#but it is preserved as it was in that moment in time in the minds of /as perceived by those it cast out
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The hunt
Fallout masterlist - main masterlist
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x reader
Summary: you were sent to retrieve a precious item, but so was the most notorious bounty hunter in the Wasteland...
(this happens before Cooper ended up in that grave)
Words: 1143
Warnings: swearing
Notes: I had a female reader in mind while reading this but it turned out to be quite neutral so I guess it could be read a gender-neutral as well 😊
Chapter 1 - The plan
The blistering sun burned down on the dusty South Californian wasteland as he entered the ruins of a long deserted town. Tugging his cowboy hat lower to shield his eyes from the blinding sunshine, he instinctively reached for his revolver, drawing it from its holster as he sauntered towards you.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?", he asked with a grin, aiming his gun at you.
You had spotted him the moment he entered the ruins, but hiding was never your style. Your curiosity got the better of you, eager to finally meet the ghoulish bounty hunter whose reputation preceded him. Lifting your gaze from his gun to meet his eyes, you rose to your feet, a mischievous smirk painted across your lips.
"A beautiful face, a wicked sense of humour that provides for good company and", picked up the shotgun propped against the adjacent wall, "a loaded gun if you decide on becoming a problem."
He raised an eyebrow, eyeing the shotgun before returning your smirk.
"Now, ain't that a welcome you could take as a compliment and a warning. Well, you can rest easy, darlin’. I ain't lookin’ to turn this into a bloodbath."
"Neither do I. Would be a shame to rid this world of the legendary Cooper Howard.", you winked at him as you put your gun back.
The ghoul chuckled, holstered his revolver, and tipped his hat while taking a step closer to you.
"Now ain't you a charmer? And one who's done their homework as well."
"Oh when a pre-war celebrity as dashing as you becomes the most renowned bounty hunter of this unforgiving wasteland, one simply must take a closer look."
"Don't go makin' an ol' ghoul blush with your pretty words", he teased.
"As if one could see the blush on that red skin of yours", you chuckled, "so what brings the most feared bounty hunter to this lost place?"
You were intrigued by this man out of time. He lived in the pre-war era, a world that was so different from the one you were born into, wandering around for two decades while he was forced to watch the world crumble and slowly rebuild itself, for better or worse. It begged the question what all this would do to a human's sanity and yet he didn't strike you as mad, quite on the contrary, he possessed something that you'd describe as old world charm paired in a deadly combination with one of the sharpest minds. His expression took on a slightly more serious edge, his gaze fixing to the edge of the ruins.
"Well, I’ve been tracking a caravan, you see. They’re supposed to be passing through these parts sometime soon. I’m looking for a specific item they’re carrying and since this ain't exactly a common route, I'd bet my wrinkly ass you're here for the exact same reason."
"What a coincidence", you laughed, taking out your flask, unscrewing the lid, "that item wouldn't happen to be a crate full of well preserved bottles of the finest pre-war whiskey?"
You took a sip and tapped the space beside you on the wall, gesturing for him to join you before extending the flask towards him. He nodded appreciatively as he accepted it. You were clearly a hunter just like him but your kindness caught him off guard, it was a rare occurrence in the harsh reality of the Wasteland, especially among gunslingers. To him you seemed like a rare but quite intriguing specimen, beauty and charm in a passionate tango with deadly cunning, a single dionaea muscipula thriving in the desert and he was the fly irresistibly drawn to it. This was exactly why he usually kept his distance from others but around you his resolve seemed to crumble, enchanted by the brightness and beauty of your soul.
"Quite the coincidence indeed", the Ghoul murmured, "I wonder how you by this information? If I'd had to guess I'd say that prick Dom Pedro hired one too many for this job."
"Given my additional instructions to kill a certain ghoul should he happen to cross my path, I'd say you're spot on. So what shall we do about this?", you asked, turning towards him, away from the gun as you kept your hands on your lap.
You pokered high on this one, knowing damn well it was a huge risk to admit your instructions to eliminate him while having no intent to do so, it made you vulnerable in front of the Wasteland's most fearsome bounty hunter.
Cooper lit a cigarette, a faint glow casting an eerie glow on his ghoulish face as he puffed on it, studying you with a combination of intrigue and admiration. You had made no move to actually fulfill that part of your contract, another thing that intrigued him about you, another contrast to every other bloodthirsty fucker he met in fucked up ruined world and maybe this was exactly what he needed.
"Well now, ain't that a question for the ages. The way I see it, we got three choices here. First, we could settle this like every other idiot in the trade and see who's left standin'. Second, we could team up and increase our chances of snatchin' that shipment, shared profit of course. Or third...", he took a long drag on his cigarette before throwing it to the ground.
"We get the item, return to dear old Dom and fuck him up gloriously", you offered with a mischievous grin.
Cooper's smile widened as he nodded in agreement. He'd risk a lot but not shooting you straight away but there was this feeling, buried deep down within him that urged him to trust you, a faint notion of the same tingling he had felt so long ago, back when his skin was still smooth and life was less complicated.
"Now you're talkin' my language. Ain't nothin' more exciting than a well-executed betrayal. Besides ol' Dom deserves what's comin' for him. So what do you say? You in?", he asked, extending his hand towards you, his eyes locked on yours.
"Hell yeah", you chuckled and shook his hand, "pleasure doin' business with you, Howard."
The way his name fell from your lips stirred something within him. For over two decades, nobody had called him by his real name, everywhere he went he always simply the ghoul, the notorious mercenary who drifted from place to place, leaving chaos and bloodshed in his wake. However you were the very first person in a long time who seemed to see something different in him and the fearless yet teasing way you talked to him had this undeniable hint of respect, dancing around the borders of genuine affection. He sighed and got up as the sounds of chatters in the distance rang to his ears.
“Our target's approaching, let's get goin'.”
Chapter 2
Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story 😊
#fallout#fallout tv series#cooper howard#the ghoul#fallout ghoul#fallout x reader#fallout x you#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#bounty hunter#two hunters one target#ghoul x reader#ghoul x you
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It may be a little far to mention WHGTB now, but I remember you mentioned before how Tom would react if Harry really died in the first two times (the time when Harry went out to find food and the time when his grandfather was killed)
However, Harry died in WHGTB not only twice, but I really want to know how Tom would react if Harry died several times and didn't bring him back as the owner of death?When Harry mourned for Beth in the snow, did he die once? I remember the description in that paragraph. Harry was almost frozen stiff until magic began to save his body.If he really dies at this time, and Tom comes home and only sees Harry's frozen body ... I can't imagine what it would be like.And the duel between Harry and Grindelwald and the time when Harry committed suicide by drinking poison, I really want to know how Tom will react when Harry really dies at these moments.
I would be very grateful if you could answer my question!!!
Hi! Oh, no worries, I'm always glad to get asks about my stories, including the ones I've already finished.
I think that if Harry were to die at any point for good, especially after Tom got fully hooked on him, it would break and destroy Tom irrevocably.
In the first scenario you mentioned, if Harry wasn't a MoD and froze to death in his grief over Tom becoming a murderer, and Tom came upon him, I struggle to even imagine how he would manage to survive with his sanity intact. He'd understand that it happened because of him, because of his direct involvement, and this thought would never leave his mind. It'd torment him until the end of the times.
He'd stay there with Harry's body for the entire day and night, with only his own magic keeping him alive, and after that, if he succeeded in gathering himself together at least a little bit, he'd start to plan. He wouldn't tell anyone that Harry is dead because then it would mean accepting this new reality, and this is something he'd never do. Tom would construct some icy coffin to preserve his body and look at it whenever he wants, remembering why he needs to keep functioning, and then he'd throw himself into studying time travel, resurrection, immortality, and other related themes, all the while acting like Harry is alive both for the others and for the benefit of his own sanity. He'd send him letters from Hogwarts, write replies pretending to be Harry, argue with the imagined version of him, etc. Sooner or later, he'd succeed in bringing Harry back. Someone with Tom's level of power, in the world of magic, and with his determination can probably do anything.
What kind of life they'd have afterward is another question. I doubt Tom would be entirely sane at that point.
As for the second scenario, in the duel with Grindelwald, once Tom realized Harry was dead, he'd probably end up dead himself. He wouldn't be able to destroy Grindelwald on his own since Tom at that age wasn't his equal, and the pain, horror, and devastation from Harry's death would engulf him completely. Either Grindelwald would kill him, using his state, or Tom's own magic would tore him from inside out in an attempt to kill Grindelwald or bring Harry back.
With the poison, Tom would probably repeat the pattern from scenario 1. After forcing himself to resume functioning again, he'd throw everything he had into reversing what Harry did and reviving him. Only he wouldn't pretend like Harry isn't gone, he'd be entirely focused on his task, consumed by it to the point where Hogwarts and keeping up the pretense wouldn't matter.
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"No one returns from exile, ever. My country was no more, neither were the people the same people, nor I, Augusto."
-Augusto Boal, 2001
#yes i'm posting this because of garak i have a problem#but also! everyone is so enamored of boal and to#and yet no one ever told me the man was tortured by his state#no one ever talked about what it meant that so much of his work was developed in literal exile#and of course i'm thinking about it in conversation with the ilya kaminsky quote#the country i left no longer exists except perhaps in my imagination#something about: those exiled become the record-keepers#holders of memory#the nation moves beyond them and the people left behind change with the country#but it is preserved as it was in that moment in time in the minds of /as perceived by those it cast out#and so okay yes fucking fine garak#as the memory keeper in exile#of a cardassia that existed only in the moment of his exile
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You’re gonna die if you keep that up (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#ZEX#Kayako#And Teisel's there technically#*Die again - he's sticking with his track record lol at least he's consistent#Ghost/Curse GF arc!! I enjoy seeing ZEX happy but I am Concerned for him lol#ZEX be attracted to something/one that won't brutally murder him challenge - difficulty impossible#His affection for the grotesque and monstrous - I mean while it's admirable he does regularly put himself in dangerous situations!#Runs solely on the Suspension Bridge Effect lol - attraction and fear so conflated in his mind <3#I keep thinking of his human instincts as specifically Max's instincts since it's his body - Max's self-preservation and fear and hunger#Which ZEX dutifully ignores lol Max's body tells him to bolt and privately replies like ''Yes yes in a moment'' haha#His fascination wins out! To his own detriment haha#Although I say all that as though I don't relate in my own way - I have maybe just a few too many notes relating to ZEX lol#It's always been hard for me to get into horror in the way it's intended to spook and scare because I tend to get sad :')#So many monsters and ghosts and creatures are victims of circumstance! Like Kayako! As she is here she's not even malicious just dangerous#I've never seen the Grudge so it's only speculation but it seems very sad that she was tethered as a Curse rather than a malignant spirit#Like a battery moreso than an individual - what a terrible after-existence! It makes me sad to consider!#ZEX reaching out to her in his own way is very sweet <3 He's so biased towards his darlings hehe#In a way being human does suit him - we'll packbond with anything that Might have even the slightest inclination to not maim us lol#And the way he personifies her! (VUXonifies her?) Reading intention or emotion into her actions with no proof and no understanding!#The way he ''tries to read her face'' as if he hasn't been struggling with that this entire time - with other humans who can tell him so ♪#His pride is so delicious <3 He is so easily blinded to his own shortcomings in the face of pleasure and the potential for connection!#It's no wonder DAX worries about him so much hehe ♥#It also always makes me so happy to have something fit together so perfectly like those last two hehe <3#That vine didn't exist when this happened! But there it is!! I love newer memes on older media hehehe ♪♫
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one of the worst feelings out there is believing that somebody is your friend and/or thinking their intentions for you are good only to find out that they never gave a shit about you in the first place.
#tw vent#personal#this could be implied to many people in my life but i got a couple irls in mind atm#never trust a snake#like i hate it when i'm putting in all this effort to preserve a friendship that i care about#only for the receiving person to just say nah fuck it you don't matter to me lol and they just go cold turkey#like if there's something i did wrong i'd like to know what it was. even if it hurts. it's better than just lying to me#'oh i'm sure they didn't mean to treat you that way' doesn't matter. they wouldn't have hurt me in the first place if they had cared ab me#and had considered my feelings for one small moment but nah easier to be a fake lying ass#and then i feel like i just wasted all that time and energy for nothing lol#oh well that's life
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Are the Geofront saves really compatible with the Officially released version of Zero O_O
Those mad lads!
#don't mind me having a moment#a bit moot for me since i got the switch version lol#but still ABSOLUTELY AMAZING!!!#I'm just so glad the switch version includes all the fancy features added for the PC#I'm also just so !!!!!!!! at how much care and enhancements went into the original Geofront fan translation#AND WERE THEN PRESERVED FOR THE OFFICIAL RELEASE!#I know Kai added a few things that Geofront did (coincidence or were they inspired? xD)#but i love how the we ultimately ended up getting the definitive Crossbell with all the bonus goodies from all releases#including dynamic shadows from the Evo port xD#(apparently that was a thing!)#Crossbell is finally officially available in English#words cannot describe my joy! T_T#I never did finish the geofront zero admittedly... part of me is tempted to get the steam version and load my old save#but also it's been years so i probably should just replay it and enjoy the fancy new features on switch#i have extremely mixed feelings about the trails series after cold steel#but trails in the sky is one of my favorite games of all time and i hope i can include the crossbell arc in that!#based on the half of the geofront release that i played i'm pretty confident >.<#but it also kinda hurts playing the older games knowing what quality writing cold steel brings us
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Warning- this is a very petty post, but I think I'm entitled to at least one petty, pissed-off reaction every time I finish a classic novel that hit harder than I expected so take this as my quota for the year.
Also spoiler warning for a book that came out over a century ago but still, I didn't know the plot going in so don't want to ruin it for anyone else, if you haven't read it shut your eyes. (Also Local Tumblr User Going Wild Over Book Published a Hundred Years Ago That Everybody Else Already Read should probably be categorised as akey part of indigenous tumblr culture at this point).
Anyway I just finished the War of the Worlds and in between studying I've thinking about Themes and Motifs as you do, and idly looking for further analysis. I then accidentally ran into an article called 'A Quiet Place II Succeeds Where the War of the Worlds Failed' and:
Now I haven't seen any of the Quiet Place films, this is not a rant against them and of course everyone is entitled to their own opinions. But re: the ending of The War of the Worlds, I have to ask, did this guy somehow miss, uh, the entire point of the book or am I just utterly insane?
#You're right it's not very satisfying for humanity that the invaders are foiled by a bacteria and not human action! Maybe that's the point!#Maybe it's supposed to be FRIGHTENING and make you ask questions about what humans will do under extreme stress#Not be a morally uplifting tale about Humanity Heroically Defeating the Martians in a Glorious Hollywood Ending#Maybe it's MEANT to be unsatisfying because this is not a straightforward fairytale#I mean I've only read it once and don't know much about Wells' work so I might have misunderstood the point of the book too#But at places it is a very pessimistic view of the human condition and that's partly WHY IT'S SO POWERFUL#That doesn't mean there aren't moments of individual acts of heroism (the Thunderchild for example)#But the question is not just 'how will humanity beat the Martians and prove that we're still the masters of the universe'#Rather 'a) why is humanity so confident that it's ultimately in control of its own destiny#And b) here's lots of scenes of societal collapse and of people pushed to the brink and what would YOU do in those circumstances?#Would YOU feel remorse about silencing the curate even if it did lead to his death?#What if it rather than a foolish adult it had been a small child?#And even if they were weak did they DESERVE it? Yes it might have been necessary but should it be policy going forward?#Would you also be attracted briefly by the certainties that the artilleryman's (rather fascist) plan seems to offer so humanity survives?#But what sort of humanity would that be if it DID survive and is it worth it? The narrator feels he needs to justify the curate's death#The artilleryman would have probably never have thought it was anything OTHER than justifiable or indeed laudable#Under strain and stress would you start to turn against even your loved ones and become brutal?#Is that the only hope for human survival beyond complete surrender? And was the destruction of London maybe even 'cleansing'#In the eugenics sense or in the sense of a natural horror of dirt and germs?#And the vast exodus of six million people fleeing headlong in panic - we might not have seen that exact phenomenon#But didn't the twentieth century subsequently go on to show us unprecedented scale of slaughter and refugee movements and communal strife?#At the end of the day what really separates humanity from other animals? And what separates us from the Martians?#It's not an uncontroversial book- it was written over a hundred years ago for goodness sake and there are questions worth asking#about the way imperialism and arguments about eugenics and population control and all sorts of other dodgy areas operated on Wells' mind#But dear God I really don't think the problem with the book is that 'Humanity didn't save the day!'#Unsatisfying ending? Yes. A FAILURE? No not in my opinion- looks like it was exactly what Wells set out to do#Humanity didn't win the war of the worlds they had a narrow escape and though it might not be martians next time#Why wouldn't disaster return in the future? Sure we've studied their flying machines and even preserved a martian in a jar#But for all our science what have we ACTUALLY learned that will enable us to avert future human catastrophes? Ethically or socially?#Alright rant over- as usual my opinion is not universal nor necessarily well-informed this take just really got my goat
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incoronazione di poppea is so funny but i cannot convince anyone else that this is the case :(
#it is inherently funny to tell seneca to **** ******* and then celebrate with a singing competition#or according to every staging ever celebrate with sodomy#it's funny that in his last moments the little people in seneca's mind palace try to get him to stop not out of sympathy for him#but because of their own sense of self preservation#literally every time another character disrespects seneca in this play i hoot and i holler
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I reblogged it earlier but I'm glad the Something Awful Forums 9/11 thread was archived because it's an incredibly important slice of internet history. For the record I think 9/11 was thousands of personal tragedies for the direct victims of the attacks but one big national farce that led to America's ongoing slide into fascism, and the nationalism and remembrance around it is a joke especially in the wake of the same amount of deaths every fucking day in the US during the height of coronavirus.
Nevertheless I think it's important that if you do not remember because you were too young or just didn't exist on Sept 11, 2001 to read the Something Awful 9/11 forums to get an idea of what the internet was like at the moment when America changed to 24 hour news cycles and renewed hyper-nationalism not seen since WWII.
This all happened before Twitter, Facebook, before Discord. Before smart phones. Before most people had cell phones. When a lot of people still had dial-up internet, even. Some people in the thread were relying on radio because internet and TV weren't keeping up.
It was a live event of internet denizens reacting to the biggest national event (and among the biggest international events) of the past 25 years. It was also a slice of what the internet was like at the turn of the millennium. Not only that, but people accurately calling out who was responsible, and what would result before the attacks even finished.
Keep in mind that the links that follow contain images of the event, lots of Islamophobia, people calling for the Middle East to be nuked, people blaming Palestine, casual racist and homophobic language (this was Something Awful after all), etc etc. They preserved the first 17 pages which spanned about 24 hours during the events. It's the origin of the "WATCH BUSH START A FUCKING WAR" screenshot.
Links under the fold. I've also annotated the pages with notes regarding the timeline and any posts of interest. Note the thread was preserved in Pacific Time even though the page says times are Eastern. That's incorrect. Post timestamps are 3 hours behind Eastern Time, which is the time zone where the attacks occurred:
Page 1 - Note the first post was edited to include images of the second attack. The thread started after the first plane hit. Second plane hitting the WTC happens here too.
Page 2 - Poster accurately calling out Bin Laden was responsible at 9:14 AM EST
Page 3 - "WATCH BUSH START A FUCKING WAR"
Page 4
Page 5 - First official acknowledgement it was a terrorist attack.
Page 6 - Pentagon hit
Page 7
Page 8
Page 9 - Commercial flights grounded by FAA (Federal Aviation Administration)
Page 10 - First mention of towers collapsing at end of page
Page 11 - More reactions to collapse of first tower. People thinking it was a bomb or yet another plane. Rumors about a fourth plane just missing the White House (these are false and predate the actual 4th plane crash by minutes)
Page 12
Page 13 - By this point there's just rampant speculation about more bombs at the WTC, the US Capitol building being hit, etc (all false). Remember this is all just people reacting to TV news and radio and the rumor mill via phone, AIM, IRC, and maybe text messages.
Page 14 - By this point internet news sites are overwhelmed
Page 15 - Second tower collapses. First acknowledgement of the fourth plane that crashed in PA.
Page 16 - There's an abrupt time jump in the threads, I think it was the result of admins pruning the activity or the SA forums going down. This page starts on 9/12 even though it is page 16. American flag signatures and ribbons start appearing.
Page 17
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current brain rot is single mom & simon who aren't dating, but he becomes a father figure for your daughter. and it's the way when its time for him to be deployed again, it's the way your daughter reacts that starts to change your feelings entirely towards him.
the morning he's set to leave, footsteps trot their way down the hallway of your house. no knock is given as a warning, the door opening as your daughter makes her way into your room to nudge you awake. except, you've been awake most of the night. your body turning onto it's side to face her figure standing at the side of your bed, faces illuminated by the faint light of the alarm clock. it's 5am and you feel like you could run a marathon, but that's due to the fact your brain hasn't shut off the past 6 hours since you got into bed.
"we promised simon we'd say goodbye," the little girls voice gently reminds you, fingers grabbing at the sweater you deemed your pajama crewneck. a delicate tug is enough for you to sit up. your own hand reaches to brush her hair back before pulling her head closer to you, a soft kiss placed at the top of her head.
"get warm clothes on, it's chilly this time of morning," you murmur, and as you stand up she's already listening to your request. your daughter slips quickly out of your room and back to hers to get warmer clothes on.
and soon enough, the two of you are holding hands as you head outside of the house and a few doors down to simon's house. the exhaust from the car visible in the cool morning air because of the car lights. simon is sat in the driver seat, door propped open as he glances to see the two of you approaching. but, your daughter quickly releases your hand at the sight of him as she runs directly towards him. no words are spoken as he pulls her in close and her face becomes buried into his abdomen.
you stand a few feet away, quietly with your arms crossed in an attempt to preserve any ounce of warmth your body has. the sight in front of you tugging at your heart - she's far too young to understand the severity of his job that would add to the sadness she has over him leaving. but you aren't. and part of you wishes you were as naïve as a child, thinking he was simply going to be away for a few months, nothing more and nothing less. but there was far more that went into all of it, and it was part of what kept you up the whole night.
"no hug from you?"
the words spoken pull you from the trance you were in. eyes that had become unfocused on the scene in front of you now refocused on simon, his body now standing out of the car as your daughter had taken the spot in the drivers seat for warmth while she waited for you two to say goodbye to each other.
"of course you get one," you quickly respond, as if thoughts weren't plaguing your mind moments ago. feet close the space between the two of you and both of your arms wrap around each other. there were plenty of quick hugs and side hugs between the two of you, but your brain counted this one as you both held each other. was it over a minute? did the lack of sleep warp your concept of time and make 3 seconds feel like a minute, or did the hug last that long?
"i'll be back for both of you," and at that point, you were sure the hug lasted longer than a minute as your body became frozen at the simple words spoken. eyes closed as your forehead rested against his chest and your hands gripped the fabric of his sweater.
"we'll be here," voice quiet and muffled into the sweater he was wearing, but he heard as his hold on you grew a little tighter seconds after the words left your mouth.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley x reader fluff#simon riley x reader#simon riley cod#cod ghost#ghost cod#nic talks ghost#simon ghost riley x reader fluff#i'm actually half asleep and delirious but i saw this photo and we know how i am with simon fluff!
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My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H
a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it
warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy
wc: 1.3k
"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."
You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.
"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor.
You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.
"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."
You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place.
You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.
"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."
The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.
"Having fun talking to yourself?"
You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."
He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.
You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"
The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.
His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.
He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back.
You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."
He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.
"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."
The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.
The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.
He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.
Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.
With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.
"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."
You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.
"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."
You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh.
"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.
Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.
Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."
You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"
Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."
He was only half-joking.
"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.
Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.
"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"
He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."
And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader#hotch#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fic#hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fluff#Spotify
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i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((
pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)
Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common.
“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately.
Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.”
“She won’t sit down.”
Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.”
“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?”
“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.”
“Then why doesn’t she stop?”
Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.”
The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly.
Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better.
“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.”
“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says.
“So?” Hotch prods gently.
Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…”
“The hates you one?” he offers.
“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.”
“Just hormones, Spence.”
Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around.
“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley.
“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.
Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults).
“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty.
“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in.
“Just the essentials.”
Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though.
“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.”
Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?”
“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.”
“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.”
“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.”
“That works?”
“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently.
“I guess I worry too much.”
“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.”
They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy.
Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time.
He finishes his paperwork a little while after.
“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying.
“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?”
He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.”
You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully.
“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.”
Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓
ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.
warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k
ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔
: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.
Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?"
That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"
: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.
: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.
: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;
"You — are absolutely breath-taking."
: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.
"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."
: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.
𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .
"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"
Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.
"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.
And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.
ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎
: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.
: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!
: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.
: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.
"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."
: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.
: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.
"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander."
"Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."
: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .
"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.
Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.
But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;
"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"
Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.
"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.
He grunted. "Same... thing."
ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀
: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.
: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!
Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands.
Will you marry me?
: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.
: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.
: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.
𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .
"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.
"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"
"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.
And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.
"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."
Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."
ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀
: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.
: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.
: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.
: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;
"There you are, my wife."
: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.
: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.
: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.
𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .
"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."
"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."
Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.
He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.
"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."
ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘
: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.
: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.
"So? Are you ready to get married?"
You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.
: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;
"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."
: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.
: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.
𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .
"Fyodor?"
"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.
"Why did you ask to marry me?"
Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.
Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."
✎ . . . requested by the lovely @cocodrilofeliz!
WRITING REQUESTS
#bungou stray dogs#bsd#bungou stray dogs fanfiction#bungou stray dogs headcanon#dazai osamu#dazai osamu x reader#dazai x reader#kunikida doppo#kunikida doppo x reader#atsushi nakajima#atsushi x reader#atsushi nakajima x reader#chuuya nakahara#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya x reader#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor x reader#bsd x reader#🎋 — writing requests#gorgeous bead dividers by pommecita!!
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Simon Riley hated photographs, but still, you begged him to take pictures together, eager to preserve the precious memories you created.
Simon, glued to his convictions, had always refused no matter how many times you begged.
But what if our memory is not enough? What if we forget what we had together?
I promise you, love. As long as I'm breathing, I'll never let that happen. Our memories will always be enough for me.
Out of respect for his wishes, you had reluctantly ceased your requests, choosing to cherish the moments you shared in the fleeting present. You got rid of all the old photos of yourself, telling yourself that if Simon didn’t need them neither did you.
Now, standing alone before your casket, Simon's regret weighed heavy on his heart like an anchor dragging him down into the depths of despair. He longed for a tangible memento of your time together, a photograph to serve as a beacon of light amidst the darkness of his grief.
But time, that relentless thief of memories, had a cruel way of distorting even the most cherished recollections.
With each passing year, the image of you grew increasingly hazy in his mind, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass. Desperate to hold onto the essence of you, Simon turned to the only medium he knew.
Drawing.
With trembling hands and a heavy heart, he painstakingly sketched your features from memory, pouring his soul into each stroke of the pencil.
But the passage of time had a way of eroding even the most vivid memories , and each attempt to capture you resulted in a different interpretation, leaving Simon haunted by the ever-shifting image of the one he loved.
#cod angst#simon x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley call of duty#simon riley#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost simon riley#ghost mw2#cod mwii#cod mw3#call of duty modern warfare#cod x reader#cod#call of duty#cod fanfic#cod modern warfare#writers#simon ghost x reader#simon riley cod#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x you#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x gn reader#simon riley x gender neutral reader#simon ghost riley mw3#simon ghost riley x reader#cod simon riley
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Ryomen Sukuna getting on his knees for his wife
Pairing: Sukuna x wife!reader
Word Count: 1,2k
Synopsis: For more than 500 years, you waited for your husband's return. When he finally shows himself again in Shibuya, he can't help but worship his wife the way she deserves it
Warnings: no smut but this is a tease y'all, language, violence, Jogo (lmao), this is just Sukuna hehe
You can’t help but smile to yourself, the intoxicating smell of death and agony filling you with nothing but joy. Oh, how much you long to finally see your husband again, to feel his arms wrapped around your body. How long has it been since you’ve last seen him? A few hundred years, maybe more. They were too keen to keep him from finding a new vessel, to come back into your open arms. But you’ve waited.
A huff escapes your lips. And now is finally the time to greet him again.
Without gifting them a single look, you walk past all those disgusting humans begging for their lives, the floor plastered in crimson. Is he responsible for this?
“Such a mess”, you mutter to yourself, a shiver of excitement running down your spine.
It has to be him, without any doubt. When you heard about his awakening, felt the fear that ran through the jujutsu community, you knew it was Sukuna. Good that brat decided to swallow his fingers you preserved so carefully for this exact moment.
You stroll into the train station of Shibuya that radiates so much unpromising energy that it’s hard to keep your cool composure. Where is he? What is he doing? Surely, he has a masterplan in his head already. But where is he?
“You.”
With a swift motion, you pin the strongest curse nearby against a wall, staring right into his widen eye.
You. Jogo has no idea who you are and where you came from. But he didn’t feel your presence until know, wasn’t even able to see you with your movements being so fast. Are you a special grade curse?
No, you have to be way above that level – way above him.
“Who are you?”
“You’re not in the position to ask questions. Where’s Sukuna?”
That threatening tone in your voice along with the sheer power you radiate. You…You…
Are you the queen of curses, Sukuna’s wife?
“I’m…I’m searching for him as well.”
It’s a miracle Jogo was able to press out a response, given the way your eyes are darted towards him. There were always rumours about your existence, that the king of curses himself has in fact a wife. But no one ever saw you, no one really believes that someone like him would fall for something pathetic like love.
“Then go ahead. I’m waiting.”
But oh he does. Your sheer presence is proof alone. His feet carry him down the hallways of Shibuya train station by themselves, the frightening sound of your sky-high heels against the floor sending shivers down his spine in waterfalls. One wrong movement, one unthoughtful word, one change of mind and he’s dead. Wiped from this earth forever with a swift motion of your little finger.
“Why are you searching for him, curse?”
Jogo swallows hard, thick fear running through his veins. What is he supposed to do? Lying? No, the chance of you knowing immediately is too high. He can’t afford your resentment.
“I would like to ask him to fight on our side.”
A cruel laughter escapes your lips before he even finished his sentence, cold eyes glaring at the back of his head.
“Listen sweetheart, Sukuna doesn’t do things like favours. But you know what? If you manage to find him, I’ll talk to him about this. After all, you’re here to kill these jujutsu sorcerers, right?”
He doesn’t reply when it hits you with full force. The stinging presence you missed so much these last decades, the unpromising change in the air. You and the curse in front of you stop in your tracks at the same time, eyes darting towards two girls who kneel on the ground.
Above a pink-haired boy, feeding him fingers.
His fingers.
Finally.
“Get away from my husband, girls. He’s already taken.”
A little movement of your fingers is enough to shoot them right into the next wall while you make your way to the puny figure leaning against the wall.
“Take care of them, curse. I need to look after my husband.”
Your usual composed heart almost beats out of your chest when you come near him, the power vibrating through his body becoming stronger and stronger every second. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for.
“Wake up, Mr. Drama. Your wife missed you”, you purr while placing your hand around his delicate neck.
Oh, the way his blood pumps through his veins, the feeling of his useless heartbeat against your tingling fingertips.
“I’m getting impatient, Sukuna.”
Your nails dig into his tender flesh until a trail of blood runs down his neck.
“So impatient…”
Suddenly, you find yourself pressed against the wall Sukuna was laying against just a moment ago, a hand wrapped around your neck.
And then you meet his eyes. The stone-cold red eyes that already caused so much pain, eyes that make every human cry out in sheer panic.
The eyes you longed for every lonely night.
“But I will forgive you. After all, I was gone for quite some time. Right, princess?”
“I’m not your princess”, you mumble against the force of his hand.
Your wrap your longing arms around his neck, pull him even closer, let him choke you even harder. Oh, you want to swallow him whole, want to feel him as close as possible. With a swift motion, you tear away the fabric that hides his upper body from your gaze.
“I’m your queen.”
Sukuna doesn’t waste another minute. His lips find yours. Longingly, passionate, so intense that you threaten to lose balance. His tongue re-discovers your mouth all over again, teeth nibbling on your lips so roughly that blood spills.
“Oh, how much I missed you”, he mumbles against your lips.
His hands roam around your body, hold your waist in place while he gets lost against your intoxicating mouth. The mouth he thought about all this time, the mouth that is capable of doing way more than talking.
“How much I longed to see you again.”
The king of curses gets on his knees, presses his head against your belly, cups your butt with his needy hands.
“Let me worship every inch of your body.”
“Just like you should for keeping me waiting”, you breathe out, a satisfied smile decorating your puffy lips.
“I will make it up to you, darling. When I’m done here, I’m all yours again”, he promises with low voice, still kneeling in front of you.
The world around you goes silent, both girls and Jogo staring at the scene in front of them in sheer disbelief. Is this the king of curses, kneeling in front of a woman and apologizing? This is absolutely impossible, almost absurd.
“You’re always mine, Sukuna”, you reply before pulling him up and getting a taste of him all over again.
“But before that, we should kill everyone around here, am I right?”
His breath caresses your cheek in sheer excitement, eyes soaking you up.
“That’s my wife.”
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru
#I'd do everything for this man#Let me get on my knees for you damn#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#sukuna jjk#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk fanworks#jujutsu kaisen shibuya arc#shibuya#jjk shibuya incident#jjk shibuya arc#shibuya incident#ryomen sukuna fluff#jjk fluff
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I know Alastor craves Wifey’s attention, but does Wifey crave his attention in the same way?
🥴
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: None?? I think???
Description: ☝️⬆️
Alastor loves having your attention but he loves it even more when you seek him out, he loves being needed by you
He tries to hide his giddiness though, he can't be caught grinning like a fool because his wife wants a hug from him
He has a reputation to uphold
He's in his radio tower and you suddenly sit yourself in his lap mid broadcast? He's wrapping an arm around you and kissing your head while you bury your face in his neck
He cuts out the broadcast for a moment to give you the proper attention, tilting your chin up so that you look at him
"Just a moment, folks! Hello darling, stressful day?"
His claws are scratching along the back of your neck, sending a pleasant tingle down your spine as you lean against him
"Mmn... just wanna be with you..."
Suddenly you're being squeezed tight, your face smashed into his neck so you don't see the heat rising to his face over how cute you are
Anyone who might've been listening would find the screams of the broadcast suddenly interrupted by sharp crackling radio static
He's trying to get out of bed and you whine that you want him to stay?? He's going to try his hardest and resist the urge to jump back in
That is until you wrap your arms around him and press your chest to his back, rubbing your cheek on his shoulder
"Just stay in bed...we could have a lazy day..."
Alastor has to rub a hand over his face to hide his blush, his smile tight from trying not to coo over you, giving you a small kiss
"You have to get up too, my dear~ Come on, I'll make breakfast."
He stands up only to feel you hanging off of him, legs wrapping around him with determination
"No. I stay with you."
"Fine then, I'm going to get started on our day."
"I'll be right here~"
A small bleat escapes him, actual steam coming out of his ears as he helps support your legs
"Darling please! What will everyone say?"
You just close your eyes and hum, resting your head against his back as he laughs at the absurdity of the situation
"Don't care. Going back to sleep..."
Nobody dares look at you two as Alastor walks about the hotel with you strapped to his back, they all do their best to pretend like it's not happening
Except Angel who laughs as soon as Alastor walks into the lobby with a mug of coffee in hand, ears down low as he tries to hide his embarrassment
"Ha! Whipped!"
There's been plenty of times where you've just come to him wanting his affection for a moment before scampering off
You've even interrupted overlord meetings because he left without giving you a goodbye kiss, you always found an excuse to get in
One time, you even showed up with trays of food, trailing behind Rosie and Zestial, who both helped you crash the meeting and carry food
Carmilla was visibly surprised at the sight of you, doing a double take and cautiously sniffing the air
"Y/N..? What is all this..?"
You don't miss the way your husband's cheeks light up as he tries to look as innocent as possible, realizing his mistake
"Alastor forgot his lunch and I just couldn't let all of you go hungry..! I hope you don't mind~"
You brought out the big guns with the food, and none of the overlords even make a fuss about you being there
You come around to your husband's chair, hearing him audibly gulp as you lean down to kiss his temple
"Hello again, my dear-"
"You forgot to kiss me goodbye, darling~ What's a girl supposed to think when her husband won't kiss her?"
You sound so pitiful and cute, he can't help but stand up to squeeze you into a proper hug before walking you out to try and preserve some of his image
"They're just so cute, aren't they? Young love and all that~"
"...they are."
"Aren't they both like-fucking old?"
"Eat your food."
It's already gone, Alastor
"Forgive me, my dear... I was in a hurry and didn't realize-"
He feels even worse when you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a sad face, resting against him
"You owe me...at least 12 kisses and not little ones!"
He's fumbling to find the words to say, using one hand to push away your kissy lips while he looks away from you
He knows he looks so whipped right now-he needs a moment to compose himself
Once he's able to look at you again, he knows it's all over, a soft blush on his face as you kiss his palm and stare at him
"Darling..."
"I just want some attention from my husband, is that so bad?"
He can't deny you anything, leaning in to give you a soft kiss and rubbing your cheek, you nearly kill him when he pulls away and sees your lovesick expression
"I'll be home soon, I promise. You'll get all of my time and attention after that, deal?"
You close your eyes and nuzzle against his hand, practically hugging his arm to keep him there
"Mm...making deals with a man like you is dangerous, what do you want in return?"
Alastor can't help but grin, pulling you in closer for another kiss and stopping just before your lips touch
"I've already got an adorable wife~ Buuuut~ If you're offering something then maybe we go out dancing later?"
He kisses you before you can answer, pressing his forehead to yours as he smiles at you
"It's a deal then~"
Reluctantly, he lets you walk away after giving you a few more kisses only to realize later that you got exactly what you wanted
When he walks back into the meeting, everyone's eyes are on him before they suddenly look down at their meals
"What?"
Carmilla coughs awkwardly and Rosie pushes a mirror towards Alastor, who discovers his face is covered in lipstick marks
He can't even bring himself to be mad, sighing fondly as he takes a napkin from Carmilla and wipes his face off
What is he going to do with you...
I hope you like this one!!
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin x reader
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