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#lord forgive me for my stupidity
z00mbi3sstuff · 5 months
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Late night swim
---<3---<3---<3---<3---
So I've been thinking of writing a fanfic since yesterday, and I need to get rid of that urge. So here is this absolute abomination.
And don't even think about asking why I wrote this absolutely broken mess.
I made this because I was feeling horny for some reason
Also, please check out the official @linkeduniverse blog so you can understand this better. And it's really good!
Enough yapping.
Now let's start!
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Notes: Skinny dipping(iykyk) / friends(?) To lovers(??) / mild NSFW / no use of the term (Y/N) / Non-binary reader / reader is taller
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It's been a long night for the Chain, constantly walking and barely taking breaks while traveling through Twilight's Hyrule, but you were lucky to not run into any monsters.
Everyone has settled down in a small cave, just in case it would start to rain. Wild was handing out some bowls of freshly cooked stew with wild greens that Twi had picked for him to cook. Everyone was eating their food, either talking to each other or just minding their own business.
Then there was Legend, sitting all the way outside of their small housing. He had already finished his food and had just been sitting there. He seems like usual, but you could sense that he was feeling lonely, so you quickly ate the rest of your food and shoved the empty bowl into the nearest Links hand, which was Wind in that case. Wind and Four just looked at you with a question mark on their faces before putting your bowl down and getting back into theor own conversation.
You and Legend have never really talked to each other. He always seemed to avoid you in some way, but you decided to give it a try. You made your way over to Legend with soft steps as he glanced over at you as you were a few meters away from him. It seems like he sensed your presence. You try to say something, but no words would come out, so you stand there awkwardly as he tries to ignore you. After a while, you sigh and hesitantly sit down next to him. He soon speaks up in his usual grumpy voice.
You thought he would probably start the conversation with something like: "Why are you here?" Or "Are you here to annoy me once again?", but no. You two just sat there in an awkward silence.
You take a deep breath before attempting to break the ice that has formed between the two of you.
"... So... how are you?"
Gosh. That was probably the worst thing you've ever said, and you've never been good at starting conversations, but you've never thought you would be this bad.
He gives you a questioning glare before looking out into the distance again.
"I'm fine, I guess." He answers hesitantly and glances at you again. It seems like he doesn't completely hate you, which makes you feel just a bit better.
"Do you want to do something together, maybe? We still have plenty of time." You suggest with a hopeful smile and look over to him. You can see him think for a moment before facing you.
"... Fine. What do you have in mind?"
Finally. He was finally starting to warm up to you, which gave you a nice warm feeling in your body. But now you had to think of something to do since you didn't think you would get this far.
"... And?" He asks after a moment of more silence. You forgot to answer while you were lost in your thoughts.
"Ah, uhm... how about..."
You start to look around, desperately looking for something to do. You didn't want to lose the progress you've made with him, even if its just a minor coversation.
You spot a lake behind the trees and get an idea, but before thinking first, you blurt out something that no one would've expected.
"How about Skinny dipping?"
What the hell did was that!?!? You didn't think you would be able to fall even deeper into this hell hole!
Legend froze on the spot, the only thing heating up being his soft cheeks, which are now tinted a soft red.
You two stare at each other awkwardly for a moment, both stunned by what has just been said seconds ago.
"I-I mean–"
I stutter before I look away out of pure embarrassment. Legend just stares at you in disbelief, not knowing what to say. He turns away and takes a deep breath.
"We... we can go down to the lake..."
He mumbles as he tries to ignore what just happened. You look back at him in surprise, but start to form a soft smile on your face.
"That sounds good. Let's go."
You suggested and stood up from the dry grass before hedids the same. You started to lead the way as you two fall silent yet again.
The two of you soon arrive at the lake you spotted earlier. It was rather small, but looked beautiful with the blooming lilipads floating at the edges of the lake.
You beam a smile as you eagerly run towards the lake with Legend in tow.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
He asked out of confusion as he saw you in front of the lake, taking off your footwear and rolling up both of the pant legs, making his cheeks flush just a little.
"I'm not gonna go to a lake just to sit there and do nothing!" You respond happily, feeling some new energy arrive before you walk into the cold water. It felt nice to finally let your feet breathe after hours and hours of walking. You turn around and look over at Legend.
"Come on! I didn't bring you here for nothing!" It seems like the refreshing water has boosted your spirits.
Legend slowly starts to approach you and gets as close as he can get without getting his shoes wet.
"Theres nothing in there, right?"
He asks cautiously as he eyes you from top to bottom, wondering how you can enjoy yourself this much because of some lake water.
"Im pretty sure its safe. Come on!" You wave off his concern quickly and look away awkwardly before you add "And also.. what I said earlier... I didn't actually mean that. I just spoke before thinking..."
You state in a more quiet tone and look back at him, still feeling embarrassed.
You hear him sigh before speaking firmly.
"It was quite the surprise, but it wasn't the end of the world, you know."
He speaks with his teasing yet pleasant undertone, giving you this strange but also somewhat comforting feeling all over again. It felt like your stomach was doing cartwheels, but you can't quite put your finger on it.
While zoning out with your own thoughts, you didn't seem to notice him joining you in the water, now standing next to you with the water almost reaching his knees.
You snap your head in his direction after noticing him. The close proximity sends both of you good shivers down your spine. You were only standing next to each other, yet it felt like you two were sharing a blanket this whole time.
Legend comes back to his senses first and clears his throat, making you snap back to reality.
"So? What now?" The Link next to you asks with one of his eyebrows slightly raised, his hip cocked out to the side in his usual manner.
"Uhm... I don't want to make this situation even weirder, but... How about we swim for a little?"
"In our clothes?"
His question sets you back a little. You clearly did not think this through.
"Uhm... Your choice..." You blurted out, scared what his reaction might be.
You nervously looked back at his face and noticd the cormer of his lips quiver, holding back his signature smirk. You knew that this meant that something was about to happen that would have a great impact on the both of you.
But before you knew it, he had walked back to the shore, starting to strip down all of his clothes while his back was facing you. He was definitely doing this on purpose, but you couldn't budge. It was like you're in a trance, hypnotized by his slim but oh so gorgeous body. You let your gaze travel all over his body, the nerves in your hands tingling as if you were touching his oh so delicate but well trained body. It was starting to feel arousing just by watching him.
After a few minutes of silence with the longing feeling of being near him growing, he turns around and faces you. You look up at his face, just his face. Nothing else. It took all of your strength to keep eye contact. You didn't want to look like a complete pervert.
You gulp before making your way to the shore, your gaze purely focused on the wet soil beneath your feet. You can feel Legend's seductive gaze burning into you with every step you take.
You slowly start to take off your own clothes. Not even the demon king himself in all his glory could get you to look at him.
After just a few minutes, you feel the cold air hitting every part of your now exposed body.
You hesitantly turn to face Legend, trying my hardest not to look. You can see Legend doing the same. His face was bright red with the tips of his pointy ears a rosy pink as he was trying his best not to look down.
You decide to take a deep breath before making the first step, which means slowly walking into the water. You've already gone as far as undressing right next to each other, so there's no turning back now. This shouldn't be to hard, right?
Legend soon follows you, admiring your form from behind, not being able to keep his eyes off of you, especially your arse he's definetly an ass man, even though he really doesn't want to seem like a complete asshole haha get it?
Soon enough, both of your bodies are submerged in the water, giving you that relaxing feeling yet again, but you still find yourself being very cautious of what you're doing. You don't want to embarrass yourself in front of him again, do you?
You smile a little as you look at him, trying to make this situation less awkward. To your surprise, he flashes back a small smile that made your heart melt, even in the chilling cold water.
"... Is this too weird?"
You ask as you try to start a conversation in this dead silence.
"... It's good."
"Good? Really?"
"Yeah."
You were surprised at how calm Legend actually was in this situation. You didn't even think that he would ever like Skinny dipping with someone. It was quite the experience.
The two of you eventually got into a nice and lively conversation. It was nice talking to Legend like this, seeing his adorable and slightly crooked smile, the way he holds himself when standing, and so much more. It seemed like Legend was moving closer and closer to you while the conversation was still going.
After some time, he was standing right in front of you, his perfect body right before your very eyes, invading your personal space bubble, but you didn't care as long as it's him.
The conversation suddenly stops as both of you look into each other eyes, just zoning out as the two of you stare at each other. It felt like all the other sounds were being drowned out, only hearing each others breathing.
You were so hypnotized by each other, leaning closer... and closer... and closer–
Someone suddenly yelled out to the both of you, which made you and Legend look up, only to see Twilight calling you and Legend from near the shore with his lively southern accent.
"Come on ya' two love birds! Enough bein' horny and get to camp! Dinners ready!"
Twilight yells out and chuckles a little. He always knew that there was something going to happen between you two just by seeing how you would look at each other without ever even having a proper conversation.
Both of you look away out of embarrassment until Twilight dissappears into the woods again. You turn back to Legend and get all your courage together before giving him a peck on his cheek before scurrying out of the water, like it's boiling hot.
Legend watches you run out of the water, his dominant hand resting on his still warm cheek from your kiss, compeltely stunned.
He quickly ran after you after coming back to his senses but still tries not to look like he already misses your attention.
The both of you quickly throw your clothes on and hurry back to the others.
Both of you barely talked while on your way back. Just before exiting the woods to reach the small camp the Chain has made, Legend unexpectedly turns to you and returns the favor, kissing you on the cheek before running to his sleeping bag with his now iconic red face.
All of the other Links stare at him and then you with a cocky smirk. Looks like the wolf boy snitched on the both of you.
---<3---<3---<3---<3---<3---<3---<3---<3----
I'm finally done! And all in one day! My first fanfiction I've ever written, and that with my favorite character too! 🥳🥳🥳
And if you're reading this, please don't ask how I came up with this. I have not a clue what horny demon possessed me to make this.
I hope this wasn't too cringe to read. Have a good day/night! <3
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number1wah · 1 year
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ok so like, obviously Nina and Maggie are basically human versions on Crowley and Aziraphale right?? Right. And one wonderful example of that is when Crowley is about to lead everyone out of the bookshop, and Maggie (who has no idea what is going on but knows, knows, that whatever it is is dangerous), decides to stay. She wants to help. And she doesn't want Aziraphale to be on his own. Because she is brave. And because she stays, Nina (who was about to run away leave), also stays. (She's also just so curious about what's happening which is very familiar)
Aziraphale staying (to stop the apocalypse or in the book shop or on earth or in heaven) is him being brave. He's choosing to meet things head on. He's choosing to try and change the outcome. And because of that Crowley also stays.
But they're both idiots and Crowley doesn't understand that Aziraphale leaving for Heaven isn't actually him leaving it's Aziraphel choosing to stay and try and do good.
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Okay stream over and as such no one is safe anymore from my RGGJoposting (sorry in advance), HOWEVER I did want to say...
Of course Mine Himself At Present is the furthest thing from punk, but I believe the reason he has that belt is a nod to Nakamura, who is credited with bringing punk influences to the kabuki scene. (This particular photo was taken years after Y3, but...)
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By the way, Nakamura is how I found out there's a lot of stigma against sons of kabuki actors who choose to play roles of a different gender than their fathers. He comes from an established line of onnagata, so it was a big deal for him to choose to play male roles.
Arakawa was a taishu engeki actor rather than a kabuki actor, which is less steeped in tradition than kabuki, so I don't know if it would've been the same for him doing the opposite to Nakamura. But it's Neat to think of it as a concerted choice for him in terms of feeling that strong of a connection to femininity.
oh fuck yeah punk in the kabuki world WORD UP TO THE LEGEND.....
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cyberdragoninfinity · 2 years
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i keep forgetting i made this image
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deadrlngers · 2 years
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i think the Thing that makes vhanya's tragedy so..tragic to me is her youth. but not in a 'omg dying young, she had so much to live :(' which is. well rip to her. but more like every single mistake she does is in a way..normal. like mistakes you do when you're a teen and are sooo dumb but make you learn and they shouldn't weight too much or more like. they shouldn't have you pay a too expensive price. while vhanya's mistakes aren't looked at with kindness, there's no Understanding. she walks around with her rage and tears like she's screaming "i'm still learning!! don't i deserve some kindness?" and instead of a "it's okay that you fucked up, we can fix this" it's mistakes that shape forever her future without any way to rewind and idk it gets me </3
#rena.txt#like does she fuck up? YEA. the betrayal and the mistakes that come from a first love and shit and stuff. like yea she takes.. questionable#choices and her behaviour isn't the best at times but lord doesn't she deserve a bit of understanding? she's angry and angry and ANGRY at#her mother that (in her opinion) looks down on her and doesn't love her and probably vhanya thinks ari considers her as her greatest#disappointment. and that's when the rage takes control and she screams and threatens and all of that shit but then sadness settles and#she's falling down and asking her mother to please forgive her. like SHE'S LEARNING SHE MAKES STUPID SHIT. WELL YEA WHO HASN'T DONE STUPID#SHIT AS A TEEN!! and then belonging. god she only ever wanted to belong somewhere but she always ended up being estranged? not a black not#a green not her mother's side not her family. she tries to find her place in a world where she feels like isn't made for her. which is why#when aemond dies </3 she's just like. i thought i found a place but to follow this idea i lost everything else and now that i lost that#Only one thing there's nothing else to live for. as if ari wouldnt welcome back her daughter after whatever stupid shit she would do GIRL!!#AND LIKE THE IDEA ITSELF that she convinced herself that was her Place finally. a first love. dumb and stupid the kind of probably doesn't#last but you remember it and she's like THAT'S EVERYTHING i will ever have in life and now that is gone it makes no sense to be alive.#there's only emptiness. brrr IDK I'M LOSING IT. SHE'S DUMB BUT ALSO SHE HAS THE RIGHT TO BE. ME @ ME: U CATCH MY DRIFT#in the words of my bestest bestie moravia who wrote about alienation in a way that spoke to me through my whole teen years: 'desire for#normality; a longing to adapt to some recognized and general rule; a wish to be like everyone else from the moment that being different#meant being guilty.' FUCKING DEAD ON THIS SUNDAY MORNING
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Remember when people on here kept saying the idea that no one should be forgiven for doing terrible things is Christian. Like obviously I get it guys but Christians love the idea of forgiving people for doing horrible evil things. They love it. Its like a whole thing.
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littleragondin · 2 years
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#i just had to read with my own eyes#'What makes me hesitate to call it rape though is the fact that Xing Si never tells him no'#like i'm not even going to go into the importance of enthusiastic consent and why not saying no just isnt enough#but dude was absolutely smashed drunk could barely stand on his feet#clearly couldn't process what was happening (he literally asks Yong Jie to confirm it's him!)#in what world could he make a decision on anything?#and then to go on and say he is stupid because#'I just can't believe he doesn't know what the younger one is doing'#like?????#it's his dì! his family! of course he trusts him and doesn't think he's getting him drunk on purpose??#like even if you wanted to say that accepting drinks meant you were both aware and down to fuck w/ the buyer#(which is already bullshit)#it's his stepbrother! I'm sorry I don't think not immediately going 'oh yeah he's trying to get in my bed' is being an idiot!#like yeah sure disagree with the narrative choices of how Xing Si blames himself and how he is forgiving Yong Jie#and that it's obvious they will end together#but frankly? I think so far that with what we're shown and told of Xing Si and his relationship to himself and Yong Jie#a lot of his reactions and choices are not that illogical (tho again i wish they were different)#and they certainly do not make him pathetic or responsible for what happened to him LORD#anyway it's not a very good series and i'm not sure it deserves me getting my hackles raised like that#but Xing Si is actually such a sweet character who goes through SHIT#and I hate to see it painted as him being pathetic or responsible of what he's been victim of#like get a grip ppl#(not gonna tag it bc it's from > 1year old comments and i don't want to attract any attention or anything)#(but i needed to vent so here we go)
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anlxcqrd · 2 months
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒.
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sypnosis: telling the jjk men that you want a kiss after an argument.
contains: fluff, crack, suggestive, etc.
featuring: gojo, sukuna & megumi.
warning: suggestive content are present in the following. read at your own risk. (Just fluff for megumi since he's underaged)
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GOJO SATORU
Satoru's back was facing you as he scrolls through his phone in your shared bed. You can tell he was getting tired of arguing and needed some space but you just couldn't leave him alone. You weren't gonna end the day with a heavy heart. You were determined to cheer him up.
So you gathered enough balls to say this. You sit up and turned to his back that was still unfortunately facing you. Leaning in a bit and clearing your throat, "I want a kiss." You say loud and clear. He shifts his position and looks at you with a small frown. "Are you serious?" He says sighing before putting his phone on the bedside table before sitting up.
It was rare for Satoru to get mad, it's more common for him to make you mad than the opposite and he's scary when he is. So it's quite stupid to think a kiss could make him crack a smile but you were determined to make his anger disappear. You lean in until your face were only inches away from touching. His big hand comes to touch your cheek. "You're so beautiful," he muttered, his thumb touching your lower lip before continuing. "Yet so annoying."
You were about to apologize when he crashes his lips onto yours dragging out a muffled gasp out of you. He was letting out his bottled up frustration and aggravation into the kiss, hands moving down to your clothed tits before cupping them and fondling them with a hint of roughness in his movements enough to male you moan into the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to you as this kiss turns into a heated make out session.
A few moments later, you break the kiss panting before speaking in a breathy voice, "I'm sorry for being childish today, Satoru." You look at him with a saddened look and he pulls you onto his lap and says, "you could make it up to me by showing me how sorry you are." He finally smiles, pressing a soft peck onto your lips.
RYOMEN SUKUNA
You fucked up. He's mad. I mean he's always mad but it feels like you just made the fire worse. Instead of keeping it burning, it bursted into a wildfire.
You follow him into his chambers but before you could enter, he slams the sliding door so hard the impact echoed throughout the estate even enough to startle a servant making them drop a basket of garments.
You slide the door open and sit across him. You knew acting apologetic wasn't gonna fix this so you were gonna do the opposite. Being all smug about it "I want a kiss" he shoots a glare your way making your back stiffen. You clear your throat, "I meant, oh dear lord Sukuna please press your plump—" He groans and gestures you to come closer, and you follow his orders.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Don't act like that. It doesn't suit you. It's annoying." He explains brushing a stand of hair behind your ear. "If you were someone else, I would've murdered them on the spot."
You gulped, feeling thankful for your privileges. "So can i get a kiss or not?" You ask, this time you really wanted to kiss him. Not just to cool his anger down but show him some affection as an apology for earlier's incident. He cups your chin, squeeshing your cheeks a bit before he presses a kiss to your neglected lips. Immediately, you kiss him back, sitting on his lap, you tangle your tongue with his and you slowly grind against his hardness.
"You're gonna beg for my forgiveness, got it? Clearly you've been having fun with your privileges lately."
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
Commonly in some couples, when they get into a disagreement, they will feel petty about it, one example is not cooking for the other, but Megumi is the opposite of that. He will cook for you after regardless. Even if you commit a crime, murder somebody, it's confusing to you and it makes you feel shitty.
The guy you were calling harsh names earlier, will still take care of you no matter what you do. Now here he is, serving you dinner in bed because you refused to leave the bedroom. Before he could walk to the door you hold his wrist "Megumi?"
"Yeah?"
"I want a kiss." He looks at you a bit caught off guard by your sudden confession but recovers quickly. "I thought you didn't want to see my face?" He asks and it makes the guilt hungrier. It's devouring you. "I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I let my emotions get the best of me." You intertwine your fingers with his.
He squeezes your hand as a tender gesture before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then leaning down to capture your lips into a passionate kiss. You kiss him back, your hand running through his black locks. "I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry." You whisper between kisses.
"It's alright. Can i eat with you here?" He asks and you can tell he was hesitant. You pat the space beside you. "Yeah come on."
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infizero · 9 months
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also having now actually seen the whole thing adventure time has skyrocketed into one of my favorite shows ever. like for real i liked it as a kid and have always had a fondness for it ever since but rewatching it now has made me realize Just how fucking good it is and how unlike anything else it is. its so good and appeals to ME specifically in so many ways please for the love of god if you haven't watched adventure time WATCH IT. WATCH IT RIGHT NOW
#ALSO. i think i may have mentioned this before but i really do think AT has one of the best senses of worldbuilding and continuity#i've seen in a cartoon. other than like steven universe maybe (gee i wonder how that happened)#but seriously like the fact that its able to be so goofy and weird a lot of the time while still constantly keeping in mind all these thing#and having them inform the story and world in realistic ways is so good it has really blown my mind#nothing is ever retconned nothing is ever forgotten about. even the seemingly most meaningless things will still be remembered#and referenced by the characters because thats how people are!! they dont just have stuff happen to and around them and then never#bring it up again!! but they also dont constantly go ''remember when we did xyz?'' stuff just comes up naturally if it makes sense#for it to do so. and i think thats so fucking incredible and admirable#AT's flavor of weirdness and comedy and raw emotion is something so wonderful and perfectly aligned with how i like my stories#and it really does have a vibe that is unlike anything else. i am going to cry thinking about it#like the closest thing i can think of. and lord forgive me but im being genuine in terms of vibes closest thing i can think of that#i've experienced at least is dsmp. in the way that there are things that are so fucking dumb and strange and things that are so gut#wrenchingly emotional and beautiful and simple and often those things are intertwined. its stupid and weird and funny and sad#its silly its dark its fun its tragic#something about both of them just feels like a representation of the human spirit in its purest form to me. they impact me the most#because they represent all sides and experiences of existing#idk. but ive always felt like this even before i got into AT again. i said a while ago if dsmp was made into a show it would HAVE to#be an adventure time style cartoon. and every time i see fanart drawn in the AT style or whatever it makes me so happy even now#ANYWAYS. sorry to derail but i really have missed the vibes of the dsmp and in a weird way AT felt a lot similar and i really love that#FUCKKKK not me getting emotional over the indominable human spirit. im gonna go saw my legs off BYE I LOVE ADVENTURE TIME#serena.txt
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chuluoyi · 3 months
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 05:56 P.M 」
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this has been rotting in my drafts for like months :'D based on a suggestion idea a while back—how gojo will definitely land himself in a police station, and since i have no better fic to share yet, i'll just post this :')
a part of gojo's love entries
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everyone—or particularly, nanami—has warned you that marrying gojo satoru is going to be far from easy.
and true, less than a month since the two of you were married, he had landed himself in a police station. police station! of all places!
still, you were worried when you got the call, but when you rushed inside the place, all your worries—
“i’m telling you! i’m innocent!”
“sir, please don’t raise your voice here!”
“YOU are raising your voice against me!”
—evaporated. because… what the hell?
satoru, looking cross as if he owned the whole precinct, sat with his legs crossed high. he wore all black and his eyes was covered by that stupid blindfold. and with that haughty attitude, if someone accused him of being a suspicious person, now you would totally understand.
you were fuming as you stomped to where he was. “satoru!”
“oh?!” he turned to you with a wide grin, then to the officer in front of him, pointing at you. “look! i’ve been telling you. i have a wife— and there she is!”
the officer eyed you suspiciously as if he wanted to confirm your identity, and you huffed. “it pains me to admit that i’m his wife—”
“wha?! it ‘pains’ you?! i’m hurt!”
“—but yes, i am. officer, what do i have to do to get him out here?”
you could’ve sworn the officer gave you a look of pity. “ma’am, so we received a report that your… err, husband, was publicly harassing two students—”
you widened your eyes, turning to him accusingly. “you—!”
“i was not!” satoru fiercely interrupted, eyeing the police with clear disdain. “if i want to harass girls, shouldn’t i harass my wife first?!”
you were speechless as you shot him a look of disbelief.
“but sir, the girls said that you have been ‘leering’ at them—”
“i was just passing by! i didn’t even look at them! and when i have a wife this hot—” satoru wildly gestured at you with both hands. “what use is anything else?!”
dear lord. please give me strength. you felt like losing your head over this as you clutched your temple.
“sir, you’re being too loud!”
“i’m telling you, you’re slandering me! that’s crime too!”
this was utter chaos and you finally had enough. “both of you, just...” you breathed out— “shut up!”
both the police and your husband looked at you in surprise as you glared at them with so much ire they would have never expected out of you.
in the end, to settle this fiasco, you ended up paying the fine.
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“wifey... forgive me, please?”
satoru dejectedly followed you from behind like a sad puppy as you entered your home. “please? don’t be mad at me...”
you suddenly stopped in your tracks, before whirling to face him, squinting one eye. “you got arrested, made a fool out of yourself, and i bailed you out. so, give me three good reasons why i shouldn’t be mad at you.”
“uh, w-wait...”
“three, two—”
“i-i’m a good kisser! i let you have my body!” he blurted in panic. “and oh—while at it, i also satisfy you sooo well in bed!”
how did you end up with a clown for a husband? despite yourself, you almost laughed at his response, and satoru obviously saw it as a sign of him succeeding. and before you knew it, he leaned and pecked you in the lips.
“look at you, you just smiled!” he giddily grinned as he pulled away. “i’m right, aren’t i!?”
“ha ha...” you let out an exasperated sigh, suppressing your laugh and faint heat in your face at the same time. “satoru...”
his eyes were practically shining. “yes?!”
“you and couch. tonight.”
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ribbonzregretz · 1 year
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need to start usin the ocean flag in like 20 million more things, its such a pretty flag
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hxzbinwrites · 8 months
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Hey!! Saw that u were taking request <3 I was thinking that an Alestor x wife!reader being a power (but absolutely terrifying) couple would be soooo cool, like maybe they already knew each other from when they were humans, and Alestor is just 10000% a simp for his wifey lol. Hope u like it!
Alastor x Wife! Overlord! Reader | Forgiveness |
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Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Death, Killing, Mentions of Alastor being a Cannibal, Reader makes STUPID DECISIONS
In the Pride Ring is where all of the sinners and Overlords alike mingle. The uppermost ring of Hell and the closest to Heaven. That’s where some of the most feared and powerful beings live. Two of those entities being Alastor, the Radio Demon, and (Y/n), the Jazz Demon.
Together, they rule their districts with an iron grip. While some Overlords team up, like the Vees, Alastor and (Y/n) were the first to do it. Well, it makes sense really, especially because they were close during their respective times alive on Earth.
——————
Three gunshots were heard that fateful night. One ending a mans life by his hand, one ending the witness’s life by his hand, and one ending his by justice’s hand. No more Bayou Killer, but he took two more lives before he went. Awful, sick man. Good thing he’s in Hell now…
Alastor hissed as his back hit the pavement. His squinted eyes took in his surroundings, he was in Hell. Hmm, no shocker there. What was a shock was seeing the body next to his.
“Ugghh” They groaned, sitting upright on the pavement next to him. They locked eyes. It was (Y/n). Before Alastor could even speak, she pounced on him, pushing him back into the pavement.
“You sick son of a BITCH!! YOU KILLED ME!! SHOT ME LIKE I WAS AN ANIMAL FOR YA NEXT MEAL!!” She yelled, shaking him back and forth by gripping his collar. His collar looked identical to hers, and he tuned out her yelling, he noticed her attire. She was now wearing a black suit with red and white accents, one that looked like a reverse image of his. Except a few details weren’t the same, hers looked more feminine, but also had less harsh edges to it. She looked more elegant while he looked more harsh.
He then looked up to her face, she had red eyes and long, silky black hair, with red underneath. He looked to the top of her head and noticed two fluffy, black ears. They were currently pressed to her scalp, a clear indicator of her unhappiness at the current moment.
“AND TO THINK, AFTER ALL OF THAT BEGGIN, YOU WAS JUST DYING TO GET ME ON YOUR RADIO SHOW!! WELL LOOK AT US NOW, MR. ALASTOR. LOOK. AT. US. NOW. WHAT EVEN ARE YOU, YOU SICK FREAK. EVERYONE KNEW THE BAYOU KILLER ATE FOLKS. IF YOU WERENT SHOT, WERE YOU GONNA EAT ME?? WAS I GONNA NOT EVEN BE ABLE TO HAVE A BURIAL NEXT TO MY PA, CAUSE YOU ATE ME!? OH LORD HELP ME!!”
Alastor rolled his eyes, feeling no remorse for the doe that whined above him. (Y/n) was a famous musician in Louisiana, particularly in Jazz. Alastor had begged her to come onto his radio show, play some tunes for his devoted fans. She agreed, but that night Alastor didn’t show to the studio. She heard shouting in the woods across the street from the building, stupidly she went to investigate. She saw the oh so famous radio host, and with a bang of a shotgun the other man was dead. Probably in Heaven now. Trying to stay silent, (Y/n) tried to back away before a branch snapped, like a doe her eyes widened before she darted away, only to be shot right in the heart and drop down to the ground. She heard another shot faintly in the distance before she felt the wind brush past her as she fell.
“My dear, I apologize.” Alastor said, gently grabbing (Y/n)‘s hand. “It was never my intention to make you my target. I knew that if word got out about my….hobbies….that my reputation would be ruined. No more radio show.”
“You can apologize for the rest of eternity” She scowled, smacking his hand away before standing up,” You’re a MONSTER. Leave me ALONE. Hopefully someone down here will be nice, but I’m not taking no help from you”. (Y/n) finally walked away, leaving a very annoyed Alastor sitting there.
———————
About 20 years later
Alastor was a feared Overlord now, rising the ranks out of seemingly nowhere. Even with this newfound power and respect, (Y/n) still wanted nothing to do with him. She was famous in her own way. Music was not very abundant in Hell, and she profited off of that. She had little to no competition in the music industry. Becoming an icon of Hell, her name was in everyone’s mouth, making Alastor yesterday’s news, which irked him to no end.
‘I need her.’ Alastor initially thought,’ with someone as influential as her now, having her on my side will make my power increase tenfold.’ But after many times of asking over the years, he just yearned for her admiration. Not only to be on his side, but by his side. He didn’t know where the newfound obsession came from, but Alastor knew he wouldn’t stop until he brought her to him.
Alastor made his way to her huge studio, basically a small turf at this point. Without ever fighting, she’d managed to become a little bit of an Overlord, just not to the extent she could be called one. He made his way up to her penthouse, knowing the way by heart since this is not the first time he’s made a visit for an alliance.
“What Alastor.” (Y/n) asked, not even looking up from her sheet music she was writing.
“Hello my dear!” Alastor said,”lovely to see you again! I just miss you so much darling!”
“Miss me from what?” She said, turning around to meet his eyes,” we were aquatinted when we were alive, and then you killed me. What exactly do you miss me from?”
“I just miss seeing you.” He said in a softer tone,”Please (Y/n), you must realize that your death was an accident. I was never planning to hurt you. I was never planning to do anything to you.”
(Y/n)’s head tipped down, her ears pressed to her scalp,”but you did, Alastor. You killed me.”
“My dear….” He said, getting closer slowly, like she’d dart off at any given moment, just for him to not see her ever again. “My dear, I cannot imagine the pain you’ve gone through. I know it’s been a few years now, but that’s a few years you could’ve still been alive. Found a husband, had a better music career, just lived. I took that from you, and I’m…..I’m sorry.”
“I know Alastor.” She said, hugging him. Even though he hated when people touched him, she did not know this, so he internally decided to let this one time be the exception. “You know I can never fully forgive you….but after all of these years, I think I can at least try to have you in my life….but if you screw up ANY, I’m gonna kill you. I don’t care if you’re an Overlord or whatever the hell you’re doing, I will kill you like you killed me.”
“Hmm, fair enough” He shrugged, breaking off the hug as he sat down in the chair across from hers.
———————
Present Day
“So hold up” Angel said, looking at the two powerful Overlords,”He literally killed you and you were like, ‘oh well, I forgive you’. What the hell (Y/n)?”
(Y/n) was a true Overlord know. Once she let Alastor back into her life, he taught her the ways of toppling Overlords. She didn’t posses near the amount of power that he had, so he did the gruesome part for her. Building her musical empire (and later on having to shoo of Vox who begged her to join his up and coming ‘Television’ idea after Alastor shot him down).
“Oh I’d hardly call it forgiving.” Alastor said,”I get constantly reminded about it every day, multiple times a day. You wonder why it took us 60 years to even get engaged.”
(Y/n) just rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Alastor smirked, looking over at his wife.
“Well, what else was I supposed to do? The man kept coming by begging me every week for TWENTY YEARS!! Lovesick puppy if you ask me.”
Charlie squealed, hugging onto Vaggie. “Look Vaggie! That could be us one day!!”
“I hope not” Vaggie said,” A freaky cannibalistic overlord and his delusional companion. I’m fine with staying as us.”
“No Vaggie! I meant married! Wouldn’t that be fun!! Married for a long time!! Forever!!”
While Charlie was helping Vaggie stop short circuiting, (Y/n) and Alastor just looked at one another with a knowing glance. Alastor took her hand and kissed her knuckles, smiling up at her.
“Thank you again my dear, for letting me back into your life. I’m eternally sorry for what I did.”
“I know you are Alastor, plus I’d be dead already now regardless.” (Y/n) giggled,”I still don’t know what overcame me that day. I mean, who lets someone back into their life after doing that!! I am glad I did though. It’s like you said in that apology, I have a husband, I have a huge music career, but I’m not living, technically, but it feels like it!!”
Alastor chuckled,”that’s right, my precious doe. Now, I am off to go grab lunch for the both of us! If you excuse me, I shall make a trip down to the Cannibal District, and then over to the grocery store for your food!”
———————
Word Count: 1,560
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yaymiyas · 1 month
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THE HUSBAND
warning: female reader, saer being….saer, yan!isekai!crown prince
a/n: i was so burnt out so lets see what i come up with ….its short ik and yes im cooking up something w cynthia LET ME COOK 🫡🙄🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯
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the idea of divorce was swimming in the mist of your mind hours before you regained most of the movement in your body. you knew you had to get out of this situation in a peaceful but quick manner. in your mind, leaving saer should have been easy since he hated edina more than the devil himself. he saw her as a shit stain satan left on earth to torture him for all of his days. so why are tears running down his face…thats odd? from all of the tweets, forums, and blogs saer had close to no emotions for edina. he hated her through and through. in the original story, he would’ve cheered of joy if she simply asked to part ways. so why was he sitting in front of you crying? was the bacon too salty? was he remembering the good ol’ times with his late father? ever since you’ve transmigrated into this story, everything has been so weird. aside from you being close to perfectly fine after being fed poison, saer has became more careful.
in the book, saer was close to a bubbling idiot. every single assassination attempt was stopped by a maid because he was stupid. he always played it as cynthia and amanda favoring edina but that wasnt the full truth. he was just too obvious with everything he was doing. you actually kind of felt back for the dummy, no wonder gracie wants nothing to do with him. regardless of any of that, you actually started to feel a bit bad for him. it was obvious saer didnt know why he was crying or how to stop it by the way his face was balled up in red confusion. maybe it was out of guilt or for the plot, either way you wanted to help him. maybe he wanted to kill you but seeing a grown man cry really did break your heart.
“now, saer..”
gently pushing your hand out to cover his larger ones, you put on a voice of concern. you want to help the poor idiot but you also want to get out of this house alive. maybe playing the sweet docile wife could do you some good, maybe—
“ugh, stupid bitch get off of me.”
slapping your hand off of his, saer attempted to keep a face of pure disgust plastered for you to see. why on earth was he crying, and why on earth are you being so off-putting? at first, your new actions didnt really bother him. were they different? yes, but they weren’t unpleasant. but now...it was as if the poison made you utterly indifferent to his presence, which he told himself he loved, but the lord knows thats a lie. you quietly sitting there, dry-face, with a slight frown and uninterested body language, angered him. saer was crying purely for reactions. he thought that crying would help him close this conversation and make you jump up and beg for his forgiveness, but no. all you did was lift your grimly, beastly fingers to ‘comfort’ him. what a joke of a woman.
“im finished with my breakfast”
the scream of the chair was louder than your own thoughts, kicking you out of your own subconscious. what even was that about? you were TRYING to be the version of edina you thought he would like, second from you killing yourself right there and then. so why was he acting like you were trying to jump his bones? he is such a wicked man….such a sad excuse of a person. its such a shame his attitude is so sour, you were going to try to soften his walls to see if he would lighten up on the poisoning situation. how did he get it? who did he get it from?
“madam,”
lightly placing her hand on your shoulder, cynthia appeared. scaring you out of your thoughts, you straightened your back and put on the best fake smile you could. you knew cynthia didnt really care for you, as demonstrated by the bath she gave you earlier, but you thought that maybe you could melt this ice queen. her soft ginger coils shaped her face in all the right places, giving her olive skin the type of glow women in the real world would kill for. she had green eyes to match alone with it, making it easy to find yourself lost in them. cynthia was a beautiful woman; just how did she become a maid for this jackass?
“his royal highness has ordered for you to be sent to your room.”
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nereidprinc3ss · 5 months
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strange perfections
in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!
series masterlist
fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses
The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 
Stupid scarf, you think. 
Stupid door. 
Stupid wind. 
Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 
You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 
Stupid Lord Byron. 
Stupid cafe. 
Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 
One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 
Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 
Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 
Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 
Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 
As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 
It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 
Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 
“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 
“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”
The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 
“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”
You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 
Think of something normal to say!
“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”
You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.
“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”
You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?
“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”
He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 
“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”
Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?
But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 
“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”
He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 
All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 
Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 
“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 
“How did you do that?” 
His cheeks turn slightly pink. 
“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”
“How did you read that fast?”
“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”
You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 
“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”
The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 
“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”
Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 
“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”
“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 
“Does that make it better?”
“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”
You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 
“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 
“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”
“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”
He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 
He was totally in love with me. 
And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 
All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 
The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 
I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 
What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 
“Hi,” he says. 
“Hi!”
Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 
He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 
Spencer. Spencer. 
It feels important. 
“I see you’ve upgraded.”
“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”
“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”
“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 
Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 
Spence. 
Reality sets in. 
“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”
It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 
“I am a creature of habit.”
Another wave as he walks away. 
The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 
“Who was that?” 
“Uh… I don’t actually know.”
Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 
Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 
Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 
Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.
But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 
He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 
This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 
“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”
 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 
Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 
“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”
You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?
While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 
“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 
“Uh… hi?”
“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”
“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”
That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 
“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”
“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”
“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”
What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—
“Garcia!”
Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 
Adorable? Get a grip. 
“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”
“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 
You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?
“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.
“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”
“Yeah! Um, definitely!”
“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”
“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”
“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 
Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 
So that’s cool. 
You’re cool with that. 
Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 
“Hotch?”
“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 
“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 
Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 
You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 
Nah. Boys are dumb. 
You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 
It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?
But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 
He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 
Weird.
You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?
“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”
It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 
He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 
“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”
“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”
“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”
“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”
He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 
“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”
It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 
“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”
“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”
Your brow furrows and you laugh. 
“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”
“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”
You say it before you can think too hard. 
“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”
And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 
After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 
One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.
It ceases. And then it starts again. 
Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 
“Do you think you should…”
His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 
“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”
You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 
But his job is important. 
“What if you have a case?”
“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”
Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   
“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”
As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 
“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”
Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 
You balk.
“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”
“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”
“Where would this hanging out take place?”
Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 
“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”
He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 
“Restaurants.”
There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.
“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”
You look down. God, your face feels warm. 
“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”
Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 
“I would.” 
More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 
Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 
“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”
“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”
Spencer chuckles. 
“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”
Not, what?
Not, you’ve never been on a date before?
Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?
With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 
He says none of that. 
“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 
“Sounds like a good first step.”
Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 
“Will you go on a date with me?”
Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.
“I’d love to.”
He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 
“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”
His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 
“I should—”
“You definitely need to go.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”
You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 
“I don’t—”
“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”
He’s so weird. 
A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 
-
part four
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ariaste · 23 days
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So excited to announce my next book, YIELD UNDER GREAT PERSUASION, coming out on September 17th! If you've never read any of my books before, no worries--this is a standalone, so you can jump right in without any extra context. (The stunning cover art is by the amazingly talented @holographings -- go check out all his other art!)
"Alongside the sexiness and absurdity (and the sexy absurdity) in Yield Under Great Persuasion is a tender, resonant story of second and third chances and being loved when we need it most and feel we deserve it least. Evocative, emotional, and endlessly entertaining." —Jules Arbeaux, author of Lord of the Empty Isles
SUMMARY:
Tam Becket has hated Lord Lyford since they were boys. The fact that he’s also been sleeping with the man for the last ten years is irrelevant. When they were both nine years old, Lyford smashed Tam’s entry into the village’s vegetable competition. Nearly twenty years later, Tam still hasn’t forgiven the bastard. No one understands how deeply he was hurt that day, how it set a pattern of small disappointments and misfortunes that would run through the rest of his life. Now Tam has reconciled himself to the fact that love and affection are for other people, that the gods don’t care and won’t answer any of his prayers (not even the one about afflicting Lyford with a case of flesh-eating spiders to chew off his privates), and that life is inherently mundane, joyless, and drab. But then, the very last straw: Tam discovers that Lyford (of all people!) bears the divine favor of Angarat, the goddess Tam feels most betrayed and abandoned by. In his hurt and anger, Tam packs up and prepares to leave the village for good. But the journey doesn’t take him far, and Tam soon finds himself set on a quest for the most difficult of all possible prizes: Self care, forgiveness, a second chance... and somehow the unbelievably precious knowledge that there is at least one person who loves Tam for exactly who he is—and always has.
This book might be for you if:
You like enemies-to-lovers but you think it would be improved by being a one-sided situationship, and meanwhile the other person is living through a "hopelessly yearning for childhood crush" trope
you like it when two people are so, so, so stupid that they've been fucking for 10 years and Person A hasn't figured out that Person B is in love with him, and Person B hasn't realized that Person A doesn't even know about his feelings
You know how fucking hard it is to Do The Work In Therapy and you want some catharsis about it
you want to read about an imperfect, truly difficult person who still gets loved, because being perfect is not a requirement to deserve affection and care
you know that merely saying sorry for wronging someone doesn't just magically take away the bad feelings and automatically repair the relationship, and you want to read about someone having to do the extra steps that come after the apology
this one's for the wlw: fat harvest goddess milf. my gift to u
you like gods who don't have anything better to do than stick their noses into human business
when you see a gorgeous man holding an infant, it takes you out at the knees
you like queernorm fantasy AND small-town gossip, and you find the intersection of the two delicious and intriguing
a religion based on pre-Christian Brythonic England. That is, they've got henges and standing stones instead of churches and altars. it's cool
plant magic!!!!!
"god of temptation and evil"? No, actually that's the god of self-indulgence, self-care, personal boundaries, and taking responsibility for the consequences you consented to.
You can preorder it in ebook, hardback, and paperback from most retailers (with more coming soon), but if you'd like to order an autographed copy from me directly, just fill out this form! :) Signups for autographed copies close on August 31st, so hurry hurry hurry if you want to nab yours!
(Signal boosts are very much appreciated! 🙏)
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jamminvroomvroom · 8 months
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Now hear me out… Lando with a daddy kink. I rest my case (and send in my request).
heart to heart.
ln x fem!reader
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in which you’re heartbroken and lando knows exactly what you’ve always wanted.
oh, anon. how i love you. ngl haven’t written this trope much before so this was a baby-steps attempt… but it’s intense smut lmao. keep sending in requests guys, i’m getting through them (slowly)!! anyways enjoy, love you, tell me what you think <3
songs to set the mood: heart to heart by mac demarco
warnings: 18+ minors DNI!! smut, language, daddy kink (help), breeding kink (lord forgive me), friends to lovers (implied), mentions of cheating (not reader or lando), dom!lando, sub!reader
1.4k words
you’ve been friends for years.
sometimes it felt like the door was open for more, only to be quickly slammed shut when a cute barista handed you his number, or when lando slid into a bikini models dm’s. bottom line: it never ended up crossing that line and becoming more.
you’re crying on his couch when the line finally blurs.
“i just- i just thought…” you choke out a sob that cuts you off.
“what, honey?” lando coos, brushing some damp hairs away from your streaming eyes.
“i thought i’d marry him. how stupid is that?” you whimper. this is the worst breakup you’d gone through to date, and just like when anything goes wrong, lando is there with a spare shoulder for you to cry on. he always knew that your ex was a piece of shit but his warnings fell on deaf ears. “we talked about kids and houses. he asked me my fucking ring size.” you spat. all of this happened, of course, before you found out he’d been cheating on you with his boss’s assistant.
“you’re not stupid, honey.” lando pulls you in closer to his side.
you stay there for a while, letting the tears fall until there are no more left to cry and your face is drying up. your head rests on his shoulder, and when you turn it to look up at him, he’s already looking down at you.
pink lips are parted, slicked with a swipe of his tongue. two blue eyes turned to an icy grey dart between your own lustful pair and your lips, parted only to expel shallow, shaky breaths.
“kids and a nice big lawn, is that what you want?” he whispers. you shift against the couch, trying to hide the shiver the low gravelly tone of his voice shoots down your spine.
“mhm.” you nod slightly, sinking into his side and his eyes.
time speeds up for a moment; the hand he has wrapped around you finds your waist, and somehow he manoeuvres you onto his lap. it feels odd. odd, because it’s right. it’s new and yet it feels… familiar.
“why’d you waste all that time with those assholes, hm?” his voice is mocking, and your knees squeeze around his hips. “could’ve given you all that years ago. fucked a baby into you and put a nice, shiny ring on this finger.” lando pulls your ring finger between his lips, holding eye contact as he swirls his tongue around the digit. you tremble against him, his filthy words almost sending you slack against him.
“didn’t know you wanted me.” you pant.
“i’m gonna do things to you that will make sure that you never doubt me again.”
and he does.
you’re crying on his mattress, overstimulated, yet desperate for more. these are the only kind of tears he ever wants you to cry. he’s been between your legs for what feels like so long that hours could have passed and you wouldn’t question a thing. his tongue works over and over your throbbing clit and your hands rake through tangled curls.
“lando, please.” you chant, over and over again. you don’t know what you’re asking him for, but he seems to get it, because he doesn’t stop.
two fingers find your entrance, sodden with the remnants of more orgasms than you can count. in slides one, twisting deliciously before it’s joined by the second. you ascend, pretty much instantly, so overwhelmed by how good he’s managed to make you feel. your orgasm builds too quickly, and you’re dripping down his wrist before you can even tell him you’re close.
lando chuckles, tongue tracing the mess you’ve left as he shuffles on his knees between your legs. then, he’s hovering over you, balancing on one of his forearms whilst his other hand traces the curve of your body.
“having fun, honey?” he bumps his nose against yours, lips meeting yours a brief second later. it feels as good and as right the first time he kissed you earlier, and he licks into your mouth, deep and sensual. you moan into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tongue.
you can feel his cock brushing against your folds and you melt into the mattress, keening at his the feeling of him everywhere. your shaky hands skim his torso, feeling every dip and ridge under your fingertips. golden skin tenses, rippling flesh taut against your palms. your hips buck into his.
“tell me what you want, honey. need to hear you say it.”
“fuck me.” you mutter, rolling your hips once more. the angle you create means that his cock catches your folds and you can’t help but whine his name.
“how?” lando smirks, your chin trapped between his fingers. he makes you look at him, and you curse yourself for not doing this sooner.
“what you said earlier…” you choke out, trailing off.
“what did i say earlier?” he tease. you groan in frustration.
“please, lando.” you’re too hot, blush stains your cheeks and your neck.
“is my sweet girl getting shy?” he pecks your lips, kisses down your neck. when he reaches your ear, he tugs on the lobe. all you can feel is sharp teeth and warm breath. everything is slick.
“it’s okay, honey.” lando continues. “i remember. remember those wide eyes and pouty lips when i told you what i can give you. gonna make me a daddy, baby? finally gonna be mine?” he whispers, right into your ear. all you see is white.
finally.
“daddy.” you pant, when he finally slides into you, hard and deep.
“that’s it, baby.” lando grunts, hooking your thigh over his hip. you can feel the way his fingers dig in to your flesh, stopping him from falling apart instantly. his other hand takes your wrists, pushes them up the mattress until they’re pinned right above your head and he’s hovering over you, perfectly level. chest to chest, heart to heart.
shallow thrusts aid the deep grind of his hips, rolling slowly into yours. he’s everywhere, nothing separating your needy, flushed bodies. he never pulls all the way out, stays buried as deep as he can, and repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that allows you to see every star in the sky. you’re breathless, soundless, utterly helpless as you drown in him and everything he has to offer you.
you wonder if he’ll actually spill into you, mark you as his. it makes you dizzy, makes you shake, the idea of nothing stopping him from making such a mess between your spread legs. you want to beg for it but you can’t, the raging, wet pleasure in the pit of your belly rendering you speechless. all you manage is a dry plea of half of his name.
“lan-“ you begin, but he kisses the rest of the word out of his mouth.
“no, honey, that’s not my name.” he rasps, talks down to you in a way that pushes you even closer to sweet release.
“daddy. want you to be daddy.” you slur.
the reaction you get from him is worth every heartache you’ve ever suffered. his rhythm changes and now he’s slamming into you, and the sensation makes you cry some more, thick tears sliding down your neck which he tastes, licks away.
but then everything is soaking. you gush around him and his abs glisten. your throat burns from the scream, and then there’s silence, just for a moment.
“fucking hell.” he shudders, transfixed on the thin layer of you that seems to be everywhere.
he’s wrapped around you tight when he lets go, muttering unintelligible filth in your ear as he does. you stay intertwined for a moment, trying to piece together what you’d just done.
when lando eventually rolls off of you, he takes every inch of you in, a beautiful canvas covered in a memory. his eyes are warm again, soft. whatever had possessed him is long gone and he’s just lando again. your lando.
you attempt to wriggle across the mattress, seeking refuge in your forgotten pile of clothes on the floor. he stops you in your feeble attempts to peel your lifeless body off of his bed.
“hey, it’s okay, honey. let me look after you.” he coos, gentle sitting you up. “you okay?”
“thank you.” you whisper. your lips meet, fleetingly, delicate.
“‘m gonna take care of you, baby.” he promises. you believe him.
-
i don’t know what came over me lmao whoops
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taglist
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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3
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