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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:

AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?

I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.

For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.

None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.

The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.

He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.

I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."

I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.

Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?

What are these acronyms?

Original post

The update

#aita #am i the asshole #the saga of proposal anon

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shotmrmiller · 2 months

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Ghost knew that declining any type of work in this industry wasn't ideal. He can do as he likes because Ghost is a name everyone knows, a porn actor no one forgets.

Unlike you, the newcomer. Still so green behind the ears.

So, with a downturn of your alluring lips, you inform him that the meeting to go over the upcoming threesome with Price would have to wait.

"My manager sent me an email this morning, very last minute, about a video I'm gonna shoot with Gaz."

The fingers that were tugging your hair still. "Oh yeah? Know wha' kinda scene your doin'?"

You softly hum. "He's to be my handyman neighbor. Gotta bat my eyes at him as I ask if he can come fix my kitchen sink."

Kyle's a decent bloke, a looker for sure.

He's an up-and-coming entertainer. The pretty boy next door, the brother's best friend type.

Face as if sculpted from marble, a smile to die for.

Beautiful, really. Not particularly Ghost's type though, he likes a little more meat on his bottoms. Not that what he thinks matters, of course.

"Tha's alrigh', love. We'll postpone it to after then, yeah?"

Ghost quietly sits behind Price with his arms crossed, never taking his sharp eyes off the small screen. Even though Kyle is there too, all he can see is you. Your rosy tongue tantalizingly licks your bottom lip as you give Kyle a once-over.

Smart fingers undoing the button on his trousers, hooking into the waistband, carefully pulling them down until they puddle at his ankles.

The way you gaze up at him through your lashes, with his cock in your pert mouth, taking him in until the tip of your nose grazes his trimmed pubic hair.

How your neck cranes back so beautifully, eyes fluttering closed as Kyle slides his expert tongue through your slick folds. Your soft thighs trembling as you buck into his mouth, the heels of your feet digging into his back. Ghost's ears catch the sound of your breath hitching, while his eyes feast on the delectable sight of your back arching off the kitchen counter as you reach your peak.

His fingers sink into his thick bicep when Kyle doesn't relent after; continues to lap away at your sodden cunt, pressing tiny kisses on your sensitive clit. Ghost's spine straightens instantly when he hears your pained whimper.

It's too much, Kyle needs to back off before he forcibly gets him off of you—

It takes less than a minute for you to reach another peak, squealing as you come.

Your airy laugh dissolves the tension in his shoulders and leans back into his chair.

Good.

He drinks in the euphoric expression on your face when Kyle slowly sinks into your wet heat— your sweet moan forever music to his ears. Ghost watches you jolt back on the counter with every sharp snap of Kyle's slim hips. He hears the breath punched out of you with each thrust. He can see your white, creamy release around the base of Kyle's thick length, strings of slick connecting you two.

Your hands curl around Kyle's forearms, your shaky legs wrapping around his waist.

Ghost's eyes narrow when Kyle leans forward to whisper something into your ear, and you mewl loudly. Ghost clenches his jaw so tightly that he hears a pop.

Kyle's got stamina, Ghost'll give him that. He fucked you through three orgasms until he finally pulled out and spurted thick cum over your mons.

Price calls it a wrap, and the crew begins to take down the lights and such.

Ghost doesn't move from the chair he's in, knowing that you'll come to him, even on unsteady legs.

And walk over you do, slowly but surely. "Hi, Ghost." He pats his thigh invitingly, gesturing you to sit.

"Hey, love. You did so well," he praises. "Looked a dream."

As you glance down in embarrassment, his dark eyes lock onto Kyle's, who stands with a cold water bottle in hand across the room. "Flatterer."

He holds Kyle's gaze a couple more seconds before flicking them to you. "Only tellin' the truth, pet. Alrigh', let's get outta here. Ya hungry?"

He places an arm around your lower back, the other under your knees, and lifts you off his lap.

"Don't even try to pull tha' dietin' bullshit on me either," he chides.

He huffs in amusement when you sputter.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x you #kyle gaz garrick #cod smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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gglitch1dd · 13 days

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Hello! Could you please do a prohero!husband!deku x reader after an argument and deku is apologizing for blowing up at his wife after a long day? BTW I love your works!!

It's been a Long Day.

Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader

Izuku walked through the door with a heavy sigh. He used his foot to close the door as he entered your shared apartment. His shoulders dropped at the fact that he was back home. He honestly was only looking forward to coming back here. He trudged past the entranceway, slipping off his shoes and putting on his slippers.

He started walking when he heard your voice.

"Izuku!" You let out, your head peaking out of the kitchen with a smile. He mustered a gentle smile for you despite not being in the mood. "You're back."

"I am." He answered back as he shuffled into the kitchen where you were busy.

"That's great! Because Mrs Hinata called and she wanted to know about the opening about the Little Heroes school and how we wanted to set up the dorm rooms." You started talking as he watched you just about finish lunch. He had gone to work at some unholy hour of night (or morning) and was only coming back now from a 18 hour shift. "I was thinking we can have two children in one room or do you think separate rooms are better?"

Izuku blinked, still not up to speed with what you were talking about. "Uh.."

"Do you think yellow is a good enough colour?"

"Well..."

"Who am I kidding, green is fine. Green, white, gold and black. Our colours should be fine. We can keep the girls rooms predominantly gold and white, and the boys rooms black and gold. Fine with you?"

"I guess-"

"Also Mr Fujita called about Angelica-Nina's vet bills."

Suddenly Izuku felt a headache. He bit back a groan as he put his a hand to his temple. It had been bothering him all morning and Lord knows he could use a nap. Normally he got headaches when he was drained or tired. "Hey sweetheart..." He started with his eyebrows furrowed. "Can we talk la-"

"He said that he sent you the bill but the pet insurance should cover at least sixty percent of that." You told him what you were told from the vet about your pet rabbit. You set out the dumplings, checking if they were ready.

Izuku scratched the back of his head. "I saw his email."

"Great! Your mother also called, she wanted to know whether or whether not we're coming over tomorrow? She's hosting the Bakugous remember?"

"The Bakugous? Then why is she asking us to come?" He asked as he moved to drop his bag on the table. He leaned back against the counter.

You paused for a moment before turning to look at him. You tilted your head confused. "Because she wants to? What's wrong with the Bakugous?"

Izuku let out a soft cynical chuckle as he kept his eyes closed. "What's wrong with the Bakugous? Well, nothing other than the fact that they are your ex's parents."

You paused as you grabbed a cloth, wiping your hands clean. "Yah, but they're good people they're very nice."

Izuku felt another pang of a headache hit him. He frowned. "No, Masaru is a good person, Mitsuki still wishes that you were with Katsuki."

You thought for a second. "No she doesn't."

"Yes she does."

"No, she doesn't."

"Y/N-"

"Izuku, the Bakugous and I are good friends. They designed our outfits for one of the galas we went to this year. I don't see what's the problem."

He sighed. "I-"

"Also you promised me that you'd make sure that you would fix the drawer upstairs." Another pang hit his head making him suck in a breath. He needs to lay down. He bit back a groan, everything feeling so loud. "I thought you'd get it done. And what about the rooms, you still haven't answered me on that. The opening is in two months and-"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, Y/N, COULD YOU PLEASE STOP TALKING FOR LIKE 5 SECONDS PLEASE!" He shouted putting a hand to his head as he turned away from you for a moment.

He closed his eyes as he took a moment to let his headache subside. He took a deep breath before exhaling. It took him a moment before he finally felt like he could function again. He let out a sigh as he opened his eyes.

However you weren't there anymore. You were gone, out of the kitchen, leaving him alone. "Y/N?" He asked confused as he looked around. He didn't hear your voice answering him. He looked around for a moment. He paused when he realised he had blown up at you. He closed his eyes with a sigh. "Y/N! Y/N come back! I'm sorry." He apologised as he moved around to try and find you.

He didn't hear your steps going up the stairs so he knew you were still downstairs. He looked around, looking through open doors until he finally found you sitting in the rabbits' room, holding Valentino-Nino in your lap. The brown rabbit sat safely there allowing you to pet him.

Izuku stood at the doorway. "Y/N. I'm sorry." He apologised. You didn't respond. "I didn't mean it. Can you please not ignore me."

"I thought you wanted me to stop talking." You let out lowly.

Izuku turned around to put his back against the doorframe. He took a moment as he tried to ignore the throbbing in his head. "I'm sorry. I just had a long day and I've had this throbbing headache for the past few hours. I didn't mean to lash out at you like that." He said truthfully. You could hear how drained he was in his voice and you knew it was unlike Izuku to lash out at you even when he disagreed with you or was angry.

You looked down at your pet rabbit who had moved his head so that you would scratch under his chin. You sighed. "I'm sorry about your headache." You said softly as you looked down away from him. "I know you work so hard and I wasn't being considerate. I was just so excited to have you back home. I'm sorry."

Izuku's shoulders dropped as he looked down at you. He shook his head. "No sweetheart, no I'm sorry." He said seriously as he crouched down to sit down in front of you. He put a hand on your knee and you looked up to him. "You don't have to apologise. I love it when you're excited to see me and want to talk to me. Truly I do. You're the one easy thing in my day, my love." He gave you a genuine smile. "I just... it's been a long day."

You gave him a gentle smile. You pat his leg. "You should go freshen up and eat something so you can nap. I'm sure your headache is just because you're tired. They're just the body's way of saying we need rest or something's wrong" Your advice made Izuku sigh with a nod.

"That would be great."

You reached forward and placed a kiss on his face. "Okay."

-Glitch1d

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #mha izuku #deku x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #izuku x you #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader angst #deku x y/n #deku x you

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verysium · 5 months

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This is such crack brain fart idea 😶

What if some blue lock boys ask the reader what brand her shoes (or something dumb like that) over text and reader sent them a voice message on text and it’s just:

“Hi baby, okay so the brand is—- *insert car accident noises*”

Have you seen those TikToks???

If you do this request, it can be any blue lock boys you want

HELPPP i saw something similar on hinge, and i was hunched over the side of my bed laughing for like 20 minutes. in general, i don't think pranks with any of the bllk boys would go well (unless you wanted to be punted like a football, american-style) but i'm taking a risk today, so here you go:

sae sees through your bullshit in a peloponnesian minute. he has morning practice, three interviews, and a daily nap to get to, so what makes you think he has time for you to fake a car accident? leaves you on read. (brutal, i know.)

rin is mildly concerned, but he's too smart to fall for whatever prank you have planned. he'd probably reply with a sarcastic, dry ass response or a deadpan emoji. refuses to talk to you for the rest of the day because what if you actually got into a car accident? he would lose all sanity. tbh he can't stand it when people make light of serious situations even if it's just a lighthearted joke.

kaiser is petty. he sends you an official funeral invite titled "in loving memory of y/n." he personally designed it in photoshop and even added those tacky glitter rose GIF animations on the front. coincidentally, everyone in your immediate circle also happened to receive the same mass email chain with those invites, so you had to explain to your family, friends, and co-workers that (1) you did not in fact die in a car accident and (2) your funeral is not set for the 15th. (you never played a prank on michael again.)

isagi freaks out. he's calling 911/119, whatever emergency service there is. immediately calls you and nearly breaks down in fear of losing you. when you tell him it was merely a prank, he laughs in relief but internally he's cursing you out with every colorful name in existence.

ness is isagi but even more high-strung. there is no time to call the ambulance in his mind. he's already thundering down the highway looking for the evidence of your car wreck. calls you and screams ballistically into the speaker: "WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU?" so yeah....don't ever play a prank on ness. it's for your sake, not his.

shidou takes you up one notch and sends a picture of himself in the emergency room with a cast on his leg and an IV drip. this spawn of satan took your message literally and decided to copy you and got into a real car accident. so now you have to take time off work and sign the hospital discharge papers because he listed you as his sole emergency contact.

nagi doesn't give a shit. he's already chronically online, and reo's played pranks on him before. probably texts you an "ok" and then tells you he's run out of toilet paper again, so you need to stop by the store to buy some.

reo matches your energy. he replies with: oh yeah, i've heard of that brand. it's the—*insert sound of trucks colliding and screeches across asphalt* you both had a good laugh after.

ok that's all i have for now. this is going to reach a very niche demographic, but you're welcome.

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hecateslore · 3 months

Text

💌

Officesupervisor!Simon, walk with me!

"Have these documents uploaded, I have an important meeting with my boss at 1200. I need them as soon as possible." Simon drops the stack of papers on your desk with a loud thwack, causing others to look over their cubicles. You roll your eyes as he turns to walk back into his office. Not understanding military time you just assume before your lunch.

Working as a VSO had it's perks, you got to sit in an office, and if all of your work was done before a certain time you'd just dick around the rest of the day! Which was great at least when you weren't working the front of the office- answering calls, helping people apply for loans or setting old people up with life insurance.

You type away on your computer, air-pod in one ear as you try and quickly finish the task before 12:25 so one, you can take your lunch and have a smoke break (if you don't smoke ignore this lmao), and two; get away from the man child who employs you.

Finishing up at 11:56, you gather the documents into a large file and send them to Simon's work email. Getting a very dry response, you exit out the tabs on your computer and get ready to take an early lunch, hurriedly trying to clock out before someone stops you for some help or if you could finish this set of paper work.

A ping comes from your desktop causing your eyeballs to roll back into your head, fully expecting one of your coworkers emailing you about some unimportant time sheet, or a email you sent three years ago that they told you to void that day, but now they need it or whatever.

[email protected]

Subject: Brief Meeting

Come to my office, I need to go over what you just sent me.

Talk soon,

S.R.

A groan leaves your mouth as you push your rolly chair from your desk and get up, a pit in your stomach. Usually when Simon calls someone to his office they're getting ready to say bye bye! Simon was known for his no muss no fuss attitude, he wasn't completely stern but he was assertive. Extremely passive aggressive but everyone decides to ignore it. He likes his work a certain way, he's a punctual man, so when people failed to meet his employment standards- there was no trouble in ridding them.

The military background is no help either, he's very observant to the point it's annoying. Constantly calling staff meetings because he doesn't like the way a certain someone files the paperwork, greets a customer, writes a letter, answers the phone. You don't really care for him, You just come in do your work, greet your peers then leave, sometimes you work over time if rent is near, but that's pretty much it. You make good money here, you can't afford to lose your job, not now- not ever. Reaching his office door, You knock before hearing his muffled" come in."

Entering his room, Simon sits behind his rather large desk, clicking away at something on the screen, hand under his chin as if he's really paying attention. "You can have a seat right there" he points to the chair with a folder that was thick with paper work, you lift the "folder" handing it to him then finally planting yourself in the chair before him.

"I assume you're confused as to why you're here." Simon pushes his monitor for a better view of you. "A little bit. " you chuckle nervously,

"The documents you sent me I looked over them, and your work.." Simon pauses to pull up the file you sent not even forty-five minutes ago. "You managed to mess up 6 of these documents, not even adding the time you uploaded them." he sighs, "I don't see how you've been here for what? two? three years?"

"2." you answer, "I was crunched with time." you add, "Not an excuse. I told you I needed these done before my meeting, not rushed, not half-assed. Completed." you sit in your chair, the pit moving up slightly in your body "If we mess up, we can get sued; and you will lose your job, you're aware of that?" A lump forms in your throat.

"This is a warning, but If this happens again, I'll have no trouble finding a replacement." You nod quickly, "It won't happen again."

"I'm sure." he looks down at wrist, "It's almost your lunch I'm assuming." you nod once more, "Is there anything else?" you ask hoping to God this was it, "Stop wearing your headphones when you work, it's against the rules and make sure to close my door when you leave."

You get up from your chair and zoom to the door, making sure to shut it behind you. Your coworkers looking at you from behind their screens, some sending you a sympathetic smile as you walk back to your cubicle. You clock out on your computer, grab your bag and head towards the front to leave. You walk to the grocery store in the strip mall where your job's located, buying a Turkey and Cheese Croissant also a Matcha Latte (this is my order heheheeeee). You sit outside the stores mini patio, going over the events that just happened. "I'm sure" kept ringing through your head, this was the first time you ever been talked to! screw him (you'd like to! 😏).

You'd always been on time, your customers never complained about your services, you fill out paperwork for christ's sake. And god forbid you need some kind of stimulation while you stare at blue light all day. I mean who can work without music?

You finish your lunch and decide to walk around the mart a little bit before you get back. Dreading the looks from everyone, having to see the emails, talk to the elderly about burial benefits. It's all so annoying.

You make it back to the office doing your regular routine for after lunch, making sure to put your other headphone on the other ear so your boss wouldn't notice. You check your emails once more

[email protected]

Subject: Spread sheets

Attachment 1

Attachment 2

I need these filled in by Thursday next week, the first attachment is the paper work they've dropped off.

Second attachment is the spread sheet, match the date to the paper work. DOUBLE CHECK YOUR WORK!!

Thanks in advance.

S.R.

"Thanks in advance." you mock his accent earning a very hard sid-eye from the lady next to you.

"what a dick" you mumble to yourself.

supervisor!simon

#OfficeRomance💌#Supervisor!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost cod #cod mw3 #task force 141

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luveline · 6 months

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hi lovely :) i have a request for you!!

i’m thinking spencer reid x reader (and platonic!bau team if you don’t mind!!) where reader is having a bit of a rough time with mental health, but is 1 year clean and they have a lil celebration? thank you!!

-🍓 (this is my application for being an emoji anon lmao)

hi, thank you! ♡ fem 1k

cw implied drug use

You're expecting your boyfriend's voice when a hand touches your shoulder, but it's actually Hotch that speaks. "Good morning. Are you feeling alright?"

You meet his furrowed brow with a softer expression. "Morning, Hotch. I'm good, I'm," —you stretch your arms out in front of you in a lie— "just really tired."

"Take it easy today, okay?" You nod quickly. "Okay. And Y/N? Well done."

You enjoy the shoulder squeeze he gives you and hide your abject puzzlement as he heads up the steps to his office, briefcase in hand. It's always nice to be doted on, but what's today?

"Hello," a new voice says, a hand again on your shoulder, ducking down to kiss you behind the ear. Here's your expected boyfriend, Spencer's voice low and spectacularly sweet, "Good morning. You're here early, I haven't even made you coffee."

"That's okay, I can make it."

His arms cross over your chest. He touches you so confidently, his lack of hesitance a great encouragement; it's hard to find room to feel insecure about things when Spencer seems to see no faults in you. Hard, but not impossible.

As though he can sense your rough morning (rough week, rough month), he holds you that second longer than usual, lips like angora silk where they touch to your cheek. "I'll make it, thanks. It's the least you deserve today."

"Right," you say. He strokes your shoulder with his thumb in farewell, leaving you wondering. Today isn't your birthday, you'd probably know if it were.

"Hey, good morning!" Emily says as she arrives, thrusting her bag and her travel mug onto her desk before she descends on you.

It's her hug that breaks the camel's back, so to speak. You give her hands an absent minded hold but pull back in her embrace. "Emily," you say, frowning at her, "what's so special about today?"

She blinks like she's worried to tell you, but she gets it together and hugs you again. "You're one year clean today. Everybody's so proud of you," she says quietly.

You almost bite the tip of your tongue off. "How do you know that?" you ask. The thing about staying clean is that it haunts you until it doesn't. Some people can't ever beat it, and some people can. It's been a huge struggle for you, but eventually relapsing stopped feeling like an option, especially while you've been with Spencer. You can't do anything to jeopardise your safety while you're with him, you just can't. (That doesn't mean you haven't desperately wanted to.)

"Well, I knew it would've been around now, but Spencer sent us a memo. Nothing too detailed, you know, but we all…" She smiles at you wryly. "We care about you so much, and we didn't get it right with Spencer."

No, they didn't. Spencer didn't get half the support he deserved, so he's making sure you do.

There's something of a mental block in you that doesn't allow you to cry, but this shakes you roughly. Emily gives you a sorry smile and a last quick hug, apologising that she has to go and speak to Hotch before the work day officially begins. You lean back in your chair and click dazedly on an email from Penelope detailing how deeply loved you are and wondering if you'd like to go shopping. I know today might be really hard, so if you need me you know where I am. Love Pen.

"You okay?" Spencer asks, placing your coffee in front of you on the desk.

"Come and sit with me for a bit."

You don't sound like you're asking, but you are. Spencer hears the need in your demand and immediately grabs his chair to sit next to you. You're surprised he didn't squat.

You turn your face, lay your cheek on the short back of the chair uncomfortably, and take him in. He looks great these days, the memory of a young man firmly buried beneath a well-fitting suit, a cropping of facial hair, and the subtle, lean lines of muscle especially evident as he sits back to copy you, curls falling into his eyes. "You told everyone about my anniversary."

"Your accomplishment," he corrects quietly. "I did."

"I do want them to know, just… I feel a bit raw." You hardly remembered yourself, though you knew it was soon.

Spencer takes your hand, pulling the joined pair between his knees. "It's something to be extremely proud of. And there's nothing wrong with celebrating it."

"It's embarrassing–"

"It isn't." He sits up as someone comes closer and you follow suit. This is a complicated conversation and your simple intimacies are necessary but inappropriate in the workplace. "I'm sure there are a ton of people who find sobriety embarrassing, but those are all people who don't know what it feels like to have to do it. We," —his voice softens— "do. I know exactly how it feels, and I know exactly how you've been feeling lately, so I'm proud of you and everyone else should be too."

"How I've been feeling lately?" you ask.

"Come on." Spencer stands and takes your face into his hands. One is warmer than the other, and he uses it to stroke the baby hair's at your ear very gently. "You do a really good job at hiding how you feel, but you can't hide from me."

"I'm not trying to."

"Good," he says, leaning down to kiss you. A soft, brisk connection. "I love you."

"Not as much as I do, loverboy!" Morgan says as he arrives, giving Spencer a little nudge as he needles his arms behind your back and kisses your cheek.

"You're squeezing me."

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Morgan asks, squeezing your harder.

"Morgan, she knows you know."

"Know what?"

"You didn't see the memo?" Spencer asks.

"What memo?" Morgan grins at you with pearly white teeth and scrubs at your shoulders until you're squirming at the pressure. It's nice. "Looking good, gorgeous."

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

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cloakedsparrow · 16 days

Text

Bat Family 'Bruce is Tim's biological parent' AU Idea #1

Wherein Jack Drake: a) Regularly tags along on archaeological digs despite not being an archaeologist. b) Commonly smuggles home archaeological finds despite that not being legal. c) Does not believe in curses, hauntings, or any mythology despite the world that he lives in being populated with *gestures at comics* all that.

As a result, Jack is like a magnet for cursed objects and keeps smuggling the damned things home.

The first time little Timmy suspects this is happening, he knows his dad won't respond well to him suggesting the most recent package he sent home is haunted. He knows he'll respond even worse if he tries to get anyone else involved. So he sends his mom a private email explaining what's going on. Janet replies that he's right to be suspicious, that this has absolutely happened before, and that he was right to contact her. She tells him she's sending over a friend who can help and gives him a password that she'll tell the friend so he knows it's okay to let him in the house.

John Constantine shows up within the hour. Tim is certain he didn't drive there (the alert that someone passed through the gates never went off and no one put in a code to open them) but there is a cursed object in his house and John knew the password Janet gave him, so he's mostly just happy to have an adult there to handle the situation. Even if a somewhat bizarre adult.

John takes care of the cursed object and is impressed that Tim reacted to it much faster than most do. He gives Tim his card with instructions to call him if anything like what was happening starts to happen again or if anything else weird starts happening after his father has been to any digs or sent home any strange packages.

As Jack is the aforementioned cursed object magnet, Tim ends up calling John fairly often for someone who doesn't actively work with the occult and is, in fact, a child. John keeps praising him for catching on as quick as he does and giving him information to catch onto other types of mystical/magical wickedness. Tim gets really good at recognizing when magic/curses/spirits are at play.

Then, Janet dies and Jack goes into a coma. Tim is fostered by Bruce for a year and a half and doesn't have to worry about curses or haunted objects for all that time. When they do come across something of the occult, Bruce/Batman has his own contacts, so there was never a reason for Tim to bring any of it up.

Then, the events of Identity Crisis/Crisis of Conscience occur, and Bruce doesn't want to talk to Zatanna (his usual mystic go-to) if it can be helped. He doesn't want to call in anyone connected to most of the Justice League if it can be helped.

So when they come across a cursed object, Tim immediately identifies it and tells Bruce not to worry, he knows a guy who can handle it. The man knows his civilian identity, so they'll have to pretend Bruce bought the object as part of an action or estate sale lot.

John comes and handles it. Before he leaves he comments that he's glad Tim's biological father finally decided to step up and that Bruce better take good care of the boy.

When Tim explains that Bruce isn't his father, the look on John's face clearly shows that he's trying to figure out how to back-step, but not in the expected way. More in the 'I let on information i wasn't supposed to' way.

Which is how Bruce and Tim end up running a paternity test in the Cave at four am.

Alfred and Dick are delighted by the results.

[Alternative ending: John pulls Bruce aside to let him know that Janet told him Jack wasn't Tim's father and that both he and Bruce were on the short list and he hadn't known Jack died or he'd have contacted him already. They have to wait to find out which of them is the lucky one. Either Bruce turns out to be the father and John just lets Tim know he can still call him whenever needed or it turns out John is the father and they decide Tim should still stay with Bruce but John has visitations. Also, Tim might have been showing signs of his Homo Magi heritage when he recognized all these cursed objects. John insists on teaching him to use his magic despite Bruce's unease with it.]

#dc #comics #funny #ficlet #fic ideas #fic ideas I haven't the time for #Bat Family #john constantine #bruce wayne #tim wayne #tim drake #jack drake #janet drake

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radiant-reid · 11 months

Text

Exposed

Summary: You and Spencer don't realize how many of your not-safe-for-work conversations have been on the FBI's radar until a memo gets distributed

Word Count 1.0k

Content Warning: NSFW (18+) themes

Similar to how it's never good to get called into the principal's office, it's never good when Hotch calls a meeting in the middle of the day. With no case, active or pending, curious looks get exchanged before the team when Hotch speaks from the landing before you all climb the stairs and follow Hotch to the boardroom.

Spencer slyly sits next to you, pretending he didn't notice Morgan was going to sit there. He taps your foot under the table, which you didn't understand could be flirtatious before you met Spencer.

Always a straight shooter (metaphorically and literally), Hotch doesn't waste any time. He hands a copy of a stapled stack of paper to each of you but stays standing, hinting that it will be a quick meeting. Thankfully, that means nothing is wrong.

Your eyes widen when you read the cover page: Sexual Harassment Memorandum.

A tiny giggle escapes JJ's lips as everyone looks at Penelope and Morgan, who are likely the guilty parties. They both look a little nervous, Penelope grimacing while Morgan stiffens in his seat.

"The brass has caught on to some less-than-work-appropriate language used by members of this team," Hotch informs you all. "And, although we have more important things to do like saving lives, they want this memo of inappropriate language examples distributed."

Besides the hilariousness of the passive-aggressive telling-off, it amuses you that Hotch thinks it's a waste of time.

"Please read through it and refrain from using these words when there's an outside audience." He finishes.

"That outside audience being Erin Strauss," Rossi comments in a low enough whisper Hotch can pretend he didn't hear the insult at his superior.

"That's all." Hotch wraps up the meeting before leaving the room, presumably to finish work that's actually important.

Everyone's wearing amused grins when Hotch leaves. "Busted." Rossi sing-songs to Morgan and Penelope, who are looking very guilty. "Have fun, kids." He laughs before leaving the room.

You notice the thickness of the new list of forbidden phrases. "Damn, how much flirting have you two done since the last time you got in trouble with HR?" You joke, earning a laugh from the table.

The list is amusing to read, everyone laughing at the memories. It was definitely not HR's intent, but it breaks up the monotonous day.

Reading pages ahead, Spencer stiffens next to you, and you're on edge about what he's read. After eight years, he's heard some lewd things come out of Penelope and Morgan's mouths, so it's unlikely one of their comments would have phased him.

You see it when you skim-read a few quotes: you looked sexy in your glasses earlier. You can remember exactly when you typed that. It was a stakeout where you were assigned to sit in a car with Morgan while Spencer sat with Emily, and you were so bored you thought you'd flirt with your boyfriend. It's not too revealing regarding who it was about, and Penelope wears glasses, so hopefully, it goes unnoticed.

It doesn't.

"Wait, I never said that," Morgan says, finger hovering over the quote.

"Which one?" Emily asks, intrigued.

"You looked sexy in your glasses earlier." He repeats what you'd texted Spencer, busting you both. You kick him under the table when you notice the blush spreading around your boyfriend's neck.

The rest of the team is puzzled, not understanding how it couldn't be them. "Are the rest yours?" Emily asks.

"You're on my most-wanted list." Morgan reads the contents of the email Spencer sent you with an attachment to the FBI's updated most wanted list. That one was situationally inappropriate, but you deleted it twice and told Spencer to do the same, so you're not sure how they got it.

They read through a few more that aren’t theirs, and you grow increasingly worried about how curious they will be. There’s no chance they’ll let it go. As profilers, won’t take them long to figure it out, especially when your boyfriend is blushing like a maniac next to you, no matter how much you kick him under the table.

The most damming one is on the last page: that sweater vest is very sexy. Olive green is your color. It’s from a few weeks ago, spoken over Spencer’s earpiece as he infiltrated a poker competition to apprehend an UnSub.

“This is about you.” Emily immediately picks up, looking at Spencer.

“Yeah, and you wore your glasses a couple of months ago,” Penelope remembers. Although he played it off like his contact lenses didn’t get delivered before he ran out, it was really because he left them at his apartment when he stayed at yours one night and you distracted him for so long in the morning that he didn’t have time to get any.

Spencer cringes, looking totally guilty. There’s no point in denying it, so Morgan lays into the next part of the mystery. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

That’s much easier to solve when there are four women around the table, and Penelope couldn’t be sexually attracted to him, JJ’s married, and Emily’s like his big sister, so that leaves you.

“No way!” Penelope squeals excitedly, clearly thrilled by this big reveal.

“Some of this is filthy,” Emily says, pointing out some very dirty messages. They were mostly over phone calls which is why you didn’t think they could be tracked.

You bite your bottom lip, eyes flicking to Spencer. He’s as amused as he is embarrassed. “Surprise?” He jokes to reveal your relationship.

You smirk, joining him in his unashamed stance. It’s not your fault the FBI won’t overlook your occasional flirting. “It’s worse on our personal phones.” You assure them.

“I want to know everything,” Penelope tells you. “We’re having girls’ night ASAP.”

It’s not the reaction you imagine, but Spencer shrugs. He has been reassured countless times that he leaves you more than satisfied in bed. “Just remember you’ll have to look at me the next day.” He warns the BAU ladies who are desperate to hear the insider details of your relationship.

It's a good point to consider but the gossip is too tempting. “Tonight.” Penelope decides.

You laugh at her eagerness, nodding. “Let’s do it.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot

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lazycats-stuff · 8 months

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Batfam x little bat bro

The batbro is a really quiet kid, not non-verbal, just hardly ever talks. He's just quiet all around, when walking, eating, doing whatever. He also likes to stare a lot. Just imagine the kid suddenly appearing in front of Bruce's desk , you can just see his little grabby hands and the upper part of his face, and he just stares. Definitely is the one to accidentally scare them with suddenly appearing even tho he's been here the whole time. The definition of this --->●_●

Lol, it's funny to imagine the batkids scared of a toddler. Only Bruce doesn't gets scared.

Summary: (Y/N) is an odd child.

Warnings: fluff, (Y/N) scares people

Bruce watched as (Y/N) ran outside with Titus. It was nice day outside and Bruce prompted his youngest son to go out and play. (Y/N) didn't have a problem with it and was more than happy to play with Titus.

Bruce took a sip of his coffee as he watched his youngest ran around. Even now, he was still quiet. Not talking at all. Bruce noticed it early on and it did worry him.

Even when he realized that he was that quiet, it still worried him. Usually children are more talkative, but not every child is the same. It was quite funny sometimes to see the boys talking to him and (Y/N) just responding with hums and shakes of his head.

Jason often used it as a form of getting a yes for some questions. What colored shirt to wear. It usually went like, ' which color do you think is better? Blue or red? ' (Y/N) would let out a hum and Jason would answer for himself. ' Red, I hear you. I know red is better. '

And one other thing that made (Y/N) a more different child than the others was the fact that he was quiet. Not in the sense hardly talking, but rather he was quiet when he was approaching one of his brothers.

It caused a lot of scare situations with the other family members. (Y/N) would just walk up, quietly, make grabby hands, seemingly wanting to be picked up.

Jason to this day denies screaming when (Y/N) scared him. And will continue to do so until he dies. Again.

Bruce wasn't outwardly scared, but he couldn't lie when he said that his heart started beating a little bit faster.

Bruce sighed as he was sitting at his office. It was Saturday, but there is a work emergency. He looked at the emails that were sent to him. Something went wrong with a meeting. There was no way he was going to come in for such a minor thing, especially after calling Lucius.

So, he was in contact with the people via emails and phone calls. Bruce also cursed whoever decided to take the business partners to a restaurant. Why?

He looked at some papers, before moving them to the side. He didn't see how the door opened. He flinched when he saw (Y/N), just staring at him, making grabby hands.

Bruce huffed, but picked him up none the less. Another thing that (Y/N) did is starring. Bruce was once scared when he saw (Y/N) standing next to the bed. (Y/N) had a nightmare and he just wanted his father.

" You little rascal. Always so quiet. " Bruce chuckled, kissing the side of (Y/N)'s head. He adjusted (Y/N) so that he was laying comfortably on his chest, then went back to the emails and phone calls.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader

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partycatty · 2 months

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Can you do Johnny and a Fem reader thats taller than him? I'm getting KINDA TIRED of the whole 'u look up at him' thing like... no I don't.

the prompt made me giggle bc i have a mk oc that's taller than most people LOL

johnny cage > improv

johnny meets his new partner in his upcoming action movie, he doesn't expect to be outshined.

notes: johnny's like 6'1 probably, so i'm making the reader somewhere around 6'4ish. just taller. like "look down at him" taller.

[ masterlist ]

a new action movie? hell yeah, no problem, johnny figured as he walked with a sway in his arms. walking onto this set and that set was something he was fairly used to, and he practically owned his little area in this particular studio, considering just how often he picked up their projects. what he didn't anticipate, though, was his usual spot by the temporary living space was taken up by a trailer that was most certainly not his. who uses that color on the exterior?

then again, he thought, maybe something changed. maybe his assistant rented a different model and he was supposed to try it out. so, like the gentleman he is, johnny tries the door to the trailer that opens with a firm click. the last thing he expected was to see a figure at the other end of the trailer, sitting at a screwed-in vanity and humming under their breath.

"excuse me," johnny calls out, crossing his arms as he takes a few more steps inside. "i believe we haven't met."

you swivel in your chair, removing the earbud that was settled in your ear. when you realize who you're talking to, you sit up straight.

"oh," you're surprised he just welcomed himself in. "hello. are... is there something you need?"

johnny swallows, a little weirded out by it all. "yeah, actually. uh... you're in my spot."

"your... spot?" you raise a brow, looking around for the imaginary chair he must have been referring to. "i don't follow."

johnny shakes his head. "it's... nevermind. this spot on the lot is usually for the lead role."

his comment makes your brows knit together. "i am the lead role."

you can see the gears turning in his head as he realizes what he got himself into. you're an A-List celebrity, just like him. johnny wasn't going to be the top dog like always. it all makes sense now, reading the script and realizing why all of the emails were cc'd and never directly sent to his manager; you're the lead, he's the secondary.

all johnny could do was step toward you, now looking down at you as you sat at the vanity. his expression is blank, though there is a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks for being wrong. god, he hates being wrong.

"oh, sorry," your hands grip the sides of the chair, snapping him and yourself from the silent tension. "suppose i should introduce myself."

you hoist yourself from being sat and tower over the actor so easily it's a shock his knees don't wobble out of nervousness. you're tall, so damn tall and it flusters him even further. he doesn't even realize your hand is outstretched, he's too busy swallowing thickly over your shadow overtaking his form.

"you're..." johnny trails off, finally attempting to shake your hand. "nice to... meet you. sorry, i—" he spins on his heel and exits the trailer with a slam. you chuckle, realizing he was covering his face sheepishly, raising his sunglasses to the top of his head. interesting first impression.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

shooting the first scenes came quickly after your introduction, the weirdness of it all still bothering johnny ever so slightly. as you stood side by side he couldn't help but steal nervous glances. his side eyeing was not only incredibly obvious but reminiscent of a dog.

he always thought he was into people smaller than him, considering he himself was a big guy. but the way you'd use your height to your advantage, or the times you could look over him, he was blushing like a maniac. tragically, one of the scenes you two were meant to shoot was one where your characters were in a heated argument.

"if we let them go now, this entire mission would have been for nothing!" his character shouts, running a hand through his hair and fidgeting with the prop gun on his hip. "i'm sorry, but i can't let you get in the way."

you weren't blind, you could tell your presence made him anxious. thankfully, just as his specialization is doing his own stunts, yours was improvisation. and boy, was now a time as ever to take advantage of this skill. letting out a faux-angered growl, you grab both of johnny's hands and slam them against the wall above his head. you lean down to get to his eye level, a snarl on your face that leaves johnny a stuttering mess. your frame was much larger than him, and with the way you bent down, he was completely caged within your grasp. you noticed the director stand up straight in amusement.

"listen here, you son of a bitch," you follow the script flawlessly, tone straight like you didn't pin your co-star to the wall. "you're gonna take an order and that's that, are we clear?"

johnny looked like he could agree to murder right about now. His eyes are hazy as he wets his lips and darts his eyes between yours. "loud and clear."

a loud "CUT!" saves johnny from further embarrassment, and you pull away from him like it was nothing. if the director was complimenting either of you, it fell of his deaf ears and johnny's far away gaze as his hand falls to his chest to check his racing heartbeat.

"you alright, lil guy?" you fold your arms and stand in front of him, a smirk toying at your lips, but you knew his fragile ego wouldn't be able to handle your full cockiness. however, you were sure the insertion of the nickname got to him like a metaphorical gunshot as he clutched the fabric of his shirt.

"peachy, doll." his grin was so strained he looked to be held at gunpoint. you had never seen an actor, of all people, to struggle this hard.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #marley writes ☆

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l1vchuu · 8 months

Text

resentment. part five

part one. part two. part three. part four.

!! warnings: strong language and themes, you know the rest :)

Simon was lying down on his bed, staring at the wall. His brown eyes scanned the ceiling, searching for something to take off his mind. Something to drive him far, far away from all this mess. The mess he had created.

It was unusual, unusual for him to be the reason for someone else's suffering.

He stopped meeting with Amelia.

'Nonsense. You were the one who stuck to me, I never wanted any of this. It is not okay.' were his last words to her.

She nodded and walked away, it's not like love existed in the military anyway.

Look, it wasn't like his teammates drifted away from him or something, they continued to treat him the same- but the atmosphere was slightly different when he was around. It was heavier like the oxygen slowly escaped through the window when he appeared. It was an uneasy feeling, and Price didn't like any bit of it. He talked to him about the situation when you first left, but with your absence, there was nothing to look for in terms of progress.

You were a soldier for years, and have never taken a break since. You have a few honor medals here and there. You for sure were respected on base- that was the reason why you were in the 141. Every recruit adored you.

Captain Price didn't know if Simon had sent any letters before that, and he didn't have the right to see if he had in the first place. It was absolutely Simon's responsibility to fix this, but how will he approach it? It's not like he is not a full-grown adult, he can fix it all by himself. He will send a letter, of course. But he never wrote any letters, what will he do?

Simon was too afraid to ask for any help, he was always like that. Afraid that people will know that he is uncertain, that he doesn't know what to do.

He tried to sit down to write something multiple times, but he never got to anything. There were pieces of paper scattered all around his room all scrunched up, all of the attempts to contact you. It was hard for him to express his emotions, so there was absolutely no hope left.

He closed his eyes, trying to give peace to his mind in order to figure something out. What could he write in this situation?

Hello, how were you?

Hey...

Look, I know...

Good day, isn't it?

Everything seemed so stupid to him. Every word he tried to come up with sounded worse and worse. It felt like he was going to write a business email by reflex. It was like every syllable scraped his tongue like sand. The ideas in his mind were flowing at a rapid pace, like how Formula 1 cars chase each other for victory. Every word felt like a plead. Please come back, please, I need you.

His eyebrows furrowed, physically showing his irritation.

'What do I do?' Is all his mind repeated over and over again

He finally opened his eyes, his pupils adjusting to the darkness in the room. It was the end of fall, the start of winter, and the breeze flowing through the windows got colder and colder as time passed. The outline of the trees colored the walls, letting the light create all types of shapes. His eyes trailed to the window, which was slightly agape. He looked at it for a while before sitting up in his bed. The hesitance was growing in his mind, but he chose to ignore it all as he walked to the window, opening a pack of his old cigarettes- a habit that he tried to quit. There was no one to hide his packs anymore.

He grabbed one cigarette and lit it up, leaning his arms on the windowsill. The guilt in him was growing bigger with every puff he did, but he couldn't focus on that.

'She will get so mad if she sees me.'

But, she won't.

The smoke traveled with the wind, glazing through the wood as the smell faded away. He looked up at the sky. It was past midnight, so the full moon glowing down at him. All big and round, shining at him, making his eyes squint slightly.

He wondered if you were looking at it at the same time- and you were. God forbid, you were looking at the moon every night, hoping for change, hoping that the following day will bring you peace.

In the following moment, the pen was in his hand.

"The moon is pretty bright tonight, isn't it?

You said that when you were feeling unwell you would look up at the moon, and the thought of other people looking in the same direction as you made you feel less lonely. I see you in the moon every night.

Remember that one time we were on night duty? When it was another full moon, and you were looking at it. I could see every star reflecting off of your eyes, like a whole universe, at that moment. The wind blew your hair in front of your face, the pleasant smell of it hitting me in the face with every breath I took. You do smell really good.

This moment alone made me realize that maybe there was a calmness in this whole chaos. The first time where the silence didn't make me suffer. You brought peace into my life, and I took it away from yours.

Letters won't hold up all the things I need to tell you, and no punishment in hell would be enough for the things I've done. You have every right to not forgive me, because I will never forgive myself.

S."

Simon wasn't an award-winning writer, but that was all that he could manage to write. He couldn't bring himself to write more, it would take him days just to finish it. His mind was full enough, and the fact that he had mastered the courage was impressive.

You sat in your kitchen again, a cup of tea on your side as you held the paper in your hands, letting it scrape your fingers. A slight smile on your face as your eyes twinkled in the morning sun.

"Hello from the other side!

How are you feeling? We hope that home welcomed you nicely, (I would kill for a swig of scotch right now- J.)

Base is just as boring as it always was, even more boring without you around. We found these sketches at safe house 132, they are probably yours, they are pretty nice ones. We decided to draw you something as well. Don't you dare sell it to an art gallery, we know it's so beautiful, but it is for you! Unfortunately, that is all are allowed to send in, you know how it is :(

We bet it is freezing in your area, England can be cruel like that in the winter.

Anyhow, we wish you a peaceful break. And don't forget to bring gifts on your way back! Hope to hear from you soon!

All is well,

J, K, A :)"

You saw the small pieces of paper in the envelope- ones you drew on when a snowstorm hit on the way back from a mission, causing you to crash in one of the safe houses. There were drawings of all kinds of sea creatures- whales, sharks, and types of small fishes. Over them you wrote small passages of poetry- it really wasn't anything serious, just small words with big meanings.

The letter also included one piece of paper full of small doodles from your teammates. There were animals, faces, and flowers. It was amusing really- imagine three grown men sitting together and putting this up for you. This small gesture alone made you smile, the first genuine smile in a long time. You left the paper on the table as you took a sip from your tea, the warmth healing your throat. It has been a long week- it started snowing in your area, which you thought you would've liked, but you really didn't.

The thoughts in your head were just as confusing. What the hell was happening? You were a grown soldier, you had discipline, you had a strong heart... what was wrong with you??

It was like everything started melting slowly. You didn't have enough energy to go to the supermarket to do groceries, you barely kept yourself awake, and you couldn't even run a mile. You felt your fingers tighten around the mug, did you really want to open that last envelope? Your heart started beating rapidly, making your head slightly dizzy. You felt your limbs fall asleep, and suddenly your head weighed what seemed to be 100 pounds heavier. Soon enough, you were fast asleep on the table. You had fainted again.

Fainting was a coping mechanism your body was used to before when you were a teenager. Not only because of your eating disorder but also because of the stress you put yourself through. You were troubled at a young age. You forced yourself to suck up all the pain like a sponge. That was the reason you were like that at the moment.

You knew that holding in your emotions wasn't the resolution to your problems, but it was easier. That was why you became severely attached to the first person you shared your problems with. The first person who gave you a taste of what comfort felt like. You were reminded that, indeed, people had their own lives. But you were so... scared. What if you weirded him out? What if he had lost interest in putting up with you? What if he lost interest in you?

You cried so much, you wanted to feel his touch- his fingers up and down your back, his sweet voice in your ear, his dumb jokes, all in order to make you feel better, all while he was suffering from himself.

You missed this attention. Feeling like you mattered in someone's life? Feeling like you were finally valuable? And not just a dirty rag full of pain and emotions??

Were you going to feel like that again? After causing all this fuss... all because you felt bad. You wanted to bang your head against a wall, why did you do that? You should've sucked it up, to forget about everything. But now you were in your old apartment, passed out on the table, the cup of tea- now cold, just sitting over the papers.

A wave of shock went through your body as a thought struck your head.

'What will happen if you return? What if I acted like nothing had happened?'

'What kind of fucking idea is that?!'

Years ago, when you first decided to see a therapist, there was something she had told you about. You couldn't remember the correct name- but it was something along the lines of 'fake it till you make it' sort of thing. It was entirely possible for you to return... to forget about it... maybe change your whole personality- no, cut that- you could try to talk with Simon, you know? Instead of running away from your problems, like the little girl you were.

Running won't save you, not when you are running from yourself. Make yourself known, talk to people, let your anger out, let yourself feel. Instead of cutting yourself in order to feel something external, share a hug from a friend. Pretend like you were bigger than your own problems... because you were.

John Price went into his office, closing the door behind him. He sat in his chair, sighing. It was a long day for him and the coldness just made it a hell lot harder. There was a long pause until his radio went off, which he immediately rushed to turn on. It was a thing that rarely happened, so he became a little cautious.

"..."

"Captain... it's 2104 (your code), do you copy?"

He sighed in relief. It was just you.

"Yes, Sergeant. What is the matter?"

"I would like to request a time for return. Approximately in a few days."

He stared at the radio in slight confusion.

"Affirmative... is there a particular reason?"

"No reason, sir."

You and your reasons...

"Return as soon as you can, I'll inform the team."

You froze for a couple seconds.

'I'm really doing this, aren't I?' you thought to yourself.

"Sergeant? Do you copy?"

You blinked, immediately replying.

"Yes, sir."

There was a slight pause.

"Have a safe travel, Sergeant."

"Thank you, Captain."

There was a bleep, symbolizing the end of the conversation.

It took time to settle in... three, two, one

...

"WHAT DID I JUST DO?!" you whisper- yelled, your hand on your forehead. You stood up, pacing around in your room.

"No, no, no. This is not happening right now."

"What do I do? What do I say?... I should leave the military."

Definitely not doing that.

"Now people are going to think I'm crazy!"

Not far from the truth.

"Why is this happening to me?!"

Girl, you did this to yourself.

"Do I just get in and be like, 'Hi, guys! I'm sorry for leaving without telling you all, probably making you think I passed away! I've missed you!', and pretend like nothing happened?"

Most precisely, yes.

You packed your stuff, leaving the envelope on the bed. You can't just read it now.

The next day was your flight to the base...

What did you get yourself into?

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.☆.｡.:

I am SORRY for making y'all wait for this long. I accidentally wrote this part way longer than it was supposed to be, so the other half would be in the next part (which is going to be the final one), and then my mind went blank. The ideas just went outside my head!! Anyway, I really hope you forgive me! I love you all, sending a lot of hugs and kisses <3

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty x reader #cod #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #call of duty fanfic #ghost fanfiction #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley fanfic #cod mw2 fic #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #cod angst

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cherrycola27 · 1 year

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Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Enemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Series Master List Previous Part Next Part

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Chapter 1: The Election

The news of Bradley's heroism spread like wildfire across the media outlets, causing him and Jake to sky rocket in the polls.

Two weeks later, it was Election Day. You were up bright and early, putting the finishing touches on his victory speech. You didn't prepare one if he lost, that wasn't going to happen.

You'd been keeping track, and with all the early votes counted, Bradley had a slight lead. You watched results come in all morning.

At 9:30, you, Bradley, Jake, and the rest of the campaign staff went to the polls to vote. You were buzzing as you clicked the box next to his name.

You'd been busy all morning fielding phone calls, sending emails, and answering questions. The only thing keeping you going was iced coffee and sheer adrenaline.

It was approaching 1pm, and Bradley noticed he hadn't seen you eat anything all day. He came over to your desk with a sandwich and a bottle of water.

"Can't have my main girl passing out on me." He said as he placed them on your desk.

You rolled your eyes but thanked him before shoveling down your food.

When the polls closed at six on the East Coast, Bradley and Jake's lead had increased. The three of you sat with baited breath as one by one, the news outlets from across the nation announce the official closing of the polls. Once the West Coast polls had closed, you still had another three hours to wait until Hawaii and Alaska closed, but you knew the six total electoral votes they held wouldn't matter. Especially when California declared their winner.

Bradley and Jake were sitting comfortably at 238, either projected or confirmed electoral votes. Even if, by some chance, they didn't win California, their opponents wouldn't have enough to overtake them to win.

It's exactly 2:13 in the morning D.C. time when the official announcement is made.

The office was quiet. You'd sent everyone home for the night. You, Bradley, and Jake had stayed huddled in your office. Jake had just stepped to the bathroom when the news came through.

Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw was the president-elect and will be the 47th president of the United States. He had done it. You had done it.

You and Bradley jumped up and down, screaming your heads off like a bunch of kids. You went to hug him, but in a moment, that caught you off guard. He grabbed your face and kissed you.

You both froze as he pulled away. "I—uh— sorry—" He stuttered.

"It's fine. We just got caught up in the excitement. No harm, no foul." You brushed it off. "We can pretend it didn't happen. No worries." You smiled at him.

You turned away to watch the announcement again and to answer your phone. Your mom was calling you to congratulate you. You missed the flash of hurt that crossed his face.

"I heard the yelling from down the hall! Did we do it? Did we win?" Jake bursts into the room out of breath from running.

"Yeah, man, we did." Bradley tells him in a sullen voice.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" Jake asks, looking between you on your phone and Bradley.

"No, I'm just—" Bradley shakes his head. He doesn't know what to say.

"Rooster, you're going to be the fucking president! Smile! Scream! Cheer! Call Maverick and the gang while I get the bubbly!" Jake shakes him before heading to the kitchen. "We won the fucking White House!" Jake cheers as he heads down the hall.

.......................

After the election, you stepped into your roll of Cheif of Staff seamlessly. You made sure everything was ready for inauguration day, which was finally here.

An unexpected perk of your new position was the clothes that came with it. With you being in the public eye, fashion brands were reaching out to send you clothes all the time. It came in handy for days like today.

For Bradley's inauguration, you were wearing an Alexander McQueen coat dress in a lavender shade. It had an asymmetrical skirt and pearl button details. You'd paired it with a nude pair of Jimmy Choo pumps, pearl earrings, and a set of simple layered silver necklaces. You'd taken care to make sure Jake and Bradley coordinated with you. Purple had been a theme during their campaign, and you planned to continue that during their term.

You were waiting with Bradley, Jake, and a few other officials when a member of the inaugural planning team came up to the three of you.

"Excuse me, Ms. Wiseman, Mr. Bradshaw, Mr. Seresin. We seem to have a problem." He spoke.

"What? Is there a security threat?" You asked, ready to take action if needed.

"No, ma'am, a logistical issue. We have no one to hold the Bible." He clarified.

"What?" Bradley furrowed his brows. You sighed. How could you have forgotten that.

He looks at you for clarification as you explain, "Traditionally, the First Lady holds the Bible or sacred text that the new president gets sworn in upon. But you don't have a First Lady. So I guess we could get—"

"You're going to hold it for me." Bradley states, cutting you off before you can say anything else.

"Excuse me?" You look at him baffled.

"I said you're going to hold it for me." He crosses his arms over his chest in a matter of fact way.

"Why? Because I'm the highest ranking member of your team or because I'm a woman who needs to fill a specific gender role?" You shoot back at him.

"Because I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. You made this possible." He tells you. Your gaze softens, and you relax your shoulders.

"Fine." You sigh. You don't have the time to argue with him.

..............

You can't hear the crowd over the rush of blood in your ears. You're standing on the steps of the Capital Building, Bible in hand, just as Bradley is about to be sworn in. He places his hand on the cover, and you give him a smile as he repeats the oath of office.

Cameras click and flash, and it takes everything in your power not to jump up and down as soon as the Cheif Justice shakes his hand and says "Congratulations Mr. President."

It was real. It had happened. You had done it. You let out a sigh that you had been holding in for over a year as you put on a picture-perfect smile for the camera before getting ready for the inaugural parade.

..................

After the parade, your things have been moved into your room in the White House. You'd been given the Queen's Room. You rolled your eyes when you heard that was where you would be living, but you were thankful to have your own tucked away area to yourself.

You were finishing getting ready for the inaugural ball. You'd traded out your lavender suit for a deep burgundy, off the shoulder ballgown. It had a tasteful slit, and most importantly, pockets for you to keep your phone and other necessities in with out having to worry about a purse.

Your hair was swept up in a low bun. You'd paired the outfit with delicate diamond earrings and a diamond tennis bracelet. You worn classy makeup, but a red lip, the same shade of your dress, adorned your face.

You had just fixed your earpiece to make sure it was out of sight when you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You called out as you fiddled with an earring in the mirror.

"Hey, I—wow." Bradley stepped in. He paused to take in your appearance. Sure he'd seen you dressed up before, but nothing like this.

"You look beautiful." He told you with a twinkle in his eye.

"Thank you." You smiled at him. He had come in here for a reason, but now he couldn't remember what it was. Every thought in his brain went away the the moment your red lips quirked up into a smile.

"Is there something I can help you with, Mr. President?" You goaded him.

"Oh—urm—my tie." He gestured to it. "You always tie my tie." He looked at you sheepishly.

You let out a breathy laugh before striding across the room to help him.

Your perfectly manicured fingernails made quick work of his tie. "It's black this time." He remarked.

"Thought a black bow tie would go nicely with your tuxedo." You tell him. "And you're wearing red. What happened to the purple?" He joked with you.

"I'm wearing burgundy, which is a purple based red." You shoot back, cutting your eyes to look up at him. "Plus, you're official now. We can change it up some. Alright, all done. You look good, Mr. President." You pat his chest and step back.

He catches your wrist before you can walk away. "Wait! I have something for you. A thank you gift." He says.

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a long velvet box. He opens in. Inside is a beautiful, oval diamond pendant on a thin silver chain.

"Bradley!" You breathe out. "It's beautiful, but it's too much. I can't accept it." You tell him.

"You can, and you will." He says sternly. "You got me the Oval Office. Thought I'd get you something oval, too." He grins.

"Help me put it on?" You ask him. He nods his head as you move to stand in front of the mirror.

He carefully takes it out of the box and comes to stand behind you. He pauses for a moment and swallows thickly before brushing a few stray hairs from your neck. He doesn't miss the small hitch in your breath.

He brings the chain around you. You hold it in place as he hooks the clasp. His fingers linger for just a moment. You smile at him in the mirror. Your perfume fills his noses. His senses are overwhelmed. He thinks about how easy it would be right now to lean down and place a kiss to the spot where your neck meets your shoulders.

Another knock at the door and a voice in your earpiece causes both of you to jump.

You clear your throat as both of you move to exit.

The party is in full swing when you step onto the stage. The room gues quiet as you walk up to the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen," you being. "It is my pleasure to introduce to you, President Bradley Bradshaw and Vice President Jacob Seresin!" The crowd applaudes as then men stride out.

They both give speeches and mingle for a bit.

You're happily sipping on champagne when the coordinator for the evening comes up to you. "Ms. Wiseman, it's time for the president's first dance." She informs you.

"No, you must be mistaken. We decided not to do a first dance, seeing as there is no First Lady." You tell her.

"Ma'am, the president himself specifically requested this at the beginning of the evening." She insists.

You groan and set your champagne down. "Where is he?" You ask her. She quickly tells you his location, and you brush past her to find him.

"Y/N! There you are!" Bradley smiles at you. "When were you planning on telling me you changed the schedule? Who are you even going to dance with?" You scold him.

"You." He says. "What? No! I already held the Bible for you. I have filled my stereotypical gender role for the day! I have emails to send and calls to return!" You yell at him.

Before you can do anything else, he snatches your phone out of your hand and tucks it into his suit pocket.

A low warning sound, similar to a growl, leaves your throat as you stare daggers at him.

"Relax. One dance and you can have it back." He tells you. You flare your nostrils and take a deep breath.

"Fine." You grumble out. He takes your arm and loops it around his as he escorts you out to the crowd.

He sweeps you around the room as "I've Had the Time of My Life" is played by the string quartet.

As soon as the music is over, something more lively is played, and everyone joins you on the dance floor. True to his word, he gives you back your phone. As the night winds down, the secret service assures you that they have everything under control and they will come find you if something happens.

You thank them and sneak off from the party. Once you're back in the safety of your room, you press your back against the door and sigh.

One day down, one thousand four-hundred sixty to go.

So I just wanted to say thank you for the love the prologue got! I hope yall enjoyed chapter 1!

Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @thedroneranger @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @princess76179 @bradshawseresinbabe @sunlightmurdock @lt-bradshaw @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @mj-l4 @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @chicomonks @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis

As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden!

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw smut #lt. bradley bradshaw #top gun rooster #top gun smut #tgm fanfiction #tgm smut #tgm fic #tgm #top gun 2 #red white and rooster

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

I Knew Your Were Trouble When You Walked In 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, medical procedures including dialysis and chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Pete Brenner, short!reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The clanging is enough to drive you crazy. You snap shut your laptop and let out a huff. A day where you can just stay home and get your work done and the landlord is doing maintenance. It has to be that day.

You check the time and rub your eyes. You look down at your pajama pants mournfully. You’re going to have to wear real clothes. You change into a pair of cords and a gray button up. You pack up your bag and shrug on a jacket as you step into your shoes.

You jingle out with your keys, locking the door behind you before quickly fleeing the echoing metalling thrums. You take the stairs down and tuck your chin down against the crisp autumn air. A tea will help with that, maybe something with a kick of caffeine to wake you up.

The cafe is only a block away. You order some ginger tea and take it to a table in the corner. You set up and hunker down to get through the last of your emails. You cup your chin as you lean your elbow on the table, entranced by the screen.

The rush of the cafe is almost soothing. The white noise helps you get through the overstuffed email sent by your supervisor. Check, check, got that done. You sip your tea as it cools and sit up to type your reply.

“You can have coffee?” The voice interrupts your frantic typing. You look up with brows furrowed. How on earth? “Genuinely curious,” Pete sits across from you, setting his paper cup down on the other end of the table, “with dialysis and everything.”

You blink at him and refocus on your laptop. You don’t want to know how he found you. Whether it’s cruel fate or something more sinister, you have more important things going on.

“You pack a real blow, you know that? I had a bruise and everything,” he complains, “not very nice and I’ll say I’ve been really nice to you.”

You continue to ignore him as you resume your response to Caroline. In hindsight, you would rather sit through the clanking of wrenches and pipes. You swallow your agitation, tuning out the silhouette just on the other side of your screen.

Suddenly, your laptop crushes your hands and your eyes pop up. Pete’s hand lingers on the cover as you snatch your fingers out from under it. You tilt your head in frustration.

“You look like a sweet girl,” he says, “but you’re not, are you?”

“Excuse me?” You hiss.

“Ah, come on, loosen up," he winks.

You shake your head and contemplate your options. You could pack up and go but you risk leading him back to your building. Telling him to go away isn't going to do too much and ignoring him only seems to encourage him.

"You like sweets? They got a great chocolate croissant."

"I'm not hungry," you insist and go back to typing. "I'm busy."

"Lonely too, by the looks of it," he leans forward, "let me buy you something, sweetheart."

Your eyes flick up and you give him a glare. You don't understand this man and he surely doesn't understand you. You're less than interested in any guy but especially not him. Your life has order and you value that. What little you can control, you hold close.

"You don't just come down to the cafe looking like you do and not want attention," he pushes on your laptop again and you stop it from closing. "I mean… how many dudes are gonna hit on a sick girl anyway? I accept you, babe, kidneys and all–"

"That's it," you snap, "get away from me. Now."

"Hey, it's a compliment–"

"Leave. Me. Alone."

"It's fine, we can move past this, I like a little fire–"

You flutter your lashes at him as your chest burns. You want to scream and cry at the same time. You look around, reminding yourself of your audience and take a deep breath.

"I'm asking you nicely…" your voice cracks, betraying you, "to go."

"I didn't do anything wrong–"

"There a problem here?" A deep growl has you shrinking further as Pete turns in his chair to look defiantly up at the man in the black apron.

"No problem. None of your business, bus boy."

The man with the black apron crosses his arms and scoffs, "big problem. I own this place so if you don't leave in the next fifteen seconds, I'll have you trespassed."

"Whatever, bro, me and the lady are having a chat–"

"He bothering you?" The man in the apron asks. You nod, breathless. "On your feet before I throw you on your ass," he growls at Pete.

"Like to see you try," Pete stands and puffs out his chest, "you're getting a one-star, bud." He crushes his cup into the man's apron, spilling the coffee down it, "coffee tastes like dirt anyway."

"Have a good day," the owner sneers, staring until Pete finally retreats, not without sending you a lecherous leer.

You watch after him and swallow, "I'm sorry–"

"You okay?" The man holds the dripping cup, foam on his name tag that reads 'Curtis'.

"Yeah, thanks," you murmur, "I didn't mean to make a scene."

"No worries, you need anything, just ask for Curt," he gives a curt bow and backs away, leaving your to wallow in a stormy rush of nerves.

#pete brenner #dark pete brenner #dark!pete brenner #pete brenner x reader #drabble #series #pain hustlers #i knew you were trouble when you walked in

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once-upon-an-imagine · 3 months

Note

Also, I do have an idea for a post-azkaban Sirius.

He gets released and stays at Remus', they don't know how to tell the reader (who is always been a good friend, but they secretly have feelings for each other) so Remus casually brings Sirius up to see the reader's reaction.

She starts rambling about her feelings for Sirius, and in the end, Sirius comes out and is like "you love me? Too?"

I just can see Sirius coming out of his hiding spot with his puppy eyes 🥺😍😍

this is so cute! (I'm not sure if you sent a previous email since you started this one with 'also' but I didn't get it so, if you did, please send it again, love 😊 Warnings: none, I think Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter 😊 gif isn’t mine 😊

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You Love Me Too?

"So, I take it you're not seeing him again?" Remus asked, making you almost choke on your tea.

"Why would I see him again? Did you not listen to the story? He's a stupid, selfish, prick!"

"You always say they're stupid selfish pricks" Remus chuckled.

"Because they are" you insisted. "Maybe it's me? Maybe I have a magnet for these idiots" you sighed.

"It's not you" Remus assured you. "I know what it is, but you're not gonna like it" he said, taking a sip of his tea.

"I know what you're going to say" you sighed.

"Am I wrong?" he smirked as you glared at him. "You keep comparing everyone to Sirius" he shrugged.

"I do not!" you complained, completely oblivious to someone hearing your entire conversation. "I just... miss him" you admitted. "It's not my fault that he's perfect!"

"First of all, he's not perfect" Remus rolled his eyes. "Secondly, you haven't seen him in a long time-"

"That doesn't matter. And he is perfect. At least to me. And it doesn't matter how long it's been, I still-" you stopped as Remus placed your hand in his.

"You can say it" he encouraged you, but he saw a few tears in your eyes.

"I don't think I've said it out loud in a really long time" you chuckled wearily.

"What's the worst that can happen?" he smiled. You took a deep breath and then finally said it.

"Fine. I still love him. I'm still in love with Sirius. I love Sirius Black, are you happy?"

"Well" Remus said, nodding his head to the side, making you turn around and find Sirius standing there.

You had to be dreaming. Sirius couldn't be there. Sirius was standing there in front of you. After all these years. He looked so different but at the same time, he didn't. His hair was longer. He had tattoos all over his arms and body. He had a beard. But his eyes. They looked haunted but they were still his. You could still see the old Sirius in there.

"S-Sirius-?"

"You love me too?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

"I uh-" you felt your voice caught in your throat as it dawned on you. He had heard your entire conversation with Remus. "W-wait, did you do all this so Sirius would know that I love him?!" you asked, turning to glare at Remus.

"He wouldn't believe me when I told him, so, I thought he needed to hear it from you" he smiled.

"W-uh-" you stuttered, still processing all of this information as Sirius walked into the room. "How long-? Uh- w-wait, did you just say too? You love me too?"

"I'm gonna give you two some time to talk" Remus said, getting up and leaving.

"Hi" Sirius said, smiling a little. "I'm sorry about this whole thing, I didn't think Moony would actually do it" he chuckled. "Um... I'm sure you have a lot questions" he said.

"A few" you said, with new tears rolling down your cheeks. "H-how are you?" was the first thing you could think of. "Sorry, is that a stupid question? I don't-"

"Is not a stupid question, love" he said, walking closer to you and holding your hand, pulling you to him. "I'm okay" he nodded, placing his arms around your waist. "I've been out for a few weeks and... I wanted to see you but... I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me" he said, looking down. You gently placed your hand on his cheek to make him look at you again.

"I missed you so much" you smiled as he brushed some of your tears away.

"I missed you too, darling. So much" he smiled.

"And... just so you know, I am and always have been very much in love with you, Sirius" you said, making him chuckle a little.

"Well, just so you know... I love you too. And I've always been in love with you" he assured you.

"Good to know" you said as he started getting closer.

"Yeah, I'm glad I'm not on your list of stupid selfish pricks" he said, making you glare at him. But at the same time you were extremely happy to have Sirius back.

"You can still be" you threatened.

"I wouldn't dream of it, love" he said, pulling you to him and kissing you.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* A/N: hope you loves liked it!

#marauders #marauders imagine #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black drabble

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