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#THEY OWN A SHOP !!!!! THEY DANCE TOGETHER !!!!!!!
ripplefields · 2 years
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sorry this is really rushed but @powerpolyculeshowdown ROUND ONE VOTE POLYSCC !!!!!!!! POLY DJ ROBOTS FTW !!!!!!!!
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hamletthedane · 8 months
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I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.
What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.
What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.
What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.
The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.
And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.
But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.
I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.
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octarineblues · 2 months
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supporting communities & people impacted by the Southport attack and the far-right riots in the UK
here is a list of community fundraisers I found, starting with those aiming to support the Southport community after the appalling attack at a children dance party, to the fundraisers helping those affected by the subsequent racist and Islamophobic far-right/nazi riots
Edited on 5 August to include Middlesbrough fundraisers. Edited on 6 August to correct the link on the Books for Spellow Lane fundraiser, to adjust the name change for the Belfast fundraiser, and to adjust the wording in the second last paragraph.
Southport:
Southport Strong Together Appeal - organised by the community foundation for Merseyside, for those affected by the Southport knife attack
United for Southport families - the funds will be distributed among the nine families of the children who were at the party
Swifties for Southport - a fundraiser for the Alder Hey Children's charity, which supports the victims and the affected families, as well as first responders and clinicians. Extra funds will also support the wider Southport community
Fundraiser for the Southport Mosque - a fundraiser to aid rebuilding or possibly re-locating the Southport Mosque after the damages it suffered during the riots
Rebuilding Windsor Mini Mart - fundraiser to rebuild the locally-owned grocery store that was targeted during the attacks, broken into, and looted
Liverpool:
Fundraiser for the Spellow Hub - the Spellow Hub was broken into, looted and set on fire at night during the riots. The Spellow Hub is a newly created one-of-a-kind (in the UK) institution, which consists of a library as well as a community centre with a mission to help people get education and pathways to work
Books for Spellow Lane - another fundraiser for the library in the Spellow Hub, to replace the books and rebuild the library there edit: included the correct link
Hartlepool:
Fundraiser for the Nasir Mosque - the Nasir Mosque was attacked following Southport riots; this fundraiser is organised by Hartlepool citizens to help the mosque deal with the damages as well as to show appreciation for the role of the mosque in the community. edit: the funds will be also distributed to the local community!
Rebuilding the Farm Shop - the shop was targeted during the riots, and when the owner and his son tried to protect it, they were also violently attacked. The fundraiser is to help fix the damages to the store.
Sunderland:
help rebuild Citizens Advice Sunderland offices after arson - two of the Citizens Advice Sunderland offices were set on fire during the riots, and one of them is completely destroyed.
Hull:
Hull Help for Refugees - a local fundraiser to support the Hull Help for Refugees charity, the donated money will be re-distributed to community members affected by the riots
Fundraiser for Hull Help for Refugees and Welcome House in Hull - collected money will be donated to the two charities
Belfast:
help fix racially motivated damages - originally the fundraiser for the Sahara Shisha Cafe which was targeted by the far right in Belfast during the riots, now a fundraiser for all affected businesses in the area. edited to reflect the change of the name of the fundraiser to avoid any confusion
Middlesbrough:
Supporting residents after the riots - Middlesbrough has suffered so much during the riots, lots of businesses as well as just regular family homes were vandalised, had their windows smashed or even were broken into. This fundraiser wants to distribute the funds between affected people to help them fix the damages, and to generally support the local community. the newest fundraiser, imo potentially the most urgent one
Fundraiser for a Care worker's car which was set on fire - a car belonging to an employee of a care agency was set on fire during the riots while he was on shift at a care home.
If you want to donate locally but there is no fundraiser to support where you live, consider donating to your local charities oriented towards Muslim or PoC communities, or towards anti-racist and refugee organizations! And go support your local Muslim/Arab/Black/Asian/Refugee owned businesses!
If you have any information about other local fundraisers, feel free to add to the post or don't hesitate to let me know and I will add them here! We have seen so much hate in the past few days, we have to stay strong and keep supporting each other!
Stay safe everyone 💛
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Request idea:
Your darling, adoring, wonderful boyfriend Jason sits you down And solemnly confesses that he is red hood. He’s been dreading this day for months. If you want to leave, he’ll understand and wait—-
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME?
Jason thinks he’s in an angst fic. The reader is in a rom com where her boyfriend has been a ridiculously obvious superhero, but she’ll let him tell her when he’s ready.
Maybe some shaningany flashbacks where you’ve helped to keep his identity secret (stalling so he can change, giving alibis) while he was oblivious.
- Batchilla
To Wait and To Love
Hi Batchilla! Hope you enjoy! ♡ ~1.5k words
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Your boyfriend is a vigilante, Red Hood, to be exact. You know this. He's just not aware you know this.
It's obvious, really, and kind of cute the way he makes excuses to leave. Sure, before you put two and two together, it was starting to seem like he was just dragging you along. But it all made sense when you caught sight of the helmet poorly concealed under his bed.
It makes you wonder if he wants to get caught. Especially when he brings you flowers from the shop you just saw him save from Poison Ivy on TV. Or freezer-burnt cartons of ice cream from your favorite ice cream shop, which was buried under piles of snow courtesy of one Mr. Freeze only twenty minutes ago.
You offer him big smiles and kisses of thanks, and your heart melts a little at how relieved he looks, how baffled he is by your understanding. And you do understand. To tell someone you run around in spandex and leather every night is a big risk, especially for someone who used to run crime in Gotham.
You're no angel yourself, even if he does call you one, and it's endearing to watch him scramble for excuses. It's even more endearing that he tries so hard to make it up to you when he's late, when he has to leave early, when he comes back battered and bruised with flimsy half-thought out explanations.
You'll let him take all the time he needs to tell you, and it's almost funny how easily you've come to cover for him.
"Jason? Oh, he's changing his suit. Someone knocked into me and I spilled my drink all over his jacket. How embarrassing," You laugh out, answering the reporter's question over Jason's absence from the latest Wayne Gala. It's only half a lie, you might not have spilled your drink but he's definitely changing his suit. It's just not the suit anyone would expect.
Once whispers of a break-in at Gotham National Bank started circulating the Gala, it wasn't hard to miss the meaningful glances between your boyfriend and his family. Sometimes you wonder how no one's noticed it before.
You smile brightly at him once he comes back, smelling like gunpowder and leather, and you let him kiss your knuckles while he mumbles apologies over getting caught up with an old friend. You don't imagine Riddler is exactly an old friend, but you teasingly tell him how he owes you a dance for making you wait. He smiles back, his own grin even brighter than yours, as he leads you to the dance floor.
You're opening the door to your apartment, chatting lazily with your friend after a night out.
"Is your boyfriend here? I remember you saying you two were practically living together," they ask, eyes trailing around your living space.
You hum thoughtfully, "We pretty much are. I think he might be sleeping or out looking for the stray cat we saw the other day. It had a bad limp." It's not a hundred percent a lie either, there was a hurt stray. You just know that Catwomen already picked it up, after a text Jason sent to Bruce Wayne's current girlfriend, Miss. Selena Kyle. Which would have been more of a surprise if you didn't already know who Batman was.
But it definitely isn't the truth, because you did catch sight of a red helmet following you and your friend back from the club. (Gotham never felt safer, than when he was watching over you.)
Your friend coos and starts to respond, when a thump sounds from the fire escape. They jolt, "What was that?"
"The cat, probably," You say quickly, letting out a laugh, "it's, uh, pretty big. Has a limp. Hey, did I show you the flowers Jason got me?" You gesture towards the bouquet behind them, and you both focus on the pretty blossoms.
Within minutes, you hear your bedroom door open and close. "Hi, baby," Jason drawls, looping an arm around your waist to pull you to his side, "Sorry, I fell asleep, how was your night?"
You pretend not to notice the limp he's nursing, one you're certain he should be resting, and tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, "It was fun. Missed you."
"I missed you too," he echoes fondly, and the three of you fall into an easy conversation. You distract your friend when you all go to sit on the couch, and if you choose to avoid sitting on his left side, it's certainly not because Red Hood hurt his leg fighting Killer Croc earlier this week.
Jason has never said your name like that before. His eyebrows are knitted together. He's kneeling in front of you, his hands clasped over yours as you sit on the bed.
"I love you and I– I have something to tell you," he chokes out, strained, "please, just– just, hear me out."
It clicks. This is it. He's going to tell you.
You smile and nod, it'll be nice to finally air out this secret. And maybe he could help you work on your excuses? It'll be easier if you're working as a team. You reach out and brush his hair back, unfazed and delighted he's trusting you enough with this, "Of course, Jason. Anything you need to tell me."
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Jason is going to throw up. He's finally gotten his act together enough that he's going to tell his partner he's Red Hood. His stomach is churning, it's agony, knowing he could lose them over this.
They're so good to him. So understanding and patient and kind. He has no idea how he got so lucky. And he loves them. It's scary sometimes, how much he loves them. He wants this to last so badly. So, he has to be honest. Has to tell them he isn't what the world says he is.
He's a vigilante. Was a crime lord. He hurts people to save people. He terrifies the trash that calls themselves human. He's not good for you, but he tries. He wants you to still love him.
He wants you to stay so much. Even if he's not good. He wants you. You deserve so much more than the excuses and lies he gives. Jason's wanted to tell you for weeks, but he chokes on his words every time. He's never been so afraid of doing something. Not when he was a kid on the streets. Not when he was Robin. Not as Red Hood.
You look so perfect, sitting at the edge of your bed and smiling at him. He almost flinches when he thinks this could be the last time you smile at him.
He's on his knees. He's prepared to beg. He would beg to keep you.
He says your name, he tells you he loves you. It might be the last time he gets to say that to you. The thought makes him even more nauseous. He tells you he has something to say.
You brush his hair back and keep smiling. He wants to sob. You don't know. You don't know what he is, what he's done.
"I'm Red Hood," he gasps out, voice ragged.
A beat. You're still smiling, you still look happy, and you're nodding at him.
He blinks at you, "I'm Red Hood," he repeats, "I know that- I know it's a lot. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, baby–"
You lean forward and kiss him. He's more than just a little dumbfounded. "Jason, I love you too. I'm not leaving you. I, um, kind of already knew you were Red Hood?" You say, a sheepish smile coming over your face.
"You– what?" Jason stumbles out. You're still here. Still touching him. You kissed him. You look relaxed. Happy.
"I saw your helmet under the bed. Everything clicked after that," You tell him gently.
"And you're okay with that? You're okay with me?" He asks, tone betraying his desperation.
Concern flashes in your eyes, "Of course I'm okay– I'm more than okay with that, Jason. I love you, tights or not."
He lets out a laugh, and his stomach swoops, the tension dissipating throughout his body, "Yeah?"
You grin at him, cupping his face, "Yeah, but you're going to have to show me how you swing around rooftops."
He gets off his knees to kiss you again, he doesn't think this moment could get any better, "Is that all?"
You giggle, at the pure elation in his eyes, and he grins widely at your joy. Then, the moment does get better, "Well, I'm kinda interested in the car Batman drives around you."
"I could make that happen," he murmurs, and seals the promise with another kiss, "You wanna see the batplane too?"
Your eyes light up, and Jason thinks he might be addicted to the mischievous glint that flickers in your gaze.
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reiderwriter · 1 month
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I'm Your Fluffer!
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader (best friends to lovers)
For @imagining-in-the-margins FWB Challenge!
Prompt: "I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." "Do you want the benefits?" "Yes- No... I'm your fluffer!" (Inspired by New Girl) (yes, I suggested this prompt, bo idc if that's cheating)
Warnings: Mentions of BDSM, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, choking, mentions of spanking, and butt worship, slight Dom Spencer, bratty reader, creampie. The classics, yk.
A/N: I'm back!!!! I took a break because I couldn't bring myself to even look at a word document for about a month, but there's nothing like a Pom challenge to get me writing again! I did have a lot planned for my 1 year anniversary, but because I was sick, and then busy, and then work got hectic, I had to put it off. I still am going to try to finish my kink bingo Carr, though, even though its a month late, but I had two fics left iirc, and I have both of them plotted, so I may as well! I will, however, be abandoning the final epilogue of I Can't Help Myself, because I wrote myself into a depressed corner with that one, and honestly, some people were getting very pushy about it, and it wasn't fun anymore. Anyway! This one was fun to write, so I'm going to stick to one shots for the foreseeable future, or incredibly limited series.
Masterlist
Spencer was your friend. A good friend. Your best friend, perhaps. A really good, very best friend.
Obviously, you were good friends because he always knew when you were feeling down. He bought you flowers regularly when he passed by flower shops. He came over to your place and helped you build every piece of flatpack furniture you had, which, as a single woman in your mid-twenties, was every piece of furniture that you owned.
You really looked forward to the movie nights the two of you had weekly. The popcorn, the blankets, the cuddling, his lips by your ear, in-time translating the foreign movies word for word as you watched it, the shivers down your spine as you pressed further into the heat of him.
Spencer was the best best friend you could ask for.
He was also the most frustrated.
“Kid, what are you doing this weekend? I'm thinking of hitting some clubs, you know, getting my groove on, maybe meeting A few ladies,” Morgan smirked, rubbing his hands together as he gently moved side to side, already dancing to himself as he anticipated his big weekend out. “You in, or are you in?”
“I can't. I promised Y/N I'd help her with some document digitalisation. We're going to order pizza and watch Star Trek while backing up her entire paper trail.”
The smile on Spencer's face was so stupid that Morgan had to stop himself from wiping it off of him immediately.
“Man, you are so down bad for that girl,” he mused, shaking his head.
“What? Down bad?”
“You like her. It's okay to admit it.”
“We're friends. I'm happy being friends,” Spencer said, picking up his bag and walking to the elevator desperate to escape a repeat of a conversation he'd already had three times that week.
“You know everyone thinks you're dating.”
“Well aware. Despite the number of times we've both stated to the contrary, people don't seem to accept ‘we're just friends’ when they hear it.”
“That may be because you're doing things that just friends don't do.”
“Everything we do is totally platonic.”
“You buy her flowers-
“I buy my mother flowers,” Spencer said, turning on the man and raising his hands in exasperation.
“You know that's different. Do you buy Emily flowers?”
Silence.
“What about JJ?”
“I bought JJ flowers!” He grinned triumphantly until the other man spoke again.
“When she was in the hospital. Giving birth. Okay, what about the movie nights?”
Rolling his eyes, the younger man walked on, pressing the bell for the elevator and allowing his friend to keep bothering him.
“Friends watch movies together, Morgan. We've watched movies together, are we dating?”
“One, you are not my type, pretty boy, and two, you didn't exactly have your dick pressed against my ass the entire time we watched a film now, did you?”
“Be q- be quiet. I don't have my dick against her ass ever.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, was it pressed against her stomach instead? I know she likes to lie on top of-”
“Derek!”
The elevator arrived, and the two quickly jumped in, to Spencer's relief.
“All I'm saying, kid, is-”
“Hold the elevator!” You shouted, running to it quickly with Penelope Garcia on your heels.
“Thanks, Spence!” You said, smiling at him as you entered the small space.
And continued your not too unsimilar conversation with Penelope.
“So, as I was saying Penelope,” you shot her a look that told her you were finished with the conversation. You were not dating Spencer Reid, and you were unlikely to in the future because of his total and complete lack of interest in you.
“You can set me up this weekend, right? It's been an age since I've been on a date, and I would really like to-” you glanced around the elevator and whispered the end of your sentence, suddenly mindful of your company. “You know.”
“If you're absolutely sure, I have a few men in mind that could throw you about, but-”
You squealed and squeezed the woman as the elevator landed on your floor and jumped out of the elevator quickly, cheeks burning.
“Thanks, Pen, you're the best!”
“Y/N, wait,” Spencer called out behind you, desperately holding the elevator open for a few more seconds.
“I thought we were doing your papers this weekend? Star trek, pizza, remember?”
You stared guiltily at the floor as you forced your voice to sound as casual as possible, not sure you could make any excuse that didn't sound pathetic.
“Oh, sorry, Spencer. I totally forgot. We can rain check, right? I… I really need this.”
Spencer was aware of what disappointment felt like, but it never hollowed out his chest like your lack of eye contact in that moment did.
“Yeah. Sure, of course. We can do that whenever.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Spencer. You're the best… friend.”
He smiled and let the door finally shut, aware of the two sets of eyes now watching him.
It took a surprisingly long time for the ‘I told you so’ to come, but come it did, as if Morgan were unable to help himself.
“You're telling me that you're not into her at all?”
“I'm…not into her like that at all.”
“And you're fine with me setting her up on a date with a man that'll do somewhat empowering, somewhat disgusting things with her?” Penelope piled on.
“What? That's…that's not my business,” he ground out.
“No. Of course it’s not. Because you're not her boyfriend.”
“Exactly, I'm not her boyfriend-”
“You're her fluffer.”
With a pat on the shoulder, the elevator hit its last stop, and Morgan exited, leaving Spencer scrambling after him as Penelope waved the two of them off.
“What? No, what's a fluffer?”
Morgan chuckled and waved him off, walking to his car.
“Come on, what's a fluffer, and why am I hers?”
“You've seen porn before, right?” The older man asked, pausing as he opened his driver side door. “Actually don't answer that. The fluffer is the person who keeps the actors and actresses… ready between takes. Prepares them for the good stuff.”
With a bright flush across his cheeks, Spencer tried his best for an indignant look, landing somewhat closer to a petulant child.
“I am not her fluffer. We have never-”
“I know you've never. If you had, we wouldn't be standing here right now having this conversation. What I'm saying is you should.”
“We're friends!”
Climbing into the car and closing the door, Morgan dismissed the younger man quickly, but he wasn't finished.
Knocking on the door, Spencer waiting a beat, then two for it to open again.
“I'm not her fluffer.”
“You build her furniture and cuddle with her. You're doing everything a boyfriend would do, without any of the boyfriend rewards.”
“What rewards?” he gasped, exasperated.
A single look was all the reply he got before Morgan out his keys into the ignition and started driving.
Spencer never made the decision to turn up at your house later that night. He just found himself all of a sudden at your front door on a Friday night, pulling out the key from the plant pot by the front door and letting himself in. Unlocking his shoes, he called out through the apartment, letting you know he was there as he slipped into the house shoes you'd bought him after the first of many movie nights.
“Spencer? We cancelled earlier, remember?” you said emerging from your bedroom, fitted in the tightest dress he'd ever seen you in. He already had no answer for your question, but seeing you like that, getting ready, he had no answer to any question at all. If you'd have asked him his name, he wouldn't have known it.
Well, he would've, but only because you'd said it only three seconds ago and had reminded him that he was, in fact, standing in your apartment when he should've been literally anywhere else.
“Um. I'm…I'm just-” he scratched the back of his neck, waiting for something to come to him.
“Spencer, I'm leaving in like an hour, so there's no time to watch a movie, and I have to get ready, so-”
“I'm… I'm angry?”
You raised an eyebrow at his questioning tone, unsure where this conversation was going.
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah..yes. I'm sure. I'm angry. We, we had plans, and you gave me like an hours notice and cancelled them to go do something stupid-”
“Spencer! I'm going on a date. That's not stupid.”
“It is when you have me!”
He half shouted, half murmured the words, as if he himself were unsure of how confident he was in making that statement.
“That came out wrong-”
“Yeah, I think it did.”
“What I mean is- I mean…Morgan said that-”
You crossed your arms and sat yourself on the arm of your sofa, looking forward at him and waiting for him to get through whatever this was. You hoped the entire time that he was saying what you'd wanted him to say for the last year and a half.
“Have you ever watched porn?”
Not what you were hoping for, but a start, at least.
“Spencer!”
“That came out wrong, I- don't throw the couch cushions at me. I have a point, I swear!”
You lowered your next projectile and gestured for him to go on, not fully relinquishing it just yet.
“I'm your fluffer! I get you…in the mood for dates, and- and- I do all the boyfriend stuff without any of the boyfriend benefits!”
He stood in front of you, red-faced, and you stared him down a second or two as you collected your thoughts.
“Do you…want the boyfriend benefits?”
“Yes! No, wait - wait a second. I- I- What are the boyfriend benefits exactly?”
You threw the pillow down and turned your back on him, not entirely sure what you were expecting from the most oblivious genius on the planet.
“Y/N, wait. Wait-”
With a hand wrapped around your wrist, Spencer spun you around, and, tripping over your feet, you landed hard on your sofa. Your fall should've been relatively pain-free, but for the 6-foot man that landed directly on top of you.
“Get up.”
“What are the boyfriend benefits?”
“You should know if you're saying you want them! Now, get up!”
“Not until you tell me.”
“Spencer!”
“Y/N!”
You groaned and writhed under him, but he just dropped his weight onto you, unmoving, hands pinning your wrists lazily, leg poking between your two, hips pinning yours.
It certainly wasn't the closest you'd ever been, but in those circumstances, during that conversation, you felt more flustered than you had before.
“What are the benefits.”
“You really want me to say? You're not afraid it's going to throw off our friendship, ruin whatever good thing we have going?”
“I think that if you go out tonight, and enjoy your date, and get a boyfriend, that he's going to feel weird about this good thing we have going and it's going to be over anyway. Tell me.”
You desperately searched for a way out of this situation, but a stronger part of you wanted to simply wrap your legs around him and let him take as much advantage as he could.
You settled for disturbing him.
“Fine. A boyfriend would be able to spank me.”
“Y/N, be serious.”
“I am. I like it. A boyfriend would pull my hair back and make me count as he hit my cute round ass until it turned all red, and I couldn't sit down comfortably anymore. A boyfriend would then kiss it better.”
You'd never spoken about sex with Spencer, and you hoped the vulgarity would force him back to his senses. Instead, he didn't stir, and you had no choice but to continue.
“Another boyfriend benefit would be choking me. I like that, too. Are your hands big enough to wrap around my throat, Spencer?”
“Yes.”
The answer came so quickly and do confidently, you weren't sure you actually heard it outlook until he spoke again.
“What other benefits, Y/N?”
“A… boyfriend would get to cum inside me,” you whispered, suddenly aware of hips rocking into yours slowly as his cock poked up, listening intently to the promises spilling from your lips that you likely should've regretted.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I want the benefits.”
Your body was hot everywhere he touched you, but he didn't move, didn't follow through on anything just yet. But you were aware of his head moving closer and closer to yours and panicked.
“And what have you done? As my fluffer? To deserve those benefits?”
“What have I done?” He asked, pulling back an inch. Even as his chest rested, flush against yours, your breasts pushed up against him as his hands held yours over your head.
“I-I bought you flowers-”
“Emily buys me flowers, too. So does Penelope. Should I let them be my boyfriend?”
With your hands in use, you took advantage of his distraction and wrapped your legs up and around his waist, rolling your hips up into him.
“I suppose I do like flowers, though. What else?”
“I… We're always t-together?”
“We work together.”
Using the leverage of his weight against yours, you rolled up harder into his hips, grinding into him slowly as you watched his resolve melt away.
“The m-movie nights are-”
“The movie nights where you rut your cock into me while we watch a movie? Friends do that all the time. You're just translating the movie for me after all.”
“Y/N, please don't-”
“Don't say that? Okay. I'll just let someone else hump against my thighs to get off because you're too proud to admit you want to sink your dick into me and pound me?”
“Y/N-”
“Maybe that's why you don't have the boyfriend privileges, Spencer. Because I'm waiting for something, you're too much of a prude to try-”
His lips meet yours before you can finish the thought, and you're not sure whether it's a triumph or a defeat.
After precisely five seconds of his lips on yours, though, you no longer cared.
Releasing your hands gently, he lifted his hips an inch, distracting you enough to force his tongue into your mouth as his hand found its way between your legs.
“Did you really mean it?” He asked between kisses as you rake your hands through his hair, getting lost in him. “About the benefits?”
You allowed yourself to imagine it for a second, Spencer's hands on your throat. His hands on your ass. His mouth buried between your legs.
You moaned into his kiss, and he laughed - actually laughed - as he pulled away.
“Spencer!”
“No, no, please, don't let me keep you from your thoughts, I'll just be down here.”
His fingers reached your clit and he wasn't surprised to find you already wet, legs spread. Snaking another hand to your neck though, he wasn't exactly as opposed to the ideas you'd flung at him as he'd acted.
You gasped as his hand closed around your neck, the prettiest necklace you'd ever worn. You grabbed a hold of his hands as he pulled your underwear off, pushing them down your legs as he gently pushed your legs open wider and replaced his fingers with his tongue.
You curled up on yourself, craving your body to watch him devour your pussy as you tried your best to keep your breaths shallow, to keep breathing entirely as he squeezed your throat.
His tongue licked and flattened, his head bobbing up and down and then stilling as your hips began moving by themselves, letting you ride his face as you moaned and whined and desperately ran towards your climax.
You wrapped a leg around his shoulder, pressing down on his back to keep him in position, grabbing a handful of hair as you jerked against his face, fucking it as he looked up at you through hooded eyes, drinking down every drop of you.
His hold on your neck tightened, and you felt your body shudder as you squeaked out his name, not wanting this to end so soon, needing to feel more of this. He let you ride it out until you were whining in frustration again, hips twitching from the friction of his tongue against your cunt.
Then he pushed away.
He wasn't gone long, but you followed him up. You thought about pushing him down to the couch again, thought about sitting on his pretty boy face and doing it all over again. You thought of turning over and presenting your ass to him, letting him punish you like you'd promised. Your thoughts ceased as quickly as they came when he pulled his cock free of his pants, not even bothering to pull them off fully before pulling you into his lap, lining himself up, and pushing you down onto his hot, hard, lengthy cock.
You swear you would've screamed if his to guess hadn't already claimed your mouth. A good scream. A “holy shit holy shit holy shit” scream. Definitely a “I didn't know it was that big, and honestly I'm a little scared” scream. But overall, a “god that feels so good” scream.
From the lack of movement, you were sure that Spencer was giving you a moment to adjust to his intrusion, and you were thankful as you clung to his neck, hands balling in the material of his shirt on his back.
Although he was bigger than expected, he wasn't uncomfortably large, and you calmed quickly, giving him a quick nod as you buried yourself in his neck, hiding your face to stop yourself from drooling, mouth wide as he tipped you back against the couch pillows, lifting your legs slightly and slipping his hands underneath yous thighs, and began his steady pace of thrusts.
You were sure your world was imploding on itself, that all your senses had ceased except that of touch, and his touch was fire. But you heard the wet, slutty sounds of your pussy welcoming him, you smelt the sweat against his skin, and, opening your eyes, you saw the absolute pleasure blasted against his features as he groaned in your ear.
And before you could form another coherent thought, he'd claimed another boyfriend benefit, as, rocking his hips against yours, he slowed to a stutter as he emptied himself inside you.
“Spencer!!” you moaned, but he wasn't done, spitting on his fingers and finding your clit again as you squealed, twitching and turning and milling his cock with your movements as you found your second release.
You moaned his name again, though it sounded less like his name this time, and more like a definite noise complaint from your neighbours in the morning.
“Spencer?” you asked, still trying to regain your breath as he, once again, collapsed on top of you.
“Mhmm,” he said, slowly pulling out of you, watching the mess you'd made together drip out too, and resisting the urge to push right back into you and go again.
“Was that a friendly fuck, or a boyfriend fuck?”
His eyes snapped to yours again as you continued.
“I just want to give Penelope the correct reason for cancelling on her friend when I text her-”
“I came inside you.”
“So you did.”
“Y/N!”
“.... So that wasn't a fluffer thing, but a boyfriend thing, got i-”
With a kiss, he shut you up again, and you realized quickly that you probably wouldn't have the time to send that text anyway.
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eddiesxangel · 2 months
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The Nanny | E.M x f!reader
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Anon requested :I have an idea for a smut for Eddie. Okay, so the reader is like a babysitter for Eddie, so the reader takes a video of playing with Eddie’s kid and sends it to him. When Eddie watches the video, however, Eventually, his eyes are only on the reader; he becomes attracted to the reader and gets stiff. But the reader did this on purpose for that reason, and so when Eddie gets home, his kid is asleep, and it’s just him and the reader, and they start to get intimate, and one thing leads to another …
Wc: 2.9k
Cw: smut, oral (f&m receving), p in v, unprotected sex, pull and pray
When you got the job about a year ago, you were out of school and desperate for a full-time job to pay the bills. You saw his ad for a live-in Nanny in the paper and jumped at the opportunity.
When you started this nannying business, you never thought you would fall for the handsome dad who hired you.
The family you learned was a father and daughter. Eddie was a widower. His wife had died five years previously, and he had a seven-year-old little girl.
Eddie was a dedicated manager and owner of a construction company in town. His hours were unpredictable, so he asked for your help getting his daughter, Charlotte, ready for school in the early mornings and picking her up. To accommodate your assistance, Eddie has constructed a small house in his backyard for you to stay in, providing you with your own space.
During the year you spent with Charlotte, you formed a deep bond with her, and she became your favourite person. You both shared numerous activities, such as shopping, getting your nails done, having sleepovers, and attending her dance classes.
You supported her at every recital and never missed her soccer games, even when Eddie couldn't attend. Your time with Charlotte became an irreplaceable part of your life.
Your relationship with Eddie grew as the year went on. You became more attracted to him. He was so charming, funny, and handsome. He made you feel welcomed like you were part of the family—the family you wished was real.
Eddie has been away for the last few days; he will be home this evening, but you still wanted to send him some updates about Charlotte. You sent him a video of you guys at the community pool. She loved swimming, and you couldn’t help but want to flirt. Did you wear this specific bathing suit so he would see it? Yes. You can’t help but want to get his attention, to have him look at you the way you look at him.
You were on the splash pad, and thought it would be cute to show a video of you and Charlotte running through the sprinkler. You set up your phone against the wall for balance and click record. You and her squealed as the water was cold on your bare skin. You were smiling and laughing together the whole time. You hoped Eddie found it cute…
Eddie was in the airport lounge when he received a notification on his phone. He smiled when he saw that your contact had disrupted his podcast.
He paused his show and swiped to see what you had sent him. The video began with a scene of Charlotte, soaked and jumping up and down, with her two missing front teeth visible. Eddie smirked at the sight. He loved his baby; he missed her so much. The video continues, and when you come into the shot, his eyes widen as he watches you run toward Charlotte. His eyes can't help but stare. Your ass bounced as you ran back towards his daughter; your tight bathing suit clung to your every curve. The sight of your body so exposed, your wet skin glistening in the sun, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his excitement start to grow.
You giggled and laughed as you picked her up and ran with her through the water. Your smile was so genuine, and Eddie hated that he had developed an attraction to you other than liking your personality.
When the video finished, you sent another text, but this time, it was not what Eddie had expected. When he clicked back to the chat, he almost dropped his phone because he was so shocked. Right under the wholesome video of you and Charlotte was a picture of you lying on your bed, hand draped across your naked chest.
He was looking around. To make sure nobody else saw what he was looking at, he opened the photo, and he could see more of your bare skin than he ever thought possible.
Flustered and confused, Eddie didn’t know what to make of this. Did you mean to send it by accident? Was this meant for someone else? The thought of it supposed to be for someone else sent a pang of jealousy through Eddie’s chest.
The overhead speaker saying the fight Eddie was supposed to be boarding was what snapped him out of his thoughts. The whole flight would feel extra long now that this would be all Eddie would think about. He couldn’t get home fast enough.
Eddie never replied to your video and didn’t respond to the picture you decided to take for him. You’re unsure what came over you, but you wanted a clear message. You didn’t think the video would do anything, so you got bold.
You started to regret your decision about the picture. Maybe you will lose your job. Perhaps you could play it off as an accident, pretending you didn’t know you had sent it to him.
It didn’t matter because it had been hours, and Eddie would be home any minute.
Trying to ignore the feeling of panic by distracting yourself by cooking dinner, you hear the front door click open.
“Honey, I’m home,” Eddie’s deep voice rings through the front hallway. Your stomach turns upside down at the sound of his voice.
“In here,” you try to keep your voice calm. Maybe he hasn’t seen it yet.
“Daddy!” Charlotte leaps off the kitchen chair and charges her way to her father. He’s been gone three days, the longest he has ever been away.
“Hi, handsome.” You smile as Eddie makes an appearance with Charlotte in his arms.
“H-hi,” he stutters, and his cheeks are a rose pink. He totally saw the photos.
“Dinner is almost ready,” you say, turning back to the stove, trying to hide your awkwardness about what you’ve done.
Eddie cleared his throat and took a seat as though nothing had happened. However, his mind was racing. He wanted to discuss it with you but didn’t know how to approach the situation.
Dinner was okay. You both tried to ignore the elephant in the room for Charlotte’s sake. You asked him questions about the trip, and he asked what you guys got up to. You let Charlotte do most of the talking. She eventually got bored and asked to watch a movie with both of you.
The tension could be cut with a knife as you and Eddie stole glances at one another while Charlotte was obviously enthralled by the princess singing about love in the big flatscreen.
After another hour and a half of torture, Charlotte passed out on her father’s shoulder. He smirks and says he’s putting her to bed and you stand to clean up the mess that was left in the kitchen after dinner.
A few minutes after watching the dishes, Eddie returns to the kitchen.
“You don’t have to clean; you’ve been on the clock for three days straight; I can take over. You sit and have a drink, relax.” He approaches you from behind.
“I don’t mind; youve been travelling all day; it’s my job to take care of you.” You look over your shoulder to see Eddie much closer than you thought.
“No, it’s your job to take care of Charlotte.” He raises a brow.
“What if I like taking care of you?” you drop the clean fork into the right side of the sink with all the other clean dishes.
“Sweetheart, about that…”
“Yes?” You turn excitedly.
“I um-you- I saw something.” Eddie didn’t know how to approach this. He sees you looking at him with hopeful eyes as you bite your lip. His heart fluttered in his chest when he saw the look on your face.
“I wanted you to see it.” You boldly admit.
“You- uh? What sweetheart?.” He asked, dumbfounded.
“Did you like it?” You take a small step forward, testing the waters.
Eddie visibly tenses. He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be attracted to his kids’ nanny, but he’s also only a man—a man who has been crushing on you like he was back in high school.
“This is wrong”
“Why? It didn’t have to be?” You trail a flirtatious finger down his chest.
Eddie inhales sharply, and he can’t help his attraction to you take over.
“Because you’re you, and I’m your boss-“
“Charlotte is my boss,” you giggle and bat your eyes.
“Sweetheart,” he sighs.
“Eddie, I don’t want to keep pretending that there isn’t something between us. I can’t pretend any longer.”
“Sweetheart…”
“Please tell me it’s not just all in my head. All those late nights after we put Charlotte to bed, how we seek one another out even if Charlotte is not around, I see the way you look at me.”
Your face and Eddie’s were mere inches apart. Your lips were so close that Eddie was leaning in against his better judgment, but he wanted you so badly. You were right; there was an undeniable connection between the two of you, and Eddie didn’t want to ignore it either.
“Please, tell me I’m not crazy,” you whispered.
“You’re anything but sweetheart,” Eddie whispered back before closing the gap between you.
His soft lips formed with yours like they were made to be together.
You wrapped your hands around Eddie’s neck, pulling him in closer.
The sensation of his mouth on you went straight to your core. You needed him so badly.
Naturally, you slid your hands down his torso, up under his shirt, signalling for him to take it off; you needed to feel his skin; you kissed him like it was the last time you ever would kiss him.
You slid your hands down to his belt buckle, undoing it at a speed that wasn’t fast enough.
“Please, Eddie, I need you; let me make you feel good.”
“Sweetheart, you can’t just say things like that to me.” Eddie groans.
“Please, I need this; I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t-” You both were so desperate, his pants couldn’t come off fast enough.
With a soft thwap, his jeans hit the kitchen floor, and you sink down to your knees.
“Fuck sweetheart, you look so beautiful like this.” he grips your chin before slipping his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on.
You slide your tongue along his rough, working hands, and he watches with lust burning in his eyes. You pop his thumb out of your mouth and replace it with the head of his cock. His thick shaft was heavy in your grip as you took more of him while not breaking eye contact. The weight of his cock resting in your mouth made you drool.
“Fuuuuuck, good girl.” Eddie’s breath became erratic.
Your eyes started watering as you tried taking him all the way down your throat, but Eddie was big.
Your breathing became shallow, but you were in heaven.
“You ok, sweetheart?” He’s looking down at you, a hand cupped on the back of your head, trying to resist the urge to thrust into your mouth as he hits the back of your throat.
You bob your head back slowly as you nod yes. You were finally able to catch your breath, drool coming out of your mouth as you pumped his cock in and out of your slick mouth.
Eddie couldn’t believe this was happening; not twelve hours ago, he was in a different state, jacking off to this fantasy of you on your knees.
He pulled you back up to kiss him, your pussy was throbbing, and the pulse that went directly to your clit was screaming for attention.
Moaning your name Eddie pushed you back so your ass was against the kitchen island, and you saw the hunger in his eyes.
He helps you jump onto the white marble countertop with quick hands.
“Baby, please.” An involuntary whimper came from your mouth, and he went in for another kiss, hands roaming from your inner thigh up until it reached your pussy.
“Oh baby,” he said the second he truly felt how wet you were for him.
Kissing down your neck, leaving purple bruises in his wake, not giving a care in the world right now about visible hickeys, he crept lower and lower until he was kneeling between your legs, forcing your knees open.
He stared into your heat.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He spoke, not breaking eye contact with your wet pussy.
He leaned in; he started with soft kitten licks to your clit with the tip of his tongue, gentle and delicate, before he took long deep strokes off his tongue, tasting every inch of you. Eddie moaned at your tase; he wanted to consume you, to make you feel so good you forget about every man before him.
The tickle of his beard was grounding you. This was actually happening.
“Oh!” You cry but quickly cup your hand over your mouth, remembering Char was upstairs.
With Eddie’s face pressed into your cunt your orgasm was quickly approaching. You couldn’t resist it anymore; your hips started gyrating into his face, and you needed more.
“Eddie, please,” you whimpered.
“You want more, sweetheart?” he pulls away and replaced his mouth with his index finger, slowly stroking up and down your weeping slit.
“Yes, Eddie, please.”
“That’s my good girl, asking so nicely,” he said, grinning up at you before standing.
With his hard cock in hand, he rubbed his tip up and down your slit gathering your juices so he could split into you nice and easy.
At this point, you were so turned on you couldn’t think, moaning out as he slowly stretched you open, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Inch by inch, the pleasure mixed with the burn of the stretch was so good, too good.
“That’s it, sweetheart, fuckin’ taking me so well.” He slipped inside of you until you felt the tickle of his pubes against your clit.
You hadn’t even realized he was talking to you, cock drunk off the feeling you were so close, and he hardly started.
Incoherent muffled moans filled the empty kitchen as Eddie's cock quickly started to pump in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot on each thrust.
You didn’t stand a chance, as he had your legs over your shoulders, ankles rolling. He gripped the backs of your calves to hold your legs as wide as they could go.
With each thrust, the pleasure became more and more, your back arching up into the feeling of him filling you up.
The feeling in your belly started to build until he unexpectedly pulled you off the counter, walked you over to the couch, and flipped you so you were on all fours.
Once you were spread open for him, he started thrusting harder.
“Oh god! There! Please don’t stop!” You screamed into the couch cushions.
It was so good your hands gave out, your cheek pressing into the brown leather, only making your ass stick out more for him.
He spreads your cheeks to watch how your greedy pussy swollen his cock each time.
A slap comes down hard on your ass as he pounds into you; you moan out with pleasure. Another smack on the other cheek to even things out.
He’s going at a pace that makes your head spin; his fingers gripped into your hips so rough you’re sure there will be bruising tomorrow.
The noises that are coming out of you are inhuman; you don’t even recognize yourself; he was so big, you were so full, it was too good. 
“shhhhhh, sweetheart, we need to be quiet.” He wraps a hand around your face to cup your mouth to muffle the moans, but that only makes it hotter, so you cry about again. You couldn’t talk; each thrust was getting deeper and deeper at the angle he was holding you in.
Each thrust was building up the coil in your stomach. You were so close when he started rubbing your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m close,” you seethe through gritted teeth.
“Come, sweetheart, come on my cock.” You were already seeing stars before he finished talking; your body shook, clenching down so tight on his cock while your orgasm filled your body.
“Oh god, yes, baby, milk this cock so good” Your pussy gripped down so hard on his cock that he almost wasn’t able to pull out in time.
You feel his warm seed on your back as his orgasm shoots through him.
Dazed and all fucked out, you roll over to see Eddie beaming down at you after he cleaned you up a little bit.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Eyes glazed over, you manage a
“Hi,” you giggle.
You curled into his neck, leaving soft kisses and kitten licks; you couldn’t help yourself; your boyfriend was just so hot. 
“I think we have a lot of catching up to do,” he throws you over his shoulder. “Eddie, put me down,” you giggle, getting a full view of his bare ass in front of your face. He runs you to his bedroom; you know it is going to be a long night. 
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yanderenightmare · 2 months
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TW: stalking, hidden cameras
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The prospect of a stalker watching me in my own home through countless security cameras is objectively funny and utterly mortifying at the same time.
Like, what do you mean this guy is watching me make the greasiest grilled cheese in the frying pan with utterly way too much butter and cheese while dancing to anime bangers in my underwear—yelling as I get burnt by the sizzling butter in between singing the lyrics at the top of my lungs—every other syllable incorrect as I do not at all speak Japanese whatsoever.
What do you mean he’s watching me go through all my clothes one by one at midnight to try and put together an outfit for tomorrow, only to wear something completely different come morning—leaving a mess on the floor—which I don’t clean up before the very end of the week.
What do you mean he’s just watched me put on a full face of make-up just to go grocery shopping, only to come back a brief fifteen minutes later with a haul that consists purely of bread, milk, and eggs—muttering to himself that I forgot the toothpaste whilst watching me rage and refuse to go back out—rather wrestling with the old tube instead, calling out in victory to no one in particular once I manage to squeeze one last dosage out.
What do you mean he’s watching me binge a new anime I just discovered in one sitting—barely eating, only drinking coffee with a spoonful of cacao—only to binge-watch my favorite My Hero episodes again for the second time that month, and then rewatch the entirety of Haikyu!!
What do you mean he’s watching me drink a six-pack of beers or a whole bottle of wine on my own as I spend my day cleaning the apartment, getting distracted by all my stuff every other minute, burning through all my playlists until my speaker runs out of battery and I’m reminded that oh, it’s the middle of the night. But since my bed is full of the stuff I’ve yet to put back in its place, I make do on the couch and say good night as if speaking to him, even when I’m just saying it to the apartment.
And what do you mean he’s watching me search up the foulest shit online or watching me touch myself to the literal words of a Tumblr script. 
Like, Mr. Stalker, sir, seriously? Get a life.
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 months
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Throw A Tantrum
Mafia Boss!Lizzie Olsen x fem!reader
Summary: Lizzie won't stop asking you to marry her, it's become a game between you two now, but when Lizzie doesn't handle a situation right you blow off and go on a little shopping trip with her card
Word Count: 1.6K
Warnings: Lizzie and you have an argument
A/N: This is based off of this post
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You always knew there was something different about Lizzie. Growing up together in the quiet suburbs, she always had this aura of command around her, even as kids. But you never imagined that one day she would become the head of the mafia, and you certainly didn't expect her to want to marry you.
Living with Lizzie in her sprawling, luxurious penthouse was an experience in itself. The place was a stark contrast to your childhood homes, filled with top-of-the-line furnishings and an almost intimidating level of sophistication. But despite the opulence, there were small touches that made it feel like home—photos of the two of you over the years, your favorite books on the shelves, and the cozy blanket you always curled up with draped over the back of the couch.
One evening, you were curled up on that very couch, reading a book, when Lizzie strolled into the living room. She leaned against the doorframe, her presence both comforting and intimidating, a paradox you had come to accept.
"Marry me," Lizzie said, for the hundredth time, her tone half-serious, half-teasing. Her dark green eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked at you.
"No," you replied with a smirk, not even looking up from your book. It was a ritual between you two by now, a game you both enjoyed. Despite your refusals, Lizzie never stopped asking, and you never stopped saying no, but it was all part of the dance you two shared.
"You know," Lizzie began, walking over to sit next to you on the couch, "you'd make a perfect mafia queen. You've got the attitude for it."
"And you have the persistence of a stalker," you shot back, finally meeting her gaze. Her eyes softened, a look that made your heart race.
"I just know what I want," Lizzie said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "And I always get what I want."
You rolled your eyes, though the fluttering in your chest was hard to ignore. "You can't just go around deciding people's lives for them, Lizzie."
"Maybe not everyone," she conceded, a sly smile playing on her lips, "but you? You're different."
"Different how?" you challenged, leaning in slightly.
"Different as in, you're already my wife in every way that matters," she said softly, her fingers grazing your cheek. "I spoil you, protect you, and love you more than anything in this world."
Your heart skipped a beat at her words. Despite your playful refusals, you were deeply in love with Lizzie. You just couldn't admit it out loud, not when her life was filled with danger and uncertainty. But every touch, every glance she gave you made it harder to resist her.
"You're delusional," you teased, trying to keep the mood light, but your voice betrayed your true feelings.
"Maybe," she whispered, her lips now inches from yours, "but I wouldn't have it any other way."
Before you could respond, she closed the gap, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. It was a kiss that spoke of years of friendship, unspoken feelings, and a future you were too scared to embrace.
When she finally pulled away, you were breathless, your resolve crumbling.
"One day," Lizzie murmured, her forehead resting against yours, "you'll say yes."
"Maybe," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But until then, enjoy the chase."
Lizzie chuckled, pulling you into her arms. "Oh, I am, darling. I am."
And as you nestled into her embrace, surrounded by the familiarity of your shared home, you knew that no matter how much you teased or resisted, Lizzie would always be there, loving you in her own fierce, unwavering way.
================
Lizzie's penthouse had five bedrooms, each more lavish than the last. Yet, from the moment you moved in, Lizzie had insisted that you share her bedroom. "For your protection," she'd said, her tone brooking no argument. You had reluctantly agreed, knowing that her insistence came from a place of love and concern.
One night, after a particularly trying day, you found yourself lying in bed with Lizzie. The room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over the plush bedding and elegant décor. Lizzie's arms were wrapped around you, her hands roaming over your back in a soothing, familiar pattern. Her lips found yours, and you melted into the kiss, feeling a mixture of love and frustration.
You loved these moments and hated them all in one breath. The intimacy, the warmth of her touch, the way she made you feel safe and cherished—it was intoxicating. But it also made you painfully aware of how much you wanted to submit, to be hers completely. And that terrified you.
Lizzie's kisses grew more passionate, her hands exploring with a hunger that mirrored your own. You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in her hair as you deepened the kiss. Yet, in the back of your mind, a voice whispered that you couldn't allow yourself to fully give in. Not when her life was filled with danger and uncertainty.
When she finally pulled away, her eyes searched yours, as if seeking answers to unspoken questions. "What are you thinking?" she asked softly, her breath warm against your skin.
You hesitated, struggling to find the words. "I... I love you, Lizzie. You know that. But I can't—"
"Shh," she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You don't have to explain. I understand."
And she did. Lizzie knew your fears, your doubts, and the reasons behind your resistance. She respected them, even if it meant enduring the ache of unfulfilled longing.
"I just want you to know that I'm here," Lizzie whispered, her fingers brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. "Whenever you're ready, I'll be here."
You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. Nestling closer to her, you allowed yourself to bask in the comfort of her embrace, even if just for a little while longer.
=================
It started out as a minor disagreement, something trivial about the way Lizzie handled a situation with one of her lieutenants. But, as things often did with the two of you, it quickly escalated.
“You never listen to me, Lizzie!” you shouted, frustration boiling over. “You just do whatever you want, without considering how it affects others!”
Lizzie’s eyes narrowed, her calm demeanor cracking just a bit. “I always listen to you. But sometimes, there are things you don’t understand about my world.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” you retorted. “It’s your world, not ours. You always have to be in control.”
The argument continued to spiral until you stormed out, grabbing your keys and slamming the door behind you. You needed space, a chance to cool down and clear your head. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of retail therapy.
Hours passed, and you found yourself at the most luxurious boutiques in the city. Every swipe of your card felt like a small act of rebellion, a way to assert some control in a situation where you often felt powerless. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, anything and everything caught your eye.
Meanwhile, back at home, Lizzie was dealing with the aftermath of your fight. She knew she had pushed too hard, but her pride wouldn’t let her admit it. That is, until her phone rang.
“Miss Olsen,” the bank manager’s voice was cautious. “There’s been an unusual amount of spending on one of your accounts. We wanted to verify—”
“It’s fine,” Lizzie interrupted, a wry smile on her lips as she realized what you were doing. “Just my future wife throwing a tantrum.”
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a tentative, “Understood, Miss Olsen. Should we impose any limits?”
“No,” Lizzie said firmly. “Let her buy whatever she wants. She’ll come home eventually.”
And she was right. Laden with shopping bags and feeling a mix of satisfaction and guilt, you finally returned. Lizzie was waiting, her expression a blend of amusement and exasperation.
“Had fun?” she asked, eyeing the mountain of bags you set down.
“Immensely,” you replied, though your tone was softer now, the anger having dissipated.
Lizzie stepped closer, taking your hands in hers. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I do listen to you, and I do care about what you think. Sometimes I just get… carried away.”
You sighed, leaning into her touch. “I know. And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”
Lizzie pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you tightly. “It’s okay. Just promise me you won’t run off and bankrupt me every time we argue.”
You laughed, the sound muffled against her shoulder. “Deal. But only if you promise to actually listen.”
“Deal,” she echoed, pulling back to look into your eyes. “Now, let’s go through these bags and see what my future wife bought.”
As you sat together, sorting through your extravagant purchases, you took a deep breath and decided to take the plunge. "Lizzie," you started, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.
"Yes?" she looked up, her eyes full of curiosity and a hint of apprehension.
"Ask me again," you said softly.
Her brows furrowed for a moment before realization dawned on her face. A slow smile spread across her lips as she took your hands in hers once more. "Will you marry me?"
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Yes, Lizzie. I'll marry you."
Lizzie pulled you into a kiss, her arms tightening around you as if she never wanted to let go. And in that moment, surrounded by shopping bags and the remnants of a heated argument, you knew you had made the right decision. No matter the ups and downs, you were ready to face them together, as partners, as lovers, and now, as fiancées.
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cringe--is--dead · 1 month
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𝐵𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝒟𝒶𝓎
Various WBK boys x AFAB!reader (incl. Kiryuu, Kaji, Umemiya, Nirei, Sakura, Hiragi, Choji)
CW: cat-calling and objectification (none by the WBK boys), threats of violence (obvious)
𝑀𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓈…
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…𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒻𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉
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𝒦𝒾𝓇𝓎𝓊𝓊 𝑀𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓀𝒾
Your suits were matching— the same shade of blue, your bikini top accompanied by a little, pink blow between your breasts. Your boyfriend had taken you out shopping before the group summer trip, pulling out his wallet to buy several matching outfits before you could protest. You’d learned rather quickly that protesting was useless.
You were accustomed to some stares— Sakura turned a shade of red only he could turn when you took off your bathing suit cover, and Suo had teased the poor kid relentlessly. Some other stares, Kiryuu was realizing, you were oblivious to. The Furin boys were respectful, teenage boys, sure, but respectful.
The random teenagers and men staring at your body, not so much. Kiryuu, however, wasn’t the least bit worried.
“Darling,” You looked up questioningly at your boyfriend, pausing where you were rubbing sunscreen onto your arms, “Let me get your back.”
You smiled at him, and despite how long you two had been together felt your own cheeks warm slightly. You finished your arms, turning to lay on your front on your towel. He was gentle, warming up the sunscreen before applying it to your back, all but massaging it into your skin.
“How did I get so lucky?” His voice was teasing, fingertips dancing under the bikini string.
“Mitsuki,” You scolded, and he laughed.
Relaxing in your towel, you didn’t see that Kiryuu’s gaze wasn’t on you. One of the groups near you were growing rowdy, one of them louder than the rest. He had heard their conversation, lewd remarks about your body. He was quick to move, staking his claim subtly as he massaged the sunscreen onto your back.
The one that had moved, most likely to ask for your number or give you a stupid pick up line, had made the mistake of making eye contact with Kiryuu. He wasn’t Suo, but he knew he was intimidating.
One palm was flat against your lower back, dancing dangerously close to being too low. You hummed quietly, unaware of the silent stare down happening behind you. Kiryuu raised an eyebrow, waiting for the stranger to make his decision.
He seemed to think, before breaking eye contact, face curling into a scowl, before he turned back to his group.
“Mitsuki?” He was quick to smile, the soft look he reserved just for you returned, “Can we go in the water now?”
“Whatever you want, darling.”
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𝒦𝒶𝒿𝒾 𝑅𝑒𝓃
Kaji was starting to wish he had brought a whole pack of suckers, and based on the worried side eyes that were sent his way, he wasn’t alone on this. The only person who seemed oblivious to this, or just entirely too trusting, was you.
You, who was wearing one of the newest bikini sets you ordered from over states. You, who was hitting around an inflatable ball with some of his first years, laughing in the waves. You, who was drawing attention from way too many random guys around, loitering on their beach towels or wading in the water far too close.
He felt the familiar crunch of his current sucker, he was so zoned staring— glaring— that he didn’t realize until now it was a grape flavored one.
Gross.
He felt a tap on his shoulder, turning slightly to see Kusumi holding his screen towards him. It took a few seconds to see through the glare of the sun, but he finally saw the message.
you okay?
He could nod, could lie and say he’s fine— but this was Kusumi, bastard reads him almost as well as Hiragi. So instead he shrugged, rolling the candy stick in his mouth, already itching to grab another one.
His music was low, loud enough that the random chit chat didn’t make its way to him, but low enough that he could hear you or the others if he focused enough.
He was up on his feet in a flash, though, watching as a random volleyball splashed the water near you, far too close to have been a coincidence. Some random guy was waving, smile too big as he made his way over. He was all teeth, all but leering over you as you handed him his ball. You were being polite, but you were clearly trying to get him to leave.
Kusumi shot him a worried look, one that read somewhere between don’t make a scene and we’ll back you up if need be. In all honesty he was between those too.
But this was a trip, something fun for everyone, and if he swung first and started a beach brawl then the day would end early. So he instead made his way to the waters edge, the cool waves lapping at his feet as he watched.
You were trying to get back to whatever game you, Nirei and Kiryuu had been playing, and the man wasn’t taking the hint. Taking his headphones off, the loudness of the wind and waves crashed over him for a moment, before he regained his focus.
“Hey,” His voice was sharp, cutting through the one sided conversation easily.
You both turned, your face lighting up when you saw him, sweet voice calling out his name in excitement. You made your way out of the water towards him, and he briefly made eye contact with the two first years, sending a curt nod their way. They understood, backing off to their other friends.
“Can we go get ice cream?” You wrapped your arms around his bicep, pressing close to him.
In any other circumstance he’d have been rather flustered, you were pressed so close, he could feel the softness of your breasts, but he could also feel how fast your heart was hammering. He didn’t look down, eyes maintaining where they were staring down the unnamed man.
“Sure.”
The guy scoffed, arms crossing as if he were unimpressed by the display before him. Kaji cocked a brow, “Something the matter?”
He put his hands up, mock surrender, “No, nothing.” His tone was amused, as if goading Kaji to start something.
His fists were clenched at his side, jaw uncomfortably tense, and if the sucker had lasted any longer it definitely would have shattered.
The man seemed to grow uncomfortable, “Look dude, we were just chatting, alright? Nothing wrong with that.”
He just hummed in response, the noise low and unamused. You squeezed his arm gently, voice low, “Ren, it’s okay, I’m fine,” It took a second for him to look away, but when he glanced down at you, you smiled, small but genuine.
He stared for a moment, before sighing, “Yeah, whatever.”
You stepped away, gently tugging at his arm to follow you, and he moved, allowing you to maneuver him however you wanted. He didn’t spare another glance behind him, knowing full well that coward was going to go back to his group, spouting nonsense he could have easily knocked out of him.
You leaned your head against his shoulder, and as the rage died down in him, he felt the tips of his ears warm up, no doubt red now, “What?”
“Nothing,” You laughed quietly, “Just thankful I have my knight in shinning armor.”
He tisked, feigning annoyance at your statement. He’d never call himself a knight, that seemed too noble, too good.
“I’d kick his ass if he kept talking…”
You laughed louder this time, “I know. But I didn’t wanna let an asshole like that ruin our day.”
Not him, not Kaji ruin it by throwing a punch. He felt a bit of tension bleed out of him, your words simple but holding so much weight. The little ice cream parlor was near, and with you leaning against him, comfortable knowing that he’d protect you from unwanted advances, he felt more confident in his actions.
You trusted him to take care of not only himself, but you as well. To protect you should it come to that. And if you let him, gave him a sign, he’d beat anyone who even looked at you funny.
“Oh— should we get ice cream for the others?”
“Not unless they’re paying.”
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𝒰𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓎𝒶 𝐻𝒶𝒿𝒾𝓂𝑒
The beach weekend getaway had been in the works for months at this rate, and Umemiya was rather proud of himself for how well it had gone so far. The beach wasn't too far from town, wasn't too crowded or boring, the weather was perfect.
Later in the evening, he, you, and a few others had ventured out, having found an arcade nearby, colorful neon lights pulling them all in. Everyone had grown rather excited, running around with coins and tickets, little prizes in hands.
He had won you a few trinkets, proudly handing you the stuffed animals, watching with delight as you held them delicately, naming them each, one by one.
Umemiya had offered to go get you a drink, watching from the counter as you moved over to skeeball, bringing Sakura with you as you attempted to teach him how to play. Though it looked more like you were working on preventing him from climbing the machine and just throwing the balls in at this rate.
“C’mon man, just wait for her to walk off.”
The conversation happening to his right caught his attention, they were loud, demanding of observation. He glanced them over, men near his age if not a bit older, laughing and talking. He brushed them off, gaze turning back to where you were laughing, Sakura’s face bright red as the ball rolled back down the slope.
“Wearing shorts like that, she’s asking for attention.”
His thoughts paused, processing what was said. One quick glance made him painfully aware that those men were staring in your direction.
“At this rate I say we just go over, that pipsqueak does look like he’d be able to do much.”
He set your drink down on the counter, not wanting to spill the liquid and make some poor worker clean up his mess. Walking over, he set a smile on his face, taught and forced. Leaning between the two of them, he wrapped his arms around their shoulders, “Yeah, she looks pretty great doesn’t she?”
The men jumped, clearly unaware that they had garnered an audience.
“What the hell man?”
He grinned, grip tightening slightly, “I got really lucky honestly, someone as beautiful as her being my girlfriend.”
One of the guys seemed to understand what was happening, face dropping, “Hey man— we were just joking.”
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, “So you don’t think my girlfriend’s beautiful?”
The guy laughed nervously, glancing towards his buddy, who seemed to be opting to stay silent, “Look man, no need to get worked up, okay?”
He smiled, eyes narrowing as he forced a laugh, “Oh don’t worry, I’m not worked up,” He pulled the two closer, “But I would advise you to leave, and keep your mouths shut as you go, yeah?”
Sakura was adding coin after coin, determined to get more points each time, and you wondered if you maybe created a monster, watching as he rolled the ball with too much force.
A loud slam from near the front of the arcade startled you, and you jumped, curiosity making you turn to look, but as you did you bumped into a chest, looking up to see Umemeiya, smiling down at you.
“Got you your drink!” You smiled back, thanking him for the soda, Sakura too caught up in his own competition to notice the new comer.
“What took you so long?” You looked towards the counter, “Oh! What happened?”
There was a wet floor sign, a small pile of damp paper towels on the counter and floor. Ume smiled at you, “Just some guys got startled by something and spilled their drinks. I was helping the worker clean up, and the two ran off.”
That must have been the loud noise, no doubt they were about to get into some type of trouble for their mishap and fled. You nodded, leaning back into his chest, happily sipping your drink.
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…𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑒𝓇
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𝒩𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒾 𝒜𝓀𝒾𝒽𝒾𝓀𝑜
Nirei made sure to pack a bathing suit cover-up for you. He didn't entirely think you needed one, but in case it got breezy or you got sleepy he wanted to make sure he had one handy.
He didn’t have the heart to say he brought it, also, in case someone made you uncomfortable. He trusted his friends and his classmates, but he also knew how strangers could act.
Especially towards a pretty girl at the beach!
He doubts that if a random passer-byer started hitting on you his pill bug technique would come in handy, and he can’t justify allowing any of his classmates throw punches on behalf of his girlfriend.
Well, unless you asked or needed of course. He’d do anything in his realm of possibilities if you asked, and even a few out of it.
“Hiko?” He turned, almost jumping as you drew him from his own thoughts, a gentle smile on your face.
You held out a bottle of water to him, “Umemiya’s handing them out, says to stay hydrated.”
He took it happily, feeling content as you moved to sit next to him, sipping your own water, body relaxed.
“Oh! Kiryuu brought some kites,” He loved watching your eyes light up when you got excited, and he felt himself turn warm, both in his cheeks and his chest, “I thought we could snag one and go fly it later?”
He nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah! The wind seems perfect for that.”
You grinned, agreeing, turning the conversation to chat about other things. As the two of you talked, watching your friends run around and swim, and he took out of his notebooks, jotting down notes and doodles as he observed his classmates.
You glanced over occasionally, curious as to what he was deeming important enough to write in this moment, but kept talking.
“Hey!”
The two of you kept talking, unaware that the yelling being directed at you before, “Hey!”
You jumped, a light dust of sand hitting your legs, both of you looking up to see another random group, a guy and two girls standing near you all. You raised an eyebrow, and Nirei swallowed nervously.
“Can we help you?”
The guy grinned, though it looked more like a leer, while the girls seemed to roll their eyes, hanging behind him, “I was just wondering if you wanted to join us, cutie. Have a fun time instead of sitting here like a loser.”
You felt annoyance flare up in your chest, face dropping as you rolled your eyes, “No.”
The guy laughed, clearly caught off by your response, “C’mon, I promise you I can show you a better time.”
“And I said no, now please, go away.”
His grin faded, looking more annoyed than he had before, though he seemed like he wanted to play it off, “Look, I’m being nice here, there’s no need to be a bitch.”
Nirei glared at him, hot anger licking at his chest, ready to stand up and yell at him, defend you against this asshole.
“You haven’t seen me be a bitch yet,” You replied, sounding bored of the conversation, relaxing back, leaning on your palms, “Like I said. Leave.”
The girls looked torn between laughing at the man’s plight and sneering down at you, and the guy’s face was turning red.
He clicked his tongue, “You can stay here then, enjoying your time with your loser boyfriend. But remember—”
He was cut off, you standing up like a flash, fist flying towards the guys nose, a satisfying crack sounding as he reared back, shouting in pain.
Your punch wasn’t enough to break his nose, and Nirei hated that he was disappointed by that, but there was a steady, thin stream of blood trickling from one nostril.
“What the fuck?”
“I was being nice before,” You snapped, “Now I’m telling you to fuck off.”
The guy sneered at you, though it looked rather pathetic as he cupped his nose, swears and curses falling from his lips, tripping over the sand and his own feet as he walked back to where ever he wandered from, the two girls sending you a shocked look before going after him.
You sat back down, rubbing your knuckles and smiling at Nirei sweetly, as if you hadn’t just punched someone in the face.
“Do you wanna go see about the kite now?”
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𝒮𝒶𝓀𝓊𝓇𝒶 𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓊𝓀𝒶
Your boyfriend had yet to look at you for more than two seconds. At this rate, it was rather adorable how his face burned red, eyes flittering everywhere but you. You knew your bathing suit would illicit this reaction, one reason you had told him you'd rather meet up at the beach than walk with him and his friends.
Suo had teased your blushing boyfriend a bit before bidding you both a gentle wave, and wandering off with Nirei, leaving the two of you under an umbrella on the sand.
You were applying sunscreen to your arms, debating whether or not you should forcefully apply some to your boyfriend, knowing full well that he didn’t apply nearly enough, or teasing him.
You studied his profile for a moment, the blush hadn’t died down yet. Though, that could be because of the sun, you mused. He seemed to notice your staring, however, and the red intensified.
Ah, still blushing. Cute.
“Haruka,” Your voice was light, singing his name softly, and he tensed, sending you a quick side eye, “You should apply more sunscreen.”
“Huh? I already applied some!” He grew defensive, turning to glare at the bottle in your hand.
You sighed, though a small smile grew on your face, “Not nearly enough.”
“You saying I’m weak?”
You blinked at him, trying to reel in a laugh, lest he think you’re laughing at him, “Love,” He stammered at the pet name, “No one’s tougher than the sun. Or UV rays. Put more on.”
You squeezed some more into your palm, before handing the bottle over to him. You moved, applying more to your arms, as he stared at the bottle, looking between it and you.
“Now.”
He swore quietly, but uncapped the bottle, applying it with the same ferocity as a grumpy toddler. The comparison made you giggle, and you moved to apply the leftover sunscreen on your legs.
He paused in his actions, unbeknownst to you, watching you with intense rapt. You were humming quietly to yourself, some kitschy pop song. He glanced over you, noticing one guy having turned, staring at your legs, unblinking.
He felt himself grow rather… angry? Frustrated, maybe. Why was that guy staring? His silence and stillness drew your attention, and you looked at him, trying to follow his gaze. You made eye contact with the stranger, and he winked, shamelessly.
Rolling your eyes, your lips curled into a disgusted sneer, “Pervert.”
“I’ll kick his ass.”
You hummed again, amused at your boyfriend’s automatic protective nature, “No, you won’t.”
“Wha,” He turned to look at you, incredulously, “He’s— he’s just staring at you! And he winked at you!”
“And I have absolutely no interest in him, or his stupid wink,” You mimicked the way came out of his mouth like it was a swear.
“It’s cause of your bathing suit!”
You blinked at him, voice dropping rather dangerously, “Pardon?”
He seemed to realize he said something wrong, though you doubt he knew exactly what it was he said that was wrong. You couldn’t blame him entirely, his knowledge of relationships was still very limited, and you knew this.
“I just—” He stammered, mouth fluttering open and shut, trying to find what to say, “You look— and he’s staring because— it’s,” He motioned to your body, and you raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to come to his own conclusion, “You look too good!”
You couldn’t cover the snort that escaped, trying not to laugh at your boyfriend’s worries. He glared at you, offended by the noise.
“They can stare all they want because I,” You took his hand into yours, enjoying how his frustration faded at the drop of a hat, face immediately reddening once more, “Am at the beach with my adorable boyfriend. Besides, if he tries anything I don’t need you to kick his ass for me, I can do that myself.”
Face still red, he turned away, facing the waves, voice a bit quieter as he spoke, “You’re not a fighter.”
“I don’t have to be a fighter to crack a bottle of ramune over his head,” To prove your point you reached over him, hiding your amusement as he yelped, grabbing a bottle and working it open, “Not many people can bounce back from that.”
You took a sip, maintaining eye contact with Sakura, his cheeks still red, but his eyes widened. It was silent between you two for a moment before—
“Jesus, okay. You can defend yourself.” You smiled, shifting to cuddle closer to him, allowing him a moment to gather his bearings as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders in response, muttering something that vaguely sounded like scary under his breath.
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…𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒹𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔
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𝐻𝒾𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾 𝒯𝑜𝓂𝒶
There were times when Hiragi wondered if you were an angel sent to him, or another demon sent his way. This was one of the times where he thought that you may be a demon, though you were as pretty as an angel. He wishes he had packed more of his gaskun10.
"Hiragi," Your voice was light as you called out to him, a small pout on your lips as you held your hand out, "You promised me a board-walk trip."
Despite the previous feeling, he smiled, standing up and brushing sand off of his shorts, wandering your way, "I did, didn't I?"
You grinned up at him, squeezing his hand once he placed it in yours, all but leading him away from the group, prattling on about the different pop-up shops that had appeared this summer you wanted to check out.
Your excitement had you distracted, torn between talking to Hiragi and looking at your shirtless boyfriend, admiring him in the summer light. He understood, not teasing you on your staring for once, listening with half an ear as he, too, was distracted by your beach outfit. You had gone out shopping with Kotoha and Tsubaki, and elected on surprising you with your pick.
He wasn't, however, too distracted to note the looks being sent your way. You were a pretty girl; beautiful, perfect, in his eyes, and he knew he wasn't the only one who shared this sentiment. Several guys were staring as you two walked, eyes trailing up from top to bottom, before flickering over to him. He was glad none were stupid enough to step forward, he'd rather not cause a scene at the beach.
There were also, surprising to him, a few girls staring, well he should say glaring your way. He could see the judgment stemming off of them from miles away, looking between the both of you with disdain. It made him click his tongue, annoyed with the vastly different responses being sent your way.
You sensed the small shift in his mood, eyebrows furrowing as you paused your rambling to study him, "Everything okay?"
He looked down at you, "You just look stunning."
Giggling, you turned your attention forward once more, "I'm well aware of that."
His eye roll was nothing short of affectionate, no snark or annoyance in his expression as you two continued walking.
“You’re also ridiculous,” He added, and you threw your head back and laughed.
“That I am also well aware of,” You grinned, and he was once again reminded of the demon analogy, “But you love me.”
He sighed, “I do,” Probably too much to be healthy, but that was neither here nor there.
In all honesty, he was rather used to onlookers, well, looking. You were always loud in your own way, drawing attention and awe where ever you went. It was one reason you and Tsubakino got along as well as you did.
It didn’t help the level of stress he felt, wanting nothing more than to shield your body or fight those looking at you, but he knew you wouldn’t want that. Unless absolutely necessary, but more often than not his presence kept those situations away.
“Come on,” You stood on your tip toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “Let’s go get some snacks!”
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𝒞𝒽𝑜𝒿𝒾 𝒯𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓎𝒶𝓂𝒶
"Hey! Hey! You put sunscreen on right? Kame-chan kept bugging me about it so I thought to make sure you put some on!"
You blinked your eyes open, peering up at your boyfriend, hair soaked and plastered against his head from where he had been all but running through the waves. Smiling, you sat up, moving your sunglasses on top of your head.
"Yes Choji, I've got sunscreen on," You saw Togame floating in the water a few yards away, relaxing in the waves, "I'm glad Togame made sure you re-applied yours."
He pouted at your words, "He got sand stuck on my face because of it."
His childlike annoyance had you laughing, and he brightened at the sound, moving to grab your hand, working to drag you up onto your feet.
"C'mon! Let's get in the water!"
You allowed yourself to be pulled up, his energy contagious, "You were just in the water," Your argument held no real bite, letting your overzealous boyfriend drag you to the waves.
"But not with you!"
Your feet hit the water, and you shrieked at the sudden coldness lapping against you. He laughed at your response, turning to run full speed towards Togame, splashing his relaxing friend with a face full of water.
You rolled your eyes, slowly going further into the water, getting used to the coolness against your skin. Choji swam around you and Togame, going back and forth between splashing you lightly and seeming like he was trying to drown his friend. Togame was fighting back, laughing while dunking your boyfriend under the water.
There were some fish swimming around, little things flitting between the people, and you watched, relaxing in the water as Choji swam after them. Togame wadded over, and the two of you started talking, light conversation as Choji swam a bit away, closer to another group that was hanging out nearby.
The fish had all gotten away, and he decided to float for a bit, facing the sun with a relaxed smile on his face. That was until he heard the conversation from the people near.
"Seriously, I'd never let my girl in public like that. She should be covered up."
"Doesn't she know all she's gonna do is draw attention to herself?"
There was some mumbling, a few choice words being passed around, and the once relaxing float was less so now. He moved, eyes narrowing at the group, ready to open his mouth or throw a fist, when he heard you calling his name, you and Kame waving him back over.
He debated for a moment, what would be more important, before deciding that these guys were just idiots. And you all were having such a good time, he could fight them later. So he swam back over, launching himself at you once he was close enough. You caught him, as you always did.
He began peppering your face with kisses, ignoring the joking eye-roll Kame sent their way.
"You look amazing, you know this right?"
You giggled at his antics, pushing his face away softly, "Yes, you've told me a hundred times in the past few hours."
He huffed, "You're the prettiest girl at this beach! In this whole town! You always look so amazing!"
His fluttering kisses tickled lightly, and you were giggling uncontrollably, trying to stop him like you would an over excited puppy. He finally moved back, still floating close to you, smiling wide.
“What was that about?”
His head tilted, looking like a confused puppy to you, when in reality he was debating whether or not to tell you what he overheard.
If you were upset or hurt or offended he’d turn around in a heart beat, fists at the ready. He’d finish them all off quickly, wash their blood from his fists in the water, the salt may sting, but it’d be worth it.
But he thought on it, something Ume-chan told him he should practice, and came to the conclusion that you’d more than likely roll your eyes and laugh. You often did whenever snide comments made their way to you, even way before you two were dating.
You dressed how you liked, and no one’s comments seemed to affect you. You were happy with your outfits, and often said, “That’s all that matters,” with that sweet smile of yours.
So he just smiled, eyes closing as he grinned, “I just love you!”
A/N: I am not a fan! Of how I wrote some of these! >.< So sorry! I have never written for some of these characters and I worry it shows! ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ALSO I CUT SOME CHARACTERS OUT! I RAN OUT OF IDEAS AND DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SOME OF THEM! I’M SO SORRY!
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fuckyeahisawthat · 1 year
Text
Up until the almost-end-of-the-world, the way Aziraphale and Crowley maintained their relationship was through a collection of well-established and repeated patterns (dances, you might say). These little rituals were what they used to communicate affection, intimacy and trust when they couldn’t say the things they wanted to say out loud. I like spending time with you. You make me happy, and I like making you happy. We’re in this together. I’ll always be there for you, even when your own side is not.
In season 1, as the stress of the impending apocalypse puts more and more pressure on their relationship, we see their patterns start to break down, and it’s very distressing for them. They’ve been communicating like this for so long that they don’t know what to do when one of them doesn’t follow the dance steps.
When we first see them in season 2, they seem in some ways to be closer than ever. They touch each other more easily, Aziraphale in particular. Crowley is comfortable enough in the bookshop that he has a Spot for putting his sunglasses when he takes them off by the door. They’re more open about acknowledging how much time they spend together and how many things in their lives are shared.
And I think, also, we expect them to be happy. They won, didn’t they? So it takes a while for the cracks to start to show.
It wasn’t until this post pointed out that the whole season, we never see them sit down and share a meal together in the present day (no, Crowley doesn’t eat; yes, it still counts) that it started coming together for me. The closer you look, the more you realize the old patterns they’re used to relying on are broken.
Three times, we see them sit down to their usual table for two (at the coffee shop, the bar, and the French restaurant) and then almost immediately get up again. This post also points out that we don’t see present-day Aziraphale eat anything on screen, other than one of the little candies in the Bentley. This in the same season we learn that Crowley is the one who introduced him to food! It’s one of their oldest rituals!
Even one of their most visually recognizable patterns starts to go wonky this season. In season 1, when the blocking allows it, Crowley’s always on Aziraphale’s left. When they’re standing or walking side by side, and most of the time when they’re sitting side by side together (there are some exceptions due to camera angles)…Crowley’s always on Aziraphale’s left (screen right if they’re facing us, screen left if we’re behind them). It’s one of the clues about the body swap that is easy to see when you know what to look for—in Berkeley Square they are each initially sitting on the “wrong” side of the bench. It’s so reliable that Aziraphale hears a little miracle bling in the sushi restaurant in s1 ep1 and turns to his left—because that’s where Crowley would appear—only to be startled by Gabriel on his right.
Go look at the scene where we find out Gabriel and Beez are a couple. You know the one.
And of course, many people have noted that in the end credits, we’d expect their positions on screen to be switched. They’re on the wrong sides. And it’s such a long shot that I think it has to be intentional.
Some people have speculated that this means they swapped bodies again. I don’t really buy that. Rather I think it is supposed to indicate what becomes extremely clear on a second viewing, that things are Off and Wrong. They are not okay.
And the more you watch them you see that Aziraphale’s excitement during his little adventures is manic and brittle, and that he misses having a place and a purpose and a mission to do good. And Crowley is depressed, unhealthily codependent, even more hypervigilant and cagey and angry than he was before. They both have layers and layers of trauma, and no way to talk about it. They have the time and freedom now to talk about what they want to be to each other, now that they don’t have to hide and encode and maintain plausible deniability. But they have no way to talk about that either, because that’s never been an option before. They don’t know how, and they are both so, so afraid.
And in the fights they have in episode 1 and episode 6, you realize they haven’t resolved anything from season 1. They’re having the same fight they had at the bandstand. Crowley wants to run, keep the two of them safe and damn the rest, and Aziraphale wants to stay and help, believing he can make a difference even in an imperfect system, and neither of them really understands the other’s position. It’s the same damn fight. They haven’t been able to move past this impasse, and it’s the exact thing that breaks them in the end.
And it’s just. Fuck. It’s such a human thing to have happened to them. To make it through the fire (metaphorical and literal) and then have everything go to shit afterward because of unaddressed traumas and insecurities and things left unsaid until they fester.
I know this is not at all how I expected the season to go, and I think it took a little while for me to parse what was going with their relationship, because we are predisposed to want them to be happy and to want things to be easy for them now. But it makes so much sense that this is where they ended up at this point in the story.
I know they’ll make it back to each other. They both love each other too much to give up. They’ll fight their way back together, and I know they’ll figure it out in the end.
But goddamn.
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wileys-russo · 22 days
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tiny red hearts II a.putellas
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tiny red hearts II a.putellas
amid the pandemic everyone picked up a hobbie in lockdown.
if it be knitting, dancing, pottery, reading, cooking, puzzles. you name it, someone had likely perfected it as an art form during those weeks and weeks locked away from society.
for you it was no different. you'd tried cooking, reading, jigsaws, colouring in, sudoku, even gardening but nothing really clicked.
until one day you were endlessly doom scrolling your various social medias as again, everyone was, when you stumbled across a nail art video. intrigued you'd watched it, then another, and another, and another, the worm hole you fell down was one that was long and steep and swift.
then before you knew it you had package after package arriving on your doorstep, much to your girlfriends confusion at your sudden online shopping habits. normally you were quite the stickler for the 'its a want not a need' type attitude, but with the packages snatched up and hidden away in your room the days melted into weeks as you worked tirelessly to perfect your new art.
and a week of hard work and countless hours spent watching youtube tutorial after youtube tutorial later holed up in the guest bathroom, you'd done it.
that wasn't to say your clear dedication to your new hobbie was one your girlfriend enjoyed, forever trying to bait you into doing something with her but you'd just brush her off, eyes glued to your phone screen which was propped up against a bottle of shampoo.
which is how you came to be sitting on the floor of your living room weeks and weeks later, bottles of polish sat in perfect colour coded order on the coffee table with all your little brushes and tools neatly lined up in front.
your bottom lip was firmly between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed deeply with concentration as your eyes squinted and your hand moved slowly and precisely.
your girlfriend of two years whom you shared your home with and whom you'd been locked in with for the horrendously active period of this ghastly pandemic lay stretched out on the sofa behind you, toned tanned arms crossed firmly across her chest.
her face was stoic and seemingly stern as ever, you'd forever nag her about the frown lines she was embedding into her beautifully smooth skin with the scowl she'd not even clock was on her face nearly all the time when she found herself deep in thought or lost in her own mind.
but she'd merely brush it off with a wave or a hum, nothing unusual when she was reviewing game footage and given she wasn't currently able to play her studying of games when she could had only increased.
you were off in your own little world and she was in hers, you coexisted but knew how not to be codependent, something which had surprisingly caused your relationship to stay just as strong if not more so during this lockdown together.
one of the key things that made your relationship healthy was the fact that despite how long you'd been seeing one another you still spent time apart, and despite not being able to leave the house much you still had different hobbies and interests to preoccupy your time.
you would go shopping or out for drinks with your school friends you'd known for years, as alexia would often go for dinner or hikes with some of her own childhood friends, well that was when she wasn't chasing after ball and getting grass stains all over her legs.
but that's not by any means to say you weren't positively and certainly head over heels infatuated with one another, and whenever you did spend time apart you were increasingly clingy that night once you were reunited, but when out you knew to respect one another's time and space and didn't feel the need to be texting one another the entiere time.
after all there was seldom you loved more than laying down with alexia of an evening, the two of you knew how to treasure quality time and found that so long as you were together you could be doing nothing at all and still perfectly content.
with her body warm and strong it pressed against yours as you'd lay down squished on the sofa, soft gentle kisses littered across your shoulders as your fingers intertwined and you'd take turns filling one another in on how your days were since you'd spent them apart.
back to present day sat on the floor you gave a small exhale of relief when you finally finished the intricate design you'd been working on, your frown of concentration switching quickly into a grin of delight as you slipped your hand into the UV nail lamp and waited for them to dry.
as you had been every now and then you leaned your head back to rest against the couch, knocking it back into alexias good knee and puckering your lips expectantly.
then with a smile and a small chuckle your girlfriend pulled herself up to sit with a quiet grunt, leaning down and rewarding you with a soft kiss before returning back to her previous position.
punching the pillow behind her head and wiggling slightly until she was comfortable, her foot poked at your shoulder every now and then as if to reassure her you were still there without needing to look.
since a young age you had been known to daydream.
it got you into a fair deal of trouble in school, forever having a teachers hand or a heavy textbook slammed down onto your desk with a loud bang to snap you back into reality, your peers giggling and cheeks flashed bright red as you'd smile sheepishly and do your best to focus on your lessons.
your girlfriend however had always found it adorable as much as amusing as you'd zone out from reality and go somewhere she never understood.
sometimes as you drifted away into your own head alexia would just watch you with lovesick puppy dog eyes, filled with nothing but pure adoration that was so sweet it could give someone a tooth ache, though always in the privacy and intimacy of just one another's company.
after all the big bad la reina couldn't be known to be so whipped for her girlfriend (everyone already knew she was).
case in point right now where you'd clearly drifted off somewhere as the footballers eyes glanced down toward you and her hardened features softened, corners of her mouth curled upward into a smile.
"hola, princesa." you snapped right out of it as her foot moved to poke at your cheek this time, dragging you back down to earth as you pushed it away and sent her a playful glare, pulling your other hand out and flicking off the lamp as both of them were now dry.
"look amor!" you leapt up eagerly and dropped down on the lounge next to your girlfriend, sat practically on top of her, wiggling your fingers proudly at the blonde who hummed.
"muy bien bebé." alexia complimented, leaning up and softly kissing your cheek before turning her attention back to the television where the match had resumed, as did the stoic expression on her face.
"alee." you started with a coy smile, grabbing her hand and interlacing your fingers with a gentle squeeze. "mm?" the midfielder hummed, eyes unmoving from the screen.
"can i paint your nails cari?" you asked hopefully, alexia only letting out a puff of air from her nose as she chuckled, shaking her head. "por favor you know i am good and they will look good!" you pleaded, squeezing her hand again and even kissing over her knuckles a few times.
"no mi amor, no nails." alexia shook her head as you huffed, moving to rest your chin on her shoulder, lazily kissing her jaw. "sí nails. sí, sí, sí, sí, sí-" you repeated over and over, peppering kisses across her face.
now as much as alexia could be at times be a fierce woman, driven and passionate and willing to do absolutely anything to achieve whatever she set her mind to, she had a fatal soft spot.
you.
alexia would do nearly everything that you asked of her, especially with a few choice sweet words in her ear and a charming smile you had the catalan wrapped around your little finger, and you reveled in it.
so of course it was with a deep sigh that alexia inevitably gave into your demand, wordlessly placing her free hand in your lap as you beamed and perked right up.
clapping happily you sat up properly and grabbed her chin in your hand, pecking her lips a few times and reveling in the slight pink blush which coated her cheeks.
"tan lindo." you cooed, pinching her cheeks as her eyes rolled but she made no move to argue which only caused your elated grin to grow.
you moved her hand and sat back down on the ground, staring carefully at the arsenal of colours at your disposal, taking a few moments to decide what you wanted before nodding happily and grabbing what you needed.
you settled back down on the lounge as again alexia moved her hand into your lap, eyes glued to the match as her eyebrows turned downward in frustration at a fumbled tackle and an easily preventable shot at the barcelona goal, a shake of her head and an annoyed grumble under her breath.
"you will get wrinkles corazón." you teased, smoothing out her eyebrow with your thumb as the tiniest of smiles flickered across her face just for a moment which wasn't missed by you.
"déjame en paz." the footballer muttered as you chuckled and kissed her palm sweetly, turning her hand back over and adjusting your position a little.
warning her to stay still you placed her right hand down on your knee and grabbed the first colour, tugging the coffee table closer so everything you needed was well within reach to avoid anything being knocked or falling.
much as alexia might bend over backwards to do as you asked you knew well enough if you spilled even a drop of polish on the carpet or the sofa you knew you'd be hearing about it for weeks.
as you set to work your girlfriends face remained blank, but her bright hazel eyes flickered down to you curiously every now and then, corner of her lip curling upward at the look of sheer concentration on your face and the way the tip of your tongue poked out of the side of your mouth.
finishing one hand you blew gently on the nails, unable to use the machine which was plugged in on the floor and just out of reach. though not in any rush you awaited her first hand to dry as you kept a cautious eye that she didn't move as your head dropped to her shoulder.
there was a comfortable silence between you, the only sound the occasional grunt of frustration from the taller girl whose side you were curled into, a shake of her head and something mumbled under her breath at every costly mistake.
her first hand drying you tapped her knee, gesturing for her to swing her legs into your lap so you could reach her other hand. shuffling her body she did as you asked, sliding down a little as her head thumped backward into the soft cushions behind.
you couldn't do anything to keep the smile off your face as you worked on your girlfriends nail design, incredibly happy with how it turned out as again you gently blew on her other hand, settling it back into her lap to dry same as the first one.
warning her once again about not moving you crawled up the lounge and wedged yourself into her, sitting half on top of her much to the older girls amusement as you pulled her other arm to drape across your shoulder allowing you to tuck yourself even tighter into her side.
checking a few moments later you were happy they were dry and sat up a little, shrugging off your girlfriends arm and eagerly taking her hands in yours.
"listo!" you announced happily as alexia's eyes moved from the tv to her hands which made yours seem tiny, your own gaze falling to admire both the size difference and the small 11 tattooed on the back of her palm.
"i did more of a pale pink because i know you do not like them too bright, but i did tiny red hearts on each nail for barça!" you explained with a beaming smile, alexia melting at the confession as she stole a glance toward you and softened even more seeing the clear and pure joy in your eyes.
"muy perfecto bebita." your girlfriend gave you a small smile not giving much away, one of her hands slipping around to cup the back of your neck and bringing you into a tender kiss.
"can i put them on my story? i think these are some of my favourites." you asked hopefully as alexia shrugged, eyes having returned back to the final few minutes of the match, seemingly unfazed.
grabbing your phone you positioned her hands on her knees, taking a few photos and editing your favourite before adding it onto your instagram and curling back up on top of your girlfriend who held you tightly, eyes flickering down to her nails with a small hidden smile every few minutes.
~
that next day at training was a very different story though as alexia couldn't wait to show off her nails to the rest of the team.
the morning was spent with the midfielder very proudly boasting how good you were and that you were completely self taught, ignoring all the teasing remarks thrown her way about how she'd gone soft.
when you'd come to collect her that afternoon having dropped her off and borrowed her car for the day as yours was being serviced you were overwhelmed as a small group of the girls suddenly swarmed you in the carpark.
"hey hey hey back up!" alexia warned protectively, moving in front of you with a mean stare as a few of the younger girls cowered and hurried off to their own cars as the rest rolled their eyes, knowing that really she was all bark and no bite.
"me next amiga! maybe little black hearts? or...letters!" mapi beamed, eyes flickering toward her girlfriend who caught onto what she was wanting and blushed as you laughed.
"get your own! este es mío." alexia huffed, wrapping herself around you as her chin hooked into your shoulder and she sent her best friend a glare.
"tomorrow? but you must cook me dinner as payment maría." you offered with a grin, mapi agreeing eagerly as you promised to also do ingrid's nails when you caught her frowning at you over her girlfriends head.
"sí, sí! before the next game chicas, promise." you laughed as pina, salma and cata swooped in next undeterred by the murderous glare given by your girlfriend, who refused to unwind her arms where they wrapped tightly around your torso holding your back flush to her front.
"we are going! relax capi, you will get wrinkles." cata smirked as alexia's eyes narrowed even further and the three sprinted off and away.
with a small laugh you craned your back back staring up at your girlfriend with a wide grin.
"see amor? i warned you about the frown wrinkles."
~
you expected alexia to allow the nails for a couple of days before she'd want to return back to normal with a clean set again, so you were surprised when anytime you'd offer to help her take it off she seemed to come up with every and any excuse not to.
by the end of day five with the rigorous gym program and workouts needed with alexia's recovery the polish was cracked and chipped, most of it worn off and faded, hearts now barely recognisable as just small red blobs.
it was that night alexia finally seemed eager for you to wipe them clean, again swinging her long bare legs into your lap and settling her hands on her knee for you to work on.
the removal process compared to the creation was next to nothing and before even five minutes had passed you were finished, tapping her legs to let you up to move your things back to the bathroom where they normally lived.
when you returned it was to an empty and dark living room, so changing route you followed the light at the end of the hallway where you finally found your girlfriend once more.
you held a hand over your mouth to stifle the loud boom of laughter you wished you could get out, the catalan having fallen deep asleep on top of the bed, one of your favorite dramas playing in the background where she'd clearly intended the two of you to lay in bed together and watch.
with a small sigh of amusement you flitted back around the house ensuring everything was locked before you returned, closing the bedroom door behind you with a gentle click.
the room now only illuminated by the dim glow of the tv you flicked off the downlight and you made you way around to her side of the bed and crouched down.
"amor. amor. alexia!" you called out softly, moving one arm to shake her lightly when there was no response, the blondes chocolate brown eyes fluttering open tiredly once you shook her a little harder.
"hola bebé, into bed?" you ran a hand through her mane of hair, moving a few loose strands off her forehead with a soft smile as the footballer sighed tiredly but sat up with a curt nod as you tugged down the covers allowing her to slip in properly.
already showered and changed you ducked off to the bathroom to brush your teeth before joining her, chuckling as once more she was seemingly dead to the world, mouth ever so slightly ajar as her blonde hair sprawled across the pillow.
though as the mattress dipped, never the heaviest of sleepers alexia awoke a little, turning around to her other side and shuffling down the bed as her face pressed into your neck and her long legs tangled with yours, feet rubbing against one another.
you felt an i love you mumbled against your skin as her arms wrapped tightly around your torso, latching her taller body firmly onto yours making you smile and tangle a hand in her hair, lips lingering against the warm skin of her forehead.
"te quiero más."
~
a few days later you'd removed your own nail design and sat down to try a new one, having spent a few hours scrolling through for inspiration before it struck and within minutes you'd grabbed what you needed and settled.
though before you could even glance to the bottles of polish a body dropped down next to you and suddenly strong hands were on your hips lifting you up.
"ale!" you laughed as she set you down on her lap, long legs stretched out straight as you wiggled a little to get comfortable. "my turn first please." the girl spoke in her adorably accented english, hands moving around you and placing themselves on your knees.
"oh your turn?" you asked both equally pleased and surprised, turning a little so you could look at her properly. "sí, mi novia so my turn." alexia grinned, pointing to you and then back at herself before moving her head to press a soft and tender kiss against your lips.
you smiled as you pulled away, a hand softly carressing her cheek as your thumb pulled at her bottom lip, pressing another tender kiss against them with a lovesick sigh.
"of course mi amor whatever you want. so, what colour?"
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violet-witch-6 · 1 year
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Gonna be real, my first time watching THAT scene I honestly wasn’t sure how they were ever gonna patch things up because I can’t even imagine the pain of standing in Crowley’s place after 6,000 years of loving someone in silence, trying to show them who you are at every opportunity, painstakingly chipping away at the delusion they’ve bought into since the beginning (more than you ever did) in order to show them the truth—to show them who you are (who the two of you could be together) —and then just as you’ve finally worked up the courage to lay it all out there and toss the dice hoping (with what, for the first time, you’re starting to believe are less than doomed odds) that they’ll love you back and that it will be enough—only for all of it to be dragged out from under you because they look you in the eye and all but tell you that they never understood you at all. They weren’t listening. And, sure they want what you want (to be together), they love you back (still unspoken but legible in the way they glow at the thought that they might still save you) (as if you need saving) (as if you’d want it)—but not as you are. They think the change they ask of you would be received as a grace and the betrayal of that is gut wrenching in a way that no flat out rejection could be, I think. If I were Crowley, I can’t imagine how I’d come back from that.
But then I watched the scene again. The moments after that betrayal. Once Crowley’s put his glasses back on, raised his defenses and sounded the retreat. I wondered, watching the scene again, how it could ever reach the point where the kiss made sense when they were already so torn apart. But the thing is that no matter how wrong Aziraphale was to want things to go back to the “way they were”, everything that led him to that conclusion comes from the thing Crowley loves most about him: his goodness. Aziraphale is good in a way that heaven is not, and Crowley knows that, but Aziraphale still hasn’t learned that lesson. He wants so desperately still to believe in god and heaven and the ineffable plan and even though it’s that desire that’s led him to hurt Crowley, I don’t think Crowley can completely begrudge him. By the time Crowley’s walking out of the book shop, the betrayal has already faded—not gone, but less than when compared to his sadness for Aziraphale and what his angel is going to go through when heaven lets him down (again)—assuming that it doesn’t just break him.
And the kiss—that fucking kiss (be still my beating heart)—that was Crowley planting a seed. “I know better than you do” he says and he does because Crowley has always been more honest with himself than Mr. “Master class in self delusion” A. Z. Fell. Aziraphale is about to be more alone and more lost than he has been in 6,000 years, so Crowley needed to make 100% clear to him where solid ground was. Aziraphale won’t be able to rationalize this away or hide behind propriety because it can only mean one thing and that is that he is in love with a demon whose on his own side with no interest in ever rejoining the heavenly host because heaven is not the epitome of goodness or love that he so desperately wants to believe it is. It’s not even capable of being that—no matter how hard Aziraphale tries to bend it back into what he thinks is it’s natural shape (because isn’t that what he wants so desperately to do as chief archangel? To make heaven the place he’s always thought it was?). Crowley really said “whatever you do next, do it knowing I love you”. He said “I’m done letting you ignore this.” And I get it. Cards on the table means cards on the table. No more half measures no more dancing around it—any of it. If Aziraphale wants to walk into the belly of the beast, then the least Crowley can do is make sure he’s doing it with his eyes wide open.
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willows-peak · 9 months
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*・゚✧ How the JJK characters show their love for u (love languages)
tags: multi character x reader, gn! reader, fluff, just overwhelming amts of fluff
word count: 1.3k
a/n: im starting off with some fluff, bc they all deserve some soft loving <3
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⋆。˚ ♡ PHYSICAL TOUCH: light squeezes of your hand, hugs from behind, leaning on your shoulder on the train, holding your wrist while you walk together, no matter what their hands are on you. they just love you too much to keep away from you, can you blame them? the feeling of you against their skin makes them feel happier than they could ever expect, even when they're coming across as clingy sometimes.
nobara will tug on your sleeve until you oblige and follow her around the mall, your hand either taken by your girlfriend's or the brightly colored shopping bags she'd acquired over your trip. some for her, some for you, because she was just dying to put you in some of the shirts she'd seen around the mall. and she's smile and kiss your cheek when you went with her requests with no fuss
yuuji will take no liberties in picking you up at any point. greeting you? you're up in the air before you can say 'hello'. god help you if you even mention being tired, because he will carry you in his arms without a moments hesitation, holding you close to his chest and claiming he can't in good conscious let you walk while tired! as your boyfriend, its his job to take care of you
gojo will never ever hesitate to embarrass you with how doting he can get. dramatically gasping whenever he sees you in his kitchen making a snack and rushing over to you, pressing kiss after kiss to your face and squeezing you while praising the heavens he's able to see you today, ignoring how you turned your face away and whined at him to lay off
⋆。˚ ♡ WORDS OF AFFIRMATION: with someone like you, how do you expect them to keep their mouth shut? they can never get enough of the way you blush or laugh at their compliments, or their daily vows of love. "you're a great cook, dear." if you made them a meal, or fawning over how great you look today, despite you being dressed in loose pajamas with a messy bedhead. they need you to always know how in love they are, constantly.
sukuna, surprisingly, can offer quite a few bits of praise to you through the day. while you may have to pause and figure out his wording to actually receive a compliment at times, that doesn't change how he'll always show his approval of you in his own way. he never fails to acknowledge your effort in something, patting your shoulder and congratulating you on whatever you did.
nanami is always straight to the point when he speaks, wasting no extra time to dance around a subject and often being more blunt than necessary with his words. and that carries over to how he loves you, of course. kissing the temple of your head, murmuring about how lucky he is to be with you, brushing hair out of your face while you lean in for a proper kiss.
⋆。˚ ♡ GIFT GIVING: plastic charms, figurines, hair clips, clothes, jewelry, stuffies, flowers, games, they're never ending. you're never not on their mind, so it's really impossible for them to be out and about without seeing some beautiful roses in a shop window and not hesitate at all with buying it for you. a single off handed comment about how you're a fan of something, and suddenly your arms are full of different kinds of merch. you've had to reorganize your room countless times to fit everything they've gotten you in there, and you're starting to look like a hoarder. but, it makes them happy, so what choice do you have?
getou could plant acres of flower fields with how much roses he'd gotten you. you can't even remember when you'd told him your favorite flower, the innocent seeming question still forcing you to fill up vase after vase of beautifully picked red roses. the amount of times getou had shown up to your door, hands behind his back with a smile plastered over his face at your weary sigh. "what did you get now, sugu..." "i don't have a clue what you mean, my love."
maki will take the extra step and take you with her when she gets a gift idea, finding the way you'd fret over her funds as she casually bought you yet another scarf she caught you eyeing much cuter than surprising you with it. this happens so often that she's caught you snapping your head forwards when letting your eye linger on something too long, making her laugh and peck your cheek before snatching it up before you could notice.
⋆。˚ ♡ QUALITY TIME: quiet nights, spent curled up next to each other simply enjoying the others presence. sitting next to you while you play your favorite game, throwing occasional questions at you and smiling when you eagerly answer them. sometimes they get sheepish at how in love they are, that you simply being there makes them feel happier than anything. but when you're cozied up next to them, snoring softly against their chest, they can't seem to care too much about anything else
megumi is the king of silent time together, claims it helps him study and plan for missions when nothing is happening around him. and while that's true, often times he will replace 'feeling lonely and wanting your company' with 'studying for an exam'. he's sure you aren't aware of what he truly means when he asks to come over though, even when he shows up with no textbooks or notes to 'study from', and immediately goes to cuddle up against you when you usher him inside your room.
choso is..very clingy lol. always following behind you wherever you go, sitting next to you with a soft smile even as you aimlessly scroll through your phone. he's so silent that you've forgotten his presence entirely a few times, yelping when you hear a low sigh or a shuffle of his hand against your own. you felt a little exposed at first, always being under surveillance by him, but you adjusted pretty quickly and accepted his way of affection.
⋆。˚ ♡ ACTS OF SERVICE: call it a hero complex, but they just adore being your knight in shining armor. holding the door open for you, finishing an assignment for you after learning how stressed you've been recently, wrapping their coat around you when it gets too chilly out, making your favorite meal just because they could. why should you have to do things when they're right there?
toji, despite having cast away his family name, was still raised by a traditional family. which meant he'd assigned himself to any hard work that needed to be done. plumbing, cleaning, repairing of any kind, he was on it. at first he did it out of habit, used to being forced to pick up any chore that others didn't feel like doing. but over time, the way you'd thank him and hug him tight when he did something for you made his heart melt. nowadays, he almost gets giddy when he hears your frustrated mumbling from across the room, happy to help you yet again with whatever you needed.
yuuta is really the sweetest thing... he's always ready to help you out, no matter how small the issue is. the mornings are his favorite, though, watching your chest rise and fall peacefully while sunlight slowly made its way across your sleeping form. he loves being able to tidy up your room and get breakfast ready for you while you peacefully sleep the sunrise away. he'd turn his head towards the hall as he heard your footsteps shuffle closer to him, a blanket draped over your sleepy figure as you greeted him.
inumaki, even with your reassurance, still feels guilty at times for not being able to talk with you how you're used to. deciphering rice ball ingredients in response to you asking when his is birthday isn't the simplest task, unfortunately. so, he always makes sure to show his love through simple tasks he can do for you. keeping extra snacks in his bag for when you get hungry during class, handing you his umbrella if he notices the sky beginning to dribble on your way home, even when you insist he keep it. he doesn't mind the rain if it's with you.
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delirious-donna · 4 months
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an: I had this thought and it wouldn’t leave me so please enjoy the filth of my brain 😌 short but sweet…
pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: suggestive, dirty talk, public setting, reader is very embarrassed by their situation
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Frozen in place in the midst of the grocery store, you dared not to move. A slow trickle escaped your body and you firmly clenched your thighs together in the hopes of preventing anything further from leaking out. This was mortifying, this would be the thing that turned you into dust to blow across the wind for the rest of time.
A large hand found the small of your back, warm and familiar, followed by a concerned voice by your ear. “Something wrong, honey?”
You whipped around to him, face growing impossibly warm and sweaty at the immediate imagery of honey dripping from its pot. The slow sensual pour of sticky nectar prickled down your spine, and you wondered if he already knew of your current plight. Kento’s eyebrows rose towards his neat hairline, completely oblivious, despite your worries to the contrary, but he did sense your discomfort.
“Don’t you honey me,” you whisper yelled, poking a sharp finger into the centre of his chest. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”
“Talk you into… grocery shopping? We both need to eat, sweetheart,” he answered with a poorly disguised chuckle.
Kento turned to examine the fresh produce, squeezing mangoes to find one nearing ripeness, and you damn near dropped to the floor at the sight. His impossibly large hand encased the whole fruit, fingers flexed around the fleshy skin and all you could think of was how that was exactly how he would squeeze and grope at your breasts.
You took a step closer—drip.
“Kento…” you whined pathetically, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and doing your damnedest not to dance on the spot like a child in need of the nearest bathroom.
With a sigh, he placed the basket hooked over his other hand on the floor and brought you into the shelter of his body. His chin rested on your head whilst your arms encircled his waist, holding him gently and only for a moment before pulling away.
“I’m leaking.”
Kento paused, perplexed. “You’re what?”
This was so embarrassing and he was going to make you spell it out for him. “What did we do before grocery shopping?”
“We showered, you cooked breakfast and I—oh.”
The penny finally dropped and you could kick him for the shit eating grin that spread across his face. You weren’t accustomed to such obvious delight etched over his features and at your expense too!
Before you could think to follow through with kicking his shin or huffing and puffing, he pulled you into his side and lowered his mouth to your ear. The warm fan of his breath sent goosebumps rippling up and down your arms and your pulse quickened.
“Am I right in saying that my seed is leaking out of you?” He asked coolly, as if he was asking you an everyday question like what type of cheese should we buy this week.
You nodded, afraid of your own voice right now.
Kento hummed. “Then I clearly didn’t fuck it deep enough. We’ll have to remedy that. How does it feel? I’ll bet it’s all warm from your hot little pussy.”
“Kento!”
“That’s right, my love. That’s how you screamed my name when I had your ankles by your ears. Mm, my sweet honeypot.”
If you weren’t melting already, you certainly were now. Your body betrayed you wilfully, the walls of your cunt pulsing to push more of the creamy cum into the seat of your underwear. Kento laced his fingers with yours and began to guide you down the aisle, but you walked on stiff legs, so afraid of what might leak down your thigh if you moved normally.
“I’m stuck! What if I make a mess? I can’t stand here all day,” you squeaked much to Kento’s amusement. He was enjoying your predicament far too much, the wicked man that he was.
“Shall I find you a cart to sit inside?”
“You’re not funny mister…”
“Oh, but I’m not laughing, darling. You’ve let my gift escape, which I find rather rude. I intend to finish this shop fast and replace what you’ve lost.”
You blinked, lashes fluttering in rapid succession. The weight of molten heat dropped into the pit of your stomach. He couldn’t be serious.
Gently, he hooked your arm through his and patted your hand. His face was unreadable once more, eyes scanning the produce and placing items into his retrieved basket. So handsome, so calm, yet beneath the mask lay a man capable of ruining you with words alone.
“Come along, dear. I’ve just remembered we’re all out of honey… not that we don’t have ample supply of our own,” he whispered the last part beneath his breath.
“You’ll always be sweeter than honey to me.”
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reidmania · 2 months
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I MISS YOU IM SORRY | spencer reid
good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist!!
summary; Spencer calls after being broken up for a month.
warnings ; fem reader, hopeful/happy ending, angst, exes to lovers, mentions of arguments, breakups, miscommunication, avoidant reader, loving spencer, break up bc reader pushed him away bc of self doubt, pretty tame. i love this i think
an ; RAHH fic twoooooo ehehehe. risk is coming soon i just had to pump out the angst really quick ok bare w me!!
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You said, "Forever, " in the end I fought it Please be honest, are we better for it? Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called And said, "I miss you", I caught it. You said, "Forever, " and I almost bought it I miss fightin' in your old apartment. Breakin' dishes when you're disappointed. I still love you, I promise. Nothin' happened in the way I wanted. Every corner of this house is haunted And I know you said that we're not talkin' But I miss you, I'm sorry
The call came as a shock. When you were holding onto the doors of your pantry, leaning back slightly as your eyes skimmed over the contents of it — Which was not a lot. You we’re thinking about that fact you needed to go grocery shopping.
How long could you avoid that?
It started right after you and Spencer broke up, where you refused to go because of the chance that you might see Spencer there. It was right between yours and his apartment so the chances weren’t completely low — and normally you and Spencer did the grocery shopping together.
It would normally consist of you dancing around the store picking up random things and Spencer watching you fondly as he pushed the cart. He would mutter something about what was healthiest and you would hum approvingly then grab the opposite of whatever he suggest because it ‘tasted better’ He would chuckle and press his lips to the top of your head.
You wanted to relive that so bad that the idea of being inside the shops without him seemed so wrong. It felt like doing something behind his back. Like watching an episode of the show you two were watching together without him. It just felt wrong.
So you decided you would go to a different shop, an hour drive away. Just to be safe, but who just had time for that?
Which was how your pantry had gotten near empty.
You still had the big bag of his coffee beans that he left here. The ones you weren’t a fan of buy it didn’t matter because Spencer would compromise and just buy both, or just yours. You had use all of yours and started using the ones he left here.
They left a bitter taste on your tongue and a sweet sensation down the back of your throat, they were strong and kept you awake for hours longer than your normal ones did — but weirdly enough; they felt like home.
The bag was brand-less, and you should’ve memorised what it was you were sure you knew. You just couldn’t remember.
How were you suppose to ask? Call him? Message him? Pop by his house and ask. You were sure if he got any soft of contact from you— about anything, you would be blocked in milliseconds. The feeling that thought provided made your stomach tighten more than you’d like to admit.
You almost stumbled over your own feet when you closed the pantry as your phone started to ring, you saw it light up with a contact but your mind paid little attention as you answered, not even actually looking at your phone, your attention elsewhere.
“Hello?” You muttered as you walked towards the coffee machine you and Spencer had decided to get as an anniversary present. To fuel both your coffee addictions. You shoulder held your phone against your ear as you grabbed the bag of coffee beans — Spencers coffee beans.
You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone, “Hey.” The voice. His voice. Tired and groggy as if he had just woken up but you knew him well enough to know he didn’t. You pulled your phone away from your ear as your mind clouded foggy. Your eyes danced over his contact for a moment. He was calling you — He called you. it sent familiar butterflies to your ribcage.
“Spencer?” You exhaled, despite already knowing it was him. You wondered if maybe this was some prank, if he was just calling because he needed something or maybe to call you and degrade you over every mistake you made in the ending of your relationship — you deserved that.
He had every right to hate you for how things ended, he had every right to hate you, period. You had assumed that was how he felt towards you. Hatred. You knew he loved you throughout your relationship, that wasn’t something you had to question but the idea of that still being the case after everything unfolded the way it did.. It didn’t even seem fathomable.
“Hi” He repeated. His voice was low and quiet, you didn’t know what that meant and it was driving you insane. Your feet pattered around the house suddenly feeling cold in the kitchen. Nothing but memories fogging your mind every corner you looked — that didn’t go away as you moved around the house. It was filled by him and it was consuming you whole. 
You let out a heavy breath. “Do you need something?” It didn’t come out how you wanted it to. It wasn’t harsh or anything but your voice weakened half way through your words making embarrassment creep up the back of your neck.
The other side of the phone was silent for a minute, making anxiety pool in your stomach. Your head tilted as you sat on the corner of the couch, wrapping yourself in the blanket on the couch — the one you used more often than you’d like to admit, since some night sleeping in the bed that was suppose to be shared with Spencer felt all too consuming, the way his scent lingered faintly over the sheets and his little nothings covered the window sill, his jacket still hung up in the closet.
“Spence are you okay?” The nickname fell from your lips before you could try to stop it. You heard a muffled sound on the other end of the phone making your stomach twist. Slight worry and confusion filled the wrinkles by your eyes as you squinted slightly.
“Ye- Im.. Im okay” He breathed out his voice heavy and filled with something you couldn’t place if you tried. You were sure it was an emotion you had felt since you felt a sick feeling of familiarity in your abdomen. “I just- Can we talk?” He asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed as your knees pulled to your chest. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” You asked, in your mind there was a point to this conversation, there was something specific he needed to talk to you about or why else would he call. He wouldn’t, you thought.
“No-Not like that, i just- I just want to talk to you, about anything. Whatever you want I just—” There was a pause, his voice got quiet, almost a whisper, “I miss you.” The words that left his lips buried themselves deep inside your chest, building themselves a home there.
Your head span. He said it so quietly you were scared you might’ve missed it if he said it any quieter. But you didn’t, you caught it. A deep breath left your chest as your hand came to your forehead, your mind was so focused on the fact that, he missed you. He called because he missed you. You almost forgot to answer him. You figured if he said the comment so quietly, maybe he didn’t want a reply on it, so you continued on with the conversation as the words interfered with the rhythmic beating of your heart.
“What coffee beans to do you buy?” You settled on. You heard him chuckle on the other side of the phone before passing a comment asking ‘why? You hated them’ It made your heart flutter uncomfortablely. The two of you continued talking about coffee beans for ten minutes before he muttered about how he had to go, you knew it was probably work related. But god he sounded so sad saying it.
“Spencer?” You asked softly, your voice coming out quieter than what you expected. You heard his soft hum on the other side of the phone. You didn’t want to admit how much you missed him, how your entire being craved him every minute of everyday regardless of what you did — nothing in the world could fill the him-shaped- hole that took up the space of your gut.
“I’m sorry” You apologised and you hoped it was clear you were apologising for everything, for the arguments, for the breakup, for pushing him away for no real good reason beside your own self doubt. It was the sorry you were too proud to mutter out a month ago.
There was a moment on the other side of the phone where you were almost convinced he was going to hang up — you worried you brought up what he didn’t want to talk about.
But instead, “I miss you.” He said louder this time, as if he believed you didn’t hear it the first time. The words made your stomach clench tightly and your muscles both tighten and relax at the same time.
You sigh, you should have shut up. He had to go, you know that but the words came out honestly as “I still love you” You said. You wanted to slap yourself in the face, now you really weren’t gonna be surprised if he hung up and blocked you.
There was a heavy breath, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. “Well-“ He huffed, “If you still love me, and- I still love you..” He muttered out intentionally, hoping you caught on to what he was insinuating. Your mind however was captivated by the fact that, he still loved you.
“We should probably talk” He finished when you didn’t, “Please?” It was thrown in there both to use manners and to show how badly he wanted this. You weren’t ever gonna say no in the first place.
“We should. Do you need to go grocery shopping?” You asked, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you almost smiled. You could almost imagine his confusion.
“Um— I guess that depends —Do you?” He asked. You huffed out a small laugh, nodding your head absentmindedly as you realised he couldn’t see you. “Do you still go to-“
He cut you off, “No. No i started going to the one across town, about an hour away” He said, honestly. You head tilted slightly as you realised he started going to the one you were going to. The conversation continued as you both ignored — or forgot the fact he needed to go.
“Why?”
“So you didn’t feel uncomfortable if I was there when you were” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It made your stomach scrunch up and your chest to bruise your ribcage as the beating of your heart only increased.
“Let’s go grocery shopping, at our shop. Then um— you can come here and I can make you coffee?” You suggested slightly awkwardly, as you worried about the chance of rejection and the embarrassment you would feel.
“It’s a date.” He smiled, you could hear it in his voice.
“Okay.” You exhaled out.
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itaipava · 10 months
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— little things about a relationship with f1 boys.
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˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS
playfully pushing each other’s buttons simply because you can. feigning forgetting important days to surprise you later. falling asleep together to the sound of the rain. sports, video games, boardgames because a couple that plays together, stays together. laughing so hard you can’t breathe. unpredictable hugs.  encouraging each others’ hobbies and interests. inside jokes. lots of it. so many couple selfies. wearing his hoodies and shirts. going on double dates. constantly doing movie marathons. saying “love you” at the end of every phone call.
˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO
lunch dates. living your best life together. laughing and singing freely. sweet little texts throughout the day to check in on you. “how was your day?” subconsciously pulling you closer in his sleep. lovingly looking at each other just because. sharing umbrella in the rain/sun. taking photos for each other. “goodbye” and “hello” kisses. road trips - sometimes spontaneous and sometimes carefully planned for weeks prior. running hands through each other’s hair. cooking and doing the dishes together afterwards. little foot massages. never forgetting to say “thank you” for the little things.
˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ
him looking at you when you’re not looking and the soft, comfortable eye contact when you catch him looking and neither looking away as you giddily smile at each other. him saving extra treats like chocolate or candy for you and slipping them in your pocket as a little surprise. him subconsciously sniffing your hair or neck before hugging you even tighter. tracing your features with his fingertips during afternoon cuddles by the window because he finds you so beautiful. always looking at each other first when you find something funny. conversations at midnight, at 3 a.m, at early in the morning, evening, afternoon. it’s falling a little more in love with each inner thought and idea shared. flirty and cheesy words exchanged just because. smiling and laughing till your faces and stomachs hurt.
˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC
stolen gazes in public that become stolen smiles then stolen kisses in the dark. even when surrounded by other people, his eyes always find you and yours him. loving each other’s company so much that you lose track of time; sitting at a corner table in a quaint little café — that later becomes your spot — talking about your ideas and thoughts and dreams for hours and hours until the waiter interrupts, asking you to order again or to leave. him instinctively putting his hand on your knee or on your waist when someone tries to flirt with you. surprise back hugs and soft kisses on the shoulder. innocent neck kisses in an attempt to tickle the other.
˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON
already acting like a married couple as well as best-friends. saying “honey, i’m home.” breakfast in bed. taking long walks together. watching tv while cuddling. soft laughter. him doing your manicures. soaking in the warm tub together. little glances at each other when in public, in your own little world. slow kisses. slow dances. fancy and traditional dinner dates. “we’re in this together.” taking things slow. giving each other fashion advice. going shopping together. trying on clothes and posing for each other. late night phone calls. wanting to be around each other so much that you make up excuses to have more time together before the date or the hang-out ends. him adoringly looking at you when you’re not looking. matching jewelry
˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI
being each other’s home and safe haven. casual pda; the hand-holding; having his arm slung over your shoulder; clinging onto his side while walking. leaning closer to each other to whisper inside jokes in public. secrets exchanged at 3 a.m under the covers, facing each other, fingers absentmindedly trailing on one another’s skin. knowing what the other is trying to say with just a look. looking at each other in public, not touching but feeling close. him adoringly watching you from the bed while you do your skincare in front of the vanity table; locking gazes in the mirror, playful smirks forming on your faces. innocent neck kisses. taking plenty of couple selfies/mirror selfies together. unintentionally matching outfits and laughing about it.
˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN
it’s acting like an old married couple. enjoying doing the mundane things together. making bad jokes then staring at each other and your faces breaking out in grins and soft laughter. saying one thing but meaning the complete opposite: it’s ‘i hate you’s with loving smiles. accepting each other’s flaws and falling even more in love for them. him giving you his hoodie so that you can wear it when you’re cold or use it as a makeshift blanket. him poking your sides at the most random moments and giving you a mischievous, teasing half-smile when you tell him to stop. facetime calls at night for ‘a few minutes’ that end up lasting for hours with you falling asleep on call and him taking screenshots of it to tease you later but also end up staring at your peaceful, sleeping face with the softest smile.
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