Ye…yesss, Daddy.”
You gripped onto the sheets, making sure to keep eye contact with him. Your wails of pleasure mixed with the squelching sounds coming from your cunt. The smell of sex filled the air.
Alastor’s attention turned to your clit, flicking it a few times with his tongue. To which you made a noise that you had never made in your entire life. It was not long until you felt that coil tightening in your stomach, your walls fluttering on his fingers.
“…’m close…” you managed to get out.
“Is that so? I better pick up the pace then,” a smug smirk made its way onto his face.
Before you could even ask what that meant, he latched his mouth down on your bundle of nerves, his head bobbing slightly as he sucked. His fingers moved in and out of you faster. Your head fell back and your toes curled as you felt that coil, not just come undone, but snap. You screamed out his name as you gushed all over him. He gladly drank up all the nectar that you gave him, moaning as he savored every last drop.
You laid there for a seconds while coming down from your high, you breath heavy. That was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. It was as if your soul had ascended out of your body.
Alastor gave one final little kiss on your clit, “Mmm, that was absolutely delicious. My compliments to the chef.”
You chuckled lightly, “I’m glad you enjoyed your meal.”
“Meal? That was merely the appetizer,” he smiled, licking your remaining juices of his fingers.
He got up and began to undress. You watched him intently as he unbuttoned his shirt. He was lean and muscular. That with his handsome face, lovely eyes, and gorgeous hair, he was absolute smoke show.
“My, oh my, Daddy, I didn’t know you had a six pack!” You licked your lips, “and look at those guns too. Absolutely scrumptious.”
“Stop, you’re going to make me self conscious,” he joked.
“Please, you have a beautiful body,” you said looking him up and down.
“Not as beautiful as yours,” he replied.
“You always know what to say,” you blushed.
“Well, I am a Communications professor,” he said as he unbuckled his belt.
That’s right, you had almost forgotten that he was a professor, your professor.
Oh well, already made it this far with him. Might as well keep going.
You flipped over onto your stomach, facing him, “Do you mind if I help you with this last part, Daddy?” You reached out, fingering the button of his pants.
“Be my guest, dollface,” he grinned.
You slowly undid the button, before pulling down the zipper. Excitement washed over you as you helped free his hardened member from his boxers. Not only was it big but pretty too.
You took it into your hand, pumping it a few times, “Mmm…Daddy, you have a nice big cock.”
He let out a deep moan as you gently wrapped your lips around the head, letting your tongue run across the tip.
“Ah, as lovely as that feels, my darling,” Alastor took hold of your chin, “I don’t think I can wait much longer to fuck your pretty little pussy.”
His smooth voice, like velvet, sent a shiver through you. He pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva connected your lips to the tip of his dick.
He finished taking off his pants and boxers before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You crawled backwards, lips still locked with his, on the bed until your head reached the pillows. You adjusted your head on the soft pillow until you find the right position.
“Comfortable?” He asked.
“Mhm,” you nodded.
He smiled and brushed your hair out of your face, “Let me know if you need or simply want to stop, alright? Your comfort is my number one priority, my dear.”
You stroked his face, “You’re so sweet. I’ll let you know.”
He lifted your leg and placed on his shoulder before lining himself up with your entrance.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, please fuck me, Daddy.”
You took a deep breath as he started to ease himself into your pussy. Your walls stretched to accommodate his large cock. Little moans escaped your lips. He groaned in satisfaction.
“Fuck…” he hissed, “Your cunt fits me perfectly, Baby. Like you were made to take me.”
You blushed. “Maybe I was…” you mumbled under your breath.
Alastor suddenly reached that special place inside of you, to which you mewed loudly. He smirked and rolled his hips. You reached down to rub your clit, but he beat you to it.
He began to thrust in and out of you, slow and steady, making sure to hit that spot inside you every time. His name kept slipping past your lips, “Alastor…Alastor…oh, Alastor.”
He put his forehead to yours, making sure the only thing you could focus on was him, “Y/n, you sound so pretty,” he moaned before kissing you.
You traced the muscles of his back as you returned his kisses. You carefully removed your leg from his shoulder before wrapping both of your legs around his waist. You wanted him to be as close to you as possible.
He took hold of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours, gently pinning your arms against the pillow, as he positioned himself so that his pubic bone was stimulating your bundle of nerves. You moved your hips in rhythm with his.
As soon as he pulled away, you took the opportunity to plant a few kisses on his Adam’s apple. You were planning on giving him a hickey to match the one he gave you. He moaned, the vibrations tickling your lips. You got your mouth as low as you possibly could, before starting to suck.
“You naughty little thing,” he playfully scolded.
You kissed and sucked his tender skin until you were satisfied that it left a mark.
“What? I’m just returning the favor,” you innocently said.
You let out a yelp as Alastor suddenly picked up the pace. It was then you realized that coil was tightening in stomach again, your spongy walls fluttering on his big cock.
“I’m…close,” you moaned.
“Cum for me, baby, come undone on my cock,” he licked the shell of your ear.
The bed creaked, the lewd sound of slurping mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin, accompanied by the chorus of moans and sighs. Alastor looked into your eyes as you had yet your second orgasm. This time, your eyes rolled back, your mouth agape.
He groaned nonstop as your pussy milked him, coaxing him to climax as well. But he wouldn’t let himself just yet. He fucked you through your high.
“Roll over for me, Darlin’.”
“What?” You asked.
“Please, I want to feel you cum just one more time,” he kissed your forehead.
“Alright,” you rolled over on your stomach.
You had never been taken from behind before.
“Oh, you’re gorgeous from this position too,” he said as he ran his hands down your back.
He paused when he got to your lower back before squeezing your ass, “Cute tattoo,” you could feel him smirking.
You had a little heart tattoo on your left cheek. You blushed, burying your face into the pillow, “Thank you.”
He chuckled before reinserting himself into you, “You’re adorable, you know that?”
He soon found an even rhythm. He planted kisses on your shoulder. You purred as he took one of your tits into his hand, massaging your nipple with his thumb. His other hand found its way on your swollen clit, rubbing circles on it.
“Feels so good, Daddy!” You cried out as you reached behind you, gripping his hair.
“Keep pulling my hair,” he huffed into your ear.
You obeyed and tugged lightly on it as you were reaching your third climax. The coil built up and came undone. This time when you milked him, you could feel him twitching inside of you.
“Fuck. I’m close,” he growled in your ear.
“Cum inside me, Daddy,” you begged.
“Are you sure, dollface?”
“Yeah…it’s fine…I’m on the pill.”
Alastor moaned your name as he filled your cunt with his hot cum.
“So warm,” you moaned, stroking your lower stomach.
He collapsed on top of you, his member softening inside you. Both of you were covered in sweat, faces flushed, panting.
He rolled over next to you, pulling you into his arms. You turned your body so that you could face him.
Alastor smiled and kissed you gently, “You’re…perfect...”
“No…that’s…all you. Mister ‘I value the woman’s pleasure over my own.’ You are a dream come true.”
He laughed, “I’m far from perfect, Sweetheart. I just try to make others happy. Though, I’ll admit the only person happiness I’m interested in is yours now.”
You blushed, “I feel the same. I’m only interested in making you happy.”
“Glad we’re on the same page,” he pulled you even closer to him.
“Alastor?”
“Yes, my dear?”
“Can we do this again sometime?”
“Only if you let me buy you dinner first next time,” he grinned.
“Nothing would make me happier,” you smiled brightly, snuggling up in his chest.
He hummed as he stroked your hair, fully satisfied in every way possible.
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