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#but at the end of the day. he like many of us enjoys a stupid cartoon that he probably takes way too seriously for what it actually is
middlingmay · 2 days
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Soldier!Bucky AU
This idea has been floating around in my head for a while, but:
Bucky was never a pilot before the war. He wanted to join the airforce when the war started, but it stressed Mama Egan TF out so he "settled" for the Army.
He climbs the ranks quickly, still becomes a Major quite young, and is aces at quelling disputes because he can turn anything into a joke (usually with himself as the butt of it, but people aren't arguing when they're laughing together, right? May as well be at him.)
The Brass are well aware of the less than stellar relationship the Army boys have, and as well as "cultural lessons" before they ship out to Britain and the rest of Europe, Bucky finds himself informally appointed as his squad's babysitter.
Which he doesn't like. Because the higher ups have mistaken his charisma for responsibility. Which Bucky hates more than those drab army coats.
Speaking of which, he still has the sheepskin! He won it off an airman at a card game, and refuses to wear anything else. He's gotten in trouble for this many times, but his superior officer more or less gave up after he used it to get his guys out of some trouble.
With the RAF. Who, yep, he still hates. Because he admires the fuck out of the US Airforce.
So the RAF are insulting some US soldiers in a pub, but pretending they're not. But Bucky notices the worst culprit is a lieutenant. And a fight is brewing because his guys are bored, and spats have been breaking out for weeks now, and his CO genuinely might shoot them all if there's another issue.
So he swaggers up to the RAF lieutenant, introduces himself as Major Egan (which tips his boys off to the fact he's up to something, because Bucky never pulls rank unless some shit is going down).
But he's still an American, so the RAF Lieutenant isn't entirely swayed, until he turns around to face Bucky (because of course he just walked on up behind the boy and he knows he's "a big lad" as that farmer's wife called him, and he enjoys taking people by surprise). RAF Lieutenant is face-to-neck with Bucky who's grinning down at him, and his fellow Brits mutter "No worries, Sir," and that's that.
Towards the end of the war, he's in Europe. Has been there for some time. Got separated from his men and captured by the Germans and still ran through the forest starving and afraid, and almost killed a kid, and faced down a blood thirsty mob and escaped from a pile of dead bodies with brain on his cheek - but he still considers himself lucky. Because he got away and rejoined his men.
And they're looking for POWs - their own and allied men. They've heard about the stalags and the camps and the death marches, and they're doing their bit not to lose a single man. And Bucky, who knows what it's like to be afraid and alone and close to death out here, is zealous about that mission.
They're about a day away from the Danube, when two men stumble upon their unit at night, frozen, shaking, barely able to keep to their feet.
Airmen.
American Airmen.
Bucky barks out orders and opens his canteen and holds it up to the man nearest him. Hair that might have been blonde. Blue eyes - like the song. And he had no idea then and there that he'd just met Gale Cleven, who was going to talk Bucky into doing something very risky and very stupid to save a column full of allied airmen - just because he looked him in the eyes and said softly, "Please, Major. I just left them alone - help me save my men."
It was the first of many, many dumbass things he would do in the name of Gale Cleven.
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ruddyhotelau · 3 days
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Hello, by the way, your work is amazing and I try not to miss anything or updates🌟
I have a question. I knew a lot about Emily and Lute's🥰💞, but what about Michael and vox's? How did their relationship start???
JusticeStatic's storyline in the AU begins after the main series ends. Vox was guilty of a felony, but thanks to Emily's success in convincing Michael, Vox was given a second chance to prove that he could change under Michael's strict supervision (This was Emily's idea).
So the two of them were stuck with each other and Vox had to live in Michael's palace so the King can have a better watch on him. Both Vox and Michael inherently did not like each other, but in the situation of having to be together, the two of them gradually got used to the other's presence. Over time, Vox also put away his charming, fake businessman mask because he knew that mask had no effect in front of the King of Hell.
Originally, they didn't even intend to talk to each other, but because Vox had most of his power sealed and Michael's palace was quite boring, the TV demon often appeared to bother Michael, making him feel extremely annoying. However, over time, Michael also discovered many aspects of Vox that he did not think existed.
Vox might not be as stupid as Michael thought. At one point he attempted to throw some unimportant papers to Vox for him to handle, but mainly to make Vox shut up. Unexpectedly, beyond Michael's expectations, the demon completed the assigned task quite well. Even with the sharp eyes of a businessman, he also came up with solutions that Michael had never thought of. This also left a good impression of him in Michael's eyes.
On a rare occasion that they had a serious conversation, Michael had always thought Vox would enjoy watching humanity writhe in crime and chaos, love to witness people's suffer but turn out, Vox just didn't give a damn about that. Don't get him wrong, Vox sure loves chaos and pain for others but that never is his number one priority. The demon only cares about what will bring most benefit for him, for his wants. If people being happy means he would get closer to his goal then he will make sure those bitches keep their smile still on their faces by one way or another.
While Michael hates the idea of sacrificing everything for desire, Vox is infatuated with it. For him, it is the blind pursuit of desire and stubbornness because of greed that makes human life in hell even more bustling, exciting and unpredictable because every day will pass like a mysterious and exciting gamble. Compared to angels who suppress their desires and live aimless, boring lives, wouldn't it be happier to pursue their ambitions and taste the sweet fruit at the end of the road? Like Princess Emily, for example. Didn't her dream also originate from desire?
Having finished speaking, he smiled a cold, evil smile of a scummy bastard while slowly enjoying the glass of Whiskey in his hand. At that moment, the King of Hell felt that the demon in front of him was no longer the usual flat faced TV that he knew. He vaguely saw an image of a sharp businessman in his 50s, proudly showing off a pile of money stained with innocent blood - a terrible bastard. Michael was disgusted by him, but he also didn't expect that the idiot he always despised would have such "profound" moments...
And it was also extremely interesting to see the person Michael thought was sharp a few hours ago turn into a rowdy child after losing a game of chess, just few taunts from Michael made the demon angrily flipped the chessboard.
In the end, Vox is still a hundred years old man, the "silence" between them will still happen. The moment the two stood side by side without saying a word.
The moment when Vox could be quietly smoking outside the balcony while Mike soon noticed from afar. Different from the look that irritated Michael the day before, different from the look with a sly smile the other day, even more different from the look of a noisy from before... There is something more "real" about that cunning demon. And before Michael knew it, he had unconsciously walked towards Vox.
Vox quickly realized Michael's footsteps were approaching. He turned back to look at the fallen angel and his expression immediately changed. He smirked and teased Michael a few words. Vox braced himself for a punch to land on his screen, but it never came.
This time, Mike just glared at Vox before ignoring the rest of his words and silently watching the explosions and screams from the city in the distance. Vox saw that the person next to him had no reaction to the sarcastic words. He could only roll his eyes in annoyance, then leaned back against the railing to light a new cigarette.
In that moment, a rare sight occurred. The King of Hell was currently calmly looking out at the chaos from afar while the demon he had always despised quietly leaned his back against the railing while inhaling a rich cigar…
Immersed in his own thoughts, Vox didn't notice when Michael's hand reached out. Michael was always curious about the taste of those cigars - the drug that always filled the body of the man next to him. Why is he so addicted to it? Perhaps today, Michael will break the rules and let himself try something "toxic"...
Michael suddenly snatched Vox's unfinished cigarette away, making him startled and upset, shouting, "Hey!" Michael continued to ignore Vox and slowly imitated the other person, taking a gentle breath. Gray smoke poured into his mouth, making the King of Hell frown slightly. The taste was exactly as he expected, extremely bad and completely unappealing... But Michael did not throw it away, instead continued to bring the cigarette to his lips and slowly enjoy it...
His thoughtful appearance while smoking and the image of the cloudy smoke escaping from the his dry lips made Vox's choke a bit, his face suddenly slightly warmed up. Uncomfortable with his own unusual thoughts, Vox turned to the other side of the railing, feeling the blood-scented Hell wind blowing onto the screen, causing Vox to relax a bit... And that wind also brought the smell of coffee that he always loved from the smoke of the person next to him...
Vox frowned slightly, then leaned his whole body against the railing, looking down... A rare peaceful atmosphere, both were immersed in their own thoughts and did not care about the other's presence at that time. It wasn't until Michael finished smoking that he quietly walked inside, giving Vox back the quiet space.
A moment later, out of habit, Vox reached into his pocket to take another cigarette, but this time he discovered that the pack was empty. Vox stared at the empty cigarette box for a moment while his thumb gently rubbed the golden letters on the box. Then, suddenly and without thinking, Vox flicked it, sending the box flying down. Luckily Michael wasn't there to witness it, otherwise Vox would have had to hear him complain about littering again. Standing just a moment longer, Vox turned on his heel and walked back inside, silently closing the balcony door.
_____________________
Basically, their relationship will start really slow. It's a long amount of time to change from hate to love. Like it just their slice of life of understanding more about each other and find out that maybe the other wasn't that bad and eventually, slowly open themselves with the other and enjoy each others' company... This just some of what happen in their daily life when they live together. Sorry if you guys found them kinda messy and hard to understand because our explanation is kinda long and not to the point much. I guess t is is more lia an oneshot than a real ans to er the question.
But I hope you guy can at least see some reason behind why we ship them and even love them as we do?
If you can read to the end and see my silly ranting then thank you so much for reading this. I really appreciate that!!! >=333
Bonus some JusticeStatic arts for you guys who don't use X
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infizero · 11 months
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also his drawings. make me insane. im pretty sure ive made a post about this before a while ago but i just love looking at his silly little drawings it adds so much to his character. even after everything he's been through he's still got some humor and lightheartedness in him. and he's really good at drawing too!! so it's likely something he's been doing since he was a kid
#will always believe in closeted art kid michael who became a bully so he wouldnt get bullied himself <- REAL TO ME!#anyways all his drawings are fun but i still cant get over the little hearts he scribbled in the margins of that one page#theyre just so simple and....... human. i dont know ToT#this guy is literally an undead purple zombie and he's doodling little hearts in a book#it just reminds you that michael IS a Real Guy. like canon fnaf kind of sucks ass when it comes to actually attaching any people or real#human emotion to the events of the games (very much focuses more on What Happened over actual character stuff)#(which is fine but not what i rlly look for in media usually lol.... which is why i love stuff like og fnaf vhs#which is much more character-driven)#but anyways. i think his comments and drawings in the logbook work wonders in making michael feel more real#and less like just unseen protagonist who we know about vaguely#thats why i cling so hard onto little things like his habit of chewing gum. or just him liking to draw in general#usually i dont like when fandoms make One Trait of a character super prominent/their whole personality#but with michael we know SO UNFATHOMABLY LITTLE about his character/personality that these little scraps of info are rlly all we have#in terms of his character beyond The Things That Happened To/Around Him#OH also. his love of that stupid fucking vampire show is SOOOO near and dear to my heart#another thing that makes him so painfully human. yes he is serious protagonist guy who goes thru the most unimaginable shit ever#but at the end of the day. he like many of us enjoys a stupid cartoon that he probably takes way too seriously for what it actually is#his comment about it in the logbook still makes me laugh THIS MF IS PROJECTING ONTO A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN HIS LITTLE SHOW#HE JUST LIKE ME FR#ANYWAYS holy fucking shit i did NOT mean to go on this long of a rant#i just fucking love michael afton so much im sorry#serena.txt
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imaginaryf1shots · 8 days
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His Sister | Lewis Hamilton
WC: 4.6K
Lewis Hamilton X Verstappen!Reader
Max Verstappen X reader!Sister
Summery: You have always been there for your brother, giving up everything for him, so when you decide to date his rival, what will he do.
Warnings: age gap(age not specified) mention of abuse, Jos Verstappen is an a-hole, Max is also an ass, bad childhood, bad father, cursing, alusion to smut but no actual smut
AN: this had me in tears at some parts, I was going, why did he do this 😭 as if I didn't write it, lol
Hope you all enjoy
Masterlist
Part 2
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Growing up, Verstappen wasn’t easy. Growing up with Jos Verstappen as your guardian and the one that has custody is hard. Being the oldest, Verstappen is damn near impossible. Could you have chosen to live with your mother? Yes, but that would’ve left Max alone with Jos, something you weren’t about to do. Admittedly you were young yourself, but even at a young age you knew that if Max was left with Jos alone it wouldn’t turn out good for your brother, you’ve always been motherly and have so much love in you that you just shared it with those around you and your siblings got the most of it. It made perfect sense to you as a young girl to leave your life with your mother and sister and go with your brother and father.
At one point you were the one Karting, you loved cars and karting since you were young, with both parents into motorsport it was hard not to, and even Jos couldn’t deny how good you were, but alas you’re a female and there’s no way you’d make it all the way to F1, something that Jos loves to remind you of. That’s the reason he stopped you from going once Max started winning in karting, and he wanted to focus on his child, who would achieve all his personal dreams and make it into F1. Maybe it’s your love for the sport that made it easier but you enjoyed every time you went to a track and watched the karts race, you dreaded after the races though, to Jos anything but first is a failure. On days like that, you’d follow your father and stand in his way, he’d shout at you and push you around, and you’d take it all in all in the hope that by the time he reached Max he wouldn’t be angry, or at least you’d take the blunt end of his anger. That didn’t always happen and on those days you’d just stay with your brother holding his hand, walking with him home in the cold, in the rain and in the heat of the sun, never letting him go through a punishment alone and never letting him go through your punishments.
It was all in the hope that Max would reach F1 one day, and he did, he’s in Formula 1 now, he’s been there since he was 17, he skipped so many steps and jumped into Formula 1, he went from Toro Rosso to RedBull in a record time and he was racing with legends and world champions before you had time to comprehend it. All whilst you watched him from the garage, as a family member and a part of his team, never missing a race. Driving him around when he didn’t have his driver’s licence, hugging him after each win and DNF, picking up the pieces after a scolding from Jos and tearing up when he got his first win. Always smiling and happy for him no matter what.
You’d think now that you’re all older, the talk from your father wouldn’t affect you, that you’d get used to his words, and they won’t affect you. But he’s your dad. It never gets easy.
So here you are standing at the back of the garage you’re both watching the screen, when the camera cuts to you, you smile a bit before it cuts off back to the race, with one pull you’re away from prying eyes of people in the garage. Only the few people at the back could see you.
“What?” You ask your dad with a frown. His grip on your bicep is like iron. You hold in a wince and look him in the eye.
”What was that?” He whisper shouted, you looked at him confused. “Don’t give me that stupid look. How many times have I told you, I don’t like that look.”
”I’m just confused, I don’t know what you mean.” You explain yourself and try to act normal, all while knowing it’s about to get worse, he’s in a mood, Max’s race hasn’t been going like he’d like, he’s currently in second with Checo in first, something bad in your dad’s books.
”Don’t play stupid, I know what you’re playing at.” Jos squeezes more, and you’re bound to have a bruise by tomorrow morning.
“I’m literally doing nothing.” You move trying to pull your arm out of his grip, and he lets go of you but leans down in your face.
”I saw that look you gave the camera, don’t ruin your brother’s image.” You close your eyes and bite your lip, and it takes you a few seconds before you neutralise your expression into blankness. “Don’t look like a slut, it could affect the sponsors.”
”But I wasn’t.” You mutter, but he just scoffs.
”Don’t. Play. Games. With. Me.” With each word through his fretted teeth, he poked/pushed you with his finger at your shoulder, having you move back every time.
”I’m not.” You insist. Thankfully, before he can reply, someone clears their throat, making you both look to the side to see Hemlut standing there. He doesn’t look amused.
”Keep your family affairs out of the garage, please.” Was all he said before he turned to look at the screen. It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes, giving your dad one last look you turn and go watch the race from a different spot in the garage as far away from him as you could get.
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Max ended up winning the race, with Lewis second and Charles third. So all was good in the end, your brother won the race, your dad was back in his happy mode, and your day was ruined. You rushed with the crowd to congratulate Max on his win. Your brother comes to you for a hug. You kiss his cheek as you always do and pat his back.
”Congratulations Maxie.”
”Thanks.” He gives you a big smile before he’s rushed to get weighed, you look at Ferrari as they congratulate Charles, the sea of red eye catching, looking around you don’t see any Mercedes dressed personal in the vicinity. Your eyes then fell to the 7 times world champion, he’s sitting on the floor looking tired, his eyes swept over the teams looking for his own. You feel bad for him. His family must not be here today, and his team didn’t bother to show up for him.
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Later that day, you found yourself pulled to a club to celebrate another Max win, you’re usually up for the celebration, but after what happened at the garage, you weren’t feeling up to it. However, you can never say no to Max when he asks you to do something all nice and loving, so that’s how you ended up here. In a random club, with a lot of Formula 1 workers from all teams and FIA, they’re all having the times of their lives as if they’re not rivals and hate each other, every other day of the week. You’ve sat down the moment you walked in and haven’t moved, drinks coming to you, but you’ve only been sipping light ones, not wanting to get drunk and deal with a headache in the morning.
An hour in, you head to the bar to order water or a soda, not in the mood to drink more. With a sigh, you lean on the bar and wait for the bartender to make his way to you, looking bored out of your life.
”You don’t look like you’re having fun.” Someone says, coming up to stand beside you, the accent familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint why before you turn and your eyes fall on a pair of brown eyes.
”Not really.” You say and shrug, turning so you’re both facing each other. “I mean you’re the first person to come up to talk to me in the last hour or something.”
”I don’t believe that, a beautiful woman like you.” Lewis gives you a small smile, and you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes.
“I know, right, and here I dressed up, only for it not to work.” You say a tone of amusement lanced into your words, liking this banter going back and forth.
”I wouldn’t say it’s not working.” Lewis says and looks you up and down, you blush under his gaze but the smile doesn’t drop from your lips, the bartender comes up to you right then and asks you for your order, you ask for a glass of water and a soda, before he turns to Lewis who doesn’t ask for a drink. “You’re not drinking?”
”I had a couple of drinks, but I don’t feel like getting drunk.” You tell him, and he hums, you lean closer as if you’re going to say a secret. “Between you and me, I didn’t want to be here anyways.”
”Me neither, why are you here?” Lewis asks, you look around the club, and your eyes fall onto your brother having the time of his life with his friends.
”Because my brother wanted me to come.” You say not looking away from Max, who was smiling and enjoying himself, it brings a smile to your face seeing him carefree. Your favourite type of Max.
”You’re Max’s sister.” At Lewis’ words, you realise he didn’t know who you were, your head snaps to look at him and give him the smallest of smiles, a defeated look hiding behind your eyes. As if you’re expecting the worst.
”Yeah, is that a problem?” You ask him already knowing what he’ll say. Your brother is his biggest rival. There’s history between them, and it’s not all rainbows and sunshine. Just because they have respect for each other doesn’t mean they love the other.
”No, you’re not Max.” This did surprise you, and it showed on your face, Lewis winked, and you shook your head. “Do you want to head out of here?”
”Sure.” With that, you and Lewis turn and head out. Everyone’s too drunk or too occupied to see your retreating figures.
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Let’s just say that you enjoyed your night, Lewis isn’t just good at racing. He did convince you to stay the night after everything was said and done, with his eyes half lidded and you both breathing hard it was the easiest yes you’ve ever said.
You woke up alone with the shower going in the background, feeling lazy. You sat up in bed and looked out the window. The view from his room was beautiful. You’re so lost in thought you don’t realise when the water stopped running or when Lewis came in the room. He stood there looking at you, your back bare for him to see, your hair messy, the sun coming from the windows making you glow. Lewis, dressed in only his boxers, moves to the bed and slots himself behind you, his bare chest meeting your back as his arms sneak around your waist, pulling you back. You lean into his chest and take a deep breath, content with the moment. Lewis’ lips find their home where your neck meets your shoulder, placing soft feather-like kisses up and down the exposed skin, you move your head to the side giving him more room to do as he wants.
”Lewis.” You moan suddenly breathless, Lewis moves his hands up your arms lightly before you wince in pain, making him stop all movements and pull away from you. You freeze and close your eyes instantly, knowing why you were in pain.
”What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Lewis asks, feeling guilt for causing you pain. You shake your head no and sigh, still not looking at him.
”No, no, it’s not you.” Lewis looks at where his hands were and he sees the bruise on your bicep, his mind goes to last night and he thinks over his actions, did he hold your bicep, maybe squeezed a bit too hard. It definitely looks like hand marks. You stand up still naked and snatch Lewis’s shirt from the night before from the floor where you threw it and slip it on. The oversized shirt falls mid thigh, and the short sleeves come down to your elbows covering your bruise.
”Who the fuck did this to you?” Lewis follows you off the bed, you turn to look at him crossing your arms protectively, suddenly feeling self conscious, you refuse to meet his eyes and clear your throat but no words came out of your mouth. “y/n, just tell me what happened?”
”It’s nothing. He didn’t mean to.” You mutter and shake your head, your hair falling into your face.
“Who? Who did it?” Lewis pleaded with you and you closed your eyes and bit your lip to stop the tears, it wasn’t a secret how rough your father is especially in the RedBull garage but no one outside a few observant people(which don’t include Max) know how rough he is with you.
”My dad, but he was just angry. He’s not like that, not anymore.” You mumble the last part, but Lewis heard it loud and clear, and just like yesterday, he surprises you. Lewis pulls you in for a hug, his tattooed arms just pulling you close, and he holds you. He just holds you.
”Bloody hell, love, I’m sorry.” Lewis says in your hair, and you raise your head to look at him, but still staying in his hold.
”You have absolutely no reason to be sorry.” You tell him and your hands move up to his face, lightly touching his cheek, your eyes taking him in. “I don’t really care.”
“It still doesn’t make it right. You shouldn’t go through something like this.” Lewis says, and you shrug.
”Life isn’t really fair.” He felt that there’s more behind those words. You didn’t just mean what happened the day before. There’s more pain in your voice, in your past, and to him, it looked like no one took the time to talk to you about them to help you through those pains. Lewis finds himself wondering why, he’s known you for less than 24 hours and all he wants to do is get to know you, uncover all your secrets, help you where you need help, support you where you need support.
”Well, if you let me, I think I can make it a little more fair.” Lewis says, deciding that this isn’t the last time he’ll spend time with you. He pulls back and goes to his bedside table where his phone rests.
”What are you talking about?” You ask him confused.
”Give me your number, I’m taking you out next time we’re both free.” Lewis says and hands you his phone. You slowly take it and look up at him with wide eyes.
”You want to go out with me? like on a date?” You wanted to make sure you understood him correctly.
”I do.”
“Even though you know I come with baggage.” You want to make sure he understands it won’t be easy.
”I don’t think it’s baggage, but even if it was, I don’t care.” Lewis gives you one of his smiles that make you weak in your knees, and you don’t think twice and type in your number. Lewis instantly calls you, and your phone rings before he ends the call. “Now you also have my number, and if you ever need something, or someone or a place to just call me.”
”Thank you.”
”I haven’t done anything yet, love.”
”Oh you’ve already done a lot.” Most people would act as if nothing happened and they saw nothing, most wouldn’t want to go out with you knowing there’s a lot in your past that needs solving, most wouldn’t go out with their rival’s sister, but most aren’t Lewis Hamilton, and you’re glad he’s not like the most.
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You and Lewis start texting, getting to know each other. You see a side to the Mercedes driver you’ve never seen before. He’s so easy to talk to. You feel like whatever you tell him is a secret he’ll take to the grave. In the couple weeks since you’ve started talking you’ve been more open with him than anyone else, not just about your past and growing up with Jos but about your feelings. He never judges and gives the best advice. He’s been supportive and understanding to a point you’ve asked yourself how he is real.
You asked him to keep your budding friendship (turing relationship) a secret and he agreed 100% with you, it’ll cause a lot of trouble when and if it comes out, and you’re not ready for that. And for the first time in forever you don’t spend your free time between races where Max is, you fly to wherever Lewis is, and so for a month you both find that time to get to know the other in a way that you’ve never done before, and you find yourself being Lewis’s girlfriend and it makes you the happiest thinking about it. He’s made you happier, and those closest to you have noticed you’re more smiley and happy those days.
Sneaking around like children, not two adults was part of the fun, but it also made it harder for you.
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”What are you smiling at?” Kelly asks, leaning closer to you. You close your phone in an instant to the amusement of your brother’s girlfriend. Max was in a meeting or doing something for media, so you and Kelly were having lunch in the paddock.
“Nothing.” You say, and your face flushes red, making her laugh.
”Come on, I can tell you’re texting someone.” Kelly laughs and nudges you. You roll your eyes and take a sip from your drink. “Who is he?”
”Nonone.”
”So there’s someone.” Kelly raises her eyebrows, and you sigh and nod your head. Yes, Kelly squeals and looks like she’s ready for a gossip session.
“Kelly, you’re not getting more out of me.” You tell the female, and she pouts.
”Why? Even Max is wondering who you’re texting all the time.” Kelly is confused, and rightfully so, you’re very open with her and Max. Not the type to keep something like this a secret. Or so they thought, but how can they be 100% sure when you haven’t been with anyone for years or even shown interest in anyone.
”That’s why I can’t tell you.”
”What? you can trust me, I won’t tell him if you don't want to.” Kelly felt offended that you didn’t trust her to keep a secret. She’s close to you. Anyone close to Max is close to you. His friends are your friends.
”I wouldn't do that to you, if he found out you knew and didn’t tell him he’ll get mad.” You explain to her, wanting her to understand where you’re coming from.
”No he wouldn't.” Kelly replies, and you give her a look making her sigh, Max is protective, and no one is good enough for you in his eyes. “Okay maybe he will be, but who could you be dating for you to be so sure he’ll get mad, anyways.”
“I love you, Kells, but I can’t tell you.” You both sat in silence for a bit, Kelly was thinking of any possible men you might’ve come across the last month, she started crossing some out of the list she made in her mind that you wouldn’t like, before her eyes went wide.
”It’s a driver!” She shouts, and a few eyes snapped to look at you both. You choke on your drink and cough a few times. “Sorry.”
”What the fuck Kelly, you want to tell the whole world?” You whisper shout and she looks apologetically muttering sorry.
”It’s a driver then.” She whispered and you reluctantly nod, who knew this lunch would cause you so much. “I’m not going to push you for more… yet.”
”Well thank god for that.” You mutter, but know that she’ll look and analyse every single interaction you have with any driver. Kelly went over the 19 drivers, crossing out those in a relationship. Nico, Kevin, Valtteri, Daniel, Checo, Carlos, Pierre, Alex, Esteban, Charles, Oscar, and George are all in a relationship. That narrows it down, but it’s still a bit, but a few are still single. Fernando, Lewis, Lance, Zhou, Lando, Yuki and Logan that left her with 7 drivers that are single, and you’re at the age that dating someone older would raise a few eyebrows and so would dating some of the younger drivers, but it wouldn’t be totally out of the box. Lance is the one closest to you in age, but she doesn’t think he’s your type.
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After the Austin Grand Prix, Lewis makes it to your room, and a few teams booked their rooms at the same hotel, something that you’ve come to appreciate. Your room isn’t as big as Lewis’s but it just happened that he made it to your room, the brit, and you decided to chill and have a lazy night. The TV was on, but you both weren’t focused on it, each having a glass of Almave in hand, the non alcoholic drink your new favourite and it looked like you’d never run out of it.
You just finished telling Lewis about something that happened when you were younger and still karting, telling him about all the drama that happened then and how silly it is. His arm was on the back of the sofa beides your head, your legs over his lap, and his other hand was on your thigh rubbing softly at the skin visible from your bunched up shorts.
”Why did you stop karting?” Lewis asked, your smile from laughing wasn’t all gone yet, but it did falter a bit. You suck in your lips and run your tongue over them.
”My dad said that there’s no place for women in motorsport and that Max will carry the family name in Formula 1.” You shrug, your head dropping a little. The hand besides your head moves to your face making you raise your head and look at him, Lewis felt bad for you but he tried not to be obvious about it, he knew you wouldn't want him to.
“I know for a fact then if you continued, you’d be kicking all out asses on track.” Lewis said softly, and you gave him a tight-lipped smile.
”You haven’t even seen me karting.” You tell him softly and find that your breath hits his face from how close you’ve gotten.
”Next time we meet up, we’ll do that.” Lewis said and gave your thigh a squeeze. You hum and lean closer, your lips meeting his. His lips were warm and soft, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your head. And as always, his lips made a spark ignite inside you and left you warm and fuzzy. Soft sighs left your lips as your lips moved, Lewis’s hand moved up your thigh and over your butt, tugging you so you’d move with him until you’re standing him. You pull back just a little, your breath mingling with his, his eyes looking at you and making you fall in love with him.
”Lewis.” Just the way you said his name left him breathless and needy, he pulled you down for your lips to meet again.
You’re both disturbed when Lewis’s phone rings, you move from on top of him and he reaches over to get his phone, seeing the caller ID he gives you an apologetic look and answers the phone. You sigh sadly, feeling a bit irritated to be interrupted, but Lewis is a busy man, and she understands this.
“I’m sorry, love, but I have to go.” Lewis leans over to kiss your head before hastily gathering his things. “It’s an emergency meeting, I’ll text you when I’m done and come back.”
”Okay, I’ll wait for you.” You say and lay back on the sofa taking out your phone to scroll through the TV is still going. Around half an hour later, your door is opened, making you raise your head and frown when you see Max walking in.
”How did you get in?”
”I have a card.” Max shows you the door card that had your room number on it.
”Why?” You ask him confused. He also relieved that he hadn’t come in when Lewis was still here.
”You’ve been losing yours a lot lately, so I thought to just ask for one.” Max shrugged as if it’s normal, he sat down in the chair by your legs so you could look at him, you rolled your eyes at his words, not needing to ask how the front desk gave it to him. You haven’t been losing your cards. You’ve been asking for an extra one to give to Lewis.
“What’s that?” Max asks, and you don’t bother looking up from your phone.
”What’s what?”
“That.” You sigh and sit up, looking to where your brother is pointing, your heart drops. Lewis forgot his watch, and it’s laying there on the side table that had a lamp on it, and it’s so very obvious not yours. The IWC Big Pilot’s Watch Perpetual Calendar ‘Lewis Hamilton’ Edition IW503002 is a beauty, but no way can it be yours. You curse Lewis in your mind for taking it off when he first came in. You open your mouth and close it a couple of times, trying to find words to say but coming up empty. “I’ve seen this before.”
”I don’t think so.” You say nervously, chuckling. Max frowns in thought as he tries to remember where he had seen the watch before.
”No I’ve seen it, I remember the red.” Max mumbles, and the moment he remembers you can tell, his face says it all. “L-Lewis? That’s who you’ve been seeing behind my back.”
”Max-“
”No you had your chance to tell me, but you didn’t.” Max stands up, and you follow suit. His voice is angry and irritated, a bit of betrayal in there as well. “How could you date Lewis and not tell me how could you even date him, I can’t believe you’d do something like this!”
”I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d get angry, and I didn’t want you to be angry.” You try to explain to him your reason, but he’s having none of that.
”Because I’m calm now.” Max says sarcastically.
”Max, this is why I didn’t tell you.” Your hands move in frustration, one of your legs shake in anxiety, and you whisper. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
”What is there to understand? You’re sleeping with my rival.” Max shouts, it breaks you. Max may have this image as the villain in public but he’s not like that with you, he’s always been nice and loving, you’re the best thing about his childhood, the warm hug he had, the person he relayed on, the person that could always make him smile. Seeing the look in his eyes makes tears gather in yours. “y/n, I can’t believe you. After everything you’re just, what? Selling yourself to Lewis-“
”Max.”
”-Do you have any idea-“
”Max.”
”-how this can affect my image-“
”Max, please.”
”-I thought I could count on you not to do something like this-“
”I didn’t.”
”-Dad was right.”
”Wh-what?” This just breaks you in two, completely shatters you.
”He said that you’re an attention who-“
”Okay enough.” You say and raise your hands in the air to stop him, tears leaving your eyes freely. “Please leave, I can’t hear you anymore, I can’t.”
Max fights the need to say sorry and hug you. He’s too in his emotions, and he’s too stubborn and hardheaded to say anything.
”Just leave, please.” Max turns and leaves your room. The quality time he wanted to spend with you is ruined. The moment the door closes, he feels like his relationship with you is forever changed. It cracked, and he curses himself for being so careless with his words.
Part 2
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bellflower-goat · 1 year
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>:/
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coralinnii · 3 months
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Hi! How's it going?
Can I please request Leona, Riddle, Cater and Ace reacting to the reader wearing someone else's jacket?
‧₊˚✧New Jacket, Who Dis? ‧₊˚✧
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↳ forgetting your jacket and wearing someone else’s  
feat: Leona ❋ Riddle ❋ Cater ❋ Ace genre: humor, fluff note: no pronouns used for reader, reader is implied to be smaller than Floyd, nicknames used for reader (cutie, babe, baby), established relationships, reader is implied to be from Ramshackle,
I swear I will get these requests completed even if it kills me. Damn my tendency to go into hibernation during winter! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the reading ^///^
Part 1 2.7k followers writing event
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Leona has jackets? 
I mean, you were sure Leona owns a plethora of high-end jackets and outerwear of the finest fabrics but be it a preference or perhaps too much of an effort, you rarely see the beastman wear anything other than a shirt and at best a dorm-mandated vest.
So, when you feel a chill down your spine on your way to class, the idea of asking your boyfriend for a jacket did not cross your mind. Can’t ask for what you’ve never seen.
A classmate of yours saw your pitiful form and offered you his school blazer. Something better than nothing, he thought. 
Grateful, you were quick to take up his kind offer and practically snuggled your face into it for warmth. Now in a better mood, you got through the first half of the day and quickly made your way to the greenhouse where you suspect a certain lion beastman is hiding. 
But it seems that said beastman wasn’t in high spirits as you were when with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, he raised his palm towards you signaling you to step no closer to him. 
An unfamiliar scent unpleasantly wafted through Leona’s territory, and to his annoyance, you appeared to be the source of it. 
No, not you…That wretched jacket.
Leona doesn’t have to ask. He can surmise the situation on his own, the weather was chilly, you being stupid enough to leave without something cozy, and some brave or stupid herbivore handing you something with his scent even though you were the partner of a beastman. Though irritating, logically this was not something surprising… but he doesn’t have to like it regardless. 
And he doesn’t. 
Pointing towards you, he further narrowed his gaze on the jacket that has tainted you with its irritating stench of another man. “Oi, take it off.” 
Though confused, you did as he said (lest you want him even grumpier, you thought) and placed your friend’s jacket onto Leona’s outstretched hand. 
Suddenly and without warning, the dark-haired upperclassman harshly tossed the fabric to a random direction, with such feelings of disgust and annoyance radiating off from Leona, you would think the jacket spat in his meal or something. 
But no matter how many times you tried to ask for his reasons or how many times you begged him to let you go after pulling you into his arms so you could retrieve the abandoned jacket, Leona said nothing as he kept his grip strong around you as he fell asleep once more, lulled by your unobstructed scent. 
“Ruggie can grab my jacket for you so quit harping about it…You feel bad for Ruggie for the trouble? Tch, who’s fault you think that is?”
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Riddle’s appearance is perfect to a T. From his bow tie to his socks, the Heartslabyul housewarden chooses his attire to what is required; nothing is missing and nothing in excess. 
Basically, he wouldn’t have a spare jacket nor can he part away from the required blazer of his school uniform despite how he honestly wanted to. 
You understood his hesitance completely and didn’t probe further. Unfortunately, it left you noticeably shivering, and Floyd just had to mention your shivering form akin to a jittery guppy. Learning your predicament, the tall mischief-maker had a fun idea. 
Which led to you finally leaving the classroom after Floyd finished his giggling fit seeing you looking practically devoured by his jacket. Floyd is a tall eel merman so the length of the sleeves and hem were certainly longer than an average uniform. 
“Go ahead and wear it, just give it back later.” The sophomore graciously lent his jacket to you, but you suspected that he just wanted to prolong the humiliation.
At least you were grateful he wasn’t there to laugh at you when Riddle saw you in this mortifying position. The taller student would have probably coughed up his human lungs from laughing at your boyfriend's stunned expression. 
“I…What is…” Riddle was dumbfounded. The sight of his beloved being swallowed by a jacket was not something he suspected. It is an amusing image to see, but definitely odd. 
What’s the procedure for this? This was hardly appropriate school attire, but Riddle was stumped as to what to do next since he can’t think of a rule that addresses your lover being dressed in someone else’s jacket in a comical fashion. 
Despite unable to complete his prior sentence, you knew what Riddle wanted to know. “…It’s Floyd’s. He thought it’d be funny.” 
There was a burning sensation bubbling in Riddle when he thought about the Octavinelle rascal, how close and unnecessarily clingy he probably was to you as he took glee in his nonsensical pranks. Then, an unpleasant thought sat in the redhead’s mind as he watched you roll up the sleeves of Floyd’s jacket draped over your form. That eel gave you his jacket while Riddle, your boyfriend, didn’t.
"I supposed I should have expected this, given my choice."
Riddle let out a sigh before extending a hand to you, his face flushing a familiar red hue. “It may be redundant, but perhaps I could offer my own jacket? A warmer one at least, I wouldn’t want you to needlessly catch a cold.” 
Happily, you took the sweet redhead’s offer. Walking together hand-in-hand, Riddle thought he could spare you a scolding about forgetting your jacket in the first place, so long as you rectify his mood by wearing his jacket instead. 
“As your boyfriend it should be my duty to protect and care for you, no one else’s.”
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Cater would have no problem with sharing his jacket with you, if he can take some cute pictures of course. His wardrobe has a mixture of trendy and cool clothing due to his time at the Pop Music Club. It wasn't a matter of what he could offer but rather his time to even give this offer.
It was today of all days that he couldn’t find time to himself since there were some last-minute preparations needed for the Unbirthday party. You felt too guilty and nervous to suddenly ask your boyfriend for a jacket in all this commotion, so you tried to handle the cold without one. 
However, a classmate of yours was observant enough to notice your predicament and handed his jacket for the time being. 
You’ve stuck around the Unbirthday party, waiting for the festivities to settle and relax before scanning through the crowd to find the man with a beautiful shade of orange hair. 
But your boyfriend was quicker to find you as he surprised you first, covering your eyes from behind. “Guess who, cutie~?” 
Laughing, you didn’t bother to answer as you immediately spun around to leap straight into Cater’s arms, to which Cater happily returned in kind. 
“Looks like you got yourself some new threads. Almost couldn’t find you, cutie.” Referring to your newly acquired jacket, Cater could see the Heartslabyul emblem sewed onto its sleeve. Raising a quizzical brow, Cater questioned you, “Did you get it from the Adeuce duo?” 
His guess was wrong though as you told him a classmate of yours offered you his jacket, pointing him in the distance with his friends. Well now, that’s interesting. If it were one of his or your friends, that’s fine and dandy…but a random classmate…
Cater genuinely appreciated that his little underclassmen are chivalrous enough to help their fellow peers, but he admits that it’s a little different when it involves you. You’re special to him after all and he gotta make sure only he gets to give you the best boyfie treatment. 
With a smile on his face, Cater gently coaxed you out from the jacket before walking towards the oblivious student. “Let’s give him back his jacket, then we can head over to my room. I’ve got the perfect jacket for you to try out ♪”
“My cutie looks so ‘cammable in my jacket! This is definitely going on Magicam ♪ Oh, should we get matching couple outfits~?"
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“Are you ever gonna stop sulking and tell me what’s wrong, Ace?”
“...” 
It doesn’t matter how long you two were dating, Ace would tease you so much if you ask for his jacket, it’s almost not worth it. You could already hear the redhead’s cheeky voice in your head. “Aww, is my baby feeling cold? Do you need your amazing boyfriend to warm you up?” 
Feeling a little petty and not in the mood for his teasing, you instead asked Deuce if he could spare his extra jacket for you. To your luck, he had his track team jacket on hand that he could offer to you. 
Warm and cozy, you met up with Ace who, upon seeing you, unceremoniously draped himself over you as he let out a deep sigh. “Ahh, I was so cold today. Thank Sevens you’re so warm.” 
Rolling your eyes affectionately, you wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back soothingly. Glad you didn’t ask for his jacket, then. 
But as Ace shifted around in your arms, he looked over your jacket from his angle and felt a sneaking suspicion that he had seen it before…but not on you. “Hey babe, where’d you get the jacket from?” 
“Oh, it’s Deuce’s track team jacket. I borrowed it ‘cuz I forgot mine back at Ramshackle.” 
Which led to this predicament in Ace’s room, with the pouty freshman giving you the cold shoulder. Granted, it’s rather cute to see your boyfriend react so childishly over a jacket, but you’d preferred some cuddles right about now. 
But Ace kept on with his act. It may seem like an overreaction but to Ace, knowing that you asked for Deuce instead of him first left a sour taste in his mouth and a blow to his ego. He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, ain’t he? 
You sighed, having no choice but to “right your wrong”, then. 
Crawling to where your lover was, you leaned into the crook of his neck as your arms circled his waist. “Don’t be mad, I’m so cold and I need my strong, handsome boyfriend to warm me up with hugs~ Aaacceee…” 
Still met with silence, you upped the ante and started to press small pecks against his neck where you felt were getting hot and bumpy from your touch. Hiding your satisfied smile, you continued your onslaught of praises and coos. 
Damn you and your cuteness, he thought. Breaking his cold facade, Ace groaned in frustration as he pulled you into his arms, giving into the cuddles you wanted. 
“If you need something, you’d better be thinking of me first before anyone else, especially Deuce. Have some faith in your boyfriend here.”
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bamsara · 4 months
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what are your most favorite tropes? :3c
IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED:
Near death experiences
Emotional revelations due to said near death experiences
Enemies to Friends to Lovers
Mutual Pining but they believe its unrequieted
"you're my worst enemy but you're so important to me"
Drunk chapter where at least One fist fight happens
Bridal carry after someone gets injured
Slow Burn...of course
"i got you this gift because it benefits me and im not telling you how" (the benefit is seeing the other person enjoy the gift)
Force Alliances or Temporary Truces
"I don't like killing but I'll do it for you"
"I prefer to kill my problems but I won't, for you."
Or: "This person has no idea how many people I've killed in order to protect or provide for them and I'm going to keep it that way."
Mean or Villian Character is actaully a really good Sibling/Parent/Child,ect and has someone they care about
Or better, Villian character adopts child AND is a good parent
Everyone knows the pairing likes each other except for the pairing
Temporary (or non-temp)Amnesia
"I learn your favorite things because I plan to use them against you one day" (proceeds to not do that) (proceeds to get them food or items that persons likes just because they like them)
Breaking and Entering. Literally.
Person A is in love, Person B says they're not but they're 10x times worse actaully
Slip-of-the-tongue/Accidental confessions. Doesn't have to be love confessions but just "whoops i was not supposed to say that"
Biting as a love language
One is feral and bloodthirsty but is put in the position of 'protecting an idiot' because the other is also feral and has no self-preservation. Both characters must be badass, just equally stupid
Kiss on the head/cheek while the other person is sleeping
Bloodstained kiss
Heat-of-battle confession about something
Protagonist refusing to become villian or repeat villian mistakes, not in a 'owo i cant do that its bad' and more like 'fuck you you dont get to see what you wanted to make of me'
Signifier of 'this is my friend/family/lover'. Could anything between a ring, a jacket over someone's shoudlers or scent marking, anything
"if im immortal, then you gotta be too or we both dyin"
Knight x Their Charge
Human x Non-Human
Sunshine x Grump
Character that looks sooooo cute. Oh he's a little fucked up actaully
"ahhaha he's such a freak haha. i need him carnally."
They are mortal enemies. They are also best friends.
Hostage / Rescued trope plus Hostage / Doesn't get to rescue because the hostage killed everyone already
Plot info that's missing that's vital to the story and it's revealed that One of the pairing or someone in the group knew the info the entire time
"I said mean things to you because I hate you, so why am I feeling guilty now"
There was only One Bed
Really competent and scary character is really GOOD at a harmless and charming small hobby completely uncharacteristic to their public persona
Nightmares. And then sleeping in the same bed because of nightmares
Cultural differences / Language Barrier
Character gets so surprised flustered they trip over something or break something and it topples and it starts a chain reaction like a cartoon
There are more but these are some of which I can remember off the top of my head. I've written many of these myself in several of my stories and will continue to do so until the end of time, esp my faves
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cordeliawhohung · 4 months
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You created a monster in me with underboss!Simon and now you must take responsibility.
Please feed my new addiction with relationship headcanons 😩😩😩. I love him and Shy!reader.
i've created so many monsters y'all gotta stop biting at my ankles or at least start paying rent or smth <3 also i'm still trying to work out a lot of the dynamics of the relationship between them so this is still a little bare boned but i hope you enjoy!
mafia!141 masterlist <3
warnings: mostly fluff :3 simon is a bit of a prick lol, fem!reader,
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just in case anyone missed it, this is how underboss!Simon and shy!Reader meet <3
it takes a brutally long time for the two of you to start dating. a brutally long time.
and it isn't for lack of trying on Simon's end. he manages to get your number somehow (i hear Soap is very tech savvy...) and asks you out the week after the dinner at John's house, only for you to decline.
which is fine. he can take rejection. but this is... different. you're too kind when you say no. you're not saying it because you think you're too good for him, you're saying it because of something else, and Simon can tell the difference but can't exactly tell what it is.
it drives him nuts for a long time. you were supposed to be just another number in his phone for a booty call. he's used to getting pretty much anything he wants, after all, but even then it shouldn't have bugged him as much as it did. maybe it was because he liked the way you looked at him. not with disgust. not with some lustful intention. you were... soft. kind, even.
as for you? you think it's crazy how this 6'4", ripped, and kind guy showed interest in you. you, someone too anxious for her own good, someone who said no because it was less scary than committing to something. and you hate yourself for rejecting him.
so in an effort to stay close to him, you text him pretty often. you send him pictures of things you see or run into during your day. something funny at work, a cool rock you found in someone's garden, the spider that decided to make its home in your shower. and sweetheart, you have no idea what you're doing to the poor man ):
this goes on for a long while. just simon being a stupid man, not wanting to push your boundaries after you already rejected him, and you being too anxious to fix things and ask him yourself.
eventually, by some miracle (that i might write more about later because like i said BARE BONES) the two of you get together. and it's... interesting. simon isn't really used to dating. like properly. he's used to buttering a girl up, going back to her place for a quick fuck, and then only seeing her whenever either of them are too bored and horny to function. but with you it's nothing like that at all. there's no sex on the first date, not even a damn kiss, and he finds himself craving you more than ever because of it. wanting to be around you all the time, wanting to hear about your day.
man is fucking obsessed.
he treats you like a princess. he only ever really spent his money on stupid shit but now he can spend it on you! you never ask for anything, but god forbid if you express that anything, be it clothes or otherwise, looks cute because he will buy it for you, no matter how awkward you are at receiving gifts.
also! because he's so big and somewhat brutish, no one fucks with you when you're in public together. annoying kiosk clerks trying to aggressively sell you something? one look from him and they're gone. someone messed up your order but you're too anxious to ask them to fix it? he's advocating for you.
because of him, you find yourself growing less afraid and anxious of things. he teaches you how to be brave, and you teach him how to be soft. there's nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you <3
oh also btw he's in the mafia. he might have forgotten to mention that... hope that doesn't freak you out or anything. don't worry about the blood on his shirt or the bruises on his face or the cuts on his arms or... oh god you look like you're going to cry. it's nothing, sweetheart! promise! stop trying to take him to the hospital!
also, some sorta unrelated comments: i think shy!reader is def a hostess at a restaurant. i feel like simon would hang out at the restaurant too just to be around you. he'd also slip you a tip, even though you tell him you make hourly and don't depend on tips.
"consider it my way of saying thanks for sitting us at the table with the best view."
the view is you, btw.
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AHHH i'm sorry this was such a mess? i have so many jumbled thoughts but i'm glad i was able to get some of them out and i hope they were somewhat enjoyable al;kdjf i'll be working on a short drabble/oneshot for him over the weekend, so i'm hoping that'll make up for this <3
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reiderwriter · 4 months
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Unhappy Holidays
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆
Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).
Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”
A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).
Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆
Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.
Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.
If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.
It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.
Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.
A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.
He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.
Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.
The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.
“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”
“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”
“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”
You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.
He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.
Your resentment still burned though.
Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.
You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.
The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.
After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.
You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.
In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.
The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.
Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.
“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.
“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.
“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”
“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”
He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.
The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.
Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.
Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.
Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.
It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.
You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.
“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.
Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.
A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.
As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.
Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.
You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.
By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.
Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.
The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.
Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.
“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.
So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.
With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.
“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.
“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”
“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.
But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.
“You're sure he won't be there?”
“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”
“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”
“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”
“Done.”
–X–
Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.
You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.
“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.
“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.
“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.
“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.
“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”
You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.
“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”
“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.
“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.
“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”
You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.
“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.
Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.
“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.
“I was invited.”
“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”
“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.
You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.
“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.
“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.
“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.
Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.
“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”
“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.
“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”
“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.
“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.
“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”
“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”
“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”
He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.
“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.
“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.
You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.
His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.
He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.
He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.
“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”
“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”
“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.
“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.
“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”
Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.
He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.
“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.
“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.
“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.
It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.
He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.
“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”
“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.
He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.
“Liar.”
His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.
“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”
“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”
“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.
There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.
You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.
It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.
“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.
“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.
“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”
You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.
You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.
Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.
You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.
You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.
It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.
“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.
“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.
Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.
“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.
“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.
“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”
He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.
He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.
“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”
He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.
The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.
His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.
The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.
“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.
“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”
“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”
“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”
He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.
“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”
“Fuck. Why?”
“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”
You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.
He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.
“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”
“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”
“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.
“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.
“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”
“You just know how to piss them off?”
“Morgan says it comes naturally.”
“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”
A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.
“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.
“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”
“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.
“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.
“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”
He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.
“Oh my god you're an idiot.”
“When you're around, yes.”
“And that means I'm equally stupid.”
“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”
You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.
“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.
“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”
“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”
He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
Text
Vampire Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcanons
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Warnings: Implications of Smut, Implications of Degrading, Aftercare, Feeding, Jealous Simon, Possessive Simon, Fluff, Mentions of Blood, Petnames, Self-Conscious Simon, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
Ghost is one of the oldest vampires to inhabit the planet, and as a result, has tremendous self-control when it comes to feeding.
He’ll only feed from you if you let him, and he won’t feed from anyone or anything else.
The thought of tasting another person’s blood repulses him. Makes him feel dirty.
After all, you’re the only one for him, so why would he enact such an intimate encounter with someone else ?
He’ll get extremely jealous if you let someone else feed from you, btw.
Even if it’s a dire situation and it’s someone he knows well – Soap, for instance – he’ll struggle to not let his mind wander, to contemplate whether you enjoy having Johnny attached to your throat like a leech.
Sulky vampire boyfriend hours !!!
You’ll have to reassure him that he’s still your favourite (and only !) “Big teddy boy~”.
He secretly (shamefully) loves feeding from you.
And I don’t mean in just a romantic sense; I’m talking full-on primal instinct.
Whenever he has you pinned under him and is taking you, he can smell how close you are to your end by the scent of your blood.
And he waits, calling you every whorish synonym under the sun, smoothing over your tears with promises of love that you already know until your body gives out and you wail, back arching into Simon’s chest as his fangs sharpen and plunge into the juncture of your neck.
Your blood is a fine delicacy, but in this moment, during the pinnacle of mortal euphoria, it is exquisite.
He doesn't drain you; just takes what he knows your body can take.
And despite how rough he can be with you, when there’s blood – your blood –involved, he’s nothing but gentle.
His favourite part of the evening is when he pulls you into his arms and a trickle of blood runs down your chest and he gets to run his tongue along it; a red mercy.
Simon’s big on aftercare btw.
He’s not letting you get out of bed for at least a full day afterwards; not until you’re fully healed.
The longer a vampire goes without feeding, the more of their true form appears.
It takes energy to keep his human skin intact, so if Ghost hasn’t been drinking, his features become gradually more monstrous as the days go by.
He’ll wear his mask when this starts to happen.
He loves you, trusts you with every ounce of his existence. But he doesn’t want you seeing him. The real him.
It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him that you love him “Regardless of what’s underneath your pretty boy face !” – he’s not letting you see it.
Often, your reassurances turn into quick ‘self-love’ sessions in the nearest, most convenient spot, ending with Simon gasping and whining beneath your touch.
He knows his vampire form isn’t easy to look at. A man’s heart once gave out the second he caught sight of Simon without his human face on.
And he doesn’t want that for you.
He just loves you too much.
Speaking of; he’s always hinting towards turning you into a vampire.
Like, constantly.
He brings it up at some of the most inopportune moments – like when you’re cooking dinner or trying to 
Once, to shut him up, you told him (jokingly) that he’d have to “Marry me before I let you turn me !”
And that put a dangerous little idea in Simon’s head.
Now, he’s always trying to find the perfect opportunity to propose to you – to turn you.
He’s not stupid, he knows that tone in your voice meant you weren’t being entirely serious.
But it gave him hope. A rare commodity in the world of an undead.
He has about ten engagement rings hidden in your shared home, each having been tweaked and perfected to be as timeless as possible.
You’re the most wonderful human there is, in Simon’s eyes, so you deserve the best.
So be on the lookout for that faraway look in his eye as he peers into a future he doesn’t think can come soon enough; one where your love will outlive all those that have come before and after.
A life where, for the first and last time, Simon has a constant in his life.
You.
Domestic Vampire Boyfriend !!!
He’ll cook for you whenever you ask him to, no questions asked.
Though, he won’t be handling any garlic.
Or be going near you when you’ve eaten it.
Soap constantly tries to bring up embarrassing stuff Simon’s done.
Which is why he’s always at your side whenever the 141 come over.
He can’t risk johnny jeopardising the slick, suave, sophisticated image of a loving boyfriend (and stone-cold killer) he’s cultivated for himself. Well, for you, mainly.
“Ey, did’ya know that once when Si and I were just wee vampires, that he almost set a whole town on fire because he forgot he burns up in the sun–”
“That’ll do, Johnny.”
“Aww, it’s okay, Sim-Sim,” you say. “You’re still my favourite little leechie in the whole world !”
He is going to get bullied by his associates after that, but if it’s to hear your sweet praises, he’ll gladly tolerate it.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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bahrtofane · 2 months
Text
husband Jude headcannons
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jude just really really enjoys married life
Word count - 2.3K+
Watch it - i got carried away sorry guys, proposal lore?? insanely sappy, even by my standards
—--
He's not a fan of you being known as his, rather he's your husband. Always correcting people during interviews and giving you the spotlight. Even when you shy away, not knowing where to look or what to say. He's always there, a gentle hand on your knee rubbing circles as he nods for you to continue. 
Every red carpet he wants to match, doesn’t care how big or small the event is. Gotta be a way you two look look a pair 
His fav is when you wear exactly the same thing so there’s no way to confuse anything for what it really is hehe 
Bouncing around while you get ready together, helping you get your shoes on while he tries his best to stand still while you fix his tie 
“Look okay?” he asks, head tilted 
You rub his arm, “you look great.” 
And he smiles wide, giving you pecks all over while you giggle, trying to shoo him away from you and closer to the door. your ride is waiting, but he doesn’t care. pouting for just one more kiss. please ? 
All his socials turn into your personal fan page, a big fat married in every bio, ring and all 
He has more posts about you then his actual job 
His teammates poke fun at it, “when are you gonna post us huh?”
He just rolls his eyes,”when I marry you i’ll think about it”
And that’s that
You're the first he runs to post a match, greeting you with the silly hand shake you perfected years ago. You think you could do it in your sleep at this rate. You came up with it ages ago when you kissed him after practice, playing with his fingers till he came up with the idea, and you with the actual hand shake. 
You're his biggest supporter, and him likewise. In every and anything you do, give him pompoms and he'd be your personal cheerleader at this point.
He just likes to have you at games. Waving obnoxiously while you tell him to pose. And he does, every time, sending hearts your way. He dedicates his goals your way. The kisses he would send the crowd in his youth now only go your way where you catch them like a teenager.
You see complications of it everywhere, he thinks it's endearing. He makes you watch them together on the living room tv while you grimace
“My face looks so weird there, oh my god.”
He flicks your arm, “you look great shush. Ha that was during el clasico, ah good times.” 
You roll your eyes but snuggle up against him anyway.
One of your favorite past times btw, nothing he loves better than a lazy morning in with you in his arms while he hits snooze on every alarm.
He tries to cook, with his stupid kiss the chef apron he got just for you. but he will need help, which you gladly give. You end up eating on the couch, covered in pillows watching cheesy shows. You've watched keeping up with the kardashians too many times to count and he still laughs out loud every time.
Jude is soft and sweet when he's not forced into a picture perfect smile and self 24/7. He's a silly guy, always trying to make you laugh. Teasing is his love language by the way.
But he's still sweet, leaving notes around your house for you to find when he has to leave for away games. Hearts and smiley faces littering every inch of the paper. Some frowny faces when he knows he'll miss you extra. 
He likes bringing you to family events and bragging about how cool you are, but everyone already loves you as is, he just likes to brag. Look at how cool the love of my life is everyone, I am sooo lucky you guys look look. 
Jobe has rolled his eyes far too many times, but he's happy to see his brother so happy. Plus you guys threw a fantastic wedding. A win is a win.
When you can't be there he facetimes you every second he possibly can. Blowing kisses when he has to go. 
“Judes been complaining all day I hope you know,” Aurélien pops his head into the screen. 
You snort, “ hello to you too Aurélien.”
He gives you a wave before ruffling the top of Judes hair as he pouts, fixing it just how he likes again, “they just don't get it,” he sighs dramatically.
You laugh, “sure baby, sure.”
You make sure to keep up with the match the best you can, texting him live reactions, even if you know he won't see them till later. He likes them all the same.
Your name on his phone is a simple "mine" with a bunch of heart emojis, the contact pic is one of the two of you together on vacation, smiling with your faces squished together while laying in the sand
It makes him smile every time. he thinks you’re the cutest
He's a big fan of nicknames, weather its a version of your first name, or just a good ole fashion baby. He rarely uses your actual name. He called you something so insane like pooki bear in public once and you have yet to let him live it down.
"in a restaurant was crazy," you squint at him.
He only giggles, "but it was soo funny baby come on."
Speaking of restaurants, this guy loves a good date night 
Gigdy as he comes down the hall in his pjs, grinning while showing you the new reservations, it’s your fav place ! 
Every anniversary he somehow finds a way to outdo himself, don't ask, because in truth he doesn't even know how he pulls it off, but anything for you. Anything. 
Even if it means hunting down the stuffed animal you had as a kid and couldn't find after you lost it in your couch cushions. He finds it, after months and months of searching, making Jobe help him look, it comes in the mail and he has to get creative to get you out of the house and away from the mail the day it's supposed to come.
It gets neatly wrapped and placed on your shared bed the morning of, surrounded by a collection of other gifts, your favorite flowers, and a cheesy note that you always end up crying at. 
The look on your face makes it all worth it, when you tackle him in a bone crushing hug, tumbling into the covers in a tangle of legs while you laugh in between sniffles, he loves you. Oh how he loves you 
It's been a tradition to end the night with the very place he proposed, his home, now yours. 
He doesnt think he could forget it even if he tried. It was a whirlwind of a day. Picture this: 
He's lost all his black socks, his (and your) favorite body wash just spilled all over the shower, his hair looks awful ( he got a haircut that morning), his cologne isn't where he left it, and the private chef he hired isnt replying. All while you're not even awake yet. 
He calls his mom because what else are you supposed to do when you're set to propose and everything is going wrong. 
She only chuckles softly over the phone, “calm down jude, just breathe. You'll find your things, just take a breather and come back to things with a clear head okay?”
So he does. Sitting on his bed, towel still on, frowning. He chooses to instead pat himself dry, get dressed, and give himself a pep talk in the floor length mirror at the corner of his room. 
Turns out his mom was right, things fix themself for the most part, his socks are stuck at the bottom of the dryer, his hair isn't as bad as he thought, he finds a better cologne in his collection, and a perfect body cream. It's gonna be a good day. 
He finishes the last of the day of prep, getting fancy candles, a lighter, and greeting the decorator. Yes he hired a decorator. 
It's nothing over the top, just little changes to make his home look a little softer, changing out the curtains, placing lace table cloth with details in your favorite color. The main event is his second living room that gets covered in an arch of your favorite flowers, gentle curling to just kiss the top of the new antique chandelier that will be holding the fancy candles too. He hopes you like it. He really really hopes you like it.
He's had this planned for ages, since the moment he first met you he thinks. 
When you greet him with a silly good morning text he only grows oh so fond of you, excited to see you. He told you it was a fancy dinner at his place. A change of pace from the resurates. Both of you prefer a much more intimate night in then cameras shoved into your face while a hundred people all yell a hundred things while you're trying to chew your food. 
So you get ready, dress up and make it for dinner. When you see the familiar face of the chef, Karlos, you give him a wave and get seated. Noticing the new table cloth but you don't say anything. You don't want to be wrong so early into the night. 
Jude comes in, nervous as a school boy as he takes your hand for a quick peek, running around like a maniac back and forth. He looks nice, in a signature all black suit, and smelling amazing per usual. 
Dinner is amazing, full of your favorite courses and Jude is jittery in his seat. 
“You okay?”
He nods, a little too fast, “oh yeah. I am. Don't worry.”
You raise a brow but dont push, thanking Karlos for the amazing meal as he cleans up and heads out for the night. 
Jude gets up, telling you to stay put while he'll be righttt back. Don't worry, remember! 
He comes back, unable to meet your eyes while he gives you his hand. You take it, sliding out of your seat and following him down the hall. There's flower petals on the floor now, you look at him, but he looks anywhere but at you, chewing his cheek.
He leads you to the second living room, where the furniture has been cleared out. Replaced by a walkway of flowers and candles, leading up to where an arch of your favorite flowers hugs the curtain, new ones.
Gently pulled back to reveal the floor to ceiling windows that give way to his yard. And the most gorgeous sunset you have ever seen. A chandelier hangs above you, decorated with more flowers, and the most ornate candles and bulbs you have ever seen.
Your eyes begin to water before he even gets down on one knee, his lip wobbles, holding your hand the whole time as he confesses every little moment and reason for his love.
He loves you, he adores you. You're- youre everything. Truly and fully. You're the sunlight that kisses his skin, the stars he wishes to touch, to know, he yearns for you. Years to know you in your entirety, till he knows nothing else but you. For your name to only fully know his lips, for only he will fully know you. He sees no other, he knows no other. He wants- no needs, to give himself as he is. 
You see him, see him as more than just Jude Belingham. You see what others can not, will not. You see him, you know him. You know him better than he knows himself most days. You've seen all there is to see, all that makes him who he is. You know his stupid sandwich order at the place you hate but keep going to because you know how much he loves it.
You sit in freezing weather for the full game just to make sure you don't miss a second of him. The first to congratulate him, the first to mourn with him, the first to sooth his aches and pains. You're the face he looks for in a crowd, you're the first person he calls when anything happens. 
 And you love him with such ferocity it amazes him. 
You're full crying at this point, fat tears rolling down your cheeks till you can barely see him, and he finally gets down on one knee, fishing out a small velvet box from his inner pocket, opening it with shaky hands.
And he whispers, “will you marry me?”
You fall next to him, sobbing into his shoulder while you repeat yes over and over. He cries with you, till you're both laughing from pure joy. 
Who better to spend the rest of your life with then the man who loves you so?
Telling his family is the best part. You have them over for what was supposed to be a quick lunch, turned dinner, and you break the news at dessert, showing off your ring while they all gasp. 
They pile you into the biggest hug, smiles so wide they hurt and you laugh, you're going to get married! You think they just might be more excited than you are.
Wedding planning comes and goes both so fast and so slow. Youre so excited you can't wait, and yet every step of the way seems like it takes excruciatingly long.
Your wedding planner tries her best, bless her soul, but you want it to be completely and utterly perfect. Down to the types of chairs at the venue.
Jude lets you have your way for the most part, chiming in now and again, he trusts you fully. Knowing you're going to make it the best regardless. 
Leading up to the big day you think you just might pass out from stress and never be seen again, but the almost year of planning pays off, and you're married! 
The honeymoon is spent traveling all over while jude is wide-eyed, unable to believe he's married to you of all people. 
The press catches on soon after, even if your wedding was small and intimate. News comes out one way or another.
Jude only responds with a picture of you two slow dancing among your family and friends, captioned, “all you need to know.” and he pins it to every social media page. 
What a man huh?
939 notes · View notes
vagabond-umlaut · 7 months
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l'heure bleue
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Ferocious, fearsome, infallible. The King Of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, has never fought a war he hasn't won.
But, does that mean he'll taste success in this battle of beliefs, raging against no one but his Queen, as well?
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▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; sooo much of tooth-rotting! domestic fluff between sukuna & reader; sukuna is so exhausted, still so fond of his dear wife; said wife is not too soft towards her husband [she has valid reasons, dw]; talks on death; indirect talk on periods & pregnancy; 0% ANGST IN THIS– ONLY FLUFFY HUMOR; spoiler alert— would-be-dad!sukuna x would-be-mom!reader
▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!
▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️
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"I'm dying. Very soon."
While not the deep kiss you've always welcomed him with, into your chambers, every night of your married life— Sukuna reckons, he will take this many many times over the tense hush you've been offering him these days.
Shrugging his heavy cloak off his shoulders, the King of Curses walks over to where you're on the bed and frowns, fingers moving to thread through your unkempt hair, then run down the side of your face. Your eyes flutter close for a beat– undoubtedly, from the gentle caress, he surmises– before they grow wide open, blinking with tears of fear.
Rubbing the pad of his thumb over your wobbling lower lip, your lover sighs, knowing full well where this conversation might be going– still, as always, he decides to humor your concerns with an ask of his own.
"Did my Queen visit the royal physician, along with Uraume today?"
"No," you shake your head meekly, "I did not visit the physician. I was resting in our room the entire day."
"If you weren't feeling well, you could have asked her to visit you here, right?" your husband queries, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his lap. Snuggling into him with a soft hum, you send a miserable look his way— eliciting something eerily similar to the emotions, your husband knows, no curse like him should ever be able to feel.
Yet here he is, feeling every one of those, with his wife in his grasp.
You shake your head a second time; however, with greater force than before. "No. I knew I would be dying soon but I did not want to hear it from her. I wanted you to tell me that awful news, my king. I love you, I wanted you to say it. To confirm it."
You love him, so he must confirm your imminent death!?!?— Stunned by your odd words of reasoning, Sukuna gapes at you, dumbfounded; before he shakes himself free of the shock, discerning you to be three words, or even less, away from dissolving into your pathetic wails.
He smooths the top of your head with a palm, whilst another palm of his squeezes your hip, hoping the action will bring you some comfort. You place a small palm over the latter, voice growing shaky when you say, "Won't you confirm the terrible news, my lord?"
"No," Sukuna's quick to deny you in an instant, "Because I firmly don't believe you're anywhere close to dying. You're as healthy as a horse— or whatever idiotic creature, you humans use in your idiotic idioms."
A facsimile of a smile threatens to erupt onto your lips— it is vanished before the next second— with you crumbling into a mess of tears and snot, face pressed into his chest, whilst your fingers dig into his back.
Sukuna stifles a weary sigh, before wrapping his arms gingerly round your midsection, taking extra care not to jostle you or anything. "You aren't dying anytime soon, my Queen," he struggles to coo, but ends up grumbling, "I won't let you ever leave my side– you stupid woman. You're stuck with me forever– don't I always tell you that, my Queen?"
"You do, Sukuna," you mumble, with a weak nod of your head, "But I do feel so close to dying every moment of the day— so weak and so dizzy and so nauseous– even you've become so careful with me, my king!" you exclaim, red-rimmed swollen eyes glaring accusingly into every ruby eye of his.
Filling him with an addicting thrilling delight he has never felt before.
"You've always been so rough with me— Now, when you're being so gentle with me, out of nowhere, tell me: must the implication of you thinking me to be fragile, along with those awful symptoms– not be worrisome? Must I not think, you consider me to be near my death– hence, this newfound wariness? Hence, you, and even Uraume, who has always been so free to speak their mind before me– the both of you walking on stupid fucking eggshells around me– tell me, 'Kuna!"
A silence punctuates your outburst, filled only by the sounds of your noisy breathing– the latter replacing the sounds of your crying.— An odd yet not unpleasant, emotion taking over the shape of his mouth and curving it upwards, Sukuna drags a finger down your backbone, relishing in the way you shiver, then relax with a sigh under his touch.
Letting your temper to ebb away for another good minute, your lover inquires, keeping his tone void of anything except curiosity, "When is the last time you used your pain-relieving bath salts, pet?"
Your eyes blinking slowly, Sukuna watches them travel to the cabinet where you keep them stored in stacks, before returning to him, quite puzzled. And fatigued.
Adorably small yawns escaping, you murmur.
"I only use them when it's that time of month, which was..." Your eyes flutter open and close, painfully slowly, yet again— before they widen, becoming not unlike the full moon in the sky tonight.
You gasp, shaky fingers poking your belly before reaching a rest on it.
Covering them with his much larger ones, your lover hums, "Happy?"
"Not at all," you shake your head, reaching your other hand to trail the many tattoos on your husband's face, before stopping at the apple of his cheek.
Sukuna swears time ceases to exist in the momentary pause you take— restored only by the blinding beam you offer next, followed by your sweet voice uttering those words, he knows he'll remember for all the millennia he will live.
"I'm very, very happy— you dummy prehistoric curse."
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▸ masterlist
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redtsundere-writes · 4 days
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sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33
Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen
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king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader
Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.
Beginning. ← Previous |
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Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining. 
Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing. 
You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked. 
“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire. 
Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef. 
“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him. 
After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence. 
“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him. 
“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture. 
Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. 
“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity. 
Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do? 
“Yes,” you answered with a smile. 
That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that. 
“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you. 
“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down. 
Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it. 
“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.
“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be. 
Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions. 
This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so. 
Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.
“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square. 
Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble. 
“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king. 
At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.
Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts. 
“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up. 
“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king. 
“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king. 
“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started. 
There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade. 
Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.  
“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology. 
“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction. 
Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them. 
“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed. 
“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room. 
Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.
“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move. 
“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle. 
“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat. 
“She has potential.” 
“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement. 
“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently. 
Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that. 
The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table. 
“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question. 
“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.
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Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.
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Masterlist.
497 notes · View notes
asimpforyagami · 6 days
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🇨​​ 🇴 ​​🇴​​ 🇰​​ 🇮 ​​🇪​​ 🇸​ !
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BSD MEN REACT TO YOU BAKING COOKIES FOR THEM AFTER A BAD DAY.
↷ A/N ─ we hit 5k+ notes !! im so happy :D there's gonna be an event which im gonna talk about at the end of this. enjoy and please leave likes and reblogs :)
★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa
!! TAGS ─ fluff, pure fluff, hurt/comfort, angst
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"i know you had a bad day, so i made you cookies"
ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.
It wasn't abnormal for someone like you to see Dazai cry. Nevertheless, it'd make him feel embarrassed, even pathetic for showing his emotions to you in such a way. And somewhere in his mind, he could see the faint looks of pity on your face every time he broke down, eyes glossy as he'd remember his old days at the Port Mafia with his perfect little friend group.
He was Osamu Dazai. He had experienced pain, loss, a few fleeting moments of joy, and so much. He had been through a lot. He did not need anyone's sympathy - even yours.
This day was, hence, nothing out of the ordinary. Dazai had trudged back home with heavy steps, dismissing your questions about his whereabouts and remarks about how drenched he got in the rain.
He had gone straight into the bathroom and locked himself in. It didn't matter how many years had passed since Oda's death. It would always feel like yesterday to him, so close yet so far away. It would always rip his heart out how if he had been there just a few moments earlier, he could never have had to watch his only friend die.
He sank to his knees near the wash basin and cried.
---
There was a knock on the door. Dazai scrambled to his feet to open it. He was in the bedroom after another breakdown, locked away.
"Dazai?" he heard your soft voice from outside the door. His heart warmed up a little and he opened the door.
"I know you had a bad day," you said, holding out a plate of freshly baked cookies, "so I baked you cookies."
Dazai looked down at the plate for a moment, then looked back up at you. He felt numb. He felt disoriented. Slowly, he reached out to break one cookie with his fingers and ate it.
"This... this is amazing," he said quietly, tears blurring his vision, threatening to break him down once more.
"It's not much. They're only chocolate chip," you waved a hand off. "Do you like them?"
"Yeah," he replied in a breathy voice. "Yeah, I do."
His ruined day had been perfected by a mere batch of cookies. As you urged him to have more, he finally smiled.
How could someone be so kind?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.
Chuuya was no stranger to drinking and passing out on his couch only to be woken up by you late at night so that he could come to the bed and sleep comfortably there. He felt pathetic for using wine and alcohol as a means of coping with loneliness, especially after Dazai left the Port Mafia.
"Chuuya?" you whispered softly in his ear.
He stirred in his sleep, one hand hanging off the couch while empty bottles crowded on the floor.
"Chuuya."
His eyelids fluttered open, and with a groan, he shifted on the couch, his hand instinctively reaching for the bottle that lay within arm's reach.
But before he could grasp it, you gripped his hand gently.
"No," you said firmly.
He paused to look at you before rubbing his eyes with his other hand and sitting up.
"I baked you cookies," you murmured, sitting on the couch beside him.
It was only then that Chuuya noticed his favourite cookies decorating a plate that sat on the table in front of him. You leaned forward to grab two cookies, shoving one in your mouth and the other in his.
With his mouth stuffed with a cookie, he couldn't help but stare at you as the events of the entire day crashed onto him all at once. A tear slipped from his eye - of joy, admiration or sadness, he did not know. But as he stared lovingly at the way you playfully scolded him for not including you in the drinking session, your voice muffled from the food, there was only one thought that crossed his mind.
How could he ever be stupid enough to believe that he was lonely when he had you?
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ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.
Ranpo was not the type to cry in front of people. With his child-like confidence, very few people had ever actually seen him in a vulnerable state.
So it was distressing when he realized you saw right through his fake smile. He felt like an idiot for not predicting that you would get to know about how upset he was after the President scolded him.
He lay on his bed. Even thinking was too tiring for him right now. His hair was all over his face, his head pressed against his pillow. There was a knock on the door, and he spoke in a quiet voice, "Come in."
You entered with a plate of cookies. They were shaped like little stars, each with a different flavour and colour. You set the plate next to the nightstand and gave him a soft smile.
"I know you had a bad day, so I baked you cookies."
"You... you did?" he whispered, his voice cracking as he slowly sat upright to look at you in the eyes.
"I tried. I don't know how they taste. I wanted you to be the first one to take a bite."
He nodded and you sat down on the floor, looking up at him and putting a cookie in his mouth gently. Ranpo opened his mouth and felt the savoury taste of your baking.
"I like it," he hummed.
"Really? Do you want me to make some more for you tomorrow?"
"You will?" his face brightened up genuinely. "I love you!"
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ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.
Akutagawa was one to hide emotions from everyone. He did not like to let others think of him as human, but rather as a creature to be feared, and someone to be proud of to Dazai.
Since the night Dazai had been abducted and Akutagawa had interrogated him, the latter had been quiet. He was never to talk too much or overshare, but it could be sensed that something had hurt him deeply.
"Ryuu?" you said softly sitting down next to him.
"No," he looked away, shunning you out before you even got the chance to speak.
"I know you had a bad day," you smiled softly, "so I baked you cookies."
He glanced at you from the corner of his eye before his heart melted. You had the most beautiful look on your face, two hands supporting a plate of cookies. He had never told you what his favourite ones were, frankly he couldn't decide. Sweet things just weren't for him.
But these ones, the ones that you made just for him? These were his favourites. The ones you had made that showed how much you understood him.
At that point, he realized he did not have to change himself to gain the approval he desired in the past. He had already won in life the moment he met you.
.
.
.
.
.
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🇹​​ 🇭 ​​🇦​​ 🇳​​ 🇰​ ​🇾 ​​🇴​​ 🇺 ​ ​🇫​​ 🇴​​ 🇷​ 5 ​🇰​ ​🇳 ​​🇴 ​​🇹​​ 🇪 ​​🇸 !
HERE IS THE PROMPT LIST FOR THE EVENT.
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WE DID IT AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHSHRFEEKFHKNFAKN
THE WAY I SCREAMED ILYYY TYSM FOR THIS IM SO HAPPY :D
so OBVIOUSLY there should be an event 🤭 because as I've said multiple times i love spoiling yall
again, the prompt list for the event is here. all you have to do is ask for a scenario + character and i'll write it out :)
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joelslastofus · 17 days
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[SUMMARY: Joel sleeps with his innocent married next door neighbor after fixing her sink.]
Smut
“He could see the guilt you felt, the confusion you felt when you suddenly smacked him across the face. He barely moved, accepting your hit with his hand still around your waist.”
The phone sitting right beside you, Joel could read the name on the called ID. It was your husband.
“Answer it” he whispered.
A tiny hint of Javier Peña in this
“Damn it, Henry” you sighed checking under your sink to see it was leaking much more than earlier. Of course your husband was coming home late once again from work leaving you to a messy kitchen. The water over flowing and it being late in the evening you knew no plumber would be available to come now. The thought of asking your neighbor Joel Miller was tempting but also a bit embarrassing this late in the day. Joel knew you and he knew your husband, the two of them weren’t exactly friends but whenever they’d see each other they’d have a quick talk about whatever game was going on. With a sigh you snapped yourself out of it and marched yourself to Joel’s front door.
It didn’t take long before Joel opened his door, intrigued to find you on the other end.
“Stella” he greeted you with half a smile.
“Hey, Joel…I’m sorry for bothering late. Henry won’t be back until God knows what time and my sink is leaking and-“
“Say no more,” he chuckled before calling out to Tommy letting him know where he would be.
Grabbing some tools from the back of his truck he followed you to your house right behind you. Not being able to stop himself from enjoying the view of the way you walked up the stairs, the move of your hips with each step his eyes were glued to your ass.
“Sorry again about this” he quickly looked up as you turned around opening the door for him.
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’” Joel always had a way with words, yet it wasn’t exactly what he said but more of how he said it.
Standing to the side you watched how he got to work under your sink. One of his legs lay flat while the other was bent, you couldn’t help but notice his navy blue shirt being pulled up slightly, revealing a light soft patch of hair that led to his-
“How long has this been like this?” Joel’s question distracting your thoughts, distracting your eyes.
“Oh uh-Henry tried to fix it but-“
“Yeah I could see that” he chuckled, his arms flexing as he worked. There you were again checking out Joel as he lay under your sink when your house phone rang.
“Not again, Henry” Joel heard you speak with disappointment, he couldn’t help but take a peak at you as stood by the counter.
“We’ve had to change it so many times, silly me for thinking you’d prioritize your wife” Joel looked down at you and watched as you sadly hung up the phone and pushed it aside. Before you knew it he was finished wiping his hands clean.
“That’s it?”
“Yes mam’” he smiled yet noticed the sadness in your eyes.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah” you sighed not being able to hide the disappointment you felt.
“Henry and I made four years last week and we’ve yet to celebrate it because theres always a reason for him to come home late, even bought this damn bottle of wine to surprise him,” you rolled your eyes. Joel tilted his head and crossed his arms listening to what you had to say.
“I can’t remember the last time we went on a date and we don’t even have children keeping us busy…ain’t that sad?” You chuckled sarcastically.
“I even bought this new stupid dress I’m wearing now to see if he’d like it and now I’m blabbing away-“
“You look beautiful in it” Joel’s compliment completely catching you off guard.
“Thank you” he watched as your eyes lit up before you realized you hadn’t even offered him a glass of water.
“Oh god, how rude am I? Would ya like a glass of water or tea? Coffee?”
“How about wine?” A playful look in his eyes as he motioned to the bottle you had just mentioned.
“You know what….why not?” You grabbed two glasses and the wine opener, pouring each a cup. Joel watched as you took a sip from your cup and tried to hold back a smile.
“What cha smiling about?” Joel asked with a smirk.
“If my husband knew I was standing here having wine with you-“ you laughed as he stepped closer to you.
“How would he feel about that? ” He asked curiously, a squint in his eyes.
“He probably wouldn’t like it” you looked down with embarrassment.
“Oh yeah?” He took another step closer.
“Or he’s probably too distracted right now with his secretary anyways too wonder what the hell I’m doing” you rolled your eyes before chugging the remainder of your wine. You always suspected your husband wasn’t faithful. Joel watched as you wiped your lips still lost in thought before you realized he was staring at you.
“Sorry- I know you don’t care to hear about any of that”
“Hmm..I don’t know darling I just find it hard to believe a man could get distracted with another woman when he has you at home” a light shade of red appearing on your cheeks as you quickly looked away. It had been a while since another man flirted with you so directly you didn’t know how to respond. Quickly pouring yourself another glass Joel chuckled as you chugged down what you poured. Silently he walked towards you, slowly pulling the glass away from your lips and setting it aside. You could feel your heart racing, leaning back against the counter as he looked down at your lips.
Was this actually happening?
“Joel” you whispered as his eyes found yours, his hands gently falling on your hips.
“You..you now I’m married..” you whispered as he pressed his body against yours. He was hesitant for a moment, analyzing your face.
“Happily?” His question making you react with a look of defeat.
No you weren’t happy, you hadn’t been for a long time and Joel could always see it whenever he saw you and your husband together yet you never expected this from Joel.
You couldn’t respond and before you even realized, he closed the distance between your lips and kissed you sending a shock through your body. Your eyes were open as he took you by surprise, his hand slowly closing around your waist pulling you harder against him before he gently parted away.
“I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t thought of doing this for some time now” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead.
“This ain’t very much gentleman like of me but for some reason….I don’t care” he smirked before kissing you again. This time you closed your eyes, your hands brushing up his chest and wrapping around his neck, your body melting into his. You were losing control forgetting what was right or wrong, he pushed aside the dishes behind you and quickly lifted you up onto the counter without parting his lips from yours. His hands sliding under your dress making you gasp and turn away from his lips.
“Joel….” You whispered. No other man beside your husband had touched you in almost a decade.
“I…I’ve never done this before…I have a husband” you spoke as if you were trying to remind yourself of the man you married. Joel could tell this was the first time any other man aside from your husband touched you. The thought giving him a rush.
Refusing to look up into his deep brown eyes barely able to make out your words you swallowed nervously.
“This is…it’s wrong” you made the mistake of looking up at him and found him staring at your lips, yearning to feel more of them.
“So tell me to stop” he whispered before looking up into your eyes.
“Tell me to stop and I promise I’ll leave, darlin’”
You knew you couldn’t.
You didn’t want him to.
Slowly you could hear the sound of him unbuttoning his jeans, his lips pressed against your cheek before slowly finding yours again. Joel knew you had never done something like this before, somehow that intrigued him more. He moved slowly, giving you the chance to stop him but he knew damn well you wouldn’t. Feeling his hands between your thighs you felt him slowly slide your underwear off your legs, throwing them to the side. Shoving your dress higher he positioned himself right at your entrance slowly sliding himself in you. Breathing each other in you moaned as his thrust pushed your body up against the wall. It felt exactly like you what you wanted.
What you needed.
Your arms slow grabbing onto his shoulders as he penetrated you deeply. A louder moan than you expected escaped your lips, Joel smirked looking down at how much you creamed all over his cock.
“Look at that..” he whispered roughly.
“Wanted it that bad, huh?” He thrusted harder when the house phone rang making you gasp. The phone sitting right beside you, Joel could read the name on the called ID.
It was your husband.
“Answer it”
“What?” You panted as he continued to move into you.
“Answer it” he demanded, his hand sliding behind your neck grabbing a chunk of your hair. A look you had never seen from him as he eagerly waited for you to do as he said.
Looking at the caller ID your heart sunk, what the hell was Joel thinking?
“Joel..I can’t” you whispered when he tugged at your hair.
“Yes you can” he held himself inside you deeply making you gasp.
“Hello?” You whispered, the phone shaking in your hand against your ear as Joel looked dead at you. Your husband of course making more excuses on how he would get home even later than he first said. Yet, for the first time in months…you didn’t care. Joel unexpectedly began to slam into you faster, a panic arising in your eyes as you felt yourself about to cum.
Your husband speaking as you attempted to control your breathing but at this level of pleasure it was impossible.
“I don’t know what damn time I’ll be home tonight so please don’t wait up for me, maybe I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t call my office either” Your husband continued as Joel watched your eyes begin to roll back. Biting his bottom lip as sweat dripped down his forehead he felt you tighten up around his cock.
“Hello? Are you even listening?!!” Your husband yelled when ecstasy exploded throughout your body.
“Yes!” You screamed uncontrollably, the phone slipping from your hands falling into pieces onto the floor. Grabbing onto Joel you moaned as he watched an orgasm take over you completely.
“Please…please-“ you begged as your body arched against him. Joel grunted pulling your hips closer to him thrusting his hips against you as you came.
“Joel…” you whispered, your body collapsing back against the wall. Out of breath you could barely say a word Joel quickly pulled out and came on your thigh making a sound of sweet relief.
A twist of emotions exploding through your chest. A pleasure you had never felt before mixed with a guilt you never knew you could feel.
“Oh my god…” you whispered as he turned away fixing himself up. Grabbing some paper towels you cleaned yourself off still in shock with what you had just done. Getting off the counter your legs felt like jello practically making you lose your balance. Joel quickly turned and held you up by your waist as you looked up at him feeling confused yet you didn’t know what to say. He could see the guilt you felt, the confusion you felt when you suddenly smacked him across the face. He barely moved, accepting your hit with his hand still around your waist. You attempted to push his hand off before he abruptly pulled you tighter against him. You gasped not expecting his reaction as he stared down at you intensely not saying a word.
“You-“ Joel grabbed your face pressing his lips to yours as you struggled to push away for just a second, his hands grabbing your wrists before you melted once again in his arms. Parting his lips from you he looked down breathlessly.
“It’s alright” he whispered as you looked up at him innocently. He knew what he had just done, but Joel didn’t regret it, hell he wished he could stay with you.
Kissing your forehead he silently left your home as you stood against the counter in shocker. Your phone still on the floor, your underwear right beside it with a drop of his cum you had noticed.
What the hell did this mean?
Joel went to his home and walked in casually passing Tommy who sat at the table eating a sandwich. Tommy didn’t even get to say a word with how quickly Joel hid himself in the bathroom starting the shower.
Staring at himself in the mirror he didn’t know what to feel. This wasn’t like Joel to sleep with a married woman yet the guilt he felt was more from you. The look in your eyes as you had realized what you had done he felt responsible for…yet he couldn’t keep himself away….
Part 2?
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ilk-insolence · 5 months
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Raph Is A Great Strategist
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Numerous times in the show Raph has shown to have a preference for straightforwardly punching his problems away rather than think up a more complex solution. Like how his immediate fix to getting Mayhem out of the mirror in Mystic Library was to punch everything in the bathroom but the mirror. However, when Raph understands the situation requires more in depth strategy, he’s shown to be an incredibly capable tactician.
(long post ahead!)
In nearly all the plot heavy episodes like Shadow of Evil, Many Unhappy Returns, and the season finales, Raph gets moments where he’s highlighted for his strategic thinking. In Insane in the Mama Train, he’s the one who figures out which eyeball-button goes to the front car with the dark armor, because “‘it was the only button [the Foot Clan] didn’t want me to press!’” [21:05]. He’s also the one who came up with the scheme to defeat all the (known) combatants in the train, with Leo specifically attributing Raph as the deviser during their mind meld [19:46]. In Many Unhappy Returns, after spending a single night waylaying the Shredder, Raph formulated a plan using all the tricks the team learned, seamlessly transitioning the mystic collar Leo acquired into it [19:53], to defeating the Shredder. Additionally, he’s repeatedly called for a retreat during fights, like in Shadow of Evil, Shreddy or Not (Finale pt 2), and the movie, when he can tactically recognize that a battle couldn’t be won. Each time, the show/movie implied that that was the right call, for the family to lose the fight but win the war.
And it’s not just that Raph is good at strategy when he’s pushed to be more serious; the show characterizes him as passionate about creating plans, he enjoys doing it. Literally in the first episode, Mystic Mayhem, after the turtles’ initial plan failed of getting Splinter out of the living room to touch his Do-Not-Touch Cabinet, Raph immediately started devising a new plan that involved “ten chickens [and] a gallon of rubber cement” [9:35]. It was convoluted, sure, and they didn’t end up using it, but it was inventive and the opposite of reluctant. This is also shown in Bug Busters, where Raph planned out dousing Mikey in honey to attract the oozequitoes [2:52]; Snow Day, with the idea to freeze Ghost Bear like in Jupiter Jim Pluto Vacation 4; and Raph’s Ride-Along (and also Bad Hair Day), where Mind Raph created multiple schemes to get the criminals arrested. The show wouldn’t have made Raph be so creative with his plans if they were trying to characterize him as someone who didn’t like strategizing.
So does why Raph do stupid shit sometimes where he doesn’t think things through at all? Well, even though Raph is good at strategy and enjoys doing it, it’s clear his immediate impulse is still “punch the problem in the face”. In fact, all the turtle boys contain the fascinating dichotomy of being incredibly smart in some areas, and the dumbest teenagers alive in others. Just look at Donnie. It’s also how Raph is a loving protective older brother, and the guy who shoved Leo into a wall so hard he disappeared in one frame for shits and giggles (The Mutant Menace x). None of this means that Raph is bad at strategy though.
tldr: Yeah, Raph has a lot of dumb and, frankly, insane moments in the show, but he’s still an incredible tactician who’s plans consistently saved his family and sometimes the world. He's a great strategist.
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