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#normalize simple weddings
nabxtangled · 2 months
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In the era of extravagant weddings <<<<<< A simple nikkah at home 🤍✨
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lets-go-hurt-someone · 2 months
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Durge (sighing dramatically like a besotted Victorian debutante): Do you remember our first date? Why don’t you do anything romantic like that for me anymore?
Astarion: Our first date? What, when we had sex in a forest?
Durge: No, our first date, not the first time we had sex. Gods. What do you think of me? I’m not a beast.
Astarion: Darling, we have been trudging through the wilderness since the moment we met. We have literally never been on a date.
Durge: Yes we have! It was on the beach, remember? It was perfect. You were perfect!
Astarion: Do you mean when I held a knife to your throat outside the smouldering ruins of a ship full of eldritch horrors and threatened to kill you?!
Durge (all dreamy smiles and googley-eyed): Yes, it was wonderful. Almost as good as our second date, when you bit me and finally made good on your promise!
Astarion: Absolutely none of that was a—oh gods. Was leaving me behind when the crèche blew up your idea of a proposal?!
Durge: Of course dear, I didn’t want you to think I don’t return your feelings!
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spitblaze · 2 years
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To this day I dont know what trips most people's Fake Internet Story sensors, but I DO know theres a lot of people who have theirs set way too sensitive.
I saw a post on /r/outoftheloop from a history teacher asking why his students were calling him a 'goat' and like nine different comments called it fake because...the OP uses reddit??? Yeah man that's bullshit theres no way a 40-50 year old in 2022 would both know how to use a 20 year old website AND not know one (1) specific slang term. Man come on
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novococain · 9 months
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#having absolutely so many thoughts rn about maegor even outside of abo being his mother's son and this is objectively a terrible thing#bcs visenya is objectively terrible and she's hot while doing it what do you want me to do about that#but anyway. thoughts of maegor feeling violently cheated out of his birthright. not rhaena not the throne. aenys.#bcs visenya's birthright was not dragonstone it was rhaenys and aegon i and maybe not aegon i's dragonseed but he was her brother too#(orys)#and so she took that too#maegor who while aenys is heir and aenys sits the throne has CONSIDERABLY less issue with the succession and considerably MORE issue with.#aenys's marriage lol. he's like her?? a mere cousin??? not even a dragonrider?? not even a TARGARYEN?? unacceptable#he's LIVID when they wed him to ceryse instead to placate him. especially because at least rhaena would be his BLOOD jesus CHRIST#he doesn't let it stand for long tho!! either aegon i bends (he does) or he breaks (he won't) and when maegor comes to him DEMANDING#what he is owed. aegon i is like idk son. dragons aren't hounds. i can hardly tie them up and deliver them at your feet.#i.e. if your dragon refuses you not even i can help you. tame him yourself.#and that's wayyyy too much permission. maegor is VISENYA'S SON. so that's all he needs to be like bet. BET.#and boom this is how in a different world maegor did not usurp rhaena/aegon the uncrowned cause aegon is actually the fruit of his womb 🤣🤣#black magic womb!! what's a little blood sacrifice and black magic to get the mount you want. what's a lit manipulation and babytrapping#and seduction. and child-brideing. and homewrecking. and also giving birth to severely fucked up kids.#tho not as fucked up as maegor himself because they're not black magic THEMSELVES the womb that carried them is. the body that bore them is#think reneesme and bella's pregnancy. yes that. except maegor can take it even while v young because he's not entirely NORMAL.#to put it simple he's more balerion than he is aegon. he's more like a dragon than a person. constitution wise. this is not a good thing.#mind u he and alyssa v have CRAZY beef. aenys named his firstborn daughter after his mother and maegor named his firstborn aegon to show off#be like 'see? i gave you a son. aren't i better?' gloating whore. nasty asshole. tsk. serves him right that alyssa v fucks him over#he wanted to name his next kid after visenya (hence the first viserys) but he and alyssa v were pregnant at the same time#and she gave birth first. and stole his whole ass name for viserys. maegor got so livid he went into premature labor AND had to be stopped#from murdering aenys for allowing that. by aegon i himself. man had to pull out all his dad cards. still a miracle tho#terribly nyra and visenya style labor after that. three days of agony. visenya and aegon i play lion parents. vhagar is being SO loud#gives birth to a daughter—severely premature but big enough to pass for a small full term baby. she's smaller than aegon was but she's fiery#bruised by the labor but has maegor's eyes (visenya's eyes) and aenys's curly hair which is more cold than silver—like rhaenys's was#and maegor decides that if alyssa v stole his thunder for her first son then he shall steal hers for his first daughter. names her lysarra.#after alarra massey aka alyssa's mother. and then he's like NOW I'm good. moving on!! look brother a daughter 🥰 a bride for your son 🥰🥰#and meanwhile aenys is about to have a mental BREAK because maegor was only a little over halfway along and they were supposed to have TIME
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Why are the wigs so bad. W h y are all the wigs so BAD.
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ioniiaa · 2 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 14- FINALE!)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 14 (Final)
Part 14:
A few weeks had passed by the time you were fully recovered. In those weeks, the hotel was busy and bustling in preparation for the wedding.
To make sure you recovered properly, Charlie insisted that she and Vaggie be in charge of wedding planning during this time. You didn't have any objections to it, your only requirements were that it was kept low-key (meaning a small wedding with only those closest to you guys) and that it was to be a simple and short ceremony with Charlie as the officiant.
While the rest of the gang were busy going about their normal lives and helping out with some preparation here and there, Alastor had your belongings moved to his room and took care of your injuries and saw to your recovery personally.
It broke his heart to see how badly you had been injured prior to your arrival at the hotel. He also felt extremely guilty about how roughly he had treated you, accidentally making some of your injuries worse temporarily. To heal his heart and mind, he had to heal your body first.
The two of you spent so much time together, hardly ever spent a moment apart- you two had a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Often as Alastor tended to your injuries, changed your bandages, and even helped bathe you to ensure you wouldn't slip or fall as you got in and out of the tub- you two exchanged stories of all kinds. Stories from when you were both alive, your pasts when alive, and so much that had happened in the decades in Hell that had passed when the two of you were separated.
As the date of the ceremony approached, after you had mostly recovered, matters required you to leave the hotel more often.
For example, when it came to dress shopping, Alastor was very insistent that he had to come with- he was still very paranoid that if you were separated from his side that you would come to harm. Though with enough pestering- Charlie was finally able to convince him to stay at the hotel so that the wedding dress shopping party only consisted of you, Charlie, and Angel.
Shopping with the two of them was a fun memory you'll never forget, with lots of laughter because of the hilarious contrast between Charlie's wholesome comments/tearing up and Angel's teasing/cat-calling (in a loving way- of course). Though when you finally tried on the dress, even Angel had no witty comebacks to respond with, both him and Charlie were left speechless.
Angel and Charlie weren't the only ones speechless - when those who were invited to the wedding showed up the hotel, they all had their mouths gaping open at the amazing decor. They few guests assumed that the invitation they received in the mail was a prank!
(Charlie may have needed to ask some favors from Lucifer for the decorations- though he couldn't hide his disgust as to who his daughter was asking him to do this for... His distaste for Alastor was always apparent. But who are we kidding- Lucifer can't resist Charlie's puppy-dog begging eyes no matter what.)
Jovial jazz music filled the air as Alastor walked out into the main lobby, "Why hello! It is so good to see you, Rosie! ... Mimzy."
"Oh Alastor! How come ya never introduced me to ya darlin' (y/n) before!" Rosie flashed her signature smile and sauntered over to give Alastor a tight hug.
"Yeah! Geeze, Alastor, after all we've been through, you never thought to bring her over to my joint or ya know, let me know she was even down here! I've missed the gal too, ya know!" Mimzy stomped on over to Alastor, hands on her hips as she glared at him.
"Hmmmm. Ah yes, Mimzy. How could I ever forget to bring her over to your... "sophisticated"... bar where she "definitely wouldn't" be in danger?" Static noises started to interrupt the music that had started playing earlier. Alastor would be lying if he said he was happy to see Mimzy. He knew she was important to you, but part of him can't help but blame her for your early death. Not only that, but she always had a habit of bringing trouble wherever she went, forcing him to clean up her messes. He didn't trust her to keep you out of danger.
"Well! If I do say so myself, I am parched! Where can a lady quench her thirst in this joint?" Rosie piped up to break up the tension as she walked around the room and examined the decor some more. "Alastor, I really love what ya guys did to this place- stunning work, really!"
"Oh my gosh, hi, Rosie! Nice to meet you again, Mimzy! It's been so long!" Charlie seemingly burst out of nowhere and shook both Rosie and Mimzy's hands. For once Alastor was thankful for the princess's ability to not read the room.
"This way, this way! The ceremony will be held in one of the ballrooms, follow me!"
After being relieved of Rosie and Mimzy's presence, Alastor disappeared into the shadows to retreat into this radio tower where he would remain until it was time.
With Rosie and Mimzy's arrival, the last of the guests had arrived. Yup, it was a very small group- just as you had requested (much to Alastor's relief. He could easily handle people, but you knew large groups of people irritated him much more than he would let on).
Meanwhile, Angel was helping you get ready. He knew his way around makeup and beauty the best out of anyone in the hotel after all.
You sat on a stool as Angel fussed over all the little details of your hair and makeup. As he did so with remarkable speed (due to his many arms), you found yourself smiling.
Not only was it the day that you would finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor, but you found yourself smiling as you reminisced on the journey that led up to this moment- how you've come to truly cherish your newfound friendships with everyone at the hotel.
Angel, who became a very close friend to you after you two had many heart-to-hearts and shared a fondness for cracking jokes, something you discovered over many nights at the bar together. Often after you two were done at the bar, you'd have beauty/spa nights which often led to more gossip sessions- something you were never able to indulge in when you were alive. Occasionally even Cherri joined in on the gossip sessions- practically bursting the door down if she ever felt like stopping by unannounced.
Husk, was someone you could always trust him to give his honest and objective opinion on anything you asked- which you found to be invaluable whenever you showed him any of your art. Though he often didn't understand the abstract complexities you drew, it was always a great source of entertainment for you- his confusion apparent as he tried to interpret it seriously before giving up with a "Fuck it, I don't know anything about this bougie shit!" - always causing you to erupt in laughter every time without fail.
Charlie, of course, was always your ray of sunshine and was someone you very much respected. She saved your life without knowing who you were, regardless of the potential danger. You feel as if you'd never be able to repay her kindness, so you offer to stay at the hotel even after you recover and help work however you can after the wedding.
Vaggie, you felt a kindred spirit in and also respected a great deal. Someone with such an intense sense of justice and duty was truly a sight to see, you could always see it in her eyes. She was often busy, so you hadn't been able to spend as much time with her as you would have liked to so far, the few times you were able to sit down with her were always a pleasure. Whenever she needed love/relationship advice, she came to you. Funnily enough, Charlie did too, so you were flattered that the two girls liked and trusted you so much.
Even Nifty, who always made sure to dust you or pluck some random out-of-place hair whenever she saw you, stopped calling you stinky! You wondered if it was because you spent most of your time around Alastor...?
"Alright! Hehe, you look absolutely stunning if I do say so myself, doll face!" Angel stood back from you to admire his work with a huge satisfied grin on his face.
He spun you around to face the mirror that your back was previously facing, "Hey, whaddya think? One of my best works yet!"
You chuckle and lean in closer to the mirror, "Wow... Angel! Gosh... you never cease to amaze me!"
You then stand up and give Angel a hug, "Thank you... Angel... this means a lot to me..." Angel pulls back from the hug and nudges you in the shoulder, "Hey now toots, no crying on me now! We just finished your makeup, don't go ruining it now!"
"I know! I know! Haha!" You laugh and smack him back playfully.
"Ah shit, it's almost time, we gotta get a move on, come on!" Angel quickly grabs your bouquet with one hand and takes your hand wit another and leads you down what feels like a maze of corridors. He lets go of your hand when the two of you reach a set of double doors that indicates it's one of the ballrooms and not just a regular room.
Upon hearing your arrival, you see Charlie's head peek out of the door. After seeing you standing there, she quickly sneaks of the ballroom. "FIrst of all- oh my gosh (y/n)! You look BEAUTIFUL! But it's time for your entrance, lets go!" Charlie offers her arm out to you. You link your arm through her's, then you look over at Angel who hands you your bouquet, "You got this ,(y/n)." He said with a wink before slipping into the ballroom.
You took a deep breath and looked at Charlie who gave you a heartwarming nod as she took a step closer to the door, hand grasping the handle. "Ready, (y/n)?"
"I've been ready for decades."
Upon entering the small ballroom, soft jazz music filled the air and you gasped as you took a look around the stunningly decorated space. Charlie was very insistent that this be a surprise and by god, you were speechless- you never could have dreamed of a more beautiful space to finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor. You were starting to get misty-eyed already!
The very same Alastor who was now all dressed up in a new formal outfit and stood at the other end of the ballroom with his hand outstretched towards you. It took all the self-control you had to keep you from running into his arms right then and there.
Walking to the front, you pass by the small group of friends both you and Alastor had invited to this exclusive occasion. You could see Rosie clutching her hands to her chest in awe, Mimzy was trying to fight back tears as she kept dabbing her eyes (ruining her makeup in the process), and the rest of the hotel members. Angel was clinging onto Husk for dear life as you heard a quiet whisper from the spider that was accompanied by a dramatic sniffle, "Oh god I never knew I was capable of feeling so sappy."
You chuckled at the sight of Nifty, who volunteered to be your "flower girl". She was scurrying all around, scattering petals but then immediately picking them back up again like it was the best game ever!
"Oh, be still my dead-yet-beating heart" You thought to yourself as you finally reached the front of the ballroom and were able to place your hands in Alastor's. You'd never seen Alastor this dressed up before. You always thought he was attractive but oh my god, was this a whole new playfield that you didn't even know was possible!
Charlie then went to stand next to Vaggie, who were both your officiants for the wedding. A bit untraditional, sure, but this was Hell- everything's a bit unconventional here.
The music fades to a quiet level before Charlie pipes up, starting the ceremony, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate this momentous occasion with us today! Today we are here to commemorate the marriage between (y/n) and Alastor!"
"In a shocking twist of events, the last few weeks have proven us wrong that yes, even the Radio Demon, is still capable of love." This remark from Vaggie earns a few chuckles from those sitting in the guest seats, earning a glare from Alastor as he tightened his grip on your hands. You rub your thumbs over his hands in reassurance, causing his grip to relax again. You smile at Charlie and Vaggie, nodding as you signal them to continue.
Charlie cleared her throat before she continued, "Ahem! Yes! But with that, we also gained an amazing new friend here - (y/n)! And I just want to say (y/n) that I am SO proud of you, you've done nothing but bring lots of joy and laughter into this hotel. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we love you and appreciate you (y/n)! Alastor is a very lucky man and we are honored to be a part of your journey!" You could hear some applause and a holler that likely came from Angel- because you heard a scoff from Husk that followed immediately after.
"That's right, Charlie! Because we respect you both so much, we'll not delay you two love-birds from finally exchanging your vows any longer." Vaggie said as she dragged Charlie away to take a seat in the audience.
You take a deep breath and look into Alastor's eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute.
"I honestly thought I would know what to say by now! I've been dreaming of this day for decades!" You nervously laugh out loud before continuing, "All I can think about now is how thankful I am to have met you when we were alive. You gave me a spark of light and hope in the darkness that I never thought was possible in my life. Meeting you gave me the courage to break free from the cage that kept me trapped like a poor little bird who couldn't fly free. You showed me what true love should be like- even if it meant eating a few people along the way... haha. But you treasured me, you gave my life meaning again and I'll always love you. I'll always be your's, Alastor."
You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you spilled your heart out in front of so many people. Now it was Alastor's turn to reassure you with a gentle squeeze of the hands.
"My dearest (y/n), now, I am not usually one to be so 'sappy'- especially in the company of others, however, I think I can make an exception for you this one time."
Alastor took one hand, the other still holding your other hand, and gently lifted your chin back up so that your gaze would be back on him. To say that this made your heart skip a few beats would be an understatement!
"It may still shock you all, but yes, (y/n) is indeed my beloved that was taken from me all too soon back when we were alive. When I buried her body and held her in my arms for what I thought was the last time- I said these words that still ring true to this very day and will continue to do so forever more-, ' In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, (y/n)' " You feel the tears start to well up even more, threatening to burst forth at any second, all while not breaking eye contact with him as he continues on.
"I truly relish in this opportunity to finally make you mine, as I had wished to do so for what feels like an eternity. Much like you had described dear, your surprise appearance in my day-to-day life truly shook my world. Why, upon meeting you for the very first time, hearing your voice felt like it was akin to listening to most beautiful music I had ever heard- truly! As a radio host, I was very familiar with many musicians, but no instrument or vocalist ever held a candle to you my dear. No ever has and no one ever will, and I will be sure to protect you at all costs this time, ma chérie ..."
As he trailed off, your face immediately flushed red all over at Alastor's vows. But before you had time to process what was happening, Alastor manifested a new pair of rings and slid one onto your left hand, replacing the previous one. Then with a snap of the fingers, the other matching ring appeared on his left hand.
Somehow the rings were even more beautiful than the one you had before. Upon seeing the sight of both your and Alastor's hands finally wearing matching rings, you burst out into tears, overcome with emotion.
Alastor chuckles before pulling you in for a kiss- shocking everyone in the room, everyone making a collective gasp. Even your own eyes were wide open in shock, before you then relaxed into the kiss in Alastor's embrace.
It wasn't before long that the room was filled with cheers, hoots, hollers, and clapping.
Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor leaned his forehead against your's- just a brief sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You sniffle as you return the smile, chuckling at the sensation of your cheeks feeling sore from smiling so much and so intensely.
"I truly adore you with all my heart and soul, dearest. Thank you, for being the one to complete me."
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itsgwencayyye · 4 months
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Been thinking a lot about the queer rep of the qsmp and like how much i appreciate characters saying full stuff about being only into women, or liking men, or being gay in general. Like I remember distinctly during the first movie night is when it first hit me. The milk carton animatic was playing and it ends with qcellbit and qroier kissing at the wedding. And like i remember physically looking away and preparing to see one or both of them be really uncomfortable or joke about it. But they were really happy about it instead and I felt like just weird relief from it. Cause like yeah mc smp's tend to be very homoromantic, but everyones tends to be very almost prudish about wanting those relationships to be shown or go anywhere or be drawn kissing and stuff like that( At least in previous smp fandoms I've been in). Then, although it was before that moment, cellbit saying "I want to be gay and happy" although funny, it's just so nice to hear the word and have it not be a joke or not danced around cause someone's uncomfortable with it. Like the character likes men and wants to be gay and happy, simple as that. Then you have q!bagi saying that she's only interested in women, and liking melissa, but not roier, even though they're the same person. Then there's q!fit who told Ramon "I'd prefer another dad for you" and just how much knowing his backstory that being canonically a gay man adds to his characterization(i could write like a 5 page paper on that alone). And on top of it all it's the language and seriousness of all the relationships as well. Foolish and Vegetta were calling each other boyfriends, and 'my love', people go on dates and talk about what they want out of their relationship and how they're feeling about it, and like it's even normal for a lot of the couples to normalize implying or just having straight up sex (thanks for the trauma slimeriana and maxpierre/lh). Like I know I'm rambling, but, it genuinely means so much to like have the queer romance be explicitly queer and also more than just a joke. Like in ways I didn't realize at first, but it's kinda fucking awesome.
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pucksandpower · 6 months
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What Happens in Vegas
Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader
Summary: the morning after the Las Vegas Grand Prix, you wake up with one new wedding ring and zero clue about what happened … or who your husband is
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You wake up with a pounding headache, the sunlight filtering through the curtains feeling like daggers in your eyes. Groaning, you roll over and glance at the clock on the nightstand.
12:37 pm.
Far later than you would normally sleep, but given the circumstances, not entirely surprising.
The night before was the Las Vegas Grand Prix and things had gotten a little out of hand afterwards. Okay, more like a lot out of hand.
The details are fuzzy but you vaguely recall dancing on a table at some point and did someone get pushed into the hotel fountain?
Ugh. You make a mental note to apologize to whoever ended up taking an unexpected late-night swim last night.
Sitting up slowly, you rub your temples, trying to ease the jackhammer currently going off in your head. Getting blackout drunk maybe wasn’t the most professional move, but hey, what happens in Vegas and all that.
You stumble into the bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing some cold water on your face. As you reach for a towel, the glint of metal on your left hand makes you pause.
No. It can’t be.
But there it is, a simple gold band around your ring finger.
A wedding ring.
Your wedding ring, apparently.
“What the hell?” You mutter, staring at your reflection in disbelief.
You rack your brain, trying desperately to remember what happened last night. But it’s no use, the details are lost in an alcohol-induced haze.
You married someone last night. In Vegas. While ridiculously drunk.
This is bad. Really bad.
Your career, your reputation, everything is on the line here. Who knows what kind of scandal this could cause if word got out? You need to figure out who you married and do damage control, fast.
Taking a deep breath, you try to calm the rising panic. Freaking out won’t solve anything right now. You need answers and sitting here panicking won’t get you any. Time to do some investigating.
You quickly throw on some clothes and head downstairs to the hotel lobby. The drivers had agreed to meet for brunch today before getting thoroughly wasted last night. Maybe one of them knows something.
As you step out of the elevator, you immediately spot a group of your friends chatting in the lobby. Max, Charles, Lando … the usual suspects.
Lando is the first to spot you. “Well good morning, Mrs. Lando Norris,” he says with a cheeky grin.
You freeze. No way. There’s no way you married Lando. The kid is like a little brother to you. An obnoxious, hyperactive little brother. But Lando just laughs at your stunned expression.
“Kidding! You should see your face right now,” he giggles. Little punk. But at least that rules out Lando as your surprise husband.
You roll your eyes and shove Lando playfully before turning to the others. “So, crazy night last night, huh?” You say, aiming for nonchalance.
Max shrugs. “I mean, it’s Vegas. Things do tend to get wild.”
“Right, wild,” you echo. Time to cut to the chase. “So wild that I ended up getting married apparently.”
You hold up your left hand, wedding ring glinting in the light. The others stare at it then at each other, puzzled.
“Wait, you actually got married last night?” Charles asks incredulously.
You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Yes! And I have no idea who I married. Come on mates, you must remember something from last night that can help me figure this out.”
But their faces are blank, everyone shaking their heads. Useless, the whole lot of them.
You turn to Max, who averts his eyes, looking uncomfortable.
“Max, come on. You always know everything that happens on these nights out. Help me out here,” you plead.
Max shuffles his feet, not meeting your gaze. “I mean, it was pretty crazy. I was very drunk too,” he mumbles.
You sigh in frustration. Clearly you’re not getting anywhere with this group. You need to try someone else, someone who maybe left the party early last night.
You recall Fernando complaining about the horrible music at one point. Bingo.
“Alright, I gotta go see if I can find someone who can get me answers,” you announce. “You drunkards are no help.”
As you turn to leave, Charles calls after you, “Let us know if you find out who the unlucky guy is!” This earns snickers from Lando and Max.
You shake your head and head out to find Fernando. That Spaniard better have some useful information or there will be hell to pay.
One thing is certain, you will get to the bottom of this. You need to find out who this mystery husband is, sort out this mess, and most importantly, get this ring off your finger before the media catches wind of your drunken Vegas wedding.
This is going to be one hell of a day.
***
After leaving the unhelpful group in the lobby, you set out to find Fernando. The Spaniard has always had a keen eye for details. If anyone saw what happened last night, it would be him.
You find Fernando sitting alone at a table in the closest coffee shop, sipping an espresso. He looks irritatingly fresh-faced and put together given the wild night you all had.
“Well good morning, chiquita,” he says with a smirk as you plop down across from him. “You look like you had quite the night.”
You scowl at him. “No thanks to you. Leaving the party early again, I see.”
Fernando shrugs. “What can I say? I’m getting too old for these Vegas nights out with you crazy kids.”
You roll your eyes dramatically. “Oh yes, grandpa, you’re soooo old at 42. Anyway, I need your help figuring something out.”
You hold up your left hand, the wedding ring glinting under the lights. “Any idea how this might have ended up on my finger last night?”
Fernando raises an eyebrow, looking far too amused. “Well well, our little Y/N got married in Vegas. Who’s the lucky man?”
You huff in annoyance. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out! I don’t remember anything from last night. But I woke up this morning hungover as hell with this on my hand.” You waggle your finger for emphasis.
Fernando sits back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, interesting. And you say you remember nothing?”
“Nothing!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up. “Everything after the third tequila shot is a total blank. Please tell me you saw something that can help me out here.”
You give Fernando your best pleading puppy dog eyes but the Spanish driver just shakes his head.
“Sadly, I did not witness this alleged wedding. I turned in early, unlike you wild youths.”
You groan and let your head fall to the table. “This is bad, Fernando. Really bad. I could lose my seat over this if the team finds out I pulled a stunt like this. I need to figure out who I married!"
Fernando pats your head condescendingly. “There there, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. Your secret is safe with me.”
You peer up at him suspiciously. “Just how secret is this? The smirk on your face makes me think you know something.”
The smirk widens. “Maybe I know something, maybe I don’t. But I’m not going to spoil the surprise for you.”
“Nando!” You smack his arm as he laughs. “This isn’t funny! Just tell me who I married!”
“Nope,” he says, popping the P obnoxiously. “It is too entertaining watching you squirm.”
You let out a frustrated growl. “You’re the worst. I don’t know why I bothered asking you for help.”
“Because you love me, that’s why,” Fernando says with a cheeky wink.
You can’t help but smile a bit at that. You’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for the menace.
“Ugh fine, keep your secrets,” you concede. “I’ll figure this out without your help.”
You start to stand up but Fernando stops you. “Leaving so soon? Stay, have some breakfast with me. You’re going to need your energy today.”
Your stomach rumbles at the mention of food so you sink back down into your seat. “I guess I could eat something while I plot my next move.”
A waiter comes by and you order a massive plate of food to soak up the alcohol still swimming in your system. As you tuck into your meal, you notice Fernando watching you from across the table, looking thoughtful.
“You know,” he says. “Whoever you ended up marrying ... they are a very lucky man. Underneath this hungover mess, you have a good heart. Don’t be too hard on yourself over one wild night, eh?”
You pause mid-bite, touched by his sincerity. “Thanks, Nando. That really means a lot coming from you.”
He smiles and squeezes your hand briefly before returning to his coffee. The playful twinkle returns to his eye. “Even if you did get married like an idiot last night.”
You snort. “Wow, thanks. Way to ruin the moment there.”
Fernando shrugs, unrepentant. “What can I say? I live to annoy you, little sister.”
You finish up your meal, feeling slightly better with some food in you. As frustrating as that encounter was, at least you can count on Fernando to keep this quiet. Time to go gather more clues.
You stand and point an accusatory finger at Fernando. “This isn’t over. I will get to the bottom of this mystery marriage!”
Fernando just smiles enigmatically. “I have no doubt. Good luck, Mrs. Whatever Your New Last Name Is.”
You stick your tongue out at him maturely and flounce away. That man is infuriating. But the quest continues. Time to find the next driver on your interrogation list.
***
You decide to try your luck with Daniel next. The Aussie partied hard but he’s also a notorious gossip. Maybe he caught wind of something that can point you in the right direction.
You find Daniel lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, basking in the Vegas sun like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
So unfair.
“Hello there, sunshine,” he drawls as you walk up. “Don’t you look fresh as a daisy this fine day.”
You glare at him from behind your own sunglasses. “Stuff it, Ricciardo. I’m only here because I need information from you.”
Daniel gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me! Here I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends,” you roll your eyes. “When you’re not being a pain in my ass.”
“A pain in that fine ass of yours? Perish the thought!”
You smack him lightly upside the head and he chuckles. “Alright alright, what do you need from old mate Daniel?”
You plop down in the lounge chair next to him and hold up your left hand. “I need you to tell me anything you know or can remember about how this got on my finger last night.”
Daniel lets out a low whistle. “Well tickle me pink and call me Sheila, Y/N’s gone and got herself hitched in Vegas!”
You shush him frantically. “Keep your voice down! The last thing I need is for this to get out.”
Looking far too delighted by the situation, Daniel leans in conspiratorially. “Right, top secret and all that. Who’s the lucky fella then?”
You sigh. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Everything after we moved on to OMNIA is a total blackout. Please tell me you know something.”
Daniel taps his chin thoughtfully. “Let me think here ... I may have some recollection of the night’s events.”
You perk up. “Yes? Go on then, tell me!”
“I do seem to remember ...” he pauses theatrically, “... that I was your very own ring bearer for the occasion!”
Your face falls. “Seriously? That’s all you’ve got?”
Daniel grins cheekily. “What can I say, it was a beautiful ceremony. I was truly honored to be part of it.”
You smack his arm. “You’re no help at all! Come on, I’m desperate here.”
Daniel laughs and puts up his hands. “Alright, alright, I’m just having a bit of fun with ya. Truth is, I was as pissed as the rest of you lot last night. Don’t remember much myself.”
You sigh. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.
Daniel must take pity on your crestfallen face because he places a hand on your shoulder. “Chin up, Y/N. So you got a little wild in Vegas, it happens. I’m sure you’ll get it all sorted out.”
You nod but can’t keep the worry from your face. “I know, it’s just ... this could really screw things up if anyone finds out. I don’t even know who I married!”
“Well then it’s a good thing you’ve got the Honey Badger on the case!” He proclaims cheerfully. “I may not have the details but I’ll sniff around and ask some questions on the down low.”
You smile gratefully. “I appreciate that. Hopefully someone around here knows something.”
Daniel pops to his feet and offers you a hand. “Too right! Now come on, up you get. Let’s go scrounge up some greasy food and hair of the dog for that hangover, eh?”
You let Daniel pull you to your feet, feeling bolstered by his positivity.
As you head towards the sports bar in search of a burger and fries, Daniel slings an arm around your shoulder. “Cheer up! This’ll make for one hell of a story someday. It might even become a Grill The Grid trivia question.”
Despite everything, you have to laugh. Trust Daniel to look for the bright side.
But you still can’t ignore the uneasy feeling in your stomach. You married someone last night. For real. It’s not just some random hookup you can laugh off. There’s a living, breathing person out there who you pledged your life to and you don’t even know their name.
What kind of person did drunk Y/N choose as a life partner? Are they worried about this too? Or are they some opportunistic sleaze looking to take advantage of you?
You shake your head, realizing Daniel is watching you with a quizzical look. No use speculating. Just keep searching for answers, one driver at a time.
***
After saying goodbye to Daniel, you set off in search of Lewis. As the life of every party, surely he has to know the details of your wild night.
You eventually track him down just outside the hotel, walking his beloved bulldog. Lewis grins when he sees you approaching.
“Ah the bride awakens at last! We were wondering when you’d emerge,” he says with a chuckle.
You roll your eyes. “News sure travels fast. I’m guessing Nando blabbed?”
Lewis shakes his head. “When you have an impromptu wedding in the middle of a rager in Vegas, people are going to talk.”
You wince, dreading how far word of this has already spread. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, you need information.
“About that ...” you say. “I don’t suppose you happen to know who I ended up marrying last night?”
Lewis’ grin widens. “Now what kind of best man would I be if I spilled the beans?”
You stare at him in shock. “Best man? You were there?”
“But of course!” Lewis declares. “Had to lend my impeccable fashion sense for your dress. Pulled some strings with a stylist I know and got you all hooked up last minute.”
Your mind is reeling. You got married in an actual wedding dress? This just gets worse and worse.
You wrack your brain trying to picture it. But you have zero memory of any dress. Lewis must read the confusion on your face.
“Don’t worry, I had it safely delivered to your room after you started taking it off in the middle of the club. Though I’m guessing you were in no state to keep track of it,” he chuckles.
You shake your head, still stunned. “I didn’t see any dress in my room. What did you do with it?”
Lewis taps his chin. “You know, I did pop in this morning to check on you but you were still passed out cold. So I had the dress boxed up and sent off to be preserved and framed as a gift.”
He crouches down to scratch Roscoe behind the ears. “That’s from me and this good boy right here. Couldn’t let such a work of art go to waste!”
You’re touched in spite of yourself. “That’s really sweet, thank you. But I would really rather just know who I married right now.”
Lewis stands back up and wags his finger. “Ah ah ah, where’s the fun in that? This is the most entertainment we’ve had all season!”
You groan as Lewis laughs. “Come on, Lew. Have mercy and put me out of my misery here.”
But Lewis just zips his mouth. “My lips are sealed! Don’t you worry though, he’s a great guy. You’ve got my stamp of approval.”
You cross your arms in frustration. Of course Lewis would drag this out like a sitcom. But his clue gives you pause.
“He’s a great guy,” Lewis said. So your mystery spouse is someone Lewis personally knows and actually approves of. That narrows it down a bit.
Lewis gives you an apologetic smile and checks his watch. “I’d best be off. But don’t worry, you’ll figure this out!” He tosses a wink over his shoulder as he saunters away with Roscoe in tow.
You watch them go, mind spinning.
Lewis doesn’t just compliment anyone. So apparently drunk Y/N didn’t marry a total disaster. That’s something at least.
You absently twist the wedding band around your finger. You wish you could remember anything about him, about what happened between you.
Did you have a beautiful ceremony? Exchange heartfelt vows? Share a magical first dance as spouses?
You shake your head ruefully. If so, what a shame not to remember any of it. Here’s hoping that this “great guy” turns out to be someone who can make you fall in love all over again ...
***
You decide on a new approach — find the person who actually married you and your husband last night. Whoever officiated the ceremony must know the identity of your mystery groom.
The only problem is, you have no idea who that could be. It’s not like Vegas chapels employ actual priests or judges to perform marriages. It was probably just some random person licensed to perform marriages.
You start making the rounds of the chapels on the Strip, showing your ring and asking if anyone remembers you coming in during the night. But you have no luck — most of the chapels you try to check in with aren’t even open yet, catering to the drunk impulsive crowd that comes out after dark.
After hours of fruitless searching, you plop down on a bench in front of the Venetian, racking your brain for what to try next.
A group of women in matching Bride Tribe shirts walk by, laughing and chatting in that way only tipsy daytime bachelorettes can.
One of them pauses as they pass and calls out to you. “Hey hun, you look down. Guy trouble?” She gestures to your ring.
You debate waving her off but then reconsider. Maybe a bachelorette party would know their way around the Vegas wedding scene.
“Yeah, you could say that,” you reply. “I’m trying to find the person who married me last night but it was a bit of a ... wild impromptu thing. I don’t even know where it happened.”
The women gasp excitedly. “Oh my god, a drunk Vegas wedding? That’s epic!” Says the one in the rhinestoned Bride To Be sash.
“Epic disaster more like,” you mutter but can’t help smiling. Their enthusiasm is infectious.
The bride puts her arm around you. “Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll help you sort this out! I know all the best chapels.” She turns to her posse. “Ladies, let’s help her track down her mystery hubby!”
You find yourself swept up in the bachelorettes’ mission to assist you. After barraging you with questions about the wedding (“Please tell me you at least had a cute dress?” “Oooh was it Elvis themed?”), they decide that the most likely chapel was The Little Vegas Wedding Chapel off the north end of the Strip.
You all pile into their pink party bus and soon pull up at the aforementioned chapel. The receptionist greets you with a smile. “Welcome ladies! Who’s the lucky bride today?”
The girls nudge you forward. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Well actually, I’m trying to find out if I was a bride here last night.” You show her your ring. “I don’t remember much but I know I got married. I was hoping you might have a record?”
The receptionist types away on her computer, then frowns. “Hmm doesn’t look like we had any late night weddings yesterday. Our last was at 10 pm.”
You sigh but thank her anyway. So much for that idea. At least the bachelorettes are still upbeat as you climb back on their bus.
“No luck there but it was still a fun adventure!” The bride-to-be seems to have all the enthusiasm in the world.
You nod, grateful for their attempts to help. As the bus starts moving, the bride gasps.
“Wait, girls, I think I know where we need to go!” She turns to you excitedly. “There’s this little all-night chapel down on Fremont Street. Our friend Val got married there on a total whim a few years ago and she said it was fabulous!”
A chorus of squeals greets this news. You aren’t sure this is a solid lead, but hey, it’s not like you have any better ideas.
“Alright, let’s give it a shot!”
Twenty minutes later you’re climbing out of the bus in front of a small chapel with a neon 24 Hour Weddings sign. Taking a deep breath, you push through the door into the kitschy Vegas-themed space.
At the front counter is an older man in an Elvis costume that must be at least a size too small. Bingo. You hurry over and show him your ring.
“By any chance did you marry me and some guy last night?”
The Elvis impersonator peers at you for a moment before his face lights up in recognition. “Well slap me sideways, you’re the lovely lady I helped get hitched last night! What a shindig that was!”
Your heart leaps. Finally a lead! “Yes that was me! Do you by chance have a record of who I married?”
Elvis frowns. “You mean you don’t remember the young fella? He was real handsome, said some mighty sweet vows if I recall correctly.”
You shake your head in frustration. So close and yet so far.
Elvis pats your arm. “No worries darling, old Elvis remembers. I gotcha hitched to ...”
You lean forward eagerly as Elvis taps his chin, racking his memory.
“Now let’s see ... young fella you married. He was oh ... a bit taller than you I’d say. Had one of them European accents — German, Swedish, or somethin’ like that. Brown hair I think. A pretty good lookin’ chap. Dressed real sharp too.”
Your heart sinks as Elvis delivers the extremely vague description. Brown hair and a little over your height? Well that only narrows it down to about half of the paddock!
You groan and smack your forehead in frustration. So close! Elvis gives you an apologetic look.
“Aw shucks, wish I could tell ya more little lady. But I was croonin’ so many love songs last night that all you couples started to blend together.”
You force a smile, knowing he did try his best. “That’s alright, I appreciate you checking for me.”
Back outside, you fill in the eager bachelorettes on Elvis’ less than helpful clues. Their excitement deflates a bit.
“Dang, that could be like, anyone!” One says, voicing your thoughts exactly.
The bride-to-be squeezes your shoulder. “Don’t worry hun, we’ll keep thinking! Your mystery man is out there somewhere.”
You give her a grateful hug. “Thanks ladies, for all your help today. I should probably get back to my hotel and keep investigating.”
The gaggle of girls walks you back to the bus, firing off more wild theories about your potential groom.
“Oooh what if it’s that sexy Spanish driver … Alfonso?” Suggests the bridesmaid named Amy.
“It’s Alonso,” you correct with a laugh. She may be way off but you appreciate the enthusiasm.
As you say goodbye to your new friends, your mind is spinning once again. So Elvis confirmed this wedding really happened, though his clues weren’t particularly enlightening.
But he did say one thing — whoever you married gave sweet vows. So apparently in your drunken state, you picked someone who could be sincere and romantic.
That has to count for something, right?
You glance down at the wedding ring on your finger, the physical reminder of the huge secret you’re unraveling. Did you really promise to spend your life with someone here of all places? And do they plan on holding you to that promise?
Your gut twists with anxiety but also a trace of curiosity. Who is this mystery man who can make drunken Elvis shed a sentimental tear?
Whoever he is, you’re going to find him.
***
Exhausted after a day of fruitless searching, you decide to head back to your hotel to regroup. You slump down onto one of the plush couches in the crowded lobby, mind still spinning over the bizarre situation you’ve found yourself in.
Who exactly did you end up pledging eternal devotion to in your drunken stupor last night? So far your quest to unravel this mystery marriage has led nowhere.
But you can’t rest yet. You need answers.
As you sit there contemplating your next move, your phone starts blowing up with Twitter notifications. You blink in surprise. Must be big news dropping for this much activity.
You open the app and nearly swallow your tongue when you see the top trending hashtag: #Y/NMaxWedding.
Your stomach drops to your feet.
No no no, this cannot be happening!
But with a sense of impending doom, you click on the hashtag. Immediately you see the bombshell that has sent your world into a tailspin.
It’s a tweet from a fan account, featuring photos they somehow obtained of a Clark County Nevada marriage certificate between you ... and Max Verstappen. Your teammate.
You stare slack-jawed at the images of the official document signed by you and Max as spouses, clear as day. Your drunken Vegas escapade isn’t a secret anymore. It’s public record, blasted all over social media.
Numb with shock, you scroll through countless tweets analyzing, freaking out over, and cracking jokes about you and Max’s surprise nuptials. Some fans are outraged. Others seem delighted at this bombshell gossip.
You groan, head in your hands. This is an absolute disaster. What was merely a drunken mistake is now immortalized online. There’s no hiding it or hoping it will blow over quietly.
You married Max freaking Verstappen in Vegas. The sometimes arrogant and standoffish but always crazy talented driver you’re teammates with. No wonder he was acting so squirrelly this morning when you asked about the wedding.
Some logical part of your brain knows you need to talk to Max, start figuring out what to do for damage control. But the overwhelmed emotional side just wants to crawl under a rock and hide.
In a daze, you make your way up to your suite. Once inside, you toss your phone onto the bed, not even bothering to read the likely hundreds of texts blowing it up. You are in no state of mind to talk to your manager or team right now.
Collapsing onto the couch, you stare blankly at the wall, feeling numb. Despite all your investigating, a part of you still hoped that maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe the ring and certificate were just part of some elaborate prank.
But there’s no denying it now. You’re well and truly married to Max Verstappen.
A hysterical laugh bubbles out of you. Of all the drivers, of course you had end up with him. Max, your fiercest rival, constantly pushing you to be better. The teammate who drives you crazy but also loves to compete with you and rile you up.
God, your friends are never going to let you live this down. Married to Max. It’s like some cheesy fanfiction brought to life.
You glance over at your silent phone. The logical part of your brain knows you need to call him. You’re going to have to talk about this and figure out what the hell to do next.
But the overwhelmed part wants to put that conversation off indefinitely. You need time to process the bombshell that just upended your life before you can face Max.
Your inner debate is interrupted by a knock at your door. You freeze. No doubt it’s the Red Bull PR team come to scold you or paparazzi looking for a comment on your no-longer-a-secret marriage. Well you have nothing to say to them!
“Go away!” You yell but the knocking persists. With an irritated huff, you wrench open the door, fully prepared to give whoever’s there a piece of your mind.
Instead, you come face to face with the person you least expected but probably most needed to see. Max stands in your doorway, sheepish and awkward.
For several tense beats, you just stare at each other, the weight of this life-altering moment hanging between you.
Finally Max breaks the silence. “So ... quite a day, huh?” He gives an uneasy chuckle.
You continue gaping at him, stunned into silence. Max shuffles his feet, not quite meeting your eyes.
“Can I uh, come in? I think maybe we should talk.”
Wordlessly, you step aside and let him enter the suite. Max perches on the edge of an armchair while you sink onto the couch. More tense silence.
Max clears his throat. “So I’m guessing you’ve seen it?”
You nod mutely. Max sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
“Look, Y/N ... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But I woke up just as confused as you this morning. Wasn’t totally sure it was even real.”
He hesitates then continues softly. “You were pretty out of it last night. We all were. Getting hitched was obviously crazy but I guess it seemed fun in the moment.”
You shake your head, finding your voice at last. “This goes way beyond fun, Max! We’re married! Actually married!" Your voice edges up hysterically on the last word.
“Yes it was a ... crazy night,” Max laughs nervously.
You scoff bitterly. “That’s putting it mildly. I’d say a drunken Vegas wedding to my teammate counts as more than just crazy!"
Max winces at your tone. “Look Y/N, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. But we were all wasted last night. I didn’t even remember at first—”
You cut him off sharply. “Well I don’t remember any of it! As far as I’m concerned, this so-called marriage never even happened.”
You begin pacing. “We need to get this annulled immediately before things get worse. It was clearly an idiotic mistake.”
Max frowns, looking hurt. “Whoa, no need to be so harsh. It may have been drunken impulse but ... maybe it was also fate.”
You stop pacing and stare at him incredulously. “Fate? Are you insane?”
He stands and steps towards you. “Hear me out. We’ve been teammates for years now. Maybe deep down we both wanted this.”
Your jaw drops open. Max keeps going.
“I know it’s crazy but what if this marriage was meant to be? We owe it to ourselves to give this a real shot before bailing.”
You gaze at him in disbelief. Is he seriously suggesting ...
“Give this a real shot?” You repeat faintly.
Max takes your hands earnestly. “Yes! We’ve always made a great team on track. Just imagine how great we would be together off track too.”
You open your mouth to argue but Max presses on. “Plus, my children need a mother.”
You yank your hands back in shock. “Children? You have kids?”
“Well, not human kids,” Max admits sheepishly. “But my cats, Jimmy and Sassy! They need a maternal influence.”
Your head spins as you try to keep up with Max’s ramblings. Is he pranking you right now?
He fixes you with his most charming smile. “Come on, wifey. Just give it a chance! We’re clearly compatible if drunk us wanted to get married.”
You stare at him like he sprouted a second head. Max gazes back hopefully. His smile really is kind of adorable ...
No! Snap out of it! This is crazy.
But he does raise some valid points. And backing out now would cause an even bigger scandal ...
You slump down onto the couch with a groan. “Fine! We’ll stay married for now. But we explain to the team it was just drunken foolishness.”
Max pumps his fist. “Yes! See, we’re already compromising with each other. It’s like we’re meant to be husband and wife!”
That finally breaks through your haze of shock. Oh god ... you have to tell Christian Horner that you married Max Verstappen.
***
You take a deep breath as you stand outside Christian’s hotel suite, arm raised to knock. “Ready for this?” You ask Max.
He grimaces. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Might as well get it over with.”
You steel your nerves and rap sharply on the door. After a moment, it swings open to reveal Christian mid-yawn.
“Y/N, Max, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks curiously.
You shuffle your feet, not sure how to start. “Uh, hey Christian. Max and I have something we need to discuss with you. Mind if we come in for a minute?”
Christian narrows his eyes but steps aside to let you both in. “What’s this about? I just got off a conference call with the factory team in Milton Keynes and I was finally planning to try my luck with the slots downstairs.”
You perch awkwardly on the edge of an armchair while Max stands next to you stiffly.
How do you even begin to break this kind of news to your boss?
“So Christian, funny story ...” you start lamely.
Max jumps in, deciding to just rip the bandaid off. “We got married last night.”
Christian’s eyes widen comically. For a long moment he just looks between you two like you each have three heads. Then he throws his head back and laughs heartily.
“Good one guys, you almost had me there! Trying to pull one over on your poor old team principal, very funny,” he chuckles, wiping his eyes.
You give a weak smile. “No uh, we’re actually being serious. We got married for real last night.”
Max nods. “It just sort of ... happened.”
Christian collapses onto the sectional, looking between you in shock. “This would be a great time for you to stop with the prank.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Max says solemnly. “We were drunk and it was all really quite fast ...”
“No no, this must be some kind of joke!" Christian protests, though he’s starting to look uncertain. He grabs his phone off the coffee table. “Let me just check online, there’s no way ...”
His voice trails off as he scans his phone screen, eyes going wide at the headlines. With a low groan, he collapses back into his armchair.
“It’s true? You two actually ...” He drags a hand down his face. “Please tell me this is all some elaborate hoax the internet cooked up. Please tell me that two other people named Max Verstappen and Y/N Y/L/N happened to get married in Vegas last night.”
You shake your head helplessly.
Christian drops his head into his hands with a groan. “Unbelievable. Two of my drivers running off and eloping in Vegas! The media is going to have an absolute field day with this.”
He fixes you both with a stern glare. “Do either of you have any idea the position this puts the team in? The scandal it could cause?”
You hang your head, properly chastised. Max speaks up tentatively. “We’re really sorry, Christian, it was incredibly stupid of us. But it’s done now so we just have to deal with it.”
Christian sighs heavily. “You’re not wrong. The last thing we need is more media drama so we will have to get out in front of this.”
He pauses, regarding you both shrewdly. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll pursue an annulment right away and we can pretend this never happened?”
You glance at Max, who takes your hand and shakes his head. “We’ve talked it over and want to make this work. It happened for a reason.”
Christian makes a strangled noise. “Make this work? You plan on staying married??” His voice rises in pitch, verging on hysterical.
“We want to try,” you confirm, squeezing Max’s hand.
Christian looks desperately between you two once more before his eyes roll back and he slumps over in a dead faint.
You and Max rush over in concern. “Christian!" Max taps his face urgently. “C’mon, wake up!”
After a few tense moments, Christian’s eyes flutter open. “Wha ... what happened?” He mumbles.
“You passed out when we told you we’re staying married,” you explain sheepishly.
Christian groans, covering his face with his arm. “God help me, this is a nightmare ...”
You have to bite back an inappropriate laugh. Seeing your usually unflappable team principal so flustered would be funny if the situation wasn’t so serious.
Max helps Christian sit up and hands him a glass of water. “Sorry for springing this on you. But we’re going to make the best of it.”
Christian fixes Max with a weary look. “Just promise me no more reckless surprises from you two.”
You and Max raise your right hands in unison. “We promise!”
Taking a deep breath, Christian straightens his shirt and smooths his hair, regaining his composure. “Right. Well this is certainly an unexpected development. But the show must go on.”
He adopts his usual businesslike tone. “We’ll need to draft a press release announcing this immediately and get ahead of the media cycle. No commenting publicly until we strategize.”
You both nod obediently. Christian checks his watch. “I needed to get our PR team on the phone five minutes ago. You two, order room service and lay low until you hear from me.”
He ushers you politely but firmly out the door. As it shuts behind you, you turn to Max with wide eyes. “Well ... that could’ve gone worse?”
Max winces. “I thought Christian was going to burst a blood vessel at first. But it seems he’s taking it in stride.”
You both burst into slightly hysterical laughter, the stress melting away.
Looks like you have a marriage to figure out how to actually make work.
***
One year later
You take a deep breath as you knock on the door to Christian’s office, Max by your side. It’s time to break some more big news to your team principal.
“Come in!” Christian calls.
You enter to find him sitting at his desk surrounded by the usual organized chaos of strategy plans and data analysis.
He looks up, blinking in surprise. “Y/N, Max, what brings you by?”
You glance at Max, who gives you an encouraging nod and tentative smile. Turning back to Christian, you clasp your hands together nervously.
“Hey Christian. So, remember last year in Vegas when we promised no more reckless surprises?”
Christian’s eyes narrow warily. “Yeeesss ...” he draws out.
You look at Max again who blurts out, “Well we have another surprise coming your way. You’re going to be a grandpa!”
Christian’s jaw drops. His gaze darts down to your still flat midsection then back up to your nodding, beaming faces.
“You ... you’re ...” Christian stammers, looking like all the blood has drained from his face.
You take pity and confirm it for him. “Pregnant, yes. Surprise!” You add with an awkward chuckle.
For a few long moments Christian just sits there, mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a fish. Then, his eyes roll back and he topples forward, head thunking down on his desk.
You and Max rush forward. “Uh no, I think we broke him again,” Max winces, gently shaking Christian’s shoulder.
After a few tense seconds, Christian stirs with a groan. “Oww, my head ...”
“You passed out when we told you about the baby,” you explain sheepishly.
Christian blinks blearily up at you both hovering over him anxiously. “The baby ... so it’s really true then?”
You place a hand on your stomach. “Yep! There’s going to be a little Verstappen running around in around seven and a half months.”
Despite his obvious shock, Christian manages a weak smile. “Well how about that ... we’re expanding the Red Bull family.”
Max claps him on the back. “I know it seems a bit crazy but we’re thrilled.” He squeezes your hand and smiles softly.
Christian lets out a long breath, straightening his rumpled shirt. “Well, I appreciate you both coming to me first this time. We’ll need to strategize how to share the happy news.”
You can’t resist teasing him gently. “Don’t worry, we’ll do our best to avoid making you faint again in the future.”
Christian levels a stern finger at you both. “See that you do. My heart can only take so much.” But his mock glare melts into a warm smile.
You exchange a grin with Max.
It turns out that sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas … but neither of you is going to complain about that.
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dreamescapeswriting · 3 months
Text
Stray Kids Reaction || He Throws His Wedding Ring [Hyung Line] [Mafia Edition]
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⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of blood, killing, sex trafficking (not involving the reader) murder and fighting.
CHAN:
You couldn't even remember how the argument had and now you and Chan were standing in his living room staring at one another. Your breathing was rapid as you fought back the tears that were threatening to spill.
"Chan, I can't do this anymore. This life, the constant worrying and danger...Secrets...Not knowing if you're going to come home or not." You were exhausted from fighting with him, it had been going on for hours now and it felt as though he was never going to see your point of view behind this.
"This is who I am, Yn. You knew that when we got married, I can't just walk away from this."
"I didn't sign up for a life where I'm constantly worried if you'll come home alive! Or worried that someone will grab me!" You sniffled a little tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I want a normal life, a family without the fear of losing you every fucking day!" You finally yelled out but Chan scoffed at you like you were a child talking back to him.
"Normal? You think we can just walk away from this and be a normal couple?" He stared you down and shook his head at you, 
"It's not that simple. I have responsibilities, they won't just let us go." He grumbled at you, pouring himself a drink from the mini bar in the living room as you stared at the back of his head.
"Responsibilities?! Chan, you have a responsibility to me, you know...your wife! I won't be a widow before I'm at least 80!" You yelled at him finally losing your last bit of patience.
"You'll always put this life above me...Won't you?" You questioned, waiting for him to tell you that was crazy and that he loved you more than that,
"You knew when you married me that this was our life. Don't go trying to change the rules now." He downed the glass in one and you stared at him, the tears finally stopping as you felt nothing but anger for him now.
"Then maybe I made a mistake. Maybe I never should have married a man who thinks throwing his life away is honourable," The words flew from your lips before you had a chance to process them and the air turned thick and silent. You swore you could hear the faucet in the kitchen dripping, that's how quiet it was in the home now.
Chan silently twisted the ring around his finger before slipping it off and hurling it across the room, the ring clattered against the wall and onto the floor,
"There, happy now?! Is that what you wanted?!" He screamed at you, and your eyes searched him for any sign of your once-happy husband, the one you wanted to spend your life with.
"No, Chan. I wanted a husband, not some mafia boss..." You slowly slid the ring off your own finger and placed it down onto the coffee table,
"I can't sit here night after night waiting for that phone call to tell me you're not coming home." You wiped the tears from your face and walked toward the front door, Chan didn't stop you he just stared down at the wedding ring on the floor, the weight of his choices crushing him down onto the floor.
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It had been two days since the huge blowout with Chan and you'd been hiding out in one of your friend's places for those two days, no phone or tracker for Chan to find you with which was why it was surprising to find him waiting for you at the door.
"What are you doing here?"
"Kat called," You scoffed a little, she'd been threatening to do it but you never thought she would. Whatever happened to the girl code?
"I'm not interested in fighting anymore. If you send divorce papers I'll sign, I don't want anything." You explained as you moved around him, unlocking the front door to head inside. You'd been apart and it killed you but anything was better than worrying every day about whether he was alive or not.
"Yn." He called out but you shook your head at him,
"You can keep everything,"
"I have nothing." The words stopped you in your tracks as you slowly turned to face him,
"What?"
"I walked away. Not without consequences but I did." It was then you noticed the sling around his arm, within seconds you were by his arm and inspecting it.
"It's just a minor break," He whispered as you stared up at him,.
"You walked away?" You whispered in shock, staring down at the ring that was back on his finger.
"Given the choice between that life and the love of my life? I needed to." He held out your wedding ring and you stared into his eyes, the mafia life was everything to him,
"But-"
"I'll still work for them but mostly low-level stuff...You're looking at a desk boy." He said proudly to you, it hurt his ego but he'd rather be chained to a desk than risk losing you. You slipped your ring back on before throwing your arms around Chan and hugging him tightly.
MINHO:
The living room was thick with tension as you paced back and forth in front of Minho who lounged on the sofa with a sombre look on his face but it only made you more frustrated to look at him.
"You promised me," You seethed out, shaking your head at him.
"You promised me that you were done with this...Done with all of the killing." You gestured to his shirt which was drenched in blood and then looked at his face. Streaks of blood and skin were dripping down his face as you felt the bile in your throat beginning to come up again. He'd walked through the door all nonchalant thinking you weren't home today only to find you waiting for him,
"I did what needed to be done, Yn!" He didn't yell or scream he just sighed at you. He thought he might have been able to get away with it if he could get home before you and shower before you had a chance to see him. 
Sure he would have been lying to you but anything was better than getting into a fight with you over the same thing you always thought over.
"You told me things were going to change once I got pregnant," Your sight began to blur from the tears that were building up,
"You said you wanted our child to have a father but look at you!" You gestured once again to the state of him,
"If our child sees this what are they going to think!?" You yelled and threw your hands up in frustration. All of this was supposed to stop once you got pregnant, he promised he'd take a step back and leave the dirty work to his minions. 
"You think it's easy for me?!" He finally screamed, getting up from the sofa and staring you down.
"Do you actually think I enjoy living like this?! Killing people?! Sometimes there is no other choice!" He yelled at you, your eyes unblinking as you stared at him.
"There's always a choice! You could have found another way." You grumbled at him, you were sick of this fight. Every time it was the same, he'd promise to stop killing only to pick it back up a few days later.
"I won't raise our child in his environment, Minho. I won't let him grow up to think it's normal to kill people in order to get what he wants."
"Yn. It wasn't to get what I wanted."
"No? Then what was it? He looked at you wrong? Flirted with me?" You listed off all the excuses he'd given to you before and Minho finally snapped, pulling off his ring and throwing it across the room. It skittered across the floor coming to a stop at your feet.
"Whatever. You want something so normal, go on and try it." With that he walked out, slamming the door behind him as you stared down at the wedding band on the floor. Something that had once been a symbol of your commitment to one another now meant nothing as it sat there.
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"Changbin told me everything." You told Minho as you sat in the hospital waiting room together. It was deserted since Minho would never let anyone be alone with you,
"Hmm." He answered blandly, staring down at the floor. It had been a week since your fight and despite living in the same house you'd barely spoken a word to one another.
"Why didn't you tell me he was a sex trafficker."
"Would it have made a difference?" He slowly turned his head to look at you, your eyes were already staring into his as you nodded at him,
"Yes."
"I only kill who I have to. It's not something I do for fun." He admitted, his voice shaking a little. It wasn't as though it didn't affect him, he was taking another person's life which twisted him up in a way.
"I try and limit what I have to do myself but sometimes I have to do it." He told you with tears running down his cheeks, you nodded a little before kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand in yours.
"I understand,"
"I won't bring work home with me...Please, just don't leave." He begged, Minho wasn't the type to beg anybody for anything and you nodded.
"Wouldn't dream of it," You whispered before kissing him once more.
CHANGBIN:
You stared at Changbin from across the table with an unimpressed look on your face, Changbin had sweat dripping down his forehead as he glanced down at his phone for the time again.
"This was supposed to be our night," You were pissed at him, you wanted to yell at him for standing you up but you were in such an upscale restaurant you couldn't even do that.
"A simple dinner date and you couldn't even make it on time." You mumbled at him, 
"I got held up. Business came up." Changbin answered as if it made the whole thing better
"Business always comes up. I'm tired of being second best to your business." As you spoke Changbin took out his phone clearly not listening to you as he began texting with someone, probably one of his men if you knew him well enough by now.
"It's not like I enjoy this but it's the life I have." He shrugged his shoulders as you stared at him, his head still in his phone, he didn't even see the tears rolling down your cheeks in a silent cry. 
It seemed that was all you ever did lately when it came to your relationship, you'd be left crying while he pretended he didn't notice or maybe he didn't even notice, you didn't know anymore.
"We're drifting apart, Binnie. You're never here and I need more." Your voice broke as you spoke to him, your frustration getting the better of you.
"I knew who you were when we got married but I didn't sign up to be stood up, or for anniversaries and birthdays to be missed." You'd finally broken, he'd missed so much of married life you weren't even sure you could count each other as a married couple. 
"I want a life with you, not one where I'm always waiting for you to show up and magically decide I'm worthy that day." Changbin stared down at the ring on his finger before he twisted it, throwing it onto the table and gaining attention from nearby diners.
"Maybe you're right. I can't give you what you need." Was all he said before storming off, leaving you to stare down at the ring on the table as people around you muttered about what had happened.
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"You know this is getting a little exhausting," Changbin told you as he followed you from the car to the house just like he had been doing every day since the night he'd given you his wedding ring back.
"I want a divorce." You told him plainly as you headed into the house you once had called home and he followed swiftly. 
"You know you can't walk away. I've been trying, Yn."
"I'm not interested in you trying anymore Changbin, I'm tired of never being put first..." Your voice trailed to a stop as you walked into the living room, there must have been thousands of your favourite flowers around the living room in vases and different arrangements.
"A thousand and one flowers...To make up for the dates I missed." He explained once he saw you trying to work out how many there were.
"W-What?" You stuttered a little walking toward them and running your hands on them to make sure that they were real.
"I missed too many to count so a thousand and one seemed fitting." He shrugged his shoulders and you turned around to stare at him.
"You didn't miss anywhere near a thousand." You laughed weakly and he stood in front of you, running his hand gently over your cheek as he stared down into your eyes,
"I won't miss a single one again...If you'll take me back." You wanted to, more than anything but it was going to take a lot more than flowers to make up for all of the time you'd lost together.
"It's going to take more than some-"
"I know." He told you with a smirk on his lips,
"And you're going to have to show me change." He planned on it, he had a plan in place for everything he was going to do.
"I know."
"And I- I wanted to go out regularly, once a week." You told him, right now Changbin would have given you whatever you wanted and one date a week sounded too easy on him in his eyes,
"Okay." He smiled at you,
"Okay?" You frowned as he smirked down at you.
"Yes, okay. Now will you let me kiss you?" You went to speak but it was quickly stopped as Changbin kissed you deeply.
HYUNJIN:
You couldn't believe it was coming down to this, you stared at your husband as he stared back at you with a scowl on his face clearly unamused by what was happening but you were tired of all of this. Tired and hurt about second guessing where you fell in Hyunjin's life.
"I need to know..." Your voice came out shakey as you stared at him,
"Do you even love me anymore?" You finished before he scoffed at you, downing the glass of whiskey he'd been nursing and shaking his head at you.
"What kind of question is that? Of course, I do." It wasn't a silly question, it was something you'd been agonising over for weeks now, months even.
"Your actions say otherwise." You scoffed, staring at him as he poured himself another glass and began to slowly nurse it as you stared at him.
"You're always so caught up in your business and I'm always here wondering if I even matter to you."
"This is the life of a mafia wife Yn. You knew that when you married me." You did, which was a fair point but he'd shown you that while it was a lot of waiting for him it was supposed to be a lavish lifestyle the two of you could share. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd gone out together that wasn't an obligation to the both of you.
"I didn't sign up to be a in loveless marriage! You promised me it would be in sickness and in health, for better or worse." He drank from his glass before pouring a third one for the night, usually two were his cut off so you knew you were getting under his skin a little and if that's what it took for him to see your point then you didn't care.
"I need more than lavish gifts from you every now and again and empty promises that we'll do something eventually."
"I take you out." He defended angrily but you didn't back down. There hadn't been a real date since you got married to one another, everything else was parties you had to be seen at or charity events you couldn't miss.
"To your stupid parties where your presence is required. You never take me somewhere we want to go."
"You don't think I provide for you!? Is that it?!" He finally yelled, losing his patience with you. Hyunjin adored you, practically worshipped the ground you walked on and for you to suggest otherwise was a knife to his chest,
"No-"
"I work like a dog, day and night and I give you everything you could ever possibly need in life!" He shouted out, not meaning to shout at you but he'd snapped that last bit that was holding him back,
"I don't NEED material things, I need you! I need your love! I need your presence!" You yelled at him.
"You know what I feel when we go out to your parties?" He doesn't answer you, instead, he stares down at the liquid in his glass that is burning his throat,
"I feel like a fucking trophy on your arm, something you can show off as the "Ha I got her" look." You started down at the wedding ring on his finger. Hyunjin had no idea you felt that way, his heart broke a little as he stared back at you, how could he have not seen it before?
"If you love me, then show it. Actions speak louder than words." In a fit of frustration, Hyunjin takes the ring off his finger and hurls it onto the table, the metal echoing around the room.
"You don't love me." You barely whispered before walking out of the room,
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You'd walked out on him two weeks ago and since then he'd been nothing but sweet to you, showing up every day to walk you to work and bring you lunch.
"Why are you doing all this?" You asked as you stared at the picnic that was on your office floor.
"I'm starting again." He told you as if it explained everything he'd been doing for the last two weeks.
"What?" You slowly sat down on the floor noticing that everything he had was all of your favourite foods.
"You said actions speak louder than words. I'm starting from the beginning with you, more dates, more time together." He held out a glass for you and you took it from him,
"To new beginnings." Your eyes stared down at his hand as you noticed the ring was back in its rightful place.
"New beginnings." You said, clinking your glass with his and smiling a little. Maybe it wasn't the best way to start again but if it was him truly trying to change you were going to give it your best shot.
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xmalereader · 8 months
Text
Simon Riley X Male Reader
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|| Masterlist ||
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Authors Note: Here is the first request! I did make a few adjustments to this shot and I hope you enjoy it! I tried to extend it and instead left it short :( but I hope you enjoy it!
Requested: Hi! I hope you have been doing well and not being to kich stressed<3 If you request are still open I was hoping you would take this one where Simon Riley introduces his boyfriend who is a total sunshine to the team after the boyfriend comes to visit him in secret to their fake base. The boyfriend is a normal civilian and the total opposite of Simon so it's weird seeing them as a couple(you can throw Alejandro and Rodolfo if it's okay with you)
Warnings: Fluff, relationship goals, grump x sunshine dynamic, black cat x golden retriever dynamic, reader is a florist, dark humor, Alejandro is a flirt, sweet moments, short, language, Spanish words, mentions of wedding, ghost is embarrassed, mentions of past trauma.
Word count: 1.7K
Tags: @nobodylivesson
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Simon wasn’t one to tell people about his past nor his personal life, keeping it hidden from his enemies and those closer to him. Throughout the years he had grown afraid of bringing someone into his life, even though he looked like a stoic and scary man when working in the military, deep down inside he showed that he cared for the people he worked with or lost during action.
After losing those he cared for he went back to being his stoic self, shouting demands at his own soldiers and killing his enemy in the most brutal ways imaginable. No one ever approached him unless out in the field or during a mission, but for a normal conversation he kept his distance around others until one unexpected mission he met him.
Y/n was the total opposite of Simon.
He met the man during one of his mission. He was a normal civilian with a normal life who owned a flower shop. Every time Simon saw him in the streets he shined brighter than the sun and always made his day better, knowing that he was safe. Simon didn’t know when these feelings towards the civilian started happening, but he can guess that it started when Simon was uncover, dressed out of his gear and without his mask, feeling so exposed and naked without it.
He was keeping an eye on his target and couldn’t draw any attention towards his way and had to get rid of his mask. He didn’t expect himself to bump into the ball of sunshine during his time out, watching as the other man carried a box of carnations and dripping on his own laces, before havoc occurred, Simon had stepped in without thinking and caught the man with one arm and with the other he caught the box of carnations.
Simon had come face to face with the florist that day and was received with a flower and a dinner date after the accident. Who wold have thought that the most serious man in the military would be dating someone much sweeter and brighter than him? Simon wasn’t suppose to get attached to him, but as dates and meets up occurred the poor man had fallen into the florists trap and couldn’t leave him alone without getting worried.
Both Simon and Y/n started dating after that until it bloomed into something serious.
The florist knew that Simon was busy with his own work and never questioned him and only told him to be safe and to comeback to him. Those simple words always encourage Simon to get through his mission in order to return back home to him.
It wasn’t until he was recruited into 141 a special forces team with much needed skills that could handle terrorists missions the dangerous stuff that no regular soldier would be able to handle. During his time with his new team he didn’t think he would grow attached to them to the point where he grew overprotective of them, they were his family.
He kept his relationship about Y/n very well hidden from the others and never left hints of him being in a relationship. Whenever Y/n sent him flowers he always left them somewhere out of base where they could either keep growing or for any small animals to claim, when he would send him letters, Simon would make sure to memorize his words before burning them. It wasn’t that he didn’t want his lovers gifts, no. It was because he was being safe, afraid that his enemy could get their hands on it and use it against him.
When Y/n first found out about the ways that Simon treated his gifts the florist was upset, thinking that the bigger man didn’t appreciate his gifts and was probably embarrassed by the things he wrote but, Simon had reassured the man that he did love his letters and was simply being safe. It didn’t take long for the two to fix the miscommunication and clearing things up.
Their relationship continued on for a year.
When Simon was stationed in a base in Mexico he figured he would be there longer than planned, eager to get back home to his lover, but controlling himself. They were staying in Alejandros base, going over some plans and reminding themselves what they are to do. After the events with Shepard and Graves the 141 team had grown close with Alejandro and his partner, helping them when its needed.
The good thing is that they had a few days off, getting a break from all the chaos and being able to relax for a bit. Some went off base to be with their families while others stayed behind, like Simon did. It was no use getting back home, flying out will take time and for him to only be with Y/n for a day or two and then to fly out again was torture. He’d rather spend those days either locked in his own room or practicing his combat with those who stayed behind.
What Simon didn’t expect was a knock on his door, alerting him of someone’s presence and to pull the door open and see Soap on the other side with a small grin on his face. Simon didn’t like the look on his face and narrows his eyes under his balaclava.
“What is it Johnny?” His voice is deep when asking as the Scottish mans grin widens.
“We’ve got a lad up front, claiming that he knows you.”
Simon raises a brow confused at first until Soap speaks up again.
“He brought flowers.”
Those words are enough for Simon to storm out of his room, brushing past Soap as he makes his way towards the front entrance of the base. Simon doesn’t want to overthink and believe that its Y/n because what would that man be doing out this far from home? It was dangerous and Simon could not have him wandering around the streets.
When Simon finally appears near the entrance his eyes immediately land on Y/n who stood patient while staring down at the flowers in hand as one of the soldiers stood by and watched, being cautious of him.
“Y/n?”
Simons voice gets the mans attention, lifting his head up and smiling widely.
“Si—Ghost!” Y/n quickly corrects himself, not wanting to give away Simons identity out in the open as he walks up to him and wraps his arm around his torso, smiling widely before standing on his toes to kiss his covered cheek. “Surprise?”
Simon chuckles. “A surprise indeed, why are you here?” He asks, hands touching Y/n’s shoulders and arms, wanting to make sure that he got here safe without any problems. The other didn’t bother batting Simons hands away and allows him to check him over. “I’m here on a flower delivery, this beautiful couple bought a big order and had to get it shipped here on time for their wedding and the couple were nice enough to let me stay for the ceremony.” He explains.
“You attend a wedding?”
“Mhm! I also stole the center piece.” Y/n gives off a mischievous grin as he held out the small case of flowers while Simon rolls his eyes. “Stealing your own flowers isn’t really stealing.”
Y/n pouts. “Don’t ruin my fun.” He mumbled out while handing Simon the small vase of flowers which gets the man chuckling a bit.
“Was that a laugh L.T?”
Simon’s smile quickly falters when hearing the familiar Scottish man who stood over his shoulder while looking at Y/n with a knowing smile. “Hello.” Y/n greets with a small wave at the other man.
“Who do we have here?”
Y/n smiles as he sticks his hand out for a shake. “I’m Y/n, Ghosts boyfriend.” He says proudly while shaking Soaps hand who stares in disbelief. “Boyfriend? Who would have thought that Ghostie knew what love is?” He was clearly teasing the man and Simon wasn’t amused by his jokes, but Y/n was.
“I know right? He may look scary in the outside but in the inside he’s a softie.” Said Y/n.
“Who’s a softy?”
Simon wanted to groan when Gaz approached them next a hand on his hip as his eyes dart from Simon to Y/n, before figuring out the situation and turns to Y/n with a charming smile. “Gaz, Ghost and Soaps teammate.” The florist chuckled at Gaz charm and shakes his hand too. “Y/n, Ghosts boyfriend.” He introduces himself.
Introductions continue on when they move further into base where the finally meet up with Price who possibly already knew about Simon’s relationship, but pretends like he didn’t know when greeting the young man. Everyone’s was still surprised to know that someone so happy and bright could be Simons lover.
Simon who was always brooding and cracking dark humorous jokes that not many of the others laughed about. Funny to say that Y/n laughed at a few of them which always made Simon smile.
“Well, well, a quien tenemos aquí?”
Alejandros smooth voice cuts into the crows, making his way through as the man eyes Y/n up and down before taking his hand into his own and kissing the top of his hand, earning a soft blush from Y/n who chuckled in a flustered manner. “I see we have a romantic one amongst everyone.” He gently pulls his hand away while Alejandro chuckles. “Rumor has spread that fantasma, here got himself un amante.”
Y/n raises his brows in shock. “Wow that fast, huh?” He laughs out, looking over his shoulder to Simon and playfully smacking his chest before focusing back to the others. “It was very nice to meet everyone, Simon talks highly of everyone.” Everyone on Simons team slowly looked at him with mischievous grins and smiles on their lips while Simon glared at them in return.
“You don’t say?” Says Soap. “Got any embarrassing stories of him?”
“OH! I do! There was this one time when we were in bed together—!” It wasn’t until Simon quickly covers his lovers mouth with his large hand, stopping him from going any further. “Time to go, love.” Simon orders while wrapping his arm around his waist and dragging him away.
Y/n groans, but doesn’t stop himself from waving the others goodbye. “Bye! Hope to see you all soon!” He shouts from across the base while the others waved in return, watching as Simon dragged his lover away from his men, glad that he’s wearing his balaclava in order to hide the embarrassing blush on his face.
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giorno-plays-piano · 3 months
Text
Proposal | Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader, Kento Nanami x reader, Sukuna Ryomen x reader
Warnings: fluff, some cursing, a little yandere-ish Sukuna, mention of pregnancy
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Satoru knows everything about you, including the way you drink your coffee: he generously adds cream and that fancy caramel syrop he bought for the occasion in the cup he prepared for you, giggling like a child. He feels really proud about making his proposal so creative and unusual. Proposing with a cup! Isn't it sweet?
It's hard to keep a straight face when he hands you your coffee, but Satoru is trying so much, leaving a tender kiss on your temple as you smile. Then you're softly tugging him by the collar to make your shamelessly tall boyfriend bend down and give you a real kiss, and he complies without a word. He really knows everything about you, and yet, every single moment you spend together feels like a gift.
As he sits opposite you, devouring warm waffles you made him a couple of minutes ago, he does his best not to shift nervously in his seat. All his thoughts are about the face you'll make once you see the bottom of the cup. If Geto ever asked him about it, Gojo would always reply with the exasperated sigh that you'd accept. He loves you. He knows you love him, too, even if sometimes he turns into a literal manchild with a penchant for drama. But he's caring, soft-hearted, and ready to walk alongside you for the rest of your lives because he can't imagine spending it with anyone else. There's nothing he wouldn't give you.
It feels like you've been together for eternity, but it hasn't even been that long. He just... doesn't want to delay it anymore. What for? He knows he wants to see you in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle and smiling at him, shining in all beauty. Surely, you want the same?
The minute he sees your face changing, Satoru is jumping off his seat, hands shaking a little. You have just finished your coffee. You are now staring at "Will you marry me?" written beautifully at the bottom of the cup with googly eyes, blinking away tears.
The second you turn your head to him, he's already on one knee with a beautiful engagement ring he spent several weeks searching for, dragging Shoko to every decent jewelry store he spotted for "moral support".
You say yes before you even register what's happening, hugging the cup close to your chest like it's your greatest treasure.
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Kento Nanami is not a nervous man by a mile, and yet he finds himself furrowing his brows as he pours down your favorite green tea in the new cup he secretly got you, mulling over the fact you might not find his proposal adequate. Wasn't it better to do it the old-fashioned way? Book a nice restaurant, buy you a huge bouquet of red roses, propose like any other decent man on his knee with a fancy ring...
"But it's really getting old," Shoko enlighted him as she handed him a perfectly normal cup in a box, tapping it with her slender finger. "Look, haven't you heard how Gojo proposed to his wife?"
Then Nanami sat there like a fool and listened to that story, questioning himself if the old-fashioned proposal was really the right way to go about it. You did joke he reminded you of an old man sometimes, and he certainly didn't want you to think that when he'd be proposing.
He still wonders how Shoko managed to change his mind in a heartbeat, but what's done is done. You are setting down the table while he is pouring green tea right into that famous cup, knowing you will see its bottom the second you take the cup into your hands.
Kento Nanami realizes he is sweating profusely, the red velvet box with your engagement ring burning a hole through the pocket of his dress pants. Are you going to say yes? There is't a day he was unsure of your feelings, but he can't help feeling a little self-conscious today. You didn't date long, to be fair, and yet he was convinced you were going to be his wife the second time he saw you. It was that simple.
He likes everything about you, regardless of how cringy it sounds when he tries to put it into words. The way you smile at him every morning after waking up, and how you look when you're packing him lunch before he leaves for work, and how your face lights up when he comes back, tired but happy to find you in his home. He is seriously thinking of changing his god-awful corporate job just to spend more time with you because you make him realize how precious the time you share together is. Marrying you is only logical when every moment he spends away from you, he thinks of coming back and having you pressed tightly against his chest.
Do you feel the same way?
He knows you do when you turn to him, smiling so wide it almost hurts, and he's on his knee before you can say a word. The next second, he is putting the ring on your finger and kissing your knuckles as you say yes, laughing, tears streaming down your cheeks.
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Sukuna had never planned to propose. Hell no. Him? Marrying some woman? Whoever even joked about it was going to get their ass kicked. He never even cared for serious relationships, much less marriage that was akin shackling himself for some girl's advantage.
No, Sukuna is never going to get married.
And yet, he is standing in the kitchen in nothing but his gray sweats, holding this stupid cup with its stupid "Will you marry me?" all over its damn bottom. He wants to say he hates it, break it, and throw away the fragments before your eyes land on it, but he also sort of... doesn't.
He does want you to stay. Not like his girlfriend who comes and goes, but like... like someone who doesn't leave. Not now, not ever. Sure, he isn't stupid to believe marriages are binding people forever like they were half a century ago - Sukuna thinks it's a shame, really - but he knows you wouldn't leave. Not with a ring on your finger and his child in your tummy. But both things need work, and thus he is now standing in the middle of a kitchen like a fool, dumbly pouring you coffee in that fucking cup that's supposed to help him propose.
What a fucking pain.
"Can you give me my cup, please?" You ask, hurriedly putting his sandwiches in a lunch box for him to eat at work, and Sukuna nearly splashes coffee all over himself.
"Oi, can't you wait one more minute, woman?!" He yells, enraged he almost dropped the dumb cup and ruined the whole thing, and you immediately send him a death glare.
No, meek little girls wouldn't survive a day with Sukuna. You, on the other hand, are ready to fight him at any given moment, which is precisely what you are going to do now.
"I'm only asking for a cup of coffee, not a dry martini with a lemon twist!" You retort, furious at his attitude, and Sukuna does his best not to throw the kettle in the sink, instead shoving the cup into your manicured hands and turning away as quickly as he can.
This is going so wrong. Why can't he be at least a little more patient? It's his goddamn proposal, and he's fucking it up right from the start.
"You forgot to add sugar," you add dryly, and he thinks he's going to explode.
"JUST DRINK THE DAMN COFFEE, WOMAN!"
Maybe it could have scared anyone else, but you are a woman bending aluminum spoons with your stare, and Sukuna's outbursts aren't scaring you. Instead, you scream at him with the same intensity, "WHY SHOULD I DRINK THIS NASTY COFFEE?"
Sukuna is now fully turned to you, his face contorting in anger, "BECAUSE I CAN'T PROPOSE TO YOU WITHOUT IT!"
He realizes what he just said a second too late, slapping himself in disbelief as you're staring at him wide-eyed across the kitchen. What a fucking moron. He should've just proposed in a restaurant or some shit. How was he going to do the right thing now?
But you finish your coffee in two big gulps and then stare at the bottom of the cup with a dumbfounded expression like you never in a million years expected him to propose. Your eyebrows are so high on your forehead it almost looks comical.
"Are you for r-"
"Yes," he cuts you off impatiently, and you see, he really is nervous. "So, what? Are you going to marry me or not?"
He's going the wrong way about it from start to finish, and yet, it doesn't deter you as you nod, unable to utter a word. He has finally managed to leave you speechless.
Nice, Sukuna thinks before he draws you to him, giving you a heated kiss before you have the time to ask him why the hell couldn't he propose normally. Then he says, "Your dress fitting is on Tuesday. I'll text you the address."
"SUKUNA, WHAT THE FUCK?!"
________
Tags: @minshookie29
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sublimitymp3 · 10 months
Note
hi hope you have a nice day :) if you have time could you write hotd's yandere boys (estranged) romantic reaction to his reader wife giving birth to twins? (I apologize in advance if this bothers you or something I swear I didn't mean to :( take care :)
I'm back 😈😈😈
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Aegon was madly in love with you, his darling wife, but he never quite knew how to show it. He had awful habits of drinking, whoring, and gambling, only pushing you further away from him. Each time he'd come crying to you on his knees promising he'd do better, you'd hold him and suppress your feelings, but enough was enough. You were pregnant, carrying his child and he couldn't even make an effort to stop his wanton ways. You were fed up, and rightfully so. You had moved into your own separate apartments, eating your meals alone in your rooms, and avoiding places around the Red Keep you knew your husband would frequent. Eventually, the months passed, and you neared closer to giving birth each day, until one night, your labors finally had begun. Aegon was at some brothel wasting away and getting drunker by the second it seemed. He had no clue you were in the midst of your labors, nor that you would be bringing in not one, but two of his babes into the world. It is only the next day does he wake from his slumber, hungover and feeling ill, does he find out you had given birth. He rushes to your chambers to see you sitting up in bed, cradling two swaddled babes, each one with little tufts of white hair and violet eyes. He'd immediately burst into tears at the sweet sight, begging for your forgiveness and swearing to the old Gods and the new that he would change his lecherous ways for you and his newborn children. Despite your apprehension to forgive him, deep down inside you strangely felt that he would truly honor his promise this time.
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Aemond seemed so cold to you. He was distant and rarely ever spoke to you unless it was necessary. Even when you'd try to initiate conversation he'd only respond cooly with a yes, no, or a simple hum of acknowledgment. You'd tell yourself at night when you lay alone in bed that it could've been worse. He could've been prone to striking you, or he could flaunt paramours in your face. He could've been a drunkard, a wastrel, or a cruel and sadistic husband. However, your efforts to comfort yourself would be in vain, as the feeling of loneliness festered within.
Despite Aemond being a withdrawn husband, you both had done your duty on your wedding night and so it was no surprise you had fallen pregnant. Unbeknownst to you, Aemond was growing more and more obsessive over you once he had been told you were now carrying his child. He didn't mean to be quite neglectful, he only wished to not overwhelm you with his less-than-normal feelings of obsession towards you. He practically stalked you, despite the fact you two were married and expecting a child. The months passed, and Aemond would open up a bit more, showing bits of care and concern toward you in your fragile state. But even then, his actions seemed cold and his words curt. When your labors begin, Aemond remains in the hall outside the birthing room, despite wanting to rush to your side. He decided right then and there as he heard your screams of pain that he would no longer keep up this distant farce. He didn't care if you'd find his attentions odd, he just couldn't bear to torture himself or you any longer. Once he could hear the wails of a baby, he'd rush into the room to be greeted with the sight of two, small, and wailing babes laying on your chest. He'd come to your side, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he admired your newborn twins with a small smile. You felt hope for your marriage at that tender moment, the first hope you had felt in such a long time.
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Jacaerys loves you so much, he truly does, but sometimes you feel as though he puts his duties of being heir above you. He takes his role extremely seriously, as his mother's claim is already shaky due to her being a woman, and his even more so due to the concerns of him being legitimate or not. He doesn't mean to neglect you, to dismiss your attempts at spending time with him, or to hardly inquire about his babe that grows within you. By the time he notices, the damage is already done. You had given up any attempts to spend time with him, to conversate with him, or to merely be in his presence. It seemed to you that he put his duty before you, and you couldn't see how you could change that. Honestly, Jace is so sweet I can't imagine him not immediately coming to you and apologizing immensely for being an inattentive husband, so for the sake of this, let us imagine he finally realizes the effect his actions have on you by the time you are in the midst of your labors. He'd be pacing outside the birthing room, mentally chastising himself for being so foolish. How could he have ever been so stupid to leave you alone when you needed him most? How could he be so cruel to the one he loved most? Your muffled screams of pain from beyond the door shattered his heart even more, and all he could do was wait in borderline painful anticipation. When the maester does let him in the room, he rushes to your side. He apologizes immensely, kissing your tears away and brushing the hair that sticks to your sweaty face out of the way. When he holds the twins for the first time, you watch him adoringly. Everything seemed right again.
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Ser Criston didn't get to see you much. You two were wedded in secret, as due to his vows as a member of the King's Guard, he wasn't allowed to wed or father children. You were a common girl, living in the city, and Ser Criston spent his days and nights at the Red Keep. He could only visit you on his rare days off, and even then those were kept brisk due to his paranoia someone would discover you. You had always tried your best to be understanding, after all, you knew what you were getting into by being romantically involved with a member of the King's Guard. But an awful thought would always linger in your mind whenever you would see Ser Criston: did he regret marrying you? The thought would persist, never leaving like some parasite that had latched onto you. In fact, as the months passed and your stomach swelled with his child, it only grew. He looked uneasy every time he'd stare too long at your pregnant belly, only feeding that awful thought in the back of your mind. Sometimes, you would even find yourself questioning your marriage to him, doubting it all. Your marriage grew tense, and though none of you voiced these feelings, it was evident the doubts festered within both of you. The day Ser Criston visited you after you had brought his twins into the world, he looked shocked. The color seemed to drain from his face, as he saw them. Not one, but two, living breathing children, evidence he had broken his vows. But the heartbroken expression on your face as you held back tears slapped him back into reality. He would quickly kneel by your side, whispering to you how he loved you and the babes more than anything, and that he regretted nothing. When he finally holds the babes, his smile was so genuine, and his eyes were filled with nothing but love. At that moment, those awful doubts faded from your mind, never to be thought of again.
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Daemon longed for battle. He loved you dearly, and so desperately wanted to stay put with you and your unborn babe. But when the fighting in the Stepstones had begun, and the perfect opportunity to spite his brother for refusing to name him heir arose, he couldn't resist. You had begged him to stay, far too worried for the peril he would most certainly face during battle, and fearing for his life. He brushed you off, leaving you behind.
You spent your nights alone, praying to the Seven to keep your lord husband safe so that your child would have a father. He barely wrote to you, and you found yourself getting more and more frustrated at him for leaving you and your child behind to participate in some war that didn't concern him that much. And it wasn't like he wanted to help for some noble cause, you knew he only joined to spite his brother. Instead of spending the remainder of your pregnancy happy with the notion of your child growing within you, you spent it crying tears of anger and sadness.
When Daemon first hears word from a messenger that you had given birth to healthy twins, he abandoned his petty attempts to establish his own kingdom to spite the king. He would return to you as fast as he could, proud that you had given him two strong and healthy heirs. Daemon wasn't the best at saying apologies and preferred to show them through actions. The Stepstones could wait, all he needed right now was to be with you and the newborn twins.
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when that 3am inspiration pulls you out of your sixth month hiatus 😍
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eloves-writes · 4 months
Note
How do you feel about Virgin!Reader x Coryo where reader wheres a purity ring and Coryo thinks it is adorable and one day she just hands it to him on a chain and he immediately gets the hint and is like “Are you sure?!?!”
anon i read this before i left for college this morning and have genuinely been kicking my feet and giggling ALL DAY.
mdni, 18+ content under the cut
you had worn your purity ring since the day you turned thirteen, vowing to stay pure until the ring was replaced by a wedding band. it had been easy throughout your teen years to maintain these vows, as none of the capitol boys were particularly alluring to you at all- until your first day at the university, when coriolanus snow arrived back from his peace-keeping summer in the districts. his hair had been buzzed and grown back out, his blond curls starting to return but he wasn’t the same man who mentored the songbird girl in the hunger games. he was dripping with ambition and a thirst for power, and it was attractive in a way that almost scared you. somehow, you had lucked out and gotten his attention, and by graduation your lives had intertwined in every way except one.
coriolanus didn’t mind waiting for you, because he knew that it would be worth it to be the only person who would ever touch you. sure, it was difficult at times when all he wanted to do was rip your clothes from your body and fuck you sensless, but he could wait. he was a patient man.
but you couldn’t wait any longer. your own fingers, though they felt sufficiently sinful, could only do so much. the thought of coriolanus between your thighs was not enough; you needed him to finally touch you. make you his. mark you in a way that couldn’t be covered and wear your purity ring around his neck as a trophy.
you mindlessly played with the gold chain between your fingers as you stood outside coriolanus’ study, drawing up the confidence to knock. it wasn’t that you were scared; just nervously excited in a way that was new to you.
“come in,” corio’s voice spoke from inside.
you opened the door tentatively, a subconscious smile on your face when you saw the man sat at his desk working away. “how did you know i was there?”
corio continued to write as he replied. “i could just sense your presence, my love.”
after a moment of silence, he put down his pen and looked up at you. “to what do i owe the pleasure darling?”
“i have a gift for you,” you responded, trying to sound normal as if you weren’t about to give yourself up to the man.
coriolanus narrowed his eyes at you in friendly suspicion. “you’re giving me a gift? how the tables turn.”
it was true that he liked to shower you with gifts, from bouquets of roses to dresses to intricately expensive jewellery.
you playfully rolled your eyes, walking over to his desk and placing the chain in his outstretched hand. he took a moment to inspect the necklace, delicately fingering the pendant.
he knew what it was in seconds. he had spent many hours over the last few years staring at your hands, this simple gold ring sitting pretty on your dainty fingers. and you were gifting it to him. which meant it was no longer on your dainty fingers, which could only mean one thing.
corio placed it on his desk and stood in front of you, a solemn expression on his face. “are you sure?”
it wasn’t how you had expected him to react. “yes, corio. i’m sure.”
he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, gazing into your eyes with equal love and lust.
“thank god.”
suddenly, his mouth was on yours, and though you had kissed him many times before, there was a profound urgency now that ignited something deep inside of you, hotter and more fervid than you’d ever felt alone in your bed at night.
you were on your back on corio’s silk sheets, pleasure coarsing through your vains as he drove himself into your tight pussy. his pace was reserved as he tried not to overwhelm you, but you felt so fucking good that he thought himself a saint for not snapping his hips as fast and hard as he possibly could. the feeling of snow on top of you, your bare bodies pressed together as if you would die should you not be touching every inch of one another, his cock filling you and hitting your g spot with every thrust. your warm virgin cunt squeezing him tightly as if you were trying to hold him there forever. it was well worth the wait, losing yourself completely in his filthy, beautiful words. drunk with pleasure and corio and love and his mouth on your neck and his cum spilling inside of you.
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zeawesomebirdie · 4 months
Text
Superbat Fake Dating + Identity Porn Rec List
Thanks to @jourquet for asking for this!! I hope you find something here to read!! (And paging @steine-druff as promised!)
These are in no particular order, but generally organised by trope. I tend to read longfic as a general rule, so these recs will reflect that :) the titles contain links to each fic.
Fake Dating
1. A Common Misconception by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 91,114 words; 21 chapters; complete
Summary:
When Bruce Wayne comes out, he accidentally becomes the poster child of bisexuality and realizes his lifestyle of sleeping around needs to come to an end. Clark, being the supportive friend that he is, volunteers to pretend to date him for a year.
You know the rest.
This fic has everything that one could want in fake dating: idiots in love, mutual pining, one bed, fake vacations, miscommunication. It also really captures the superbat dynamic of trusting and yes and-ing each other, even when they probably didn't need to be!
(And if you like this fic, any of rotasha's other works are just as good! I've got a few more of them in this list too)
2. over this threshold by orphean; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 59,283 words; 7 chapters; complete
Summary:
'I don't understand how tax evasion relates to you going on a date with, do I need to remind you, Bruce Wayne.'
Clark bit his tongue.
'We're going to get married. It's a tax break, not tax evasion.'
'Are you kidding me.' Lois stared. 'That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.'
———
Bruce asks Clark to marry him for tax reasons. Clark, against his better judgment, agrees.
Exactly what it says on the tin. Some highlights include Bruce buying Clark ridiculously expensive suits, Clark taking forever to tell his mom what's going on, and of course the wedding itself which was just delightful, with speeches from Lois, Alfred, and Dick that had me crying.
3. A Rich Man's Game by malicegreres; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 63,942 words; 13 chapters; complete
Summary:
The editorial staff of the Daily Planet, currently owned by Bruce Wayne, is trying to organize a labor union. Clark can't explain to his coworkers why he can't participate without jeopardizing the campaign—or tell Batman why he's been so cagey around him lately. When Bruce finds out what's been going on, Clark recruits him to resolve his conflict of interest in the only way Clark can think of: by pretending to date him.
This fic is truly glorius. Of all the ways Clark could have solved this problem, he chose the most convoluted. And surprise surprise, it works!
4. mission parameters by shipyrds; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 33,394 words; 6 chapters; complete
Summary:
"Bruce." Clark turns towards him, leaning back against a bank of consoles. "We're not actually going undercover. We don't need an elaborate backstory– if anything, it'll be harder to keep straight. It doesn't have to be complicated." He spreads his hands. "Here's a story: we're members of the same elite fighting force. After years of saving each other's lives in the field, we fell in love. That's it."
Bruce swallows past the almost-truth of it. In Clark's warm smooth radio voice, it sounds plausible. It sounds like something that could happen.
Bruce and Clark pretend to be married for diplomatic reasons. When they return to Earth, things are a little different.
Of all the things that normally Bruce says, Clark is the one to insist on a simple coverstory. And of course, from such simple things spirals out a whole entire adventure that doesn't stop just because the mission is over! This fic features a domesticity that neither of them knew they needed until they had it
5. tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter [@susiecarter on tumblr]; rated M; no archive warnings apply; 33,007 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.
*slapping this fic like that one meme with the car* this fic can fit so much miscommunication into it, it's truly delightful to read!! Also, yet another fic where Clark fails to mention what's going on to his mother. And of course the constant worrying about each other without actually expressing it, which is truly such a golden trope when it comes to these two!
I'm adding a cut here because this is already very long and we are still only just starting, so click the read more to see the rest ^.^
6. there ain't no star that shines by amosangius [@amosanguis on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 11,713 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
“I'm not the same person I was back in high school,” Clark says, “and I doubt they all are, either. What would be the point?”
“Oh, Clark,” Bruce is suddenly holding Clark's face with both of his hands, “the point is that I'm going to land us in a helicopter somewhere for all your classmates to see.”
Clark sighs and closes his eyes.
“Say 'yes', Clark,” Bruce orders.
Clark doesn't open his eyes, just says, “Yes, Clark.”
If you thought Bruce buying Clark expensive suits just for their fake dates was excessive, you ain't seen nothing yet!! This fic also features casual bed sharing (and so many references to casual intimacy oh my goodness it's lovely), Bruce Wayne being Rich As Fuck, and Bruce casually being overprotective of Clark in social situations
7. my heart is an open wound by yukla [@yuebings on tumblr]; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 13,367 words; 1 chapter; complete
“—I’ll see you kneel again,” Luthor is hissing, eyes hungry, and Clark is swaying back in discomfort—and as Lois checks their surroundings again, she notices that Wayne is still standing across the room, staring uselessly, as though he believes the sheer force of his murderous gaze would be enough to laser-blast Luthor into oblivion.
Jesus Christ, Lois thinks. I have to do everything around here.
5 times a Daily Planet employee protects Clark Kent, and 1 time Clark Kent protects the Daily Planet.
Or: Clark's coworkers watch as he fake-dates his crush with limited success.
It is probably obvious by now that miscommunication and Bruce's emotions getting in the way of everything are two of my favourite things to read. All of Clark's coworkers are the best, and once again Clark is a self-sacrificing idiot (affectionate)
8. flash in the pan by shipyrds; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 15,951 words; 3 chapters; complete
Summary:
Here’s the thing. Clark does understand. Superman and Batman are fucking. Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are not. Clark can handle this. He keeps parts of his life separate all the time.
It’s possible, Clark thinks, as he glares at a lurid tabloid cover of Bruce’s latest scandalous yacht party in the grocery store checkout aisle, that he can’t handle this.
At the Wayne Foundation's annual holiday party, things come to a head.
Okay there is so much I want to say about this fic and yet there are no words that could possibly express just how incredible it is. Bruce coming up with the worst case scenario for literally everything? Check. Clark agreeing to fake date even though he's majorly head over heels and this will likely end in flames? Check. Ma Kent giving the best relationship advice ever? Check. Dick yelling at Bruce when he tries to self sabotage again? Check. Truly one of the best fucking-but-still-pining fics I've ever read!
9. Operation Sponsalia by Brenda [@brendaonao3 on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 13,610 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
"When did you first realize you were in love with me?"
Bruce coughs up his wine.
"I mean, in this...whatever this is," Clark clarifies, blushing to the roots of his hair. "I don't think you're really — I mean, I know this isn't —"
"It's alright." Bruce's voice is raspy, but steady. "I know what you mean."
Clark's glad one of them does.
Or: Bruce and Clark have to fake an engagement for ~reasons — featuring a metric ton of very romantic dates, enough floral arrangements to start a flower shop, SO MANY puns, and Clark finally getting to know the real Bruce. :D
Clark doesn't find out that Bruce said to the press that they had been dating long enough to be teasing enagagements until after it's already been said. Was there a better way to explain why Bruce just happened to help save the Kent family farm? Absolutely. And yet they follow through on it anyway, and I love it for them
10. Sham-pagne by ChrisLeon; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 8,248 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
Superman is spotted visiting Wayne Manor, prompting speculation about how exactly he knows Bruce Wayne. To protect their secret identities, they need a plausible explanation and it seems easy enough to go along with the tabloid theory that they’re sleeping together. All they have to do is pretend to be in a relationship until the speculation dies down and then they can break up move on.
Or: Superman fake-dates Bruce Wayne, we all know how this ends.
This one was fascinating to me because instead of Clark and Bruce dating, it's Superman and Bruce dating, and let me just say I'm so incredibly hinged about it!! I think there is so much potential in that particular version of their dynamic, and this fic was such a beautiful exploration of it!
11. Speaking in Code by Mithen; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 7,459 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
Clark and Bruce must go undercover at a newlywed resort to try and stop an assassination attempt. Hijinks, UST, and reluctant making out ensue.
First of all, Mithen is a superbat master. Pick any fic of theirs and it will be delightful. Second of all, I could write an entire essay about how much I adore the way they go from irritable about this mission to incredibly enthuasiastic over the course of their two days at the resort, but then we'd be here all day so: if you like banter, one bed, and a case fic this is a brilliant read
12. Kind Truths by Mawiiish [@superbattrash on tumblr]; rated G; creator chose not to use archive warnings; 6,478 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
Bruce needs help with an undercover mission. Clark can never say no to him even though he probably should before he does something stupid. Like tell Bruce he's in love with him.
--
“Why me?” Clark can’t help but ask. He tries his very best to keep his voice level, to not sound as desperate as he feels.
“Because I need someone there to watch my back,” Bruce says, a little exasperated. He really shouldn’t have to explain this to Clark of all people, it’s not like they haven’t been on missions together before.
“I get that, but what about Diana? Shayera?” Anyone who doesn’t have a big fat crush on Bruce would do.
Is it obvious I have a thing for Clark agreeing to fake dating despite his big crush on Bruce? This fic is glorious, and features delights such as Bruce metaphorically putting his foot in his mouth, Clark wanting nothing more than to defend Bruce's honor, and one of the most beautiful confession scenes I've ever had the pleasure of reading
13. where i come from by soetry [@soetrys on tumblr]; E; no archive warnings apply; 52,494 words; 11 chapters; complete
Summary:
Bruce doesn’t have a soulmark, and Clark doesn’t have a soulmark, on an Earth where everyone has a soulmark. Somewhere in there is a simple solution. Somewhere to that solution is an overcomplicated journey. Surely two of the world’s leading superheroes will not take the overcomplicated route?
Surely not?
This one is a little bit of both. The identity porn in this was really well done - Dick is a massive Superman fan, Bruce is unimpressed with both Superman and Clark Kent, and it all goes downhill from there (affectionate). Highlights also include Bruce using a dubiously legal site to crossreference soulmarks, him getting the Superman crest tattooed on his wrist using Kyrptonian tech, and Clark being a self-sacrificing idiot. This is also one of the best soulmate AUs I've ever read!!
Identity Porn
1. Get Over It by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 32,378 words; 3 chapters; complete
Summary:
Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...
Of all the identity porn I've read, this is one of the best! Bruce dating Clark to get over Superman is one of the best things ever and this fic really does a good job of their dynamic!
2. Lost Time Without You by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 68,792 words; 21 chapters; complete
Summary:
In a universe where your soulmate’s injuries show up on your skin, Bruce is convinced he doesn’t have a soulmate, and Clark is seriously concerned for his soulmate’s well-being.
This was my introduction to soulmate!AUs and oh my goodness it was spectacular! The build up to the reveal of their identities was brilliantly done, and the chance encounters that pepper through the lead up to that point were captivating. This fic also features Bruce being a good parent and I really love that for him
3. the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish [@superbattrash on tumblr]; rated T; creator chose not to use archive warnings; 95,533 words; 10 chapters; complete
Summary:
Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are all tired of watching Bruce struggle with the stress of trying to handle the newly formed Justice League. He needs an outlet, he needs to relax, he needs to get out of the house, he needs... he needs to start dating. And what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?
--
“Excuse me, I don’t know who you think I am, but I think there’s been a mistake.”
“Bruce, right?” the guy says, albeit less confidently this time. He looks slightly concerned and if Bruce is not mistaken… a tad embarrassed. “Bruce Wayne? You look just like your pictures.”
“My pictures?” Something finally clicks in Bruce’s mind, and he takes a small step back and plasters a smile on his face as to not rouse suspicion. Stalker. “Ah, of course, I’m sorry but I’m late for an appointment.”
This fic features the batkids catfishing Clark on Bruce's behalf, Bruce being a good parent, and the utter chaos of miscommunication that can only come from these two being idiots! It was a delightful read, and of course the batfam in action is always a joy!
4. ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat; rated M; no archive warnings apply; 62,737 words; 12/13 chapters; incomplete
Summary:
"Clark. What the hell is this," Lois asks, staring at Clark's Bruceman WIP folder. Clark's first instinct is to fly away, but that would still leave his fic on display for her to see. His second instinct is to blast a hole straight through his laptop screen with his heat vision, which isn't much better.
Clark, in an attempt to make some spare cash, unintentionally stumbles into the world of superhero fanfiction, becomes a prolific writer for Gotham's OTP, and tries his best to fend off rival fans who want him to convert to superbat instead.
Oh my goodness okay. Where to start with this fic. First of all, Clark writing Batman/Bruce Wayne fanfiction is such a brilliant concept. Then add to that the fact that Clark is secretly crushing on Batman at the same time, and the entire comedy of a trainwreck is a delight to witness!
5. I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am by Mardiaz173; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 12,920 words; 3 chapters; complete
It was like living in the Twilight Zone. Everyone else believed fervently in Bruce Wayne’s reputation. He was a flirty, stupid, and entitled drunk whose only redeeming quality was his bleeding heart. And yet every time Clark spoke with Wayne, the man was clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive.
And no one believed Clark. Not Lois, not his parents, not even Batman.
Clark insisting upon defending Bruce to everyone much to everyone's dismay is one of my favourite superbat tropes ever, and this fic really does it well! And of course, this fic also features Batman shit talking Bruce, which is always a joy to see!
6. Don't Quote Me by metropolisjournal [@metropolisjournal on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 77,131 words; 20/21 chapters; incomplete
Summary:
Bruce Wayne has weathered scandal before, and Wayne Enterprises can handle another publicity crisis. What Bruce can’t handle is one crashing up against his plans to infiltrate Lex’s estate. Set during Batman v. Superman.
This was the fix-it for Batman vs Superman that I didn't know I needed until I read it. The identity reveal was so incredibly well written, and the whole fic was stupendous from the very first chapter!
And that's all for now! I hope you find something in here to read, may you enjoy!!
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narumi-gens · 10 months
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Platonic
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Miya Osamu x f!Reader
summary: Osamu knows that there’s nothing going on between you and his brother. And yet, he still can’t help but be jealous.
warnings: minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, don't let the summary fool you – this is basically just 4k words of fluff, jealous!osamu, slightly insecure!osamu, married!osamu, dad!osamu, very normal relationship problems, the importance of communication, kita is always the voice of wisdom, osamu is really just a simp for you, reader and osamu are #CoupleGoals
notes: whenever I’m trying to get back into writing, stealing plots from sitcoms is always a guarantee so everything from the title to the banner to the plot is at least 80% lifted from platonic (which is such a wonderful show).
words: 4k
part of the Meet the Miyas series
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Osamu is jealous. And he hates it. He hates the word. He hates the feeling. He hates what it says about him. He really hates how irrational it is.
But what he hates most is that the person that he's jealous of is his own brother (that scrub).
But maybe he's the scrub. Because it's dumb. You've been together for years. You trust him. You love him. You're committed to him. You're married to him. You’re the mother of his child. You're happy with the life that you've built together. 
And he knows that Atsumu is your best friend. You were Atsumu's friend before he even met you. Atsumu is the one who introduced the two of you, who set you up — which he'll never stop taking credit for if his speech at your wedding was anything to go by. So of course you spend a significant amount of time with his twin. 
It’s never really bothered him before. If anything, he’s typically relieved that you’re so close with Atsumu. The more you occupy the setter’s time, the less time he has to annoy Osamu. 
And you’re allowed to have friends and a life outside of being a wife and mother. He wants you to have fun and to be your own person outside of your relationship with him. He doesn’t expect you to go from home to work and back to repeat the cycle all over again the next day. Not that you would ever allow it. 
It wasn’t easy and it took a lot of hard work, but over the years, the two of you have built a happy balance between him running the restaurant, you pursuing your own thriving career, being doting parents to a three-year-old son, and still managing to keep your marriage healthy. So this gross feeling of jealousy has no place in his life, especially where Atsumu is concerned. 
But it creeps up on him slowly, needling its way into him before he even has a chance to stop it. He first feels it over something so small that it embarrasses him. 
He asks you if you want to go see a new movie that’s been advertised for months. His mom and yours are always eager to babysit — sometimes eager to the point of forcing you both out of the house for what’s declared “much-needed grandparent time.” 
“Oh, I promised Atsumu that I’d see it with him,” you reply with a slight tilt of your head before picking up your phone. “Let me check with him about us all going together.”
It’s a simple and obvious solution. You’ve already sent your message to Atsumu and are looking up showtimes for that weekend. But there’s a small voice in the back of Osamu’s head insisting that you should be asking him if Atsumu can come with the two of you, not the other way around. The unfamiliar thought makes him feel uncomfortable and he quickly shoves it away.
But just that small, intrusive voice is like a spark and it isn’t long before he finds himself hearing it again, fanning the pathetic, weak flame into something stronger.
One morning, he’s pulled from sleep by the blankets lifting and the mattress dipping. When he cracks open a bleary eye, he sees you doing your best to slip into bed without disturbing him. He can’t check the time on his phone without giving away that you’ve already woken him up. But from the pale grey light of early morning that’s already beginning to brighten the bedroom and the fact that Reiji isn’t already awake, Osamu guesses that it’s between five and six. 
He knows that you had plans with Atsumu last night. You told him that you would probably be back late. But “back late” feels like an understatement considering the joys of parenthood usually have both of you up in about an hour whether it’s a workday or not. 
When you come down a few hours later, the bags under your eyes and unkempt hair point to your inability to sleep in even after what he can only assume was an all-night rager. You pepper your son’s cheeks with exaggerated kisses that have him giggling over his breakfast as Osamu pours you a cup of what he’s sure is much-needed coffee. 
“Ya got home late last night,” he comments as you take the mug that he passes you.
“Ah, yeah. Just ended up going a little harder than I meant to,” you reply and something close to embarrassment seems to cross your features. You glance at Reiji, making sure his attention is on his food before you lower to voice to a furtive whisper. “I threw up in a karaoke room and had to sleep it off at Atsumu’s.”
His immediate instinct is to laugh in your face and he has to bite his lips and quickly look away from you to keep from doing so. You weakly punch his shoulder in response before sitting down at the table. 
But the amusement at your misfortune slowly starts to fade, replaced instead by that same voice, which is growing steadily more familiar. He can’t remember the last time that the two of you had a night like that together. He tries to think back on if it was before or after Reiji was born. And while you certainly don’t make vomiting in karaoke rooms a habit, it’s not at all rare for you and his brother to have a wild night out. 
When the voice asks why you’re having them with Atsumu but not with him, the only thing he can focus on is the knot in the pit of his stomach and how it only seems to grow tighter. 
He hears it again when he’s with Atsumu one day and he asks Osamu what he thinks about you rejecting a new job offer. The question is offhanded — he’s looking at his phone when asks it, barely even giving Osamu a fraction of his attention. 
But Osamu freezes. This is the first that he’s heard about any job offer. He didn’t even know that you were interviewing somewhere else. 
“What job offer?” His voice sounds thin and Atsumu seems to realize that he’s unintentionally stumbled into something much bigger because his thumb stops scrolling and there’s a line of tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there only moments ago. 
“Uh, it’s nothin’ big,” he quickly tries to assure his brother as he puts down his phone and turns to face him fully. “It just happened this week. Some new place made her an offer and she turned it down.”
Osamu merely hums, his expression betraying nothing, but his twin brother knows him too well.
“Look, I’m sure she just hasn’t gotten ‘round to telling ya,” he offers and Osamu can see the slight panic in his eyes. “She had that big meeting. And she’s been lookin’ after Reiji-kun since he’s been sick, right? Things’ve probably just been too crazy fer her to even think about it.”
Every excuse only digs the hole deeper. It’s not just this apparent job that you’ve been pursuing only to turn down that Atsumu knows about. It’s also your hectic work week and how you’ve been taking care of Reiji since the restaurant’s been too shorthanded for Osamu to stay home. 
What’s next? Is he going to mention that you’ve also been so busy the two of you haven’t had sex in almost three weeks? From the guilty look in his twin’s eyes, Osamu would bet good money that he’s already aware. 
On his way home, he tries to think about the best way to raise the subject with you and ultimately decides that there’s no good way to ask, “Hey. Why are ya tellin’ Tsumu things but not yer husband?”
(He knows that’s definitely the wrong way to phrase it, but that little voice won’t say it any other way.)
But when he enters your bedroom he finds you slouched against the headboard, fully passed out with Reiji sprawled on top of you as he clings to you even in his sleep. The light and tv are both still on. You’re obviously exhausted and stretched thin, while Osamu is looking to pick a fight. The guilt he feels is almost crippling. 
It probably hasn’t even occurred to you to mention the job offer with everything else going on. Atsumu is right, which only makes him feel worse. 
He comes toward the both of you and carefully tries to pick Reiji up out of your arms without waking either of you. But he’s only just managed to pry the sick toddler loose when your eyelids flutter open.
It takes you a moment to register what’s happening, still feeling the dregs of sleep, but when you do, you give him the softest smile and it makes him feel like an even bigger piece of shit.
“Did you just get home?” you whisper as you help him lift Reiji off of you. But before he can take your son too far away, you shift over and gesture for Osamu to place him in the middle of the bed. “He’ll cry if he wakes up in his room alone.”
“He doin’ any better?” Osamu quietly asks and does as you ask, gently putting him down before sitting down on your other side on the edge of the mattress. 
“His fever broke a couple of hours ago, so he should be back to normal in a day or two.” The news is a visible relief to you. It’s not just the amount of effort a sick child takes, but also the worry that’s been weighing you down. 
“Wish I coulda been ‘round more to help ya,” he tells you, his guilt about both doubting you and leaving you to take care of Reiji by yourself beginning to peek through.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” you assure him, lifting a hand to run your fingers through his hat hair. “I know that you’re in a bind since Kimura-san quit. I’m the one with the flexible hours and schedule. I really don’t mind. We’re a team.”
He doesn’t deserve you.
“Well, the new part-timer starts next week so things’ll finally calm down,” he offers and something mischievous sparkles in your tired eyes.
“Good. Because when you can finally take some time off, we’re gonna pawn Reiji off on the grandparents. Then you’re gonna make it up to me by spending the entire night making me cum so hard I see stars,” you tell him, your tone leaving no room for argument, as if he would ever want to. 
“I can do that,” he agrees with a grin.
“We haven’t fucked in weeks,” you pout and Osamu can’t hold in his laughter, only for you to slap a hand over his mouth to keep him from waking up Reiji. 
Your own quiet giggles are able to momentarily drown out the small voice reminding him about the job offer that you’ve yet to tell him about. 
But a few weeks later, even after having the house to yourselves for an entire weekend and spending it fucking on every surface that you could like you used to do before Reiji came along, those embarrassing feelings of jealousy are still as present as ever.
You post a series of photos of you and Atsumu at a restaurant. The first picture is of your happy, smiling faces and the matching pair of five-pound gyoza on the table, one in front of each of you. As he swipes through the series, you both look worse and worse as you try to finish your gyoza. When he gets to the final one, you’re proudly holding a certificate from the restaurant for having finished yours in an hour, while Atsumu looks like he’s on death’s doorstep.
He’s so preoccupied swiping back and forth through the photos that when the restaurant door slides open, it startles him so badly that he almost drops his phone entirely. He doesn’t know whether or not to be relieved that it’s Kita coming to drop off a new order of rice rather than a customer who didn’t read the closed sign. 
On one hand, he doesn’t want to deal with a customer while he’s in the midst of indulging that voice that’s slowly becoming a companion. But on the other, dealing with Kita when he’s in a jealousy spiral is even worse.
“Is everything alright? Ya look like ya just got some bad news,” Kita observes with a small frown of concern.
As Osamu assures him that nothing’s wrong, he tries to hurriedly shove his phone into the pocket of his apron. However, it slips from his sweaty hands and skids across the floor of the restaurant where it comes face-up to a perfect stop right in front of Kita’s feet.
He picks it up and when he sees the final picture of you and Atsumu on the screen, he shakes his head in amusement. 
“Atsumu only sent me the picture of them at the start of the challenge,” he wryly says as he slides the restaurant door shut behind him and joins Osamu at the counter. He takes a moment to swipe through the rest of the photos in your post before passing the phone back. “I’m surprised ya didn’t go with ‘em.”
“I wasn’t invited,” he mumbled, vocalizing the bitter thought that’s been taking up so much space in his mind ever since you and Atsumu originally made the plans. But as soon as the words leave his lips, he knows he’s given himself away because he can feel Kita’s heavy gaze on him.
“Did ya ask if ya could join ‘em?” is Kita’s annoyingly reasonable response. After a few moments, Osamu gives the smallest shake of his head, confirming that no, he didn’t ask if he could go with you and his brother. 
“Y’know, yer wife is an amazing woman,” he finally says when it’s clear Osamu has nothing else to offer. “But fer all of her talents, she’s not a mind reader. Just talk to her.”
Osamu groans loudly at how rational Kita is being. He drops his head down to rest his forehead on the countertop, his Onigiri Miya hat flopping off in the process. While he agrees that it’s good advice, there’s still one problem.
“Kita-san…it’s embarrassing,” he protests childishly and he turns his head to the side to look up at his old team captain. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Stop spendin’ so much time with that scrub!’ I’ll sound like an idiot.”
“Just talk to her,” Kita repeats calmly and Osamu can only sigh. “Why don’t ya tell me how Reiji-kun’s been?”
For the rest of the day, Osamu finds himself trapped in an internal debate over whether or not he should take Kita’s advice. The ugly voice in his head insists that he shouldn’t have to say anything at all. If you really love him then you should already know. The more self-conscious part of him keeps warning him of how embarrassed he’ll be when he tells his wife, the mother of his child, the love of his life, that he’s jealous of how much time she spends with his brother. 
But a new voice, one that sounds exactly like Kita, simply asks him if he’s tired of feeling like this. Does he really want to keep harboring this resentment? It’ll only continue to fester and grow until it explodes, hurting everyone he loves. 
So that night, after he’s put Reiji to bed and the dishes are done and the laundry is folded and he has no more excuses left to procrastinate, he collapses next to you on the couch with an exaggerated sigh. You look up at him from your phone with an amused smile, only for it to slightly fall when you see how troubled he looks. 
“What’s going on? Did something happen at work?” you ask, turning to give him your full attention and scooting closer to him so that you can rest a gentle hand on his thigh. 
He shuts his eyes and gives himself a single moment to steel himself before finally letting out the poison that’s slowly been building inside of him for the last few months. 
“I have somethin’ to tell ya and it’s gonna make it seem like I’m fifteen or somethin’,” he says and he knows that if he didn’t sound so serious then you would be making a joke about him having some sort of wet dream and ruining the sheets. Instead, you give his thigh a reassuring squeeze. 
“Lately…fer the last few months…I’ve been feelin’ kinda…jealous.”
There. The words are out there in the world. You’ve heard them. He can go crawl into a hole and wait for the embarrassment to kill him. 
“Jealous? Of what?” 
He hates how concerned you sound. You’re not making light of his admission. You’re not confused. You’re being patient. You’re gentle. You’re so much better than him and his childish pettiness and resentment and jealousy. 
“You and stupid Tsumu,” he grumbles, slouching down even further into the couch. He glances over at you from the corner of his eye and sees the look of surprise on your face. He shuts his eyes again, balling his hands into fists, and tells himself to man the fuck up.
With his nerves now steeled, he takes a deep breath, sits up straight, and turns to fully face you. 
“Look, I know that ya got this weird friendship with Tsumu and that he’s yer best friend. And it’s never been a big deal before, but lately, I dunno…,” he trails off, his gaze darting down before he forces it back up to meet yours. “I’ve just been feelin’ a little…cut out.”
“Osamu,” you murmur, lifting a hand to his face but he quickly takes it between both of his so that he can hold it tight and keep himself steady. 
“I love you and our family and the life we’ve built together. I wouldn’t change any of it fer anything,” he’s quick to assure you, needing you to know that you make him happier than he ever thought he could be. “But sometimes I see ya hangin’ out with Tsumu and havin’ fun and it sounds dumb but, I wish I could see more of that part of yer life.”
You softly repeat his name before you climb into his lap. You wrap an arm around his shoulders to hold him close and pull your other hand from his grasp so that you can cup his cheek with a loving touch. 
“I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel that way,” you tell him. “You’re always gonna come first. I don’t ever want you to feel excluded or like I’m trying to keep the different pieces of my life compartmentalized.”
Just hearing your apology and acknowledgment of the irrational jealousy that’s been plaguing him soothes his insecurities and embarrassment. 
“I want ya to be able to go do things on yer own and do things with Tsumu without feelin’ like ya gotta bring me along every time. But ya just look like yer havin’ fun when yer gettin’ up to stupid things together and I guess, I just wanna have fun with ya too,” he shrugs. Despite how true it is, he hates how cheesy he sounds. But from the way that you’re looking at him with so much affection, you clearly find it touching. 
“I love having fun with you, Osamu,” you smile back at him and his cheeks start to feel warm. “I’d love to do more stupid things with you.”
“Even if that stupid thing is spendin’ 20,000 yen at an arcade to beat a bunch of teens for the high score?” he asks and it comes out shyer than he intended. “Or buyin’ out every flavor of chips and every type of snack from the konbini just to rank ‘em?”
“Even then,” you nod with a grin. “Even if it’s needing to make a cab pull over to throw up after a night of drinking.”
“I thought it was the karaoke room?” he frowns in confusion.
“It was the karaoke room for me. The cab was Atsumu,” you tell him with a laugh and he snorts in response. 
But then, since this is a time for honesty, he decides to bring up the question that’s been weighing heavily on his mind for the last few weeks. 
“Why didn’t ya tell me about the job offer?” he gently asks, the question curious rather than accusatory.
“Job offer?” The line of your mouth twists down and your eyebrows knit together as you try to understand what he’s referring to. 
“Tsumu said ya turned down a job offer. It was around when Reiji was sick,” he explains and his tone turns slightly hesitant. “Did ya feel like ya couldn’t tell me?”
Your eyes spark with recognition before you roll them in annoyance.
“Atsumu’s an idiot. He never listens,” you begin to rant and he’s not too proud to admit that hearing your irritation directed towards his twin extinguishes the last remaining embers of his jealousy. “It wasn’t a job offer. A recruiter reached out about a job opening for a position that involves more work for less pay. I didn’t even reply.”
He feels an odd mixture of relief, guilt, and frustration. He’s relieved that this was just some misunderstanding, but he feels just as guilty for jumping to the worst conclusion and thinking that you were something big from him. The frustration will be dealt with when he next sees his twin and gives him an earful and delivers a slap to the back of his head.
“I’m sorry fer not just askin’ ya ‘bout it sooner,” he says and you just give him a look of understanding. 
“You and me, we’re only human. There are just gonna be times when I forget to tell you something or just don’t think to bother with it. But I’ll always do my best to make sure you know when there’s something going on. We’re a team, remember?” You run your fingers caringly through his hair with a soft smile and he leans eagerly into your touch.
“We’re a team,” he repeats quietly, finding the words comforting. He then gives you a slightly embarrassed look. “Hey, don’t tell Tsumu, okay? He’ll just call me a scrub.”
You place a reassuring kiss on his lips before nodding. 
“Don’t worry. You’re a scrub, but you’re my scrub and I love you.” He can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you close. “But, you wanna do something crazy, huh?”
When he looks up at you, it’s to find a hint of wildness creeping into your expression. It’s the same wildness he used to see when you first started dating — before you both became adults and spouses and parents with real responsibilities. 
The next day, Atsumu stops by the restaurant in the late afternoon during a lull. His appearance is unannounced, meaning that Osamu hasn’t had a chance to prepare himself for what he knows is to come. It’s as bad as he imagined because as soon as the setter walks in, he freezes, his expression going slack in shock at the sight of Osamu.
Or more correctly, at the sight of Osamu’s hair, which has been amateurishly dyed to be the same shade of grey that he used to wear in high school. 
“Don’t even start,” he warns but doing so is pointless because Atsumu immediately bursts into laughter, finding it so funny that he has to clutch his stomach as he bends over. 
“Who’s idea was this?” he manages to ask in between his gasps for air and his cackles. “Ya look so stupid!”
Osamu just stares at him blankly, not bringing up the fact that Atsumu is the one who’s been wearing the exact same hairstyle since they were sixteen, and isn’t that even more pathetic? 
Because for all of the mocking that he receives, he knows it was worth it for the time he spent joking and laughing with you into the late hours of the night in your tiny bathroom as you did your best to dye his hair without burning his scalp.
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mavrintarou · 5 months
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[Daddies in Decembers] Sakusa Kiyoomi
I'm 4 days into December but thought, I should dedicate this month to the daddies being dads lol. This was not supposed to be this long, I can't guarantee that the other characters will have something this lengthy. Enjoy~
Warning: fluffy and dreamy Omi, Omi who knows how to waltz, Omi who is a beast in bed (we all know that though) smut . You met Kiyoomi a few months ago after you found out he was going to be your partner for your friend’s Bridgerton theme wedding. Your first impression of this man was that he was cold and unapproachable. He was always standing at a distance from everyone else and kept to himself.
“It’s normal, that’s Kiyoomi.” Hinako text you. She admitted that out of all the other bridesmaids, you were the best fit for Kiyoomi because of his attitude.
Engaging with people was usually a breeze for you, even when it came to strangers. However, Sakusa Kiyoomi was on another level. Despite your best efforts to connect with him for the sake of the wedding, he remained unyielding. His piercing glares suggested annoyance, and he rarely cracked a smile or engaged in conversation. Moreover, his face was often half-covered underneath a mask 99% of the time. Whenever you tried to start a conversation with him, he would only respond with a simple answer.
You immediately adjusted to his behavior and only engaged in a conversation when needed.
The exact moment you started feeling drawn to Kiyoomi was unclear. Hinako and Youta’s wedding required great preparation. The ten bridesmaid and their groomsmen were expected to learn how to waltz and participate in three of the dances that were part of the reception program.
Your initial waltz class with Kiyoomi was anxiety-inducing. Aware of his strong aversion to germs, you were uncertain about how he would react to holding your hand. Prior to the class, you took extra precautions by washing your hands three times.
It was the first occasion you had witnessed Kiyoomi in casual attire, excluding his sport outfits. Following the instructor’s guidance, he took your hand and encircled his other arm around your waist.
“Let me know if my hand positioning makes you feel uncomfortable,” he mumbled. You assured him he was fine.
Kiyoomi surprisingly showed great skills in waltzing. He picked up the steps and movements immediately and was praised by the instructor for how gracefully his body moved.
“Relax and just follow me,” Kiyoomi commanded softly after you struggled to follow the tune and his steps, stepping on his toes as a result. You looked up and your eyes nearly bulged when he said that he had his mask pulled down below his chin, giving you a full view of his face. “I’ll go at your pace.”
Just like that, two were the first pair to nail the first dance.
Your relationship began to flourish since that day.
You both dedicated extra time outside of dance class for practice, and in the private moments shared between just the two of you, a different side of him emerged – a soft side.
He was gradually growing at ease in your presence, evident in the way he would swiftly discard his mask as soon as he was around you.
“Closer,” Kiyoomi whispered, pulling you right against his body. “Remember, the instructor said we must be more intimate?”
“Waltzing should be intimate, I know you guys aren’t romantic partners but you all should try to put more emotions into it,” said the instructor at their last class.
Nodding your head, you relaxed and tried not to blush even more at how close you two were. You shift your gaze to his coffee table that’s pushed against the wall, anything to distract you from staring at his gorgeous face. The dance studio was closed for cleaning and neither of you knew until you arrived only to be disappointed at the sign on the door.
You were on the verge of suggesting that you guys could reconnect again in a few days, given your upcoming busy schedule with work over the next two days.
“You comfortable… coming to my place? It is nearby.”
You had to refrain from smiling, seeing how he couldn’t look at you in the eyes and his ears were bloodshot red.
“Sure,” you gesture, “lead the way.”
Each dance and song used to be a drag to you, but recently, you’ve discovered that you’re getting lost in the music and the steps, completely immersed in the dance. Before you realize it, you and Kiyoomi find yourself at the end of the waltz breathing heavily, locked in a gaze, deeply connected through the rhythm.
The moment it began was a blur, but gradually, you both discovered comfort and support in each other’s presence, sharing smiles and laughter as you immersed yourself in the dance.
“We did it,” you grinned, realizing that both of you had mastered the dance steps, reaching a point where mistakes were almost nonexistent. From the very beginning to the end, you and Kiyoomi seamlessly executed the waltz.
You aren’t sure if it was a mistake to look into Kiyoomi’s eyes but you did and found yourself lost in his. Your fingers itched to thread through his curls, brush your thumb against the two beauty marks on his forehead.
“Y/n,” he exhaled deeply. You realize it wasn’t due to the dance, as you had already caught your breath.
“… yes?”
His eyes shift lower, you feel them shift to your lips. “Can I – may I… kiss you?” Before you could answer, he quickly withdrew from you, turning away. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “that was stupid of me to ask.”
You closed the distance and tugged his sleeve to turn him around. He looked down at you with a frown and a frustrated expression. You ignored it all but what you couldn’t ignore was realizing how tall he was compared to you at that exact moment.
Looking around, his coffee table was right beside you. Without much thought, you stepped on the table, gripped the collar of his t-shirt, and pulled him towards you before pressing your lips against his.
It was a simple innocent kiss.
Until you were about to pull away but a hand wrapped behind your head, and Kiyoomi’s lips moved over yours in a hungry and deprived kiss.
“Mhmm,” you moaned, hands cupping his face. You move your mouth with his, eagerly meeting his kiss.
You both pulled away, breathless, more breathless than when you two waltzed together.
You pressed your forehead against him, realizing with you standing on his coffee table, you were slightly taller than him.
“S – sorry,” he murmured.
“For what?”
“Kissing you.”
“I kissed you,” you corrected, frowning.
“And then I kissed you.”
“But I’m not sorry?” You retort.
.
Everything shifted from the moment the kiss occurred. In the presence of others, Kiyoomi remained close, yet he retained his stoic expression, and nobody else seemed to discern the shift between the two of you. You found peace in subtle moments, such as when his hand gently brushed against yours or his pinky subtly intertwined with yours – a private exchange that went unnoticed by everyone else.
The wedding came around and before you knew it, it was the real dance.
You faced Kiyoomi, and despite having walked down the aisle alongside him earlier, you found it challenging to fully comprehend how handsome he appeared with his curls styled to the side, dressed in a sharp black suit.
Throughout the wedding, neither of you had the chance to share a moment together, let alone exchange a simple, routine kiss. Every time you two finally found a moment to gaze at each other for longer than three seconds, one of you would inevitably be pulled away for something else.
“You look stunning,” he whispered the moment you two closed the distance and were pressed against one another.
“You look dashing,” you smiled, following his steps.
You twirled around, your back pressed against his chest as you mirrored his steps. Your heart quickened as his hand firmly pressed against your belly instead of his usual place on your waist.
Kiyoomi nudges your head, making you tilt your head, your eyes closing in response as you feel the music and the dance. You felt his nose graze against your ear. In a quiet, low voice, he murmured, “I was starting to lose my patience because I couldn’t catch a second with you.” With that, he spun you back around, guiding the dance with grace. “I just want to be with you.”
For a few seconds, the others around you blurred and you could no longer hear the music. You stared deeply into Kiyoomi’s eyes repeating the words he just said.
In recent nights, you’ve found yourself foolishly attempting to unravel the sexual tension lingering between the two of you. Did he desire it as well, or were you the only one harboring such delusions? These thoughts began to weigh on you, leading to a sense of melancholy as you pondered what would become of your connection once the wedding concluded. You wouldn’t have an excuse to see him anymore.
Shooting your shot, you asked, “do you want to come back to my room tonight?”
Did he understand the hidden meaning behind your question?
What if he shot you down?
He blinked at you as if trying to comprehend what you just asked him.
Your ears began ringing and you felt embarrassed.
“Can we go now?” he asked shyly.
.
“Ahh,” you moaned, back arching as Kiyoomi pounded you from behind. You lost track of time, let alone how many orgasms he has squeezed out of you. “Ki – yomi… Kiyoomi – wait… slow down… ple – please…”
You two made it back to your room and all your clothes were discarded, mixing amongst each other and becoming a trail that led to the bed.
The headboard thumps loudly against the wall. It was the reality for you as to how deep and how hard he was pounding into you.
Your arms and knees gave in as your body collapsed onto the bed. That did not stop Kiyoomi and his movement, if anything, he continued and penetrated you deeper.
You were going to die. You are convinced of that.
“Omi… Omi,” you moaned into the pillow, you tried to lift yourself but it was useless. Each time he thrusted, he penetrated so deep into your body sending you over the edge. You were going to cum again.
The bed shook in waves with his thrusts as he neared his own orgasm. Your body bounced and each time you felt his cock deeper into your pussy.
Kiyoomi’s last thrust stilled and you feel him tremble as he came inside the condom.
His groans were cute, you thought to yourself amid the moment.
“What is funny?”
Did you laugh out loud?
You glance over your shoulder, seeing him tower over your back. His weight was supported by his knees and elbow but he remained deep inside of you.
“You’re a beast, Kiyoomi.”
He burst out laughing before rolling you both over. You ended up falling asleep in his arms, warmed and protected through the night.
.
You had worried for nothing as he asked you to be his girlfriend the next morning. He expressed his worry, the same worry as you, about not seeing each other once the wedding was over.
That was when he realized how he felt about you.
“I like you,” he tells you in his husky morning voice that you instantly fell in love with. “You made me feel things I never felt for anyone.”
“Is that why you set out to make sure I wouldn’t be able to walk this morning?”
He chuckles and you tighten your arm around him.
“I like you too,” you tell him after a few minutes of silence.
Kiyoomi tightened his arms around you and rolled you onto your back. “Say it again.”
“I like you,” you repeated.
It was hard for you to believe that this grinning from-ear-to-ear Kiyoomi was the same one you met a few months ago.
You lean up to kiss him, you love these new discoveries about Kiyoomi, his morning voice, his chuckles, and his smiles.
.
They say it takes about a year for you to learn the true nature of someone but some, you find their true nature a lot sooner.
Sakusa Kiyoomi was not who you thought he was.
The icy and solemn man you initially encountered was far from the one currently resting on your lap, arms embracing your waist, his face nestled into your stomach.
“Don’t stop.”
You hummed while gazing down at the large puppy, thinking he had drifted off to sleep.
Instead of repeating himself, Kiyoomi grabbed your hand and placed it back on his head, wanting you to continue to keep petting him and run your fingers through his curls.
You giggle and continue to keep massaging his scalp, knowing he needs it after a long day of practice and dealing with his teammates.
Your husband of a month and soon-to-be daddy had become even clingier after the life-changing events of your wedding and your pregnancy.
He needed to be beside you at all times, even in the mornings when he was tired and you got up to prepare his lunch. He would grumble and cling on to you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as he watched you. Sometimes in the same position, he would chop up the vegetables while you made his sandwich, all while clinging on to you.
Despite finding it bothersome, you recognized that his love language centered around physical touch, only with you, of course. You endured his behavior because of your affection for him.
. . .
E/n: I try to write about other characters too and not just my usual Omi and Rin.
@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
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