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#i don't know what the fuck is up with that but i suspect it has something to do with 50's dinner party oneupmanship
pedge-page · 3 days
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Imagine baby Sarah angry with Joel for not giving into her asks and wants like idk candy maybe and sides with reader going behind Joel’s back to ask the exact same thing and then in the middle of the day Joel questions how Sarah got a lollipop and reader says that Sarah told her that Joel said yes but to ask reader as well and they then connect the dots to discover that they’ve been played
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Sarah's Bargain
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Notes: I’ve derailed from this prompt a little because Sarah’s gotta outsmart all of the adults in the room.
- - - -
Sarah and Joel are walking through the gas station mart when she spots the colorful rack of assorted candy. 
"Daddy, can I have one ring pop?"
"No," he responds plainly, counting the twinkies in his hand and figuring out how many he can get before you yell at him.
"Why not."
He grabs two bottles of Pepsi in one hand before heading over to the check out counter. “Because I said so."
She grumbles and follows close behind him. "If I clean my room--"
"You can't bargain with me. I'm not mom. My answer is no."
She thinks about it for a moment. Then smiles. "Ok Daddy, I understand."
Joel is surprised she acquiesced so quickly. She seems to have gotten over the tantrum phase. Maybe he's doing a pretty good job at this parenting thing after all. 
Later on, you take Sarah along with you to go grocery shopping. "Mom.”
"Yes bubba."
"Dad said if I cleaned my room, I could have a ring pop."
You pause, surveying the special deal for pepsi cans. Despite Joel telling you about the suspicious amount of pepsi that’s been disappearing from his stock, you hadn’t touched any. In fact, you had your own stock that you suspect he’s found out and been stealing from. 
“What?”
“A ring pop,” she repeats. “Dad said if if cleaned my room, I could have one.”
 Thats very uncharacteristic of him to bargain with Sarah.
"He did? So what are you coming to me for?"
"Well he said ONLY if you agreed. Said it was OK but to ask mom first to be sure."
Fuck, making me do the hard decision. Joels always the favorite, and if you say no now, then it’s going to make you the mean mom for no reason. You did see she cleaned her room without being told...
You grab the pepsi case, hoping Joel won't scold you for your own hoarders pile.  
You see the innocent batting of her eyes just as you look over to the candy aisle. “Well if Dad said yes..." 
-
Sarah and Joel are sitting at the table as he unwraps his secret stash of pepsi and Twinkie’s away from you. 
"I asked mom for a ring pop and she said yes,” she mentions while coloring her book.
Joel freezes with half the cream custard in his mouth. “I said—“ 
"Its ok! I told her since you had said no, that she didn't need to get me one. I just wanted to see if she would..."
"You trying to set me up against mom?"
"No..." she adds quickly. "I just... thought it would be an interesting experiment.” She smiles softly, before turning to a very mature, saddened tone. “But then I realized it was wrong and I should have listened to you in the first place. So I didn’t take it because I know you said no."
He thinks about it for a moment. Now you’re going to come to him lecturing about why Sarah doesn't get things when she CLEARLY has a good sense of responsibility, going as far to say no to something she clearly wants just to respect him. She's also smart to test both of you, and even when she could have had it, she still refused. 
“Alright. Just cuz I'm proud of ya.” He dusts the power from his fingers and fishes for his wallet. “You’re a smart kid. But I don't want you testing your mom n’ me for the same answer.  And I don't want to get in trouble with her. I'll get you one. Just this once ok?"
She nods solemnly and crosses her heart. “I won’t say anything.”
-
The next day, you hear Joel and Sarah coming in from the garage and you quickly stash your pepsi behind the potted plant. Your daughter gives you a fat kiss on the cheek before running to the living room and turning on the tv.
You and Joel sit at the table. “I saw the can by the way.” He remarks.
You grunt, pulling the aluminum from its hiding spot and proudly sipping it before crinkling it in your hand. “Well I haven’t been stealing from you. I …have my own stash.”
Joel gasps, offended and surprised by your double standards. “And you yell at me n’ my Twinkies!”
"There better not be any f-ing twinkies in this house Joel Miller," you point at him threateningly.
"Nope none Nada. Haven't seen any." he slowly tucks the new plastic back full of them under his legs.
"The two of you talk about Sarah having cleaned her room without being told. 
"Yeah, I ended up getting her the ring pop,” he tells you.
You furrow your brows.
“?… but, I got her the ring pop. She said you told her I would get if it I also approved? I didn’t want to be the mean mom!"
Fuck, Joel knows you get too worked up on trying to be too nice and cater to Sarah... "What? I told her no first. I never said it was up to you. Then she said she asked you and you said yes, but she refused yours, so I got her it instead for being responsible. I told you to stop worrying about being the nice mom!”
You also know Joel's a sucker for marveling Sarah's experimental mind and working on being responsible over getting what she wants. "She did NOT refuse my offer. what are you talking about?"
Tommy comes in moments later, and waves to the two of you through the open door. Sarah runs up to him near the doorway, and he greets her first suspiciously. They do a funky little hand shake, and you catch a glimpse of something silver going into his palm before she retreats to the living room 
"What are you doing here?" Joel asks.
Tommy shrugs. "Uh nothin’ just.."
"Did you just slip her a ring pop??" You ask incredulously. 
He huffs a guilty sigh. "Sarah asked for a ring pop because you guys told her no, so I went to pick one up at the store as long as she didn’t tell either you...."
Fuck. You and Jole BOTH know Tommy's complex about wanting to be Sarah's favorite uncle (despite the fact you keep reminding him he's her  ONLY uncle and he has no competition).
Above all else, Sarah knows these weakness about each of you. You all look over to her as she unwrap a third ring pop, putting all of them on her one hand and switching back and forth sucking on them. There's an open Pepsi can clutched in her other tiny palm that she sips from, with an exceedingly satisfied grin on her face.
- - - -
Taglist:
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best-enemies · 24 days
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I've reached season 5 on my CSI rewatch and I'm a few episodes past "Swap Meet", where a woman is murdered after attending a swing party with other couples from the neighbourhood. Near the end of the episode there's a moment that made me jump from my seat:
(Grissom walks up to Sara and takes the seat next to her. He's holding two cups. He hands her a cup of tea.)
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - BRASS' OFFICE]
Erin Brady: Everybody fantasizes about other people. (She glances at Grissom.)
Even you, Mr. Grissom. A neighbor, a friend ... girl at the office.
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - HALLWAY]
(The door opens. Paul Brady walks out of the hallway. Erin Brady walks out into the hallway. Sara is sitting in the hallway chair watching them. She watches as they meet and kiss.)
(Grissom walks up to Sara and takes the seat next to her. He's holding two culps. He hands her a cup of tea.)
LIKE!!!!!!!
Right after Erin ends her sentence with 'girl at the office', the first time Sara and Grissom meet again, he brings her tea. This might be an innocent interaction but to me it seemed like a nod to this relationship they have where both are into each other, know about the other's feelings, but can't/won't do anything about it (although Sara has kind of given Grissom an ultimatum). I don't know if it was intentional - I'm guessing it is, because I picked it up immediately. I might or might not have squealed in delight.
#csi#gsr#i'm very Normal about them btw i don't think about them 50 times per day or anything#need to talk more about these two here#because im obsessed about them in a Normal way#sara is like. my dream wife. i totally get grissom being in love with her for years and barely holding it together#i would not though#i'm 1000% sure she's bi. but the writers have been cowards so far#also she and i dress THE SAME. yes i love 2000s clothes so what#i could talk about her forever she's everything to me#and grissom. oh grissom. i also get why she's been in love with him forever#i mean what the FUCK went down in san francisco did they hook up and sex was so good it scared them#and now they have to live with that tension and they're scared of crossing that line#nah i'm guessing with these two they just REALLY clicked. like. they were an instant match and they knew it#but grissom didnt want to lose focus on work or whatever and they lived in separate states you know#but oh my god i totally get sara. grissom is such a silver fox. he's like one of the hottest old men i've ever seen in my life#you know what i 100% get tumblr sexualizing old men it's completely valid i'm in this now too#he has this LOOK. whenever he's angry at a suspect. and he looks angrily at them. i'm chewing on my keyboard just remembering it#and his smirks#AND THE WAY HE LOOKS AT SARA#im losing my mind#i love all of gil grissom but seasons 4-5 jesus fucking christ#ok enough with the sexualizing i love him as a character SO MUCH. he's absolutely fantastic#one of the things i love the most about him is that he doesn't judge people. whenever the team is confused about someone#or this persons' lifestyle#he's always trying to understand them and not judge them#like a true scientist he wants to understand the nature of things and people#and he's such a sweetheart i love him so much#like there are so many things i love about him i can't fit them all in the tags. same for sara#they're a perfect match for me
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as a general rule, on average, if americans consistently complain about a food being conceptually weird, gross, and scary, then it probably tastes amazing. or at least inoffensive.
this is because in my experience americans for the most part (give or take a few exceptions by region) think eating literally anything other than beef, chicken, bread, eggs, peanut butter jelly sandwitches, ketchup, and disgusting cloyingly artificial brown sludge soda is insurmountably weird, gross, and scary.
#a lot of people literally refuse to even eat ham or pork#not even for like religious or health reasons#just because they think eating anything but beef and chicken is 'weird and scary and gross'#every time i hear people going on en masse about how 'weird and an acquired taste' something foreign is i go and try it and i'm just like#what the fuck were all of you smoking. where is the unbearable weirdness i am supposed to be experiencing#shoutout to that time i kept hearing about how bizarre a flavor milkis soda is and how intimidating and acquired of a taste#then when i actually try the stuff. it's just fucking peach soda. it's peach soda with a faint tangy yogurtish taste. it makes good floats.#how in the absolute fuck is anything even remotely weird much less gross about this?#unless your concept of what a 'soda' should be is poisoned by a lifetime of the entire soda aisle being filled with nothing but brown sludg#from the same 3 brands that all taste like what would happen if they could distill the concept of diabetes and artificial flavoring syrup#i don't know if other countries have this but there's this weird cultural like mandatory rejection of any 'unusual' food here#way more intense than i've seen from anyone from any other country (though that might just be inexperience with other cultures talking)#people react to the mere suggestion of any food outside a very narrow range with outright disgust and genuine fear and horror#and there's a huge amount of unspoken peer pressure on everyone to also do the same#like you're expected to agree with them and you've breeched some sort of silent social contract if you don't#it's seen as *immoral* almost it feels like#it's difficult to describe unless you've noticed it yourself#americans react to the mere suggestion of eating anything outside of the same 2 meats and handful of fillers the same way#that pearl-clutching aristocrat grandmas react to hearing that people in foreign countries do.. basically anything#it doesnt matter if you're suggesting eating ube cake or suggesting eating live bugs because people will react the same way#everything that's not chicken/beef/ect is as good as bugs to people here#hate this stupid blandass country and how impossible it is to afford any food other than burgers if you're not rich#or blessed with relatives that have any idea how to cook and are at all willing to teach you#cause nother weird thing i've noticed about food culture-or at least wasp food culture-that i haven't seen anywhere else quite the same way#is that if you DO have any relatives that know how to cook then nine times out of ten they will jealously guard their recipes like a dragon#and refuse to share them with anyone#thus taking whatever little cooking knowledge was in the family to their grave#so the opportunity other people usually have for family bonding via passing on recipes? pffft no.#for some reason we seem to actively go out of our way to prevent these things from being passed on#i don't know what the fuck is up with that but i suspect it has something to do with 50's dinner party oneupmanship
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paradife-loft · 1 year
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lmao I keep getting into the Usagi/Seiya plotline since it... genuinely actually works and also manages to highlight Usagi/Mamoru well (in a way they... aren't great at doing when they're actually both in the same room, oops)
and then someone always barges in BUT USAGIIII DON'T YOU ALREADY HAVE A SPECIAL SOMEONE??????!!!!!! like the world's most unnecessary Sailor Kool-Aid Man
Usagi's got two hands and genuine feelings for both of them, y'all, leave her alone
#in other news this season feels like it has too many characters and not enough good direction on what to do with them#the outer senshi despite going on about WE GOTTA DEFEND YOU FROM EXTERNAL THREATS are...... fighting with the starlights#instead of the Literal Definite Threats From Outside the Solar System?#like yes I get that the starlights are kind of sketchy and/or assholes but. Mouse/Siren/Crow/Nyanko are Right There. priorities guys#Saturn just kind of wandered off and disappeared after the Nehelenia business...?#Chibichibi was structurally set up to mirror Chibiusa's position in the family but so far has just been a walking plot device#and not well integrated into the rest of the cast or show#partially I suspect they spent too long on the ''nobody knows who the others are!!!!'' dramatic irony and it's thrown the pacing off#and also. unfortunately. galaxia is boring#(this makes me feel broadly vindicated in my preference for the villains' anime backstories that are more personalized)#(compared to the manga's ''they're all incarnations of chaos'' thing or w/e it is? bc chaos....... is just kind of dull)#.......anyway contemplating how I'd patch stuff up#I think I'd shift it around so HaruMichi&tc are the ones primarily fighting the animamates w/ Usagi#& the inner senshi are trying to figure out what the deal is w the starlights (who they don't especially love)#something something disillusionment as they see how the 3 lights' personas are not especially nice people AND then also connect them#to these three fairly ruthless sailor senshi?#mixing around the social groupings also reinforces Usagi's loneliness after Mamoru gets put on a bus#and doing a little more with ChibiChibi as a parallel to Chibiusa - like there's a thing with the photo changing to leave out Chibiusa yes?#so bringing in more of that comparison (and having some unnerving creepy stuff of other people starting to not remember Chibiusa?) -#emphasizes the idea of ''fuck something's up something's happened to Mamoru that's affecting the future'' as a call-back#to earlier in the season when Nehelenia almost trapped him and made Chibiusa fade#(.....and if you REALLY must then Usagi can have Conflict Feelings about her little love triangle via attributing#Chibiusa's disappearance to the wrong cause)#..........this is way too long of a tag rant what am I doing with my life#James liveblogs television
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I still get tripped out when I look in a pack of cigarettes and the label is some kind of elongated license plate telling me some fucked up story sometimes.
#me one day oh got her vag has teeth#then it is like no you fucking idiot🙄#my tree kin pee peck#well in short it's magic#me: that both makes compleste sense and none whatsoever#whats over what#what you mean this fucking rather space constraining meat here I'm fucking struggling and you have flund something better than ceiling#maybe she won't notice...ok maybe nobody else will notice#*shrugs* you know what fuck it she looks full of fear and anticipation of inevitability#jaw open slightly just staring barely sparing me a have my God half keeping secrets#I don't know how to tell you this but I don't usually do this with other girls but I can't help myself with you#in the dental office like Voldemort Unicorn! come hither I can smell you on high I know it's you#if my section of the east or night speaks though shall hear what I am saying girl you is a fire hydrant wake up#another couple seconds and I would begin to suspect the little death (French here alright) had made her lose control#and she was on her new favorite drug#me: mad? her; like I am an oversized blow pop she needed now#all blinking and smiling at me: ok I guess she isn't mad at me good....you sure....I mean ... ok just checking#gives me the green light to proceed on our weird diacussions#I am just absently like yeah I will corrupt her and make her my personal fucktoy thar will be convinced it wasn't her idea#one thing I know if you were around I wanted her#girl sorting through your closet professionally who are you and why did I get dragged snap in here by another girl#Snap Dragon.....no shit yo#spaced out drag (so fuckingsexy mmmm)#absent snap what did I just smoke oh blows yup silly me#looks up#me: 🤤#so let me pretend you are a boo boo and I am WT#oh yeah look at that dancer ass ï#I suppose my ass has always been adored by you#poopie time sure what's you eating oh it don't melt like butter
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Heat Intolerance
This disability pride month I'd like to talk about heat intolerance. Because honestly although it's not the first health issue that presented symptoms in my life. It was the first time I was like "I don't think my body works right".
And honestly given disability pride month is during one of the hottest months in the year. It seems fitting. Especially because there's a lot of disabilities and medications that cause it.
What is heat intolerance?
Simply speaking it's the inability for the body to regulate it's temperatures especially in hot settings to cool itself down.
Why is awareness important?
Because gaslighting people or worse not providing them a place to cool down just because you "feel fine" is extremely fucking dangerous.
What are the medicines that can cause heat intolerance?
Antihistamines (Allergy medications) . Decongestants (Sudafed or any medication that has the D at the end of it). Stimulants (ADHD medications. Steroids. Caffeine.) Beta-blockers (blood pressure medications). Overactive bladder treatment. Psychiatric medications (including but not limited to medications for depression and anxiety). Pain relievers. Antibiotics.
What medical conditions can cause heat intolerance?
EDS (Elhers-Danlos syndrome). Autism. ADHD. Migraines. Brain/spinal-cord injury. Sensory processing disorder. Chronic fatigue syndrome. Endocrin problems. POTS. Menopause. Hypothyroidism. Diabetes. Heart Disease. Multiple sclerosis. Mental health disorders.
What should I do if I suspect I have heat intolerance?
Reduce time outside during hot months. Keep your electrolytes up. Drink plenty of water. Stay out of the sun whenever possible if outside. Be aware of the symptoms of heat exhaustion and heat stroke.
Clothes that are best worn for heat intolerance. Loose lightweight breathable fabrics. Natural fibers. Long sleeves that protect from sunburn as sunburns will increase your risk. Light clothes that reflect light. Wide brimmed hats that shade the face and neck.
Cool. So what are those symptoms I'm supposed you be looking for?
Headaches. Excessive fatigue. Mood changes. Muscle cramping or weakness. Nausea/ vomiting. Rapid heartbeat. Excessive sweating or not sweating at all.
When should I do to the doctor?
If you suspect you have heat intolerance you can go to your PCP to discuss what medications you may be on and what you can do about it. Otherwise, please go to the emergency room if you have symptoms of heat stroke.
This is good information and all but why are you making this post?
To raise awareness. Not just for the people that have it but weren't aware of what it was called. But for all of the idiots that tried to gaslight me when I was in school because I was like "I don't think this is normal. Every time we do our mile run outside I vomit all over the place but other kids aren't doing that."
Also because people always blame me for over heating if I wear long sleeves or pants. I always like to take notes from what people in the middle east wear because they literally live in the excessive heat and spend long hours in the excessive heat. Often in clothing that covers most of their body. They've gotta know what they're doing, right?
I have some type of xenophobic comment about why people from the middle east cover up
Shut the fuck up 😊
-fae
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theemporium · 4 months
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[3k] a f1 gossip page gets insider knowledge of what might be the paddock's best kept secret. in fact, it is so well kept that even the paddock don't know who it is about (aka a wee crack fic i couldn't get out of my head ft the papaya bunch).
series masterlist
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It was media day at the Barcelona Grand Prix when the rumours began.
Somewhere between team media duties and the official conferences, a group had found themselves lounging in the shared canteen. It was a neutral zone, the journalists weren’t allowed inside and it was just a place for most of the drivers to relax with their family and friends outside of the garages and motorhomes. 
You were sat in the seat next to Lando, his arm sprawled over the back of your chair and his thigh pressing against yours with how close he was sitting beside you. He was looking over your shoulder, a giddy smile on his face as you went through a few of the shots he had taken on his camera that morning—including an obscene amount of ‘candid’ shots that you made him swear not to post anywhere, despite his reassurances you looked gorgeous. 
It was a startled laugh from Daniel that caught everyone’s attention.
“There’s no fucking way!” Max laughed as he gaped at Daniel’s phone screen, shaking his head as he did. “Where the fuck do they get this from?!” 
Daniel only laughed harder. 
It took a few minutes before the Aussie finally turned his screen around and display the tweet for everyone to see. It took a few more minutes of snooping to find the article that followed the bizarre rumour. 
“Alright, who’s gonna fess up?” Lando joked as his eyes glanced over all the drivers currently sprawled across the various tables. “My bet is on Carlos. He seems like the kinda guy to have a secret kid.”
“Shut up,” Carlos scoffed before he nodded to the boy on his right. “It would obviously be Charles.”
The Monegasque spluttered out a laugh, his cheeks heating up. “It’s not me!”
“That’s what someone who has a secret kid would say,” Max retorted, seeming to enjoy the way the Ferrari driver’s face began to match the colour of his shirt. “You can tell us the truth about Charlie Junior.”
“First of all, I would never name my child that,” Charles said with his nose scrunched up in displeasure. “And I wouldn’t hide my children. I would be proud of them.”
“They could be hiding the children for privacy's sake. A paddock isn't exactly the best place for a child to be roaming around. Or the safest,” another voice spoke up and everyone’s eyes fell to the younger Aussie sitting across the table from you. Oscar squirmed a little under the sudden attention. “What?”
“You wanna tell us something, mate?” Lando questioned, a grin growing on his face.
Oscar’s cheeks burned red. “I-It’s not about me!” 
“You caught him,” Logan laughed as he playfully knocked his shoulder against his friend’s. “He has three kids back in Australia. Our lil’ Oscie is a father.”
Oscar frowned. “Don’t ever call me that again.”
“I’m offended you didn’t tell us,” you joked as you knocked your foot against his shin under the table. “I expected to be the godmother of one of your kids.”
“You would be if I had any,” Oscar quickly countered, making you snort in response. 
“Well, we have some clues,” Daniel commented as he leaned back in his chair, looking far too amused with the situation. “Time to start going through possible suspects.” 
“Maybe you’re trying to throw us off your scent,” you joked.
“Shhh, sweetheart, they can’t know about our secret family just yet,” the Aussie teased as he sent a wink your way.
You felt an arm tighten around you and turned to see Lando glaring—albeit, jokingly—towards his former teammate. “Back off, Ricciardo, if anyone is gonna have a secret family with her, it’s gonna be me.” 
Daniel laughed. “Please, the two of you couldn’t keep a secret from us if you tried!”
“Uh, we so could,” you retorted.
“You two couldn’t even keep Oscar’s surprise birthday party a secret and it was your idea,” Logan pointed out, raising his hands in mock surrender when your head snapped around to look at him. 
“We got excited!” You defended. 
“And you don’t think you would be excited about a secret family?” Oscar countered. 
“I think we could hide a secret pretty damn well if we tried,” you replied with a shrug as you leaned further back into your boyfriend’s embrace.
“Especially as something as serious as a secret family,” Lando added with a nod.
“Who cares?” Max eventually said with a laugh. “The rumour is a load of bullshit anyways. There’s no way anyone is going to believe it.”
As it would turn out, the whole world believed the rumours. The rest of the race weekend was haunted by the ‘new’ piece of gossip. The paddock was full of whispers of ‘who?’, the journalists thought they were being sly as they snuck in a few questions to catch the drivers off guard, and hundreds of fan theories took over every social media platform as the weekend commenced.
Truthfully, you thought it would be one of those rumours that dragged on for a bit as a joke but died down by the next weekend. 
You were very wrong.
...
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You didn’t realise how wrong you were until the Austrian Grand Prix came about the following weekend. 
With both McLaren drivers wrapped up in some nonsense challenge video the media team had set them up for, you had made your way towards the Williams garage to spend your Thursday afternoon with them instead. 
There was a cosy spot in the garage where you found yourself sat with Logan and Alex as the team buzzed around them, whispers and talks of the car’s potential that weekend. You were laying back in your seat, your feet thrown over Logan’s lap as you chatted away to Alex when the American caught both of your attention.
“There’s two!”
Logan lifted his head to find two matching confused expressions staring right back at him.
“There’s two,” he repeated as he turned his phone around, a single tweet sprawled over his screen with an all too familiar username on display. “Two kids! A driver is hiding two kids!”
You snorted. “You have got to be shitting me. One rumoured kid wasn’t enough so they added another?” 
“This driver has certainly been busy,” Alex mused as he took Logan’s outstretched phone, beginning to scroll through the never-ending comments under the tweet. “I guess the long term girlfriend thing does kinda narrow it down.” 
You raised your brows. “Don’t tell me you think it’s real.” 
“I still have my bets on Oscar,” Logan commented with a grin, his eyes crinkling in the way you knew they did before the boy laughed. “He’s a dodgy guy. I bet he’s Formula One’s own Hannah Montana with a whole double life.” 
“And, what? We are a part of his famous life?” You questioned. 
“It would make sense,” Alex supplied with a shrug. “He could have a normal family back home in Australia and no one would even know.”
You rolled your eyes. “Alex, don’t encourage him.”
“Hey,” Logan frowned.
“If it turns out to be true, you wouldn’t be upset that your best friend hid something like that from you?” You retorted, watching as the boy’s face slowly fell. 
Alex snorted. 
“I need to go talk to….someone about…something,” Logan said vaguely before he quickly stood up, knocking your feet off his lap and rushing out the garage with a serious look on his face. 
“Logan!” You called after him, laughing as you did so but it was a hopeless endeavour. He was a man on a mission and you knew nothing would stop him. “God, I should go before he ambushes the McLaren motorhome.” 
“Life as a parent, huh?” Alex joked, nudging your shoulder and snickering when you rolled your eyes. 
“Who would have thought I would end up adopting an American of all people?” You joked back before standing up. “Time to go stop my eagle son from throttling my kangaroo son.” 
Alex flashed you a smile. “Motherhood suits you.” 
“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes. 
And little did you realise there was a certain pair of ears listening in to your playful conversation with the Williams driver, already drafting up a message before you left for the bright orange building a few garages down. 
...
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It was odd for you and Lando to find any alone time during a race weekend and it was mostly due to the two rookie drivers you had somehow adopted. 
It started off as a comfort thing at first. Lando knew what it was like to be young and new to the sport. He knew that even if he was coming in with friends, it still felt daunting. It was the reason he seemed to take Oscar under his wings after the Bahrain race weekend, despite the boy’s initial awkwardness. 
It had been you who gravitated towards Logan. Your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend helping out his younger teammate, but it completely shattered when you were making your way towards the McLaren garage and spotted a certain blond rookie hidden between motorhomes. He almost looked as though he was trying to make himself seem as small as possible. 
Lando didn’t question it when you started to venture to the Williams garages in between practices and media duties. He saw the look in your eyes, the small spark that showed your determination. He knew your kindness knew no limits and he would never even try to stop you. 
Neither of you realised you were signing up for the roles of the 2023 rookies’ grid parents until Logan and Oscar had sauntered into Lando’s driver room and all but settled themselves between you both on the Thursday of the Baku Grand Prix. 
You didn’t mind it, really. Race weekends tended to be hectic and chaotic on their own, so it was rare that you and Lando would spend much time alone. Beyond the exasperated sighs and joking remarks, neither of you minded when Oscar would lay his head on your laps after a gruelling interview or when Logan would ramble about some American custom he swears all three of you would enjoy. 
It was odd not being the youngest ones on the grid anymore, but there was also something so comforting in knowing you were a safe haven for these two boys in the paddock—and sometimes, even off the track. 
So honestly, it was an utter fucking shock that you and Lando found yourselves alone with time to kill in his driver’s room, especially with it being the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend. 
Neither of you questioned your luck for very long before you found yourself straddling your boyfriend, knees on either side of his hips and ass firmly planted on his lap. His hands were shamelessly groping your ass. Your hands were tangled in his curls, tugging a little harsher than usual just to hear his little whimpers in between kisses. It was shameless and sloppy and a little more than either of you intended—but you didn’t have a single issue with it. 
“Shit,” Lando moaned, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual when your lips met his neck. “I fuckin’ missed this.”
“Yeah?” You murmured against his skin, your tongue dancing along a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. “I missed hearing how pretty you sound.”
“You can’t say stuff like that,” Lando grumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer, as he pressed his body against yours. 
“But it makes you blush and you look so cute when you blush,” you teased as you lifted your head, admiring the pink tint to his cheeks. “My pretty boy.”
“You’re a tease,” Lando muttered as he sat up on the couch, as he pulled you closer so he could press his lips against yours again. 
“You love it,” you retorted, the words mumbled in between kisses. 
“So fucking much,” he grinned into the kiss, his hands wandering down your thighs before slowly moving back up to your ass. 
In fact, it had been so long since you and Lando got a chance to utilise your time alone in the paddock that you forgot the first rule of making out like horny teens on the small couch—lock the fucking door.
“HOW COULD YOU—OH MY GOD, MY EYES!” 
“GROSS! WE DID NOT NEED TO SEE BABY NUMBER THREE BEING MADE!”
If it weren’t for the tight hold Lando had on you, you would have been flat on your ass when Logan and Oscar stormed into the room. You stared at the boys in shock, your cheeks heating up as the mortification of the situation washed over all four of you. 
You quickly moved yourself off Lando’s lap, instead sitting on the couch beside him as you stared at the two rookies who currently had their hands over each other’s eyes. 
“Have you ever heard of knocking?!” Lando sighed.
“Have you ever heard of a door lock?” Oscar retorted.
“Touche,” he muttered back with a nod. 
“You know you can look now,” you told the boys, a little amused with their theatrics. “We aren’t naked.”
Logan hesitated. “Promise?”
“Promise.” 
Both boys slowly dropped their hands and, truthfully, you were expecting for them to instantly break out into whatever excited ramble they had come to tell you both. It wasn’t unusual for them to do as much, to want to share something with you and Lando that amazed them but didn’t want to admit to anybody else in fear of seeming like…well, rookies. They knew you and Lando would never judge their excitement to the world of Formula One and all the little quirks they were discovering.
Except, there was no excited storytelling or massive grins. Instead, both boys stood in front of you with frowns on their faces and their hands on their hips. 
Lando’s brows furrowed together. “What? What happened?”
“Why did you two not tell us we are older brothers?” Logan asked bluntly. 
You blinked. “Huh?” 
“Why did you not tell us we are older brothers?” This time it was Oscar who spoke up. “Why are you gatekeeping our little brothers from us?” 
Lando frowned. “Is this a joke? Is that a punchline? Am I being stupid right now?” 
“We get the others on the grid but us? This is a new level of betrayal,” Logan said with a completely serious look on his face. 
You shook your head, utterly baffled by the two boys. “What the fuck are you guys on about?” 
“You have been hiding a secret family from us! You are the ones the tweets are talking about!” Oscar said as he reached for his phone, turning the screen around so you both could see the latest article. 
“WHAT?!”
“You have been keeping a secret from us. Families don’t keep secrets!” Logan accused, his eyes narrowed slightly. “If we even count as your family now.”
You gaped at them. “You seriously think that article is about us?” 
“There’s proof!” Oscar retorted.
“What fucking proof?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowed together in confusion. “How can there be proof for a family that doesn’t exist?” 
As it would turn out, the informant that had been feeding the gossip page the whole narrative had been also secretly recording conversations they had heard around the paddock. Along with the article, a series of 'leaked' audios were also released and they were, in fact, yours and Lando’s voice. 
This person had managed to record countless conversations you shared with Lando and even some other drivers—even the conversation you had with Alex the previous weekend in the Williams garage.
“Remember we have dinner with the boys tonight. Our reservations are at six.” 
“Did you remind them to put sunscreen on before they went out? I don’t want them to burn.” 
“Who knew being a parent was so hard, huh?”
“Your son is bullying my son for his accent again. Make him stop or you’re both getting grounded.”
“Well, he definitely takes after you!” 
Random lines of conversations taken completely out of context and, truthfully, you could understand why Twitter was going crazy. It seemed undoubtable that you and Lando were talking about your kids, it sounded like you truly were two parents discussing your children—if it weren’t for one large and missing piece of information.
“We were talking about you two, dumbasses!”
Both boys stared at you, blinking a few times. “Huh?”
“We are talking about the both of you in every single one of those clips,” you told them and you couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. “There is no secret family—just you two.” 
“Oh,” Oscar murmured. 
“But—oh,” Logan muttered a few seconds later.
“So this whole rumour started because somebody thought we were talking about actual kids,” Lando noted before snorting. “Fucking hell.” 
“Everyone thinks you’re a dad,” you remarked with a laugh. “The boy who has one piece of tupperware that’s hanging on for dear life.”
Lando grinned back. “Well, I may not be a dad but I am a—”
“If you call yourself daddy, I am breaking up with you.”
Lando only laughed harder. 
“So…you don’t have secret siblings you’re hiding from us?” Logan piped up, a shy smile on his face.
You shook your head.
“Oh thank god,” he breathed out, pressing a hand on his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t betray us like that! We would obviously be the first ones you tell, right?” There was a pause. “Right?”
“Well, we walked in on them almost conceiving a child,” Oscar pointed out with a shrug before his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Please don’t conceive our little sibling in front of us.”
“You were the ones that stormed in on us,” Lando retorted.
“Still.”
“Well, consider this your warning to get out in the next thirty seconds, otherwise you’re gonna see something that will really scar you—”
Your cheeks burned. “Lando!”
“What?” Lando flashed you a cheeky grin. “If they are gonna make up rumours about me being a dad, I may as well start practising for the real deal.”
You rolled your eyes.
...
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liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 354,762 others
landonorris does this mean i officially get the dilf status?
view all 15,866 comments
user aww cute!
user WAIT THIS IS WHO THE RUMOUR WAS ABOUT
user lando needs to pull a carlisle cullen and adopt me into the family
yourusername in my humble opinion, i think dilf suits you perfectly ;)
oscarpiastri ew
yourusername you're too young to be on instagram
logansargeant and you are too old to sexting on instagram
yourusername you're grounded
user I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS
user okay but the photos are actually so cute wtf
user THEY BECAME GRID PARENTS INSTEAD OF ACTUAL PARENTS
maxverstappen1 they had to start somewhere
danielricciardo i'm just happy the safe sex talk we gave lando actually worked. got worried for a second
yourusername you were just scared you would become a grid grandpa
danielricciardo GRANDPA???
user nothing will ever beat this rumour
user THE FACT PEOPLE ACTUALLY THOUGHT HE HAD A KID
user TWO KIDS
user FAMILY JPEG ACCOUNT WHEN
landonorris 👀👀👀
.
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he-calls-me-kitten · 5 months
Text
Dirty Dozen (ft. +2)
GN! MC x Pervert! OM Characters
(Cause y'all seemed to love the first one omg. Also TW: I made everyone wayy more sleazy and nasty than before so read at your own risk. MInors DNI)
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Pervert! Mammon who likes to ask you for something specifically when your hands are full. "MC, lend me a few Grimm could ya?" He asks when you're in the middle of cooking.
"My hands are covered in cake batter, just take some from my back pocket."
"Are you sure it's there? Let me check both pockets." He isn't so much searching for coins as much as he's feeling and practically groping your ass. Seriously you start to wonder how it's taking him 20 minutes to find something that's right there.
Pervert! Solomon who keeps his room colder than usual when you come over for magic lessons.
"Is it too cold for you MC? I apologise, I kept it this way because some of the potions have bad reactions to heat but if you'd like-"
"I'm absolutely fine, Solomon. You worry about me too much." You smile at him reassuringly, not noticing how his eyes are so eagerly trained at your nipples perking up through your thin t-shirt.
Boner Bonus points if you allow him to hug you for some warmth. His fingers will definitely brush against your chest more than once.
Pervert! Beel who seems to make a mess whenever he's trying to help you in the kitchen. "I'm so sorry, MC. I didn't mean to spill it on your hands!"
"It's okay Beel, it's just some cream and syrup. I can just wash it off right away."
"But it's such a waste. Please allow me." He starts to thoroughly lick your fingers and you shake your head and let him knowing his fixations on food.
But he can't help it - you taste so good. He secretly wonders what you might taste like down there, drooling at the thought.
Pervert! Levi who has taken to sitting on pillows Japanese style while gaming and offers you the same. Sure enough you don't even suspect an ulterior motive.
"Did you get inspired by some human world anime again? Careful though - your legs and butt will start to cramp after a while."
"MC you're too gracious! Caring so much for an otaku like me!"
After you leave, he promptly takes the pillow you were sitting on and puts it in his bathtub. He's going to sleep on it ofc. Your scent on it helps him jerk off better.
Pervert! Belphie who now asks you to rub his belly till he falls asleep. "What's so funny?" He asks as you giggle at his request.
"Since when do you need help falling asleep?"
"I care about the quality of my sleep. And I sleep better this way."
Fortunately you believe him and don't suspect that it's because it's the closest he can get you to fondling his dick. He has such a difficult time holding in his moans and hard ons, every time your hands go even a bit lower than usual.
Pervert! Barbatos who got into sewing clothes as a hobby and specifically likes making them for you now. But you never understand why he needs to take same measurements over and over again.
"Oh? This is a different kind of design, MC. So the measurements will vary from before."
"Always making new things aren't you? You never fail to suprise Barbatos." You smile at him admiring.
The tightening of the tape around your chest and crotch are subtle. He can hardly keep it together when you praise him after all. But he has to if he wants to skim his hands over your body like this again.
Pervert! Diavolo who takes you on such long drives that you always doze off in the front seat, waking up apologetic for missing so much of the journey.
"Hahaha, it's okay, MC. We've been on this same road lots of times. I assure you, you didn't miss anything. And I like that you feel safe to sleep in my presence."
"But still, I'm so sorry, it feels disrespectful..." You apologize, not even knowing how hard he is in his pants right now.
Afterall, he can keep squeezing your beautiful thighs, maybe let his hands wander between them and imagine himself fucking you in the back seat as much as he wants, when you're asleep.
Pervert! Simeon who will have noone except you as his muse for art classes. And the themes just keep getting more erotic each time.
"Are you sure you're okay with this, MC? You don't have to do it if you're not comfortable-"
"Nonsense, Simeon. I feel super comfortable if it's you. You're a true artist after all." You say as you lay on his bed wrapped up only in bedsheets, exposing your entire back and legs.
If only you knew, this angel has thoughts dirtier than most demons. How he's practically fucking you with his eyes. How he's definitely going to jerk off into those bedsheets, moaning your name.
Pervert! Satan who loves teaching you things - standing right behind you, guiding your hands to make latte-art, or trying a new style of painting.
"That's it, nice and slow. Look how much you've improved, MC." He beams at the cute kitty in the coffee cup.
"All thanks to you, Satan. I can't wait to learn more from you." You smile at him earnestly.
He almost feels guilty for tricking you this way, but the way your hands feel in his, and your ass feels against his groin is so addicting. One of these days, he wishes could teach you to be on all fours and take his length in your pretty little mouth.
Pervert! Asmo who loves keeping your eyes on him and noone else. From elaborate performances to petty staring contests, he cannot have enough of your gaze.
"Oh you're turning red in the face, Asmo. Did I manage to flutter the heart of the Avatar of Lust?" You lean forward smiling.
"You're my only weakness after all, MC. It's your fault for making me this way." He almost moans.
You laugh and mock apologize at his antics but you don't know he's been grinding like an animal on his seat, and creamed his pants under your innocent gaze. Your undivided attention just turns him on so much.
Pervert! Lucifer who makes his desires too obvious sometimes. He'll regret it in the morning and take you to dinner to apologize but not until he's already done something dirty.
"Lucifer, it's 2 am. You need to throw away that coffee and sleep." You're practically dragging him to bed.
"Fine. I'll go sleep if you'll stay in my room tonight." He says knowing you'll comply. You care too much for your own good. He's not even going to let you sleep on the couch, no you have to stay wrapped up in his arms.
You might wake upto him groaning your name in his sleep and you might mistake it for a nightmare - not knowing how he's balls deep inside you in his dreams.
Pervert! Thirteen who likes how excited you get over her newest inventions and keeps making more things to call you over.
"And this little baby and can throw pie at people's faces without ever missing. Guaranteed headshot." She smiles proud.
"This would be so useful in a cafeteria food fight and then get banned right after its glory. But I so wanna use it!" You whine.
She loves how much you appreciate her inventions. She is secretly working on a 'pleasure' device scented like her to give you - she hopes you'll like it just as much.
Pervert! Mephisto who is actually taken aback by your duality. You're such a mischievous little imp usually but turn so well-mannered in front of Diavolo's esteemed guests.
"So even you can be prim and proper sometimes? If only you could maintain this on the daily." He huffs.
You laugh and mock-bow in front of him. "Of course, anything for you my dearest lord. Would you like to dance with this proper human while you can?"
He blushes at the sudden offer. Why you little- how dare you tempt him like this. You can't complain about him gripping you somewhere improper or too tight. You deserve this for your attitude.
Pervert! Raphael who is still navigating new feelings of lust he's never felt before he met you. Why his heart skips every time you fall asleep on his shoulder or why he felt a sudden warmth at the pit of his stomach feeling you breath so softly into his neck.
"Thank you for helping me tidy the classroom, MC. I didn't even know where the cleaning supplies were."
"That's alright. It's more fun with two people anyway and wait Raphael there's a bucket over the-" The fresh bucket of water already spilled splashing all over both of you.
You immediately fetched a towel to help him dry up but he couldn't stop staring at you instead. With the uniform sticking to your body like and the water glistening on your exposed skin - why was he so enthralled? Why does he feel a strange pulsing between his legs as you hover over him?
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evilminji · 2 months
Text
The more I learn about John Constantine? The more I am certain you COULD just... dump Danny on him.
Like... literally.
Full on, sack of unconscious potatoes, "here ya go, deal with it, here's an unconscious royal teenager!", Dumped in his arms/lap at some shitty hole in the wall bar, by Suspicious Supernatural Forces, DUMPED on him. Like? Yep. It's a Tuesday. Guess he's NOT getting to finish this beer.
And you know what?
Knowing the crowd Danny runs with? They'd at least... SORTA try and explain what's happening? Instead of play the fun ol "HOT POTATO! Think fast, Constantine! Figure it out!" And run shpeal that he normally deals with. Thoughtful, really.
Don't get him wrong. It's still BULLSHIT. But at least he has a vague idea of WHY he's holding an unconscious, heavily bleeding, half-divine-but-not-really half human, teenager.
Fuckers left a few sticky notes.
THANKS.
He just LOVES patching up actively radioactive wounds while trying to translate... what is this? Mesopotamian? Who writes out their emojis in Mesopotamian?! "Smiling face emotional picture" my ASS. Still...
Kid in way over their head, hunted by damn never everyone for trying to do the right thing, AND grappling with their recent lose of a decent chunk of their own humanity? Oh and now he's KING of a whole spankin new Realm!
Fuck "Realms". Nothing ever good comes out of "Realms".
And APPARENTLY? His VIP returning customers spot under the Bus has been reserved! Because he's the kid's "Gaurdian". Why? So the nice Goverment stooges in suits will come knocking on HIS door first, of course.
......he'd be more pissed about that one if he wasn't REAL interested in what those bastards had to say for themselves. Meddling with forces they shouldn't be touching. Provoking God only knows what. He fucking KNEW those storms weren't natural.
Just? John getting handed a Suspect Youth. Press X for doubt and Sus. Okay... then give him back. No! Fuck you, says local Laughing Magician, I don't trust you EITHER.
Danny wakes up to the... VERY? Ngl? Intense(tm) stare down of... holy shit, are you an Actual Angel? (Yes. He is. Better hope you're not secretly evil or he's gonna bring The Smiting) Then the world's ACTUAL greatest Detective, who is a chimpanzee, offers him expertly made tea and the cheap take-out John brought with him.
He is in Space.
It's still not the weirdest morning he's ever had. But it's getting there.
@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull
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feyascorner · 4 months
Text
jealousy looks good on you
summary. Astarion realizes you're jealous after a night out at the tavern where he must gather information from another. And him being him, teasing ensues.
warnings. fluff, idk just two idiots doing idiotic things, Tav here is good oriented, sorry to evil tav players,,,
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. I love morons in love,,
You were not jealous. Especially not of that damned elf practically hanging off from his arm.
You'd encountered devils, walking brains, even the greatest of beasts during your adventures, yet not once have you felt nothing but utter annoyance. Like an obnoxious fly circling your head insistently no matter how much you swatted at it.
You'd never considered yourself possessive of your dearest companion. Sure, you were protective of him at times, but so were you with the rest of your group, especially knowing what each person had gone through in their lives. And while being lovers might've given an extra kick to that boundary, by no means were you excessively watching him like a hawk.
But now here you were, not watching him, but her.
Information, you remind yourself. You'd nearly forgotten why he was even tolerating her behavior in the first place, because even if he was flirtacious by nature, his tendencies narrowed down towards only you after your conversation at Moonrise. You knew he dreaded this as much as you, but the information that woman had was a must—and Astarion had insisted he could help out.
You were sincerely regretting even entertaining the idea now.
She has her chest pressed flush to the toned muscles of his arm, making sure he’s aware of what qualities she has to offer. With a bat of her lashes, she lets out a shrill laughter when he mumbles something, playfully hitting his chest as if it's the funniest thing in the world.
You’ll show her something really fucking funny at this rate—
Patience, you remind yourself. Breathe. In and out. This is unlike the qualities of a hero trying to save the city. Shooting an arrow at the woman would do nothing but cause panic. Why did you even want to get so violent in the first place? A little minor bump in the road shouldn't make you this angry, should it?
You seriously don't want to watch anymore—especially when he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear and she lets out that rage-inducing giggle again—so you down the rest of your alcohol and run a hand down your face.
You don't notice his eyes glancing at you every few moments, too busy calming your nerves.
A few minutes later, you hear the scrape of his chair pushing back and a rush of relief floods you when you see him stand, face content in a way that tells you the mission was successful. You thank the Gods above because any more of this and you certainly would've committed some sort of crime-
The woman takes his hand, shaking her head before giving him a sly smile. The breaths you took earlier seem to have no effect the second she motions towards the door, her fingers still wrapped around his hand like a death sentence.
You should trust him, you think.
He's had more experience in this than anyone else.
You can't see his expression, but the second you see hers drop, you're suddenly moving across the entire tavern. He whips around when he hears your steps and the relief on his face almost calms you. Almost.
“Hello, dear,” you accentuate. And though your eyes are trained on his, you're more focused on the woman from your side view. “Ready to leave? Sorry I had to catch up with a friend earlier.”
He raises a brow for a moment, and you suspect it’s because you were never supposed to even be in the plan. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze and look away, embarrassed to have let your emotions alter the mission so much—but he seems more than pleased. In fact, the bastard grins.
“Yes, my love,” he snickers, snatching his arm away from the woman and looping the other around the waist. “Let us hurry. I cannot stand another moment being unable to ravage you under such—prying eyes.”
Somehow, your face gets hotter.
Before the woman can respond (though you doubt she even wanted to), he's leading you out the tavern into the cold air of the streets for a much needed breather on your part. You're almost certain you won't be going to that tavern for a while.
“‘My dear’?” he mimics, his lips stretching wider. “I’d believed I was the one with pet names in our relationship. You'd seemed quite adamant on calling me by my given name after all. Had a change of heart?”
Your voice is a mumble as you retort. “Must be the alcohol.”
“Really? Because if I didn't know any better, and I do,” he stops the two of you around the corner of the building in an isolated spot, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’d think you were jealous back there, darling.”
“I was just worried about you,” you blurt in a hurry. “Otherwise I wouldn't have butt in and—”
“Oh, my sweet sweet love,” he laughs. “I could feel you glaring from across the building. And I'm sure I could've sworn to see you slam your goblet a few times. No need to be ashamed. Jealousy is quite normal, and I'm more than flattered.”
“I’m not—” you begin, but her face flashes in your mind again. The way she'd touched his arms, his chest, and you knew she'd never know him the way you do. But it didn't quell the annoyance flickering in your chest. He raises a brow expectantly for your answer, and you quietly lift your hand to his arm, dusting it off.
Dusting her off.
And finally, you accept it. “I’m going to burn those clothes.”
He snorts. “I’m sure there's more romantic ways of getting me naked, but this’ll have to do for now.”
“I will. Then I’ll bury the ashes somewhere.”
“Charming.”
You look at him, disappointed—not in him, but yourself. Before you can drown in your own thoughts, he lifts his fingers to caress your face, smiling. “There really was no need to be jealous, darling.”
“I know,” you mutter. “I just—seeing her practically begging for your attention pissed me off.”
“And there's the difference between you and her. If it's worth even comparing at all,” he says, planting a peck to your forehead. “She begs a hopeless cause while I beg for you.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “You don't need to beg me for attention.”
“I’m aware. I know how much you're fond of me and my gorgeous eyelashes.” You sigh at this. “But I must admit that a selfish part of me is a bit pleased by your reaction to that vile woman.”
“Why? This feels horrible.”
“Well, now you get a taste of what I want to do when I see you with that damned cleric,” he groans at the thought. “Yes, I am aware you two are the giddiest of friends, but whenever she puts her hands all over you for the sake of healing—”
You burst into a fit of laughter. “How else is she supposed to help?”
“I’m sure she can heal you from a safe distance away. Preferably twelve feet. Maybe more.”
Wordlessly, you calm your smile and press your lips to his, your fingers running through white curls. He holds you like you’re made of glass, gently.
The kiss is soft, even as you finally pull away. “Stupid vampire.”
“Silly darling.”
You don't complain when he pulls you closer for one last kiss.
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dante-mightdie · 3 months
Text
part 4. of toxic simon
a/n: got a few ideas from my requests on what to add for this part so thank you very much, ash loves you <3
cw: kidnapping, weapons, murder, angst, comfort, themes of smut
It had been a few weeks since simon had walked in on you and alex. since that night, there had been a dramatic shift in the price home. the once broody lieutenant was now just the pure embodiment of rage and misery.
he barely left the guest room for the whole of his leave. and when he did, he was causing problems. never in front of your father, however. he's not stupid. but he constantly felt the need to size up alex in front of you. looming over him with that fucking mask on, flexing his muscles.
alex never indulges in simon's desperate attempts to pull a viscous reaction from him. to make you see that your new man isn't that much nicer than him, darl'. so you might as well come back to what you know.
no, instead alex leads you out of the room. not without a soft mumble of 'let's go sugar. you don't need to be hearing this.' simon wonders if you've told alex about him. about how he smashed your heart into a million little pieces.
he's gotten low a couple of nights. resorting to snapping mirror picks in his tight black briefs after his shower. you there were no identifiers that it was ghost. no, only you knew it was simon.
he's a bastard. he knows he wont get a response from you. he will, however, get to listen to the hushed bickering coming from you and alex that night when he sees the photo.
alex got called away on duty after a big fight between the two of you. It was clear that you hadn't made up by the time he left, either. simon can tell by the way you moped around. barely speaking to anyone in the home. simon tried to speak to you, hoping to score back some points whilst things were rocky between you and your man. you just brushed him off, sulking back off to your room.
later that night when simon was laying in bed, his phone buzzed with a text from you.
'simon' was all it read
simon rolled his eyes, feeling like a kicked puppy after you ignored him, he decided to ignore your message. puts his phone down and rolls over to go to sleep, ignoring the constant buzzing of his phone from behind him.
simon was sure he got a few good hours of sleep before being violently woken up to a strong hand shaking his shoulder.
"simon. simon, get up." he recognises your father's panicked voice calling out to him. he's groggy for a few moments before your father says two words that hit him like a bucket of ice water,
"she's gone."
simon feels and ice cold chill run down his spine at your father's words.
"my daughter she's fucking gone. someone took my fucking daughter."
simon had to stop price from tearing the whole house up, grabbing his shoulders and promising him that they will find you.
simon and price are on base the very next morning. along with alex, gaz, and soap. everyone is deadly silent, standing tall and ready as their captain briefs them on how they're going to get you back. Alex has a tick in his jaw and simon is sure he's going to snap if anything goes wrong
10 minutes before they ship out and simon is having a cigarette, trying to ease his nerves. he hadn't even checked his phone yet and it only just clicked in his brain that you text him last night. those messages were still unopened on his phone. with a weight on his chest, simon unlocks his phone and feels his heart sink when he sees those texts,
'simon? is that you?'
'simon seriously I can hear noises downstairs'
'are you outside my door?'
'simon, please. i'm scared.'
you were calling him for help.
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simon has been fighting down bile for the past 45 minutes. the helicopter ride certainly not helping ease the horrendous amount amount of guilt he's feeling. neither is watching alex bounce his leg nervously, or price chain smoke cigar after cigar.
it's a long trek from the drop-point to the abandoned warehouse where they suspect you're being kept. simon trudging through the mud behind everyone else, praying that no one says a word to him.
"if my intel is good, she's in that building there." alex says, pointing down to the building.
"this is a weapons free op, boys. shoot to kill. do what you need to do to get my girl back home safe." price commands out in his gruff voice, but you can hear a slight edge to his tone. a streak of nervousness that simon has never seen in his captain.
It's a clean sweep once they breach the entrance, bodies dropping in quick succession. room after room being swept and an anxious feeling hanging on everyone's shoulders each time they don't find you.
simon makes his way to the basement floor, taking out the hitmen guarding the heavy metal doors at the end of the dark hallway. he pushes the door open slowly, gun raised and ready to take out an immediate threats.
there were no threats in the room, simon quickly realised, just you. poor, terrified you huddled up in the corner with chains attached to your wrists and ankles. shaking violently like a feral cat. the fear in your eyes causes simon to immediately lower his gun and raise his hands in a 'I-mean-no-harm' way.
he takes a couple hesitant steps towards you, careful not to frighten you even more.
"hey..." he whispers, "it's just-"
"she's here!"
simon was cut off by the sound of alex alerting everyone to your safety. he immediately rushes past simon, knealing in front of you. the second you recognise him, you're reaching for him as sobs start to make their way from your throat.
"It's alright, baby. I'm here, I got you. You're safe now." alex coos to you as he scoops you into his arms, leaving simon to stand behind him like a ghost.
the sight of you reaching for alex instead of him makes simon feel as through someone is prying his rib cage open with a crowbar. he felt truly left in the dust. but he can't blame you, no. this was his fault.
he lost.
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heich0e · 4 months
Text
"kats, your tag's stickin' up."
katsuki hums in some kind of recognition, your remark of no particular interest to him at the moment. he's sitting with his back to you at his kitchen table, hunched over a bowl of cereal—the boring kind that's good for you, the kind of stuff your grandma likes—and a textbook that's been meticulously highlighted and has notes written in the margins. you reach towards the back of his neck without thinking, pinching the little tag between your fingers and tucking it back down under the collar of his t-shirt. your fingertips brush against the warm skin at his nape as you do so.
the boy in front of you grunts in surprise at the unexpected contact, his shoulders lifting all the way up to his ears as he pitches himself forward across the table away from you. he almost knocks his bowl of cereal over in the process, and he chokes loudly on the mouthful he's chewing as he goes.
"the hell was that for?" katsuki barks out hoarsely after he's managed to swallow down the cereal lodged in his throat, he doesn't turn to look at you as he says it.
"jeez," you remark incredulously, startled by his reaction to such an innocuous gesture. "i was just tucking in the tag!"
"never asked you to do that," katsuki grumbles as he settles back in his seat. you watch as he fiddles with the spoon in his bowl, but doesn't take another bite, and you can't help but notice the pink flush that's crawled up his throat all the way to his ears.
"hey," you remark curiously, still standing behind him with your hands on your hips. "is your neck ticklish?"
he finally turns in his seat, glaring at you over his shoulder.
"no," he snaps.
his cheeks are pink too.
you and katsuki have only been hooking up for a few months, so there are lots of things you don't yet know about each other. sure, you've been superficially acquainted since high school—at least enough to recognize each others' names—but knowing someone in passing and knowing the intimate intricacies of their body are two vastly different things. hell, this is only your second time spending the night at katsuki's apartment, and the first time ever on a school night.
your eyes glance over to the clock on the stove at the reminder. it's still only 7:30—katsuki had risen at the ass-crack of dawn, much to your horror. his first class isn't even until 11:00 while yours is at 9:30, and you would have happily slept in for another hour if not for him waking you as he crawled out of his bed.
"hey, you mind if i borrow a shirt or something to wear to class?" you ask him, scratching at the warm skin of your tummy under the oversized hoodie you'd pulled on when you rolled out of his sheets that morning. you wouldn't be opposed to keeping it on, but it's a nice brand—and one of his favourites, given how often you've seen him wear it—so you don't dare request it.
katsuki turns to look at you again, cheeks still pink, eyes still narrowed.
"a shirt?" he asks. "why?"
"you got cum—"
"for fucks' sake," katsuki interrupts you, looking away—largely, you suspect, to hide the renewed reddening of his cheeks. "didn't you bring a change of clothes?"
"i would have," you chirp, "but if i recall correctly, the text you sent me at 11:30 last night seemed like me getting here right after i left the library was suuuuuper important."
"just.. wear that one." katsuki waves his hand dismissively over his shoulder, and you stare at his back a little dumbfoundedly. you hadn't expected that at all.
he shoves another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
katsuki sure has been full of surprises these past few months. you learn more about him every day. and not just about his body and what makes him feel good—that's sort of a given with casual, no-strings relationships like this one—but about his likes and dislikes, his quirks and eccentricities too. like what he eats for breakfast, or how his neck is ticklish, or the way he organizes the shoes on the shoe rack just inside his front door. you're not sure you dislike it, either, unravelling him bit by bit.
and katsuki doesn't say it, but he feels largely the same—realizing with every passing day that he's uncovering more about you than he ever thought he would that first night the two of you ended up fooling around after running into each other at a bar near campus.
katsuki had just gotten out of a long-term relationship. well, just meaning five months prior—though his friends often remind him that there's nothing "just" about five months. but contrary to popular belief, katsuki had always been a serial-monogamous dater, going from one long-term relationship to the next without any flings in-between. he had no intention of hooking up with anyone, least of all you, that night.
but one thing lead to another, and now here you are: shuffling around his kitchen as you try to find where he keeps his mugs, wearing his favourite sweatshirt. and katsuki knows you take two sugars in your coffee. knows you'll wait until the absolute last minute to head to campus for your 9:30 class. knows you'll take your notes in purple pen through your lecture because you claim the colour helps you remember the lesson.
but it's not just you who katsuki's learning things about these days.
for example, he's learning that maybe he's just not cut out for casual dating.
because every little thing he learns about you is starting to feel a lot like a string.
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15minlatewithbatbucks · 8 months
Text
One of the bats has to go undercover as a patient of a particularly suspect new and upcoming therapist. Bruce already has a backstory fleshed out and a cover identity, but that's no fun now is it.
Dick: Okay, the bat council is now in session. First things first-
Steph: I'm the realest.
Jason: Shut the fuck up.
Dick: No, no arguing. We're here on a MISSION.
Tim: That's right, a very important mission.
Dick: One of us has to go undercover as Dr. Hoffman's patient. But why? Why are we seeking therapy?
Tim: Wrong answers only. If any of you get too real, Dick can and will find you a real therapist.
Dick: And Tim, no superhero related answers. Bernard's PowerPoint nights give you too much of an advantage.
Tim: You're just jealous I know that Batman is actually a tulpa.
Jason: You shut the fuck up too.
---
Dick: Okay, I'll go first to get the obvious answer out of the way. I'm going because I'm secretly Batman, BUT I'm not here about that. I just have incredibly selective amnesia and can't remember the code to the Batmobile.
Jason: Oh that one's good. Let me think.
Steph: Hoffman is a man, right?
Dick: Right.
Steph: Easy, I'll claim womanly problems. Maybe get prescribed a vibrator.
Tim: *wheezes*
Dick: Ok Gotham's in the dark ages of psychology but not THAT much.
Steph: Spoilsport. Fine, I'm Batman's long lost twin sister.
Duke: Come on, we can't all go to therapy because of Batman.
Jason: I don't know, I feel like all of us should go to therapy because of Batman.
Cass: I'll go because I'm Batman.
Jason: I'd vote for you.
Duke: I think I would go because Metropolis isn't real.
Tim: Like, the whole city is-
Duke: It's a conspiracy. The government wants us to think there's this wonderful city where nothing bad ever happens and an actual alien from space saves the day. Tries to make us buy into some utopian bullshit.
Tim: Hoffman's just going to drive you there.
Duke: Ha! He's not getting ME to a secondary location. He might be in on it.
Steph: Compelling, definitely compelling. I nominate Duke's for first place.
Jason: Don't jump the gun.
Tim: Yeah, you haven't heard ours.
Steph: Well? Let's hear it then.
Tim: I'm an alien spy, sent here to study humans. Only I'm not doing well because I was taken in by rich people and they act weirder than me. I want to know what it means to be human, but whenever I look around all I see is how to make a good margarita. It makes me... sad.
Steph: That's no good. We said wrong answers only.
Jason: Solid four out of ten.
Tim: Fuck off.
Jason: I think I would go because I was convinced I was the second coming of Jesus which is all fine and good, but my whole family is Jewish so it's making things a little awkward at the dinner table.
Steph: You did come back from the dead.
Jason: I did and I'll tell him that. Took a little longer than three days this time, though.
Tim: Okay, I'll be honest. Jason and Duke's are the best.
Dick: Hold on- Damian, do you have an answer?
Damian: Of course. And not one so foolish.
Duke: Well?
Damian: Well, my whole family is comprised of vigilantes and I'm under a lot of stress to be one as well and continue the family tradition. I will of course swear him to secrecy and avoid naming any vigilantes by name.
Dick: ...
Jason: This is what I'm talking about. This is exactly what I'm-
Dick: Yes, okay. Game's over. All of you are getting psych referrals in your inbox by the morning.
Steph: What about-
Dick: Duke won.
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reiderwriter · 4 months
Text
Please Accept My Apology
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: After three days spent trying to convince the BAU that they had made a mistake, Spencer Reid shows up at your door to offer his apology.
Warnings: enemies to lovers, smut 18+ minors dni, slight age gap, penetrative sex, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, hints of bdsm, implied creampie etc.
You can find my masterlist here and my 2024 song fic challenge here (don't forget to send song recommendations to my inbox!)
You never thought you'd ever see the inside of an interrogation room before this week. Now you didn't think you'd ever see the outside of it.
“Y/N, you're brother ran from law enforcement multiple times, if you know where he is you need to tell us or you'll be charged with accessory to murder and kidnapping after the fact. Is that what you want?”
“Of course it isn't what I want, but I already told you I can't fucking help you!”
You paced in the boxed room, feeling closed in and hot.
Your brother - your innocent brother - was the key suspect in a series of child abductions and murders, and as he'd ran from law enforcement multiple times, they'd dragged you into the police precinct to try to track him down.
For the last three days, you'd been stuck sitting at that table across from Doctor Spencer Reid, waiting for the worst news of your life, because you knew it was coming.
“He's not a murderer. He's mentally ill, but he wouldn't hurt anyone. I keep telling you that, why won't you believe me?”
“A lot of loved ones protest a suspect's innocence, right down to the last second.” You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from the depth of your chest.
“My brother is schizophrenic. He was violent before, sure, he had outbursts. But he has been monitoring his meds for the last three years perfectly. He has a job, he has a son. He would not hurt those kids.”
You had always looked up to your elder brother, even through the tough years.
He'd inherited both your fathers drinking problem and your mother's mental illness, each demon feeding the other until he had a breakdown at age 19.
You were only 17 yourself, but with no one else to hold him accountable, you'd been there. You'd checked him into a facility, you drove him to each of his doctor's appointments when he was clean. You'd been around for each sober anniversary, for each birthday and holiday and celebration that he'd made it one more year without falling into himself.
He'd reciprocated by being the most reliable man you knew. He helped put you through college when he was stable enough, he'd managed to work his way up in the ranks at his construction job. He had a beautiful wife (currently in another interrogation room with another agent) and the cutest little boy.
He'd promised you that your family struggles would end with the two of you. You'd promised each other to take care of each others families if anything happened to them in the future, and while you currently had no family to speak of, you sure as hell were going to make sure that your nephew never wanted for anything in his life.
Your brother wasn't a murderer, and you had proof enough.
“You know, you haven't asked me yet why I think he's innocent.” You took your seat again, and gathered your hands together on the table, leaning in closer to the agent in front of you.
You watched him think for a second, then mirror your pose, leaning in just as close, eyes locked with yours.
You'd talked about a lot of things these past three days, and you got the idea that he was a bit of a jackass. If not a jackass, then at least big-headed; he'd practically shouted his title of Doctor at you as he'd walked in, and made sure to correct you every time you'd called him agent or sir.
You kept doing it just to piss him off eventually.
“It's denial, Miss Y/L/N. You don't want to see the signs you'd ignored for that lingered, so you beg and protest and plead, hoping that eventually you'll turn out to be correct.” His voice was low, but you caught every word.
“While I am sure you know what you're talking about Agent Reid, that is not why I'm here still. I'm not being charged with a crime, and I've been here much longer than 24 hours. I'm free to go at any point, but I'm sticking around here, lawyer free, because I want to watch your face when you realise you'd been wrong this entire time.”
He shifted uncomfortably and you smiled, happy to get under his skin once again.
“Okay, Miss Y/L/N. What makes you so sure your brother is innocent?”
“Your profile.” His eyes slightly widened at that, and you basked in it, leaning back and waiting for him to take the bait as the tide turned in your conversation.
“We profiled that our unsub would be late 20s to early 30s, probably a family man who'd likely been abused as a child. The profile also suggested he may have had a psychotic break recently, likely as a result of coming off his meds. Your brother fits the profile, Y/N.”
He'd dug his own grave, and you were happy to see him getting ready to sleep in it too.
“No, he doesn't, Agent.”
A tense silence passed between you, and you knew his gaze was fixed on you. You let your eyes dart elsewhere, rolling down his body to his hands. They were totally still of course, but you could see how tense he was by the way he pushed them flat against the table, almost as if he were trying to ground himself, finding reassurance in the pressure.
“How does he not fit the profile?” His brows were knitted together, and his expression was one of annoyance now.
No matter how much you had shouted or let out your frustrations these past few days, he'd kept a placid look of sympathy plastered across his features. He hadn't listened, or even suggested he'd wanted to, assuming your brother was guilty.
Now he was annoyed, as if he had the right.
“Despite what your records supposedly tell you, my brother is not off his meds.”
“Miss Y/L/N, we know that your brother did not refill his prescription three months ago, and that he looked into some clinical trials in the metropolitan area and was rejected.”
“Congratulations for having 50% of the facts. My brother wasn't rejected from those trials, he withdrew because they changed the terms. They wanted to study my nephew as well to see if they could predict where hereditary cases of Schizophrenia would manifest.”
You leaned in again now, enjoying watching the thoughts rush through Spencer Reid's head once again.
“His health insurance had some issues after the withdrawal, so his prescription couldn't be filled until next week, but my brother always had six months of pills delivered.”
You watched the realisation come crashing down on the agent in front of you, though he was doing a good job of keeping himself out together.
It was time to end this conversation.
“To take part in the clinical trial, he needed to stop taking his regular medication for two weeks. Meaning he has two more weeks of his regular medication. I watched him take it Monday morning, right about when your second kidnapping occurred. My sister-in-law will confirm.”
He stood from his chair slowly and nodded at you, making his way to the door.
“And Agent Reid?” You said making sure to hold his attention one last time before he could leave. “If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you responsible.”
He slipped from the room without another word, and you relaxed into the chair, letting your eyes fall shut as you waited patiently.
Xxx
It was another week before your brother was totally cleared. He'd turned himself into law enforcement the same day you'd forced the BAU to reevaluate their profile, and both he and his wife had cracked up your story.
With nothing else to distract them, you'd been happily informed that they'd caught the actual perpetrator, and saved another victim.
You were back at home now, trying to relax, to get back on track.
You knew by the knock on the door that you weren't going to get back to your normal routine just yet.
“Agent Reid, I wasn't expecting you.” He was there at your door, and you had to brush off a wave of annoyance, forcing yourself not to slam the thing in his goddamn face.
“It's Doctor Reid. You know that, though.” He mumbled the words, jaw tense as he heaved out a sigh, trying to get to his point but being distracted by your prickly words.
“I came to talk. May I come inside?”
“We talked for three days straight, Doc. What else could we possibly need to discuss?” You made sure to block the door with your body, one arm resting on the doorframe as you leant across it, the other holding the door tightly next to you.
You thought he'd get the idea, tuck his tail between his legs, and swiftly leave you alone, but you were sadly mistaken.
Instead his eyes raked over your body as you put it on display, curiously exploring every inch you put in his eyeline.
“May I come in?” He repeated, eyes still trailing down your body. If it weren't for the heat building inside of you, you'd have slammed the door in his face. A moment's hesitation was all you got instead, as he locked eyes with you again, and you reluctantly moved an inch to the side.
You stayed there in the doorway even as he entered, his body brushing against yours almost intimately for the second, his hand faintly tracing over your hip as he stepped inside, watching you all the time.
Needing desperately to gain your composure back, you jumped into asking questions. “You're in now. What do you want?”
“I wanted to apologise.” He hadn't moved far into the apartment, and you realised aa soon as you turned away from locking the door, overestimating his distance. You spun right into his arms, one of his palms coming to your waist to steady you as the other steadied the two of you against the wall.
“And whatever would the wonderful Doctor Reid need to apologise for?”
Your words were venomous, but the heat in them rose from somewhere deeper than the acid in your stomach, somewhere more fiery than the burning sensation at the back of your throat.
“I'm trying to do the right thing here, Y/N.”
“After a week of doing the wrong thing, Spencer, I'm not sure you're fully capable of that.”
His brows furrowed as he pouted, and you hated his proximity, both too close and too far at the same time. You wanted to run him apart, and then delicately sew him back together.
“I was doing my job.”
“You almost got my brother killed.”
“I'm sorry.” He heaved out an exasperated breath with the words, body relaxing and pushing your back fully against the wall. His eyes widened, and you could tell that he hadn't meant to move you in that way, but you just stared at him still, eyes flicking down to his lips with every intrusive thought.
This was how close you needed him.
“I don't give a shit if you're sorry.” You meant the words to be harsh a warning, but you hadn't realised your heartbeat bursting from your throat, your breathy gasps for air making it sound more erotic than angry.
He blinked once, then twice, slowly as if he was a scientist observing an experiment, not wanting to take his eyes off of it until he was certain something wouldn't happen.
“You're enjoying this.”
“I'm not.”
“Your heart rate is at 127 bpm, your pupils are dilated, your breathing is shallow. You're enjoying this. Why?”
His hands didn't let up, even as he shot out his words, brows furrowing further as you resisted the urge to push him away.
It was more comfortable keeping him close.
“I told you I am not enjoying this. You're just too close.”
“So, you're having a physical reaction to me?” He asked, almost quizzically. You had expected to hear a triumphant smirk or something in his voice, but he seemed genuinely curious.
“For God's sake, Spencer, yes. Yes, you're close and it's making me uncomfortable. You spent three days making me feel uncomfortable, and now you've come back for round two, are you happy now?”
“You're not uncomfortable,” he shot out again, almost as if he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. “You're aroused.”
“Know it all.” He laughed at that, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. You weren't sure what the hell was going on with your body, because you'd spent the week despising the man in front of you, but now a simple hand on your wrist and a laugh had you blushing like a schoolgirl.
“So what if I am aroused? You're touching me, you have me pinned against the wall, really this is your fault, Agent.”
“It's Doctor, but you can call me Spencer. Or you can go back to another colourful insult if you'd prefer?”
“You're pretty full of yourself, I thought you came to apologise.”
“I did, it's not exactly me that is acting like they want to be filled right now though.”
“Jackass,” you snapped, as he lowered his hand around to cup your ass, finally allowing himself a tiny hint at the smirk you'd predicted earlier.
You gasped as he took a handful of your ass and pulled you flush against him.
“I want to say sorry, I want to make it up to you. I'm being quite charitable here.”
“Charity, my dear Doctor, is where you give something and expect nothing in return. It seems like you want something in return.” You spat the words again but you let your hands press lightly against his chest, waiting for him to make the next move as you played with the buttons of his shirt.
“I'd be more than happy to do that, too.”
You weren't sure who reached for who, or which one of you made the first push, but you were suddenly joined together by your lips, each of you battling furiously for dominance.
Your hands pushed up desperately, clawing into his long, busy strands and pulling him down further into you as you worked against him.
He was still stronger than you though, so when he forced your head back an inch, you moved out of necessity.
“Is that enough, or should I keep apologising?”
“Nowhere near enough, jacka-” he cut you off by pushing the tip of his thumb into your mouth, using one of his legs to spread yours so he could nuzzle himself between them.
“Why so quiet now? We couldn't shut you up in those interrogation rooms, but now you're so polite and obedient.” You moaned around his thumb as he stroked your tongue, encouraging you to suck it.
You didn't need much instruction, desperate now to show off your superior skills to the man in front of you.
“That's it, show me how much you want it, my little whore.”
His hand slipped into your pants quietly, but you twitched as his hands feathered their way along your pelvic bone, twitching at the sensitivity of the connection.
His hands slipped into your panties and you knew immediately it was over for you. You were so wet, and he was going to be able to tell just how much you apparently wanted him.
You moaned as he roughly pushed your pants down, finger teasing your cunt through your panties as you still struggled to suck his thumb so you didn't make any louder noises.
“You're enjoying this.” It was no longer a question, but a confident statement, no curiosity but simple satisfaction at how good he was making you feel.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth, rubbing some saliva across your lips to make them shine before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. Your hands barely pushed out in from of you before your chest collided with the wall, and he was close behind you.
As he coaxed your panties down your legs, you closed your eyes and tried to keep your breathing steady, desperately clinging to some high ground where you could find it.
His fingers were hot and long, and they quickly found your clit and got to work as he ground his hard cock against your bare ass.
His pants were still on, but you could feel the outline of his dick against you, hips rutting back into him with each flick of his wrist.
“Now, come on Y/N. You said it's not charity if I receive something in return, right?” He whispered into your ear as you tried to reach behind you to grab his dick.
“We're going to take this nice and slow, and you're going to enjoy all of it.”
His fingers slowed to an aching pace as he finally pushed a first digit inside of you. His hips finished moving and his free hand held you still too, so the only friction was coming from that one hand between your legs, practically edging you.
“Fuck me, just fuck me Spencer.” You moaned in frustration.
“Doctor.” He whispered in your ear, the glee in his voice igniting your hatred of him all over again.
“What?” You spat out.
“Call me Doctor Reid, and I'll give you anything you want. You want to cum, right?”
His fingers kept their slow pace, and you could feel yourself growing more impatient, even as you grit your teeth together.
“Fuck me, Doctor Reid.”
“What about please?”
“Fuck you.” You instantly regretted your words when he pulled his hands off your body completely, retreating further into your house.
“No, shit, wait.-”
You scrambled after him as he took a seat on your couch, removing his jacket and loosening his already dishevelled tie.
“What do you want, Y/N?” He asked, palming himself through his pants as he watched you practically fall at his feet, needing his hands back on you.
“I want you to f-fuck me, please Doctor Reid.” He nodded slightly, pulling your remaining clothing off as he responded.
“That's a good little slut.” He led your hand over his cock and let you undo the buttons and pull him out. You needed no other instructions as he leaned back and pulled your legs into a firmer position.
You gave his cock a few strokes before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him.
“So fucking wet for me, you were so aroused, baby.”
He didn't let you control the pace, but held your hips still just above him as he began pushing into you from below, lifting his hips to fill you up with each thrust.
You couldn't bite back the screams as his balls slapped against you, Spencer trying his best to fit his entire length into you with each deep thrust. You wanted to kill the man only an hour earlier, and now you were sure you wanted to have him inside you like this forever.
“Oh fuck, just like that, just like that Spencer please!”
Your hand drifted down to your cunt and you're began to rub feverishly, even as you felt the pressure build up from your gut.
The pressure was almost unbearable and before you knew it you were squirting on his cock, fingers splashing wave after wave of your arousal over his cock and clothes.
“Already squirting for me? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me, Y/N. I guess you are just a little whore.”
You twitched, but couldn't respond, as he began thrusting sloppier than ever before, grunting in your ear as he finally joined you in your mess.
His grip on your hip slipped as he finally started cumning, and you moaned feeling him so deep as he gathered you in his arms and pulled you chest to chest.
You sat there panting together for an eternity before you even thought about detangling your limbs from one another.
“You made a mess of my fucking sofa.” You said as you finally rose up slightly, looking down at the mess beneath you.
“No, Y/N, that was you. I simply helped.”
“Jackass.”
“Whore.”
You gasped as he laughed at you again, pulling your hips back down over his so you couldn't slide off his cock again.
“Don't act so scandalised when I can feel just how much that turned you on. You're enjoying this.”
You pouted a little, but let your head fall back against his chest.
“And what if I am, Agent Reid?”
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luveline · 3 months
Note
Hi Jade! I absolutely love your writing, especially when you write for Eddie or Steve. Love these two. I was wondering if you could write about an insucure reader who has been rejected a lot and doesn't believe it when someone actually starts loving her for who she is. I'd love this with either Eddie or Steve . You can choose who you want to write for. If you don't wanna write something like this, that's fine too. Just know that I love your writing!
ty for requesting!! —you have a hard time believing eddie loves you, but he does. fem, 1.1k
“Oh my god.” 
Eddie freaks you out when he talks like that. His voice turns hoarse, almost grainy, like he’s in shock, or he can’t get a grip. 
“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asks. 
“It’s not alright?” you ask, looking down at your outfit. It’s just jeans and a chunky cardigan. He sounds like he loves it, but your brain goes straight to worry anyhow. 
“No, not alright.” He leans back against your pillows, his arms behind his head and his biceps doing something cruel against his shirt sleeves. “Not alright at all. Do a spin?” 
You shake your head severely. 
“Doll,” he says, pouting gently. “Please?” 
“No, if it looks bad, I’ll change,” you say. 
“It doesn’t look bad! I’m kidding. You look the opposite of bad, so do a spin!” 
You love his voice and the way he talks, and you love him —though of course he doesn’t know it— so you end up doing a slow spin for him in your bedroom. You’ve buttoned the top button of your cardigan and it’s a very static movement, but he oohs, ahs, and sits up quickly. 
“Yeah, you look fucking beautiful.” 
“Boo,” you mumble. 
“Just as I suspected you would.” He gestures you forward. “Wait, come over here a second.” 
Eddie says wait as an act of persuasion, or a white lie; he makes it sound as though there’s something urgent afoot, but there never is. He grabs your arm when you’re close enough, then your back, looking up into your face imploringly. “I just wanted to look at you.” Being held like this warms you from the inside out. His hand scrunches your cardigan and shirt, the other bringing your arm to his chest. “But you guessed that.” 
“No, I…” You smile in a flat line. “You’re sure I look good?” 
“Of course I am. I was kidding,” he says, softer now. “You know? I was being sarcastic, because you look that good it’s crazy to imply you look bad. I promise.” 
You sit down on the bed beside him. 
“You look so pretty,” he says. 
You nod as a strange ache blossoms in your throat. “Sorry,” you say, wishing you could explain it to him. You weren’t always scared of what people are thinking, but past dismissal has left you off kilter, and now he’s paying the price. 
“For what, angel?” he asks, though he’s not waiting for an answer. “You’re…you do look beautiful, you do, I’m not messing around. Well, I was. But I’m not now, so don’t be sorry, and don’t worry. I love this stuff, I fucking love the jeans, you have nice thighs,” —he laughs at your tired sigh— “and I love buttons. These buttons are great.” 
You let your cheek rest gently on his arm, still laughing. He’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be, but he’s not half as cool as he thinks he is. He’s too earnest to be a bad boy. “Thank you.” 
“I love you.” 
You shake your head. Eddie’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer, face encouraged into his neck. “I do,” he says gently. “I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” 
“Yes.” 
He brings his hand to the back of your neck. “Mm. And have I given you any reason to think I’m lying?” 
“I don’t think you’re lying, I just think that… that I… you know.”
“I know. Doesn’t make it true.” He sounds a peculiar mixture of sad and happy at once. Find concern, perhaps, or loving derision. “I love you, and I’d love it if you walked around in bobbly sweaters and clogs. I don’t care what you wear, ‘cos it’s you.” 
“There’s nothing even that good about me to feel that way for.” 
“You don’t think so, but I do.” He turns his face down to you and presses the bridge of his nose to your temple. 
His t-shirt smells like clary soap. You curl your hand into the front of it, the soft wall of his abdomen underneath a familiar comfort. He hugs you tighter still. Eddie’s told you he loves you a few times, and you’d thought that when a guy finally felt the same way about you, everything would be fixed, you could say it back and live happily ever after, but it hasn’t worked out that way so far. Every time he tells you he loves you, you’re paralysed by the idea that he can’t. But then he holds you like this and you start to wonder if he’s telling the truth. 
He kisses the side of your face. “You okay?” he asks, kissing you again to punctuate. 
“Yes. Yeah.” You work your arms behind his back and squeeze him. 
Eddie encourages your head back carefully. He meets your eyes; all you can see is his irises, deeply brown, and his long lashes where they tent together. You’re too close to see his lips, but you can sense that he’s smiling from the warmth in his eyes and the slight droop of his eyelids. 
“Kiss?” he murmurs. 
You hum a yes. Eddie nudges your nose with his until there’s space to kiss you, your lips pressed tight and then less so, a dance of sweet kisses. You relax under his touch, the physical evidence of his affection, so totally that your back clicks. He smiles into your mouth but pulls away, too tempted by the opportunity to make a joke. 
“You need a masseuse,” he says, bringing his hand to your cheek. 
“No, I don’t.” You can practically see the steam radiating off of your cheeks. 
“You totally do. I could give you a massage, babe. I’m really good.” 
“No… we’re going to the movies.” 
“See, that sounds like you do want one. I can give you one later.” 
You look at him for too long, his brows pulling together in concern, but it’s nothing he has to worry about. “Love you,” you say quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for another hug. 
His arm stutters at your side. “I love you,” you correct. The ‘I’ is important, especially when he’s never heard it from you before. It’s easy to love someone so patient, and so funny. 
He hugs you tight and sudden. “Yeah,” he says, “I love you too.” His watch digs into your spine. You don’t tell him. It’ll probably bruise, but you just don’t care. It’s nice to be loved fiercely. 
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oikasugayama · 4 months
Text
YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG
NSFW, for adults ONLY, MDNI or I'll block you. No idea how many parts this will be. Let me know which BSD men you want to see ;)
pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai
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Fyodor
Walking in on him touching himself is REALLY surprising because he doesn't seem the type to masturbate, in your mind. You straight up couldn't imagine him touching himself until the very second you walked into his office and saw his bottoms around his ankles, his top hiked up around his chest, and his hand furiously pumping over his pale dick.
His head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth lazily hanging open. You've never seen so much skin on him before. He's PALE pale which makes the brightness of his mouth and tongue and the tip of his cock seem so much brighter.
"oh love, yes, yesss" he moans, and your whole body flushes red with embarrassment and arousal at the same time. You shouldn't be seeing this but you're having a hell of a time turning away from him. You need to leave the room. You need to go. You need to turn around.
"y/n," he purrs, tilting his head and opening his eyes half-way, looking so fucked out and erotic. "do you like what you see?"
You can't formulate an answer, you're standing in the doorway short circuiting, trying to make words but only noises come out
"since you're standing there I thought you might be interested," he says as slow and calm as ever. Even jerking himself off his voice doesn't hitch or raise or speed up and it's honestly really hot right now. "Care to join me?"
"i-i, um... I'm really s-sorry, f...fyodor."
He moans softly biting his lip while still staring straight at you.
"say it again," he purrs. "say my name."
"fyodor..."
"again," he moans, hand working faster.
"Fyodor."
you walk in and close the door behind you.
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Poe
You two scheduled a hang-out at his place but despite how many times you knocked on the door, he wouldn't answer...so you try the doorknob, and hey, it's unlocked! You've been to his place many times, you don't mind letting yourself in and don't suspect he'll mind either.
After you put your stuff down and take off your shoes, you register a quiet noise coming from a different room. you sneak closer and realize two things: it's crying, and it's coming from poe's bedroom
you open the door and rush in without thinking. "poe! what's wrong, why are you-- OH FUCK"
you rushed right into him kneeling at the edge of his bed, bouncing on a dildo and not crying, whimpering, moaning.
he calls your name and you can't tell if he meant to moan it but he absolutely moans it and he sounds like a wreck and he looks pathetic and fucked out, and you feel it when he says your name.
"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been this, I'm gonna go home--" you say, turning and rushing out of his room. he calls your name after you, multiple times, moaning and moaning and moaning--
you sink down against his front door, still slightly able to hear the sounds of him moaning and whining from his room. you're so horny now, absolutely drenched through your panties/rock hard in your pants. You know you should leave, you know you shouldn't still be here, but he never told you to go, he just kept saying your name...
a few minutes later, after the noises have subsided and the apartment has gotten deadly quiet, his bedroom door creaks open and he slowly peeks his head out. he must be crawling still because he's near the floor.
"[y/n]," he sighs, "I didn't want you to find out like this."
it takes you a second to collect yourself, but you manage to ask "find what out?"
"that i... i think about you... a lot..."
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Chuuya
you're on a PM mission with chuuya and several other PM members. you've got to share a room with chuuya, but at least you have separate beds. it's fine. it's whatever. until.
until you wake up one morning--the clock on the bedside table saying it's only 6:23 a.m.--to the sound of a rhythmic slapping, some occasional huffs, a-- a moan?
you sit upright in bed quickly, your head turning toward chuuya's bed.
"are you fucking serious?"
"what" he huffs, and through the tiny bit of daylight creeping through the curtains you can see movement beneath his sheets.
"are you jerking off right now? dude we're sharing a fucking room."
"you were asleep," he says defensively. "not like you noticed yesterday."
"dude!!!"
"get over it, it's fuckin' natural," he says and his voice is getting tight and higher almost like he's biting back a moan or getting close to cumming.
"it's disrespectful when you have someone in the same room, chuuya," you say softer, subconsciously still trying to hear the sounds he's making. you're embarrassed at how intrigued you are
"i'm not stopping you," he says. "you can jerk it too for all i care."
"to what... to you jerking it?"
you can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says "I never said anything about that, so you thought that up all on your own. is that what you're into, pet?"
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