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How are you feeling now, Bon?
Yeah don't worry, they're fine now, when your tummy is full you can't be mad, that's just science fact
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Okay ! Lots of stuff to say here ! There were some details I wasn't sure of about the lore of this mixed UT/ISAT universe, but recently I made myself a little memo of everything and I'm more sure of my stuff. So I made it clear in this one : Chara is here ! And they are here to help....maybe.
Siffrin thoughts and Chara's narration are kinda here at the same time...which must be super confusing to live honestly, but you can still see the difference. I will not develop here why Chara is with Siffrin instead of Frisk, but if you want a small explanation, their wishes mixed together
I personally think that there's a lot of ISAT stuff in this AU and not enough UT, so the next one (the one I really wanted to make for a while) will be more about UT, and it will be out...tomorrow ! Yep, I already started it before I decided to make that one first, so you'll have another answer really soon, whoo oh !
I hope you like this one for now though ! See you soon !
(Also did you notice the new brush I used this time ? I love it honestly, it looks super cool, I think I'll keep it)
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DIALOGUES IN CASE YOU CAN'T READ MY HANDWRITING
1 :
Bonnie : Mh.........
2 :
Odile : Bonniface, I get that you are upset, but can you please be faster ? Even I don't walk that slow
Bonnie : I'm as fast as I can 'dile !...
3 :
Isabeau : Hey, Sif ? Sorry to bother ya but, huh... Could you talk to Bonbon ? I think they might need it...
Siffrin : Huh ? Why ? I'm not really the feelings person of the group
4 :
Isabeau : Listen buddy, I... I don't think I'm the good person to tell you about it. Just...talk to them, okay ? They'll tell you...eventually
Siffrin : Huh... Okay ? I'll go do that...
5 :
Mirabelle : Huh ? Why did we stop ? Siffrin ?
6 :
Siffrin : Heya Bonnie
Bonnie : ...Siffrin. What d'you want ?
7 :
Chara (internally): Oof, wow, such a sweet kid. They even "Siffried" you
Siffrin : It seems that you're still angry since you flee earlier, and that it's...kinda my fault ? I'm not sure to really understand, but huh, I'm sorry, for whatever happened. I didn't wanted to upset you.
8 :
Bonnie : Huh uh. Yeah, sure. I forgive you
Siffrin (internally) : It doesn't sound like they do though...
9 :
Chara (internally) : Stars, that kid sure is difficult ! Just continue okay, they are not worth it
Siffrin : ...
10 :
Siffrin : Hey Bonnie ?
Bonnie : Hum ?
Siffrin (internally) : No, no don't say that. They'll ALWAYS be worth it
11 :
Siffrin : What if I tell you that I still have a piece of Toriel's pie in my secret pockets. What d'you say ?
Siffrin (internally) : In every loop, every fun changes, you party will always be more important. If you have to proceed, it will be with them
12 :
Bonnie : ...Well. First, I say that it sounds super gross to keep pie in your pockets just like that
13 :
Bonnie : ...And then I say that I want it
14 :
Siffrin : There you go !
Bonnie : Thanks...
15 :
Siffrin (internally) : ...You know, it's nice to have new interactions with them. They almost became actual persons again, you even remember their names !
16 :
Bonnie : What ? WHAT ?! Why are you laughing ?! You makin' fun of me ?!!
17 :
Siffrin : No no, just thought you look like a bunny when you eat, a "Bonny" hehe. That's cute
Bonnie : GAASP. So you are makin' fun of me !
18 :
Bonnie : But huh, actually, I'm not mad at you somehow, guess it's because of the pie
Siffrin : Oh ? Really ?
Bonnie : Yeah, it's just that good
Siffrin : Huh, good to know
19 :
Bonnie : Yeah yeah, just go back to your place now. And stop being an idiot !
Siffrin (internally) : I guess they are okay now ?
Siffrin : Haha, okay okay
#underthestars#in stars and time#in stars and time crossover#isat#isat crossover#undertale ask blog#isat fanart#isat siffrin#isat isabeau#bonnie isat#isat odile#siffrin#isat mirabelle#mirabelle isat#in stars and time isabeau#odile#in stars and time odile#in stars and time siffrin#undertale#undertale art#undertale fandom#undertale crossover#undertale au#ut au#undertale alternate universe
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I Can’t Fall In Love
Summary : Screwed over time and time again you swore your heart away from the idea of love. Not realizing how truly weak it is for the genius right in front of you.
"Pen I can't do this anymore! I'm done..." Practically wailing it out you gripped the fluffy little figurine begging for some type of release. "I love you my love but please spare my friend that poor torture." Snatching it from your hands you let you a torturous sigh. Done with simply everything.
"This isn't fair I did so much for him." Penelope motioned to her computer which you waved off. Knowing she's always willing to hack his stuff and leave petty messages behind. You're trying to be above that. Trying really hard at that.
"What did he do this time. I swear all the men you date always are so shady." Taking a deep breath in you know what Pen might do if she finds out. But to be fair she'll always find out some way or another. "He cheated on me...with his sister who I at least thought was his sister. But y'know wasn't." The yell that Penelope let out was loud as she shared your anger now. "He did what!" Nodding painfully as you recount finding them in your house, in the room you pay for, and in the bed, you paid for. It hurts. A lot. "Are you ok though my sweets? I know you're probably angry, but you don't even seem to acknowledge the fact that you can be sad." Was it the profiler in her that her team without realizing instilled into her. Or were you that obvious. It can be both. "I don't know Pen... it's just - I'm tired of being sad men after men." The ache in your heart is there, but that's a can of worms you don't want to open at your workplace. "But I'm going to make this promise to myself to not even dare to ever fall in love!" You said confidently as Penelope couldn't believe a single word you said. She loves you and you know that. But she can also see the avoidant nature you tend to have. Reminding her of a special little someone.
"What if I set you up with someone I know! He's a total catch in the terms of nerdy but still a catch!" Shaking your head you made a loud incorrect buzzer noise. "Nope! Not falling in love! Thank you though for looking out for me. Maybe we can talk about it -" Interrupting your sentence you both heard someone knocking on the door and a head of brown curls peeked his head in. "Um Garcia? Hotch is looking for you." He acknowledged your presence with an awkward smile as he looked at Penelope expectantly. "This is the person I was telling you about. This is our resident boy genius, Spencer Reid! He loves to read books, and I know you do to - you used to play chess in elementary he still plays! And he has an IQ of -!" Putting your hand up to stop Penelope from embarrassing the two of you guys. You waved at Spencer with an awkward smile of your own. Is it obvious Penelope was setting you guys up. Hopefully not.
Considering he's fucking cute. "Y/N. I'm Penelope's friend down at the reception desk." Totally needed to add that part so he can totally not see me there and say hi himself.
"Ah. I'm also Penelope's friend obviously we work in the same team I mean I feel like that's kind of obvious I'm sorry you probably know that. She probably told you if anything not that the-."
"Ok! Um someone is totally not rambling, let's catch up next time ok! You have to tell me what that pathetic little -" Rambling about what she might do to your ex you just let out a short chuckle at her words. Meeting his eyes you gave him a small smile back. "Ok bye you guys! It was nice meeting you Reid." Waving bye at him, he had barely put up his hand when you already walked out.
You can accept a man is cute. He's definitely not your type but he totally can be...
Shaking your head you rushed to your desk hoping your coworker isn't too mad that you left him for a while. Pushing all thoughts of the awkward smiling guy in a locked box.
-
It was weird it's been 3 months since meeting the resident genius of the FBI. And you can't look at him in his stupid eyes. His stupid cute face. When you do run into him it’s very stiff conversation and you hate how it makes your day. And vice versa. You give him energy he thought he couldn’t get. Showing your painfully slow progress sometimes you’re greeted with a cup of coffee. A order he learned through trial and error. But when he saw the smile that was etched into your face as you got your favorite order. He will grow those coffee beans by his own hand if it means seeing you continuously smile like that. He didn’t expect anything in return and you smile every time you think about it. For once nobody expected anything from you.
But when you come you’re reminded of those memories. Memories you wish to burn.
So you've been stuck. To the point where Penelope is checking in on you every day. Encouraging you to go out. Is it worth it?
Staring at the popcorn ceiling it felt weird being all dressed up but feeling nothing. No happiness, no sadness, no more anger. You're just tired. The excessive of beeping on your phone never stops. Maybe that's why your phone is practically dead all the time. Opening it it's the same messages you always see.
Please I'm so sorry I didn't mean it It was one time Just answer your fucking phone y/n stop being stupid just answer your fuc-
Shaking your head you got up to get into your uber that finally arrived. Tired. Blocking this random number again, he never stops. And you don't think he ever will. You haven't told Penelope the excessive messages you know she'll probably cross lines that you really don't want her to do. Trying to gather what social battery you have left to meet her friends. Or well her team.
Entering the surprisingly loud bar, you checked your phone trying to follow her directions. "Y/N!" A muffled voice from afar and you see the excitable blonde. "Come here!" You take in the group beside her. 2 older men who seem to be talking to each other not favoring the club setting that this bar took up. 2 other girls were next to her which you only remember the name of Emily. Not knowing which one is which. And finally, the man you've been avoiding. He's talking to another man who seems to be teasing him. But his brown eyes were meeting yours. Nervous flickering as he listened to his friend but looking at you. And only you. "Hey Pen!" Giving her a hug she does the introductions. It's hard to listen.
Just following Pen's footsteps you listen in to the story they exchange and generally talking about their life. Derek had left to go dance with Penelope, JJ and Emily had also gone to dance with one another. Who you learned was Rossi ended up leaving a little earlier. Seems like Hotch did the same considering you haven't seen him in a while. It's easy to do the math. Taking a sneaky peek next to you, there he was. His leg was bouncing nervously fueling your nerves just the same. The shots at your table are going to waste as you finally grabbed another one. "Y-You might want to slow down." His nervous voice made you pause. Looking over at him confused he cleared his throat. "You already took 3 shots within the hour and a half of being here. Not that I'm telling you what to do exactly. But it's just women tend to get drunk faster and obviously I would have to take into account your height and weight - I-I just want you to be careful." He finished with a stiff nod. Was it three shots already? You feel your phone buzzing into your pocket tiring you again, can't even enjoy a cute guy telling you to be careful. Tilting your head back you finished the shot.
"I'm sorry I'll cut myself off now." Not wanting him to think you're a drunk you took a sip out of your water right after. "It's not that it's just I want you to be careful, that's all." Nodding you guys fell into an awkward silence if you can even call it silence. It's a crime that this bar is basically a club now. "Have you played chess?" Surprising he's still talking to you, kind of scared that he finds you bad company. You nod your head, "Yeah back in elementary in some stupid little team." You chuckled a little at the memory remembering playing against your classmates but totally cheating so we both can get the vouchers. "Not anymore though?" Confirming his question with just a nod it seemed like he was stuck in his thoughts. "Do you play in like tournaments and stuff?" He immediately shook his head. "I only play for fun it's better that way."
"Would you show me how to play again if I ask?" You can see you caught him off guard with the question. Liquid courage as you want to call it. "Not a date obviously but to get to know each other better." He deflated at that. But you weren't able to see that as the phone distracted you when you pulled it out. Maybe it's better this way, he shouldn't test his luck. Maybe just being around you is enough. Considering he noticed the numerous of times you would go the opposite direction if you saw him. Maybe this is enough?
He didn't mean to peek it seems like your limbs didn't want to work with you that well anymore. Letting him take an accidental peek at your phone. Seeing the mass text messages sent to you reading what he can. He was the worst person to see it considering he read it all in practically seconds. But he knows now he doesn't want you to be surrounded with that. He knows you should have more. "We can set up whatever time that's works best for you."
-
Shit shit shit shit shit! Can you really call it a date? I mean you have to at this point. Here you are clothes sprawled all over your room as you tried so many different things. Some were too date-like, some too casual like. Going to watch a Greek play that Reid promised to translate it has to be a date?
Hearing a knock at your door it was pathetic really how you sprinted to it. Opening the door with a grin it quickly diminished seeing who was there. "Why are you so dressed up?" Not wanting to answer him you immediately tried to shut the door before he shoved his foot at the doorstep. Making his way in your eyes carefully watched him. Scared of anything setting him. "Mark what are you doing here?" "I keep on texting you and you refuse to answer." Scoffing you shake your head staring at him with disgust. "I can't believe you. Just get the fuck out. I've already been dealing with your messages for 6 months now! I've shown you kindness by not reporting you!" It was easy to see that he practically ignored your words as you fiddled with the doorknob begging him to leave. Spencer was going to be here at any point. And that weird feeling of embarrassment or even shame was filling you. Ashamed that you still don't have your life together considering your ex is practically being a stalker and you still haven't reported him.
"Y/N I miss you. Please just one more shot swear you won't regret it! C'mon will you really find someone like me?" In awe at his ego, you let out a laugh of disbelief. How the hell did you end up with someone like him. Glad you got out of the shitshow of a relationship you were in.
"Are you fucking laughing at me?" His booming voice is something you don't miss. And it always terrified you. "Obviously because genuinely who the fuck do you think you are."
"You stupid bitch I sw-" Taking huge strides to you, the fear made you want to run. But he was immediately at your side as you tried stumbling away. Feeling his hand wrap around your arm as you winced feeling him tighten it.
"Y/N?" A softer voice was heard just right outside the door. It was still open and you immediately knew it was Spencer. Your savior. Glancing up at your ex you see the anger swirling in his eyes, giving you a accusatory glare.
"Who the fuck are you?" Within a moment Spencer rushed into the apartment almost hitting you and your ex in the process. He was surprised to hear a male voice come from your apartment especially one sounding so hostile. The position you guys were in was everything but normal. You didn't even realize but Spencer can see it. The tears in your eye were welling up and the desperation laced with it, Spencer just can't unsee. "You need to get out." With a firm voice Spencer stayed unmoving as he stared at your ex. Who seemed to be beyond pissed. "Excuse me?" With a swift motion Spencer took out his FBI badge showing it to your ex. "I don't want to repeat myself. I can have you arrested just as quickly so do yourself a favor and leave. " He never really likes using his badge in scenarios out of field. But he knows your ex wouldn't listen otherwise.
Dropping your hand aggressively, Spencer was quickly at your side cradling your arm. The exact opposite of what your ex had done. Giving you one last look he slammed the door shut echoing throughout the apartment.
"Are you ok?" He didn't waste a second as he took extra care of your arm trying to see the extent of it. And it's that damn question, looking down as you tried hiding behind your hair. A very weak attempt. The tear fell unapologetically. All those feelings came out as you ripped your arm away from Spencer. Letting yourself cry into your hands. He didn't know what to do. He was scared that he was going to say the wrong thing. He knows of your situation but he didn't know the extent of it. And he wishes he can take it all away for you. "Do you want a hug?" With tears still streaming down your face, you glanced up at him in confusion. "Reid, you don't even like handshakes... not that I care but I feel like a hug is very out of left field." Agreeing with you immediately he tried not pushing the boundary. "Yeah, obviously germs can be shared especially since you're crying. But you're sad and I want to make you feel better. Even if it means a hug." Tears continue to fall at his sweet words knowing that this is probably something he psyched himself into doing. "If you want, I'll only hug you for a minute?" He motioned you to get closer and it was the most awkward hug you've ever had. But it was the only hug that has made you feel seen, comforted. It's not his favorite thing in his world, but as he caressed your hair letting you cry into his vest that took him too much time to pick out worried, he won't impress you. He didn't mind that the tears were being etched into it as you found comfort in his arms. Thats all he wanted. To be your rock. He might not know everything about you but he's willing to wait around to find out. You make it worth it. Your eyes, your smile, your sarcasm, everything. The fact that you were willing to watch a play you would have no idea what is being said, but willing to indulge into his wants. Thats enough for him.
As the minute went by it became clear that you took more comfort in his arms than he suspected. And he didn't mind as he heard your cries start to quiet down and just the small jumps of your shoulder signifying your calming down. "I'm sorry Spencer... I know you were really excited for the play. But I don't think we can go out anymore...obviously." Pointing at yourself and your wrecked appearance. "It doesn't matter."
"You say they come only every 5 years to perform just go and enjoy it."
"I'm ok we can catch it in the next 5 years we have all the time in the world." He said happily as he looked around your apartment. Entranced by the decorations as everything screamed you. "Is there a movie you want to watch? I can go get us some snacks or maybe order some takeout. You shouldn't waste your outfit." He didn't notice but you were trying your hardest not to cry at his kindness. You can't love him you just can't. You already seen all the men in the world. All they do is hurt you. And your fear of Spencer being one of them is killing you. You can't love him.
"Do you want fast-food or sushi?" It won't hurt to at least have a friend. - "Spence stop!" Giggling you were at the other end of the couch trying not to get caught in his arms. He had his arms out at the other side going left or right trying to catch you. "Say you're sorry then!" Uncontrollably laughing you shake your head between breaths.
"I can't! I won't mean it." Shrieking as he went over the couch to grab you, you run into your kitchen trying to expand the distance between the two of you. It was futile.
Yelling with laughs in between he wrapped his arms around you before swinging you around. "Spence! Please! I'm sorry don't drop me!" You know if he somehow did let you slip, he would immediately use his body as a cushion to soften the blow. That was the kind of man he was. Softly letting you down your laughs mixed with one anothers in a melody only you two can understand and enjoy.
You both were falling for each other. Hard.
It’s the type of feeling where you guys tittered the edge of something more. But you always pulled yourself back. It was the only way where you can breathe in peace. Knowing Spencer won’t have that edge over you, you won’t be vulnerable to him. “Are you going to cook for us again?”
“Obviously - do you not like my cooking or something?” Before he can respond your phone started to buzz. Excessively. “Can you get that for me? It might be Pen telling me about how Kevin is annoying her.” Getting started on dinner you settled with a pasta dish not exactly being a chef.
It was silent for too long as you looked up from the pot of water as his eyebrows were furrowed. Almost as if he was angry. “Spence you good?”
“It’s Mark. I’m going to let Hotch know he broke his restraining order he might have someone that can actually make sure he gets punished.” Mood somewhat dampening you thanked him quietly as you continued dinner. “Don’t overthink it please, You don’t need to worry.” You feel him behind you making you turn around to face him. He brought his hands up caressing your cheek with a content smile. “I swear to you I will make him stop. No matter what I do.”
I like you.
So much.
Those thoughts swirl his head as he stared at your face as your eyes were closed happily.
He wants to give you everything and more. The thought of letting you is too much for him.
-
“And they were roommates…” Penelope said ominously as you pushed her playfully. She giggled as she poked at your sides excitedly. She looked around the room with a bright smile on her face as she took everything in. “I love how you decorated the place obviously this was all you?” Nodding you’re happy that you got creative freedom in decorating - it feels more like home. Home 2.0.
“I brought you guys snacks.” Turning around you see Spencer with a big grin and an equally big bag of treats. “Spencer Reid I swear you are the love of my life.” Grabbing the hefty bag you passed over her snacks. Not realizing the look that Penelope threw at Spencer. Him quickly shushing her as you passed Spencer his snacks. “I need to go already my sweets. Date night I need to be ready!” Saying our byes you pulled Spencer over to the couch getting comfortable.
“You like it?” Motioning to the walls/the general room. “Of course I do. You just have the special touch like this one artist..” He proceeded to compare you to some artist you’ve never heard of but you just loved to hear him talk. “Do you want to lay down?”
It’s routine, asking is just a curtesy. Your head hit his lap comfortably as he positioned the pillows how you liked it.
“Are we going to continue that conversation we were having before she came?” You said looking at him from his lap. He loves how you look from there. Just happy, innocent. He hates to know that your ex took that from you for so long.
Getting more comfortable he cleared his throat knowing he can’t forget the conversation you were just having. “I would never hurt you Y/N.” Already living with each other for a year you guys are finally having that talk. Caressing your cheek like how he always will he admired the face he will be waking up next to. “I know simply saying it won’t take away your fears, but I want to show you. And I will. Because I adore you Y/N. You help me look forward to tomorrow. You give me a drive for us to finish our cases faster so I can get home, to you. And only you.” Smiling softly at him you played with his fingers. Dancing with one another’s hands you admired him. You never thought you could like someone so much. It drives you insane that he’s doing this to you. But you can’t help but be glad that it’s him and no one else.
“Do you swear Spence?”
“Swear on everything.” Kissing your hand softly he helped you sit up as you leaned. He helped you more times you can count. He waited. And waited. Without expecting anything.
You didn’t want to fall in love. Who would? But as you stare at the love-sick fool in front of you. With the dorkiest smile adorning his lips you can’t help but lean in letting your lips press against his. An act of love finalizing what you guys are. Lovers. And you wouldn’t want anything more.
#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds
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guys you can try to convince me of this movie's potential merits all you want but i need you to keep in mind that you're talking to someone who has consumed literally every piece of non-game zelda media ever released. any comic or film or show you want to cite as a good adaptation they've done before i have read or watched. i made a two hour video about it. i know exactly what their past attempts at adaptation have looked like. i have seen both the best and the absolute worst nintendo has to offer. and i truly think there is no way we get a good movie out of this
#like respectfully. if you try to talk to me about comics that you admit you have not read as an example of well-executed talking link#you're just going to make me angry. sorry. i have read them. i have read and watched EVERYTHING.#I HAVE READ THE JAPANESE CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE BOOKS.#personal#i know this seems insane and pretentious and its because it IS. I HAVE SEEN EVERYTHING. I PROMISE YOU
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if i may complain for a bit about something that doesn't actually matter and can be easily avoided. god i hate fics that baby-fy chuuya
#yeah yeah i know just don't read them w/e. there's no tags to avoid these unfortunately 😐#it kinda feels like a fanon of fanon. it's so far removed from his canon self even if some core elements are there.#why write him like a 15 y/o even as an adult. and the thing is. even when he was 15 in canon he wasn't this childish. c'mon.#a lot of the most popular skk fics have him characterized like this and man I'm tired. look how they massacred my boy.#ok complaining session over. i feel like i sound kinda mean. sorry abt that.#it doesn't actually matter that much just a bit frustrating when it keeps happening when you're already a couple hundred words into a fic#edit: i lied I'm not done complaining i gotta turn this into a rant bc ppl misunderstanding my favorite character online is a crime.#childish was the wrong word for me to use ig it's more like. innocent.#girl. bestie. he has been part of criminal organizations quite literally since he remembers himself.#he is not some sweet uwu baby who's a bit of a tsundere or w/e. he's got genuine reasons to be angry yknow. he's been through shit#and he's not innocent? he's in the fucking mafia lol we literally see him kill like 20 people in 5 minutes at 15 y/o.#he's not naive either???? he may not be dazai levels of smart but he's still capable of figuring things out himself????#like he did figure out rimbaud's thing by himself. he's not stupid or slow. he wouldn't be a mafia executive otherwise.#and that's also the reason he can't be naive like... he is in constant danger after all#and idk watering down all this^ for aus is boring and turning him into practically an oc but it's even worse in canonverse#or literally any au where he suffers the same amount as he does in canon. bc then what's your excuse for watering him down.#it feels like forcing him into this very clear cut mold you see in every media when he is literally. not that.#no one in bsd is honestly that's part of its charm imo. they all subvert your expectations of their character archetypes#i think this is why it's making me so angry bc it doesn't feel like just misunderstanding the character but also the whole story. in a way.#am i going too far? perhaps. i dunno. i do feel less Dirty after letting out this frustration tho.#complaining session is now officially over okay. yes. sorry. i don't mean to offend anyone sorry if i sound mean at any point.
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idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)
like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.
and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.
ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."
you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.
fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.
what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?
how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!
you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--
you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--
and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.
face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.
when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.
"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."
you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.
"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"
you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.
"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."
you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--
"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."
when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.
"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."
"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.
"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"
#idk what this is#but i saw a pic of ghost and i had to be gross about him for a couple hundred words sorry#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon thoughts#ghoap x reader
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Roomie!sukuna doesn't even get horny for anyone other than you anymore. You have the wettest, nastiest pussy he's ever seen- and he deserves the best so nobody but you will do. You're fucking so many other fine men now that you dont even give him a second glance when he walks out the shower in just a towel to tease you. And oh, his temper when one of your hookups pick you up and you don't come home for the weekend. Or even worse, they stay for the weekend. Sukuna has never let a girl sleep over at the apartment but now there are two colognes in the bathroom, two pairs or men's shoes at the door, and he can almost never see you in the living room without some other man hanging off your side
read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2 part 4
he’s literally so embarrassingggg it’s not even funny. he’ll walk around and flex his muscles, smirk on his puffy lips as the water drips down his ripped torso. he stands outside your open door, you’re looking down at your phone deciding on whether to spend the night at choso’s or nanami’s (pick choso, nanami gets up at like 5 am 🙄), “showers empty..” sukuna basically purr’s, resting his arm on the doorway.
and you literally could not give less of a fuck💀
you just nod, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as you focus on putting both their names in a generator and letting that choose your fate for the night. let’s just say sukuna was extremely angry when a motorcycle pulls up and you just giggle and hop onto it, kissing the stupid leather clad boy while throwing on the custom bikers helmet choso had made for you. and to top it off, sukuna had to physically restrain himself from blowing up your phone on where the fuck you are??
messages;
ryo<3: didn’t see you this morning
you: i’m staying with choso for the weekend! sorry, should’ve told you last night:/
you: i also won’t be home after wednesday satoru is taking me to this festival! i’ll send pics😋
ryo<3: have fun 👍
omfg he’s losing it. he literally will spend the whole time in the gym, refusing to be in the empty apartment for longer than eight hours for sleep. he feels like there’s a cement brick in his chest when you’re whisked away by these men. but nothing is worse than when he stays over.
he being satoru.
it was becoming a huge issue. his longest “sleepover” was a week. a week where you weren’t even home for half of it. but sukuna was. he was there for all of it.
there was now a third toothbrush taking up countertop space in the bathroom, he would find satoru’s clothes in the wash (which would always somehow be in there whenever ryo specifically had to use it??), and gojo absolutely loved to make out with you everywhere but inside of your room and sukuna started to hated it. publicly claiming you in front of the guy who literally made it possible🙄 unbelievable.
let’s just say you take a break from bringing satoru over, doing your best to settle the tension at home. but sukuna couldn’t let it go, not when he stares at the stupid fucking blue electric toothbrush and knows that it’s only temporary.
at this point he didn’t even give a fuck about the other guys, you can keep them as long as he’s added onto your roster.
it’s been a while since the two of you had a movie night. something that used to, at the very least, happen once a month has been delayed due to your extra activities. the two of you relaxed into the couch, the movie was a random one you found choosing whatever looked the best by cover and for the first time in a while, sukuna felt like he had you.
“did you buy the candy?”
“shit, yeah. i think i left it in my room?”
“go get it while i make the popcorn!” you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling excitedly. you looked so cute and soft, and ryo got a glimpse of your cute pink panties when you bent over to grab something so he was feeling just as good. he could already picture the little damp spot he’d create after teasing you and then force you to beg and make it up to him.
he thought about it the whole walk to his room, picking up the bag and then back to the living room, fantasizing about what he plans to do. and just as he’s about to turn the corner, a head of white fluffy hair is laying on your lap, legs spread to take up the full length of the couch. and the only seat available? the one farthest from you.
“i hope you don’t mind, satoru said he missed us!”
us… sukuna looked down at gojo, looking at the content quirk in his lip while he snuggled into you more, moving one of your hands into his hair to play with it. ryo’s eye twitched before he put the bag down and went back into his room, the door slamming behind him. the noise makes you force satoru up, a pit forming in your stomach. you didn’t want sukuna to feel uncomfortable in his own house—
“damn, what’s he so mad abo- he got macha kitkats!? mmm~”
*bonus*
sukuna is literally in his room about to dry heave because??? what alternative version of himself gave him such bad karma?!? in his room like this;
but quietly, because he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to see him like this. such a fein🤦♀️
a/n: i didn’t put smut because i didn’t want to get repetitive BUT should we finally let sukuna get a taste?? part 4 where he finally gets her?? lmk🫶
*not edited*
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#chubby reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk smut#gojo satoru#jujutsu satoru#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#jjk sukuna smut#sukuna smut#smut#ryomen sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#poc reader#jjk sukuna x reader#jjk choso#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk asks#anon ask#ask me anything
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YOU OWE ME - LN
warnings: none, just fluff (inspired by that one CL stream). this is so short pls forgive me
(also, anyone else seen the pics of lando in aus? FERAL for that man.)
“tier 1 sub - max can you tell lando to get off his computer and let me in the flat please im freezing” max reads out, bursting into laughter, “youre in trouble mate.”
max hears a travelling shout of swearing, getting quieter as lando’s headset is thrown to the desk and his entire body hurtling towards the front door.
“shit shit shit shit,” lando shouts, his fingers struggling with the keys left on the inside of the door. finally he manages to unlock the door and pull it open to see his girlfriend, rosy cheeked and a less than impressed expression.
“lando, how many times have i said to take the keys out of the door if you lock it and im not home - especially if youre not going to answer your phone.”
“im sorry baby, im sorry i know - i forgot,” he mumbles, his hands taking yours and bringing them to his face. he flinches slightly at the sheer coldness of your fingers, “do you want a drink? hot chocolate? tea? coffee? it’ll warm you up”
“i’d love a cup of tea,” you smile sadly, shrugging your horribly thin jacket off. honestly, with the typical english winter, your jacket was almost useless in combatting the cold winds anyways. you move to follow lando into the kitchen, watching him fill the kettle and move to grab a mug from the cupboard.
“come here,” you say, opening your arms slightly for lando to move into. he moves to you instantly.
“you’re not angry at me?”
“no, i am. youre just warm” you say, looking up to smile at him. his hands fall to your waist, gripping your hips and hoisting you up to sit on the counter, but he doesn’t move back into your embrace. instead, his arms move to take his hoodie off himself, and pull it over your head.
“better?”
“slightly,” you're still smiling at him as you adjust the hoodie - lando can tell you're not angry at him, just slightly irritated.
“the heating’s on, my office is warm - you wanna go sit in there whilst i finish your tea, angel?” he asks, his hand stroking your cheek, “max is on call if you wanna talk to him for a bit? he’s streaming but you already know that,” he grins, his tongue sticking into the side of his cheek.
“i think max’s chat deserve to know how bad of a boyfriend you are,” you joke, hoisting yourself off the counter, ready to march on in and complain to the stream. lando’s hand catches your arm, spinning you back into his chest. his hand comes back to your cheek, and tilts your head back.
“im sorry baby, you know i am,” he frowns slightly - you reassure him that he is forgiven by pressing a small kiss to his lips. once again you go to move, but he pulls you back in, kissing you again - repeatedly pecking kisses all over your face and eventually your lips. his tongue swipes your bottom lip, begging for more. you pull your head back slightly, desperate to go and rat him out to max but his teeth nip down on your bottom lip again to prolong the connection.
“i don’t think so, lan,” you giggle, smiling up at him again. lando groans and swears you almost skip your way to his office, excited to tell max as he prepares for a night of grovelling.
“max. you’ll never believe this man,” you sigh, after popping lando’s headset on your own head.
“y/n! how are you?”
“freezing, max. and £10 poorer now i’ve had to sub to your twitch to be let into my own flat.”
“oh yeah, thanks for the sub,” max laughs out, looking at the chat, “it’s ok, chat reckon you should invoice lando for the inconvenience.”
“i think i might have to you know, although he’s making me a cup of tea right now and i might be able to pout my way into a takeaway tonight.”
“y/n that man is so whipped i don’t think you need to pout your way into him doing anything for you,” he responds, his emphasis on anything making you grin slightly.
minutes later, lando comes into the room, using his foot to kick the door open in front of him, his hands full with your mug and your lip balm. hang on, lip balm?
“here you go baby,” he says, placing the mug down on the coaster on his desk, “i put honey in it for your throat, and i brought your lip balm ‘cos your lips are dry,” he grins as he hands you the lip balm.
“my lips wouldn’t be dry if you’d answered the phone the first time i rang you,” you say, the eye roll evident in your voice, even to max who couldn’t see your face.
“hang on, y/n, how does he know your lips are dry?” max interrupts, his laugh travelling through the headset.
“because max, when two people love each other very muc-”
“ew stop it,” lando interjects, as he sets up a second set of headphones to join in the chat.
“he’s trying to regain my love with physical affection.”
“i can tell from your tone that it’s not working.”
“well, after that ‘ew’ i think i may have to revoke all physical affection.”
“you wouldn’t,” lando gasps, his hands dramatically clutching his chest.
“order dominoes and ill reconsider. you owe me.”
“yeah lando, and send her £10 to cover the cost of the twitch sub,” max shouts, siding with you, “chat also think you should, as a courtesy.”
you don’t say anything, but turn to look at him, puppy dog eyes and a pout to complete the look.
“fine! fine,” he laughs again, holding his hands up in surrender, “i was going to offer anyways.”
“sure you were,” you and max manage to say simultaneously.
-
an hour later, your food had arrived and your saying goodbye to max and his chat, as lando goes to the door. however, by the time you shuffle into the living room, lando has began setting up netflix, sat next to a mound of blankets he’d brought in from your bedroom.
“hey you, come ‘ere,” he says, leaning his back against the arm of the sofa and tapping the space between his legs. once you were settled, your back resting on his chest, he leans to grab the pizza box on the coffee table in front of you - it went down quickly.
“funny how hungry you get when you’re left shivering in the freezing cold for hours," you think out loud.
“it wasn’t hours and i didn’t do it on purpose y/n,” lando whines, scoffing slightly at the time embellishment, absentmindedly playing with your fingers as he did.
“i know baby, i’m sorry. you’re forgiven,” you start to feel bad for him. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, before manoeuvring you both further down the sofa until he’s laying completely flat, and you roll over so that your head can lay on his chest. the two of you lay in silence for a few moments, the tv still playing quietly in the background, and you feel his chest moving with every breath.
lando's hands wander underneath his your hoodie, and begin to trace small shapes on your skin, making you shiver slightly. then, a thought hits you.
“someone needs to make a compilation of F1 drivers accidentally locking their girlfriends out because they’re streaming,” he laughs as you say it, your whole body shaking from the shuddering of his laughing, "it seems to happen more than you'd think."
“hey! i wasn’t streaming - max was, i was just there. AND! i paid you back, charles never paid his girlfriend back for the sub.”
“oh, aren’t you generous.”
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#propertyofwicked
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hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.
i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?
i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.
i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.
i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.
the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.
i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.
the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.
how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.
i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.
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strange perfections
in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!
series masterlist
fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses
The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf.
Stupid scarf, you think.
Stupid door.
Stupid wind.
Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient.
You look at the stack of papers and sigh.
Stupid Lord Byron.
Stupid cafe.
Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly.
One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable.
Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust.
Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance.
Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once.
Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café.
As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk.
It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor.
Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here.
“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up.
“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”
The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you.
“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”
You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that.
Think of something normal to say!
“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”
You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.
“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”
You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?
“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”
He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing.
“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”
Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?
But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out.
“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”
He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles.
All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go.
Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone.
“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot.
“How did you do that?”
His cheeks turn slightly pink.
“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”
“How did you read that fast?”
“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”
You scoff, taking another look through the stack.
“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”
The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently.
“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”
Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble.
“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”
“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look.
“Does that make it better?”
“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”
You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels.
“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second.
“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”
“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”
He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself.
He was totally in love with me.
And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again.
All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while.
The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it.
I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café.
What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi!”
Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout.
He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer.
Spencer. Spencer.
It feels important.
“I see you’ve upgraded.”
“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”
“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”
“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away.
Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you.
Spence.
Reality sets in.
“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”
It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk.
“I am a creature of habit.”
Another wave as he walks away.
The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way.
“Who was that?”
“Uh… I don’t actually know.”
Yeah. Reality definitely sets in.
Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up.
Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality.
Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.
But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character.
He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination.
This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression.
“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”
Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading.
Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more.
“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”
You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?
While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table.
“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin.
“Uh… hi?”
“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”
“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”
That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real.
“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”
“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”
“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”
What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—
“Garcia!”
Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed.
Adorable? Get a grip.
“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”
“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges.
You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?
“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.
“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”
“Yeah! Um, definitely!”
“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”
“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”
“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley.
Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents.
So that’s cool.
You’re cool with that.
Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer.
“Hotch?”
“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers.
“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet.
Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again.
You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it.
Nah. Boys are dumb.
You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it.
It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?
But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone.
He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line.
Weird.
You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?
“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”
It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it.
He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second.
“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”
“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”
“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”
“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”
He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless.
“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”
It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long.
“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”
“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”
Your brow furrows and you laugh.
“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”
“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”
You say it before you can think too hard.
“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”
And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid.
After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice.
One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.
It ceases. And then it starts again.
Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible.
“Do you think you should…”
His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air.
“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”
You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company.
But his job is important.
“What if you have a case?”
“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”
Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.
“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”
As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present.
“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”
Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer.
You balk.
“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”
“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”
“Where would this hanging out take place?”
Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits.
“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”
He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly.
“Restaurants.”
There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.
“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”
You look down. God, your face feels warm.
“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”
Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now.
“I would.”
More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted.
Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair.
“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”
“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”
Spencer chuckles.
“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”
Not, what?
Not, you’ve never been on a date before?
Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?
With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way.
He says none of that.
“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards.
“Sounds like a good first step.”
Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real.
“Will you go on a date with me?”
Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.
“I’d love to.”
He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair.
“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”
His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute.
“I should—”
“You definitely need to go.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”
You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper.
“I don’t—”
“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”
He’s so weird.
A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go.
-
part four
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic
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Hi lovely!
Can you please do one where Hotch and Reader are in a fight and it gets heated and he maybe raises his hand just because he’s shouting and she flinches?
He would be prepared to FIGHT whoever made his honey feel that way 🗣️🗣️
💘
for you my sweetheart. fem, 1k
cw implied past domestic violence
“It was right,” you're saying, on the defensive, your voice molten, “it was the thing to do!”
“It wasn't.” Hotch closes the door. “It wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't even close.”
You realise, under everything, that he's right, but you couldn't help yourself, you had to try and save the day, had to swerve the SUV. Plus, he's done it himself, and you both know that. “If Monikie got out of that exit we never would've seen her again.”
“There were roadblocks on the I–46, and I don't think I have to tell you that you could've gotten a lot of people seriously hurt–”
“You've done worse,” you deny.
His expression, broadly furious, narrows into something sharper, “And that is my decision to make, but you report to me.”
“You can't seriously want to act like a boss now,” you say.
The room isn't overly large, and so you stand close to one another with no need for shouting, but your voices begin to overlap. Hotch is so angry. It isn't like him to yell at you, his voice strained.
“You can't truly think that the decision you made today was the right one. You need to calm down, and you need to listen to me when I tell you that this was the wrong move. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”
“You're shrugging me off?” You could laugh. “You can't be serious. Every member of this team has done the same, or worse–”
“But they're not you!” His voice peeks, his hand jolting out in front of his chest, flat-palmed in incredulity.
You're really quite close to each other.
It's not his fault.
You step back, desperate to be away from the movement, the hand, because it doesn't register as his hand, only there's a chair behind you and a table behind that and you bump into the plastic with a creak and screech. You're righting yourself as quickly as you're tripping but Hotch is already moving away. Three steps that feel like a gorge.
Your heartbeat soars.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
“Of course.” You breathe out funny. It's not his fault, but there's something wired in your brain now, and it knows that the first strike isn't the last. Your hand shakes as you brush at an itch under your eyes.
“I'm not mad,” he says.
“You sounded pretty mad."
“I've changed my mind.” He gives you a long hard look, and then he moves to the office door to open it before returning to his initial position. He's given you an exit route. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he says.
You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist, breathing out hard. “Fuck, I know that."
“You thought I might.”
“So profile me,” you say, panicking still, face hot and itchy all over. “Tell me why.”
“Someone's hit you before. Enough to anticipate the second blow.”
“But you knew that already, didn't you?”
Your ears get cloudy like there's water in them and you can't stand the feeling of Hotch's gaze on the back of your head. You force yourself into a standing position and try to ignore what happened.
“You're unfairly angry with me,” you say.
Hotch just shakes his head at you.
“It's… It's not a big deal,” you say, quieter. He already knew because of course he did, every member of the team gets checked. You have records, and he's in a position of power unlike most, he could've read them like the morning paper.
“Why would you say that?”
“I can still do my job.”
“I wasn't going to suggest you couldn't.”
Then why… why is he looking at you like that? You're humiliated enough, and his gaze is so… so soft. So sorry. Tears gather warm behind your eyes and your chest aches like you've been holding your breath. You frown, eyebrows lifting at the starts, not knowing if you should beg him to forget the whole thing or finally give in.
“Come here,” he says gently. Completely optional, his fingertips twitching but stationery at his side.
You stare resolutely at your shoes.
“I'm sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention. I can imagine how it feels. I'm not mad, honey,” he says. His voice drops to a murmur, “Come here,” he pleads.
You take a clumsy handful of steps and he meets you in the middle, arms going carefully over your shoulders. You'd feel condescended by it if it weren't shockingly nice to be considered in such a way, or if the solid mass of his arms around you didn't soothe. You feel protected rather than boxed in, held, and not restrained.
His hand slides open down the length of your back.
“I'm sorry I scared you,” he repeats, for your ears alone.
“It's not like it was really you that scared me.”
The memory scared you. The flinch was instinctive, less to do with Hotch and more to do with the connection between a moving hand and stinging pain.
He hangs his head by your ear until his nose touches your shoulder, and for a few seconds, it's just you and him together, no fighting, and no fast-approaching hands.
“You didn't scare me,” you mumble, hiding your face in his shoulder instead, forcing him to stand tall.
Incoming footsteps cut your embrace short, but he doesn't pull away too swiftly. His hands grave the lengths of your arms, and he gives you a long, loaded look. Before you can calibrate the action to the man, he's chucking you under the chin, a stroke of his index knuckle, a promise of more to say.
He catches Morgan before he can enter the room and directs him back out. “Take a minute,” he advises you.
You sit in a chair and do as he's offered. Memory is a tricky thing.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
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Offspring garden
Masterlist Luke Castellan x Demetre! reader (fem) Summary: Luke and the reader are the unofficial parents of the camp, whether they like it or not. Warning: Non, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (T▽T ) Requested! word count: 1.2k
“LUKE CASTELLAN” A yell could be heard throughout the whole camp. The boy in question lifts his head from his sword to look for the source of the noise. Only to see a familiar girl with an angry scold on her face. He stands up when he sees her, dragging two familiar boys behind her. He just signs and makes his way to them.
“Hello, honey.” He says, hoping to de-escalate the situation. She just huffs and points a finger at him before turning to the two boys who were now looking at the floor in shame.
“Don't you even dare to sweet talk me, Luke?” To him this was comical. The Stroll brothers often did something they shouldn't, they however did not get caught that much. No, seeing them being scolded by a girl who’s just a few years older was funny. She resembled a mom giving a lecture to her children She turned to him again.
“Keep your siblings in check, because if I catch them again in my garden-”
“You're gonna what?” Luke says, coking his head to the side with a smile. Her eyes narrow at him as she steps closer. The boys yelp out a little ‘ sorry, mom’ teasing tone in their voice, as everybody noticed some of the younger kids calling her that by accident during the campfire last night. She ignores them and takes our step to Luke. He secretly waves his arm at the boys and they scatter away as quietly as they can, although few giggles leave them anyway.
“Don't try me today Luke, we have so much to do and I don't have the time or the patience for this. And you, you are- Luke where have they gone?” She says her eyes flipping between him and the place where the boys were standing a minute ago. Luke just shrugs and smiles. The girl sighs placing her shaking her head.
“You can’t just let them go, I brought them here for a reason.” She says kicking a stone with her foot. Luke took her hands in his, wrapping them around his neck. Now that he had her undivided attention he rocked them back and forth.
“They're just kids.”
“Cheeky, that's what they are.” Luke just laughs. Leaning in, their noses brush on each other. Before Luke could continue, a pair of giggles were heard before the water fell on them from the top of the Hermes cabin. In shock, the pair steps away from each other and look up. There they were, the Stroll brothers, with two buckets of water having the time of their life.
“LUKE!” He's not sure he can get them out of this one.
—
Being the counselor of their cabin did give them an advantage. Granted, it was more work than the normal ‘training to be a hero ‘ thing. The older campers however did not mind, because it meant they got to call light out. Now the Demeter cabin went to sleep almost as soon as the sun set, not fans of the dark. The Hermise cabin, however, is quite the opposite. If they had to pick they would switch the whole camp to night one.
However, it was not unusual to see the Demetre cabin counselor at the Hermes cabin after she called light out on her own. Not that Luke was having a problem with his cabin, no. Well kinda, it's always hard for the new kids, and he and his siblings are more mischief than anything else. The friendly face of the Demetre kids makes them calm down and fall asleep despite the noise.
He was leaning on the doorframe, his eyes glued to the girl reading kids' stories. He was supposed to keep an eye on his siblings. That was their deal. But he only started to pay attention to them when a shirt was thrown in his face. Taking it down and looking up to try and find a culprit, he finds Chris with a smirk on his face. Luke just rolls his eyes and throws it back. Making his was the girl who was tucking in the last camper. His hand lands on the small of her back as she straightens.
“ All done?” He whispers although it is useless when he hears his sibling laugh at full volume. The girl looks up at him and nods. Turning and making her way to the cabin door. Luke follows her very close by.
“Will you walk me back?” She asks, playing with his bracelets.
“Why? Scared of the dark?” He cocks his head to the side. Only receiving a glare from the girl. Before she can answer one of the Hermes girls pipes in.
“You have the same conversation every night, You are boring as an old married couple with kids.” She says before letting her head hit the pillow. Both Luke and the girl look at her. The Demeter girl shakes it off before he does. Letting off his hand and clearing her throat.
“Alright, that is enghou, lights out!” She said, making sure everyone could hear her. Some kids listened right away and some hesitated before laying down too.
“But you not our-”
“I SAID LIGHTS OUT.” The light switch was flipped to the end she said. All that could be heard was the cabin door opening and closing, indicating that the two counsellors had left on their adventure.
—
They were both sitting on the floor. Her back was pressed to his chest as she sat between his legs. Watching Annabeth, Percy and Grover fool around the arena. Luke insisted they needed training, although he was not teaching them anything. The girl opted to read her book, as this is as quiet as it gets around the busy camp.
“What do you say we go on an adventure next summer,” Luke says catching her attention enough to listen but not enough to put away her book.
“Chiron is not letting us go on a quest Luke.” She says nonchalantly. Luke just shakes his head and his hand goes to play with the corner of the book.
“No, I meant like, go and have a trip, Europe maybe.” He finishes and the girl chuckles. Turning over a page before finishing her chapter. Make sure she places a bookmark before closing the book and putting it aside. She leans even further onto him before answering.
“ As if Mr. D is gonna let us leave. We basically run the camp for him.” She says and Luke laughs. His arm now resting across her chest, both watching the trio who were playing some kind of game. It looks like a twisted version of Marko Pollo as Annabeth kept going invisible to confuse Percy even more. Luke leans down and kisses the girl on the forehead. She looks up at him with a smile before reaching to pat his head and tug at the base of his curls.
In bliss they sat, soaking in the sun. A quiet day where they get to be teenagers. All, however, comes to an end when someone yells out ‘Mom’ and all heads turn to her. The girl can just groan before getting up and following the sound. Flowers blooming in her hair out of frustration. Luke does not stay that far behind
#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson x fem!reader#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson fic#percy jackson x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#luke castellan#percy jackson#percy pjo#percy series#demetre!reader
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Daniel Ricciardo (RB Visa) - Lover
Requested: yes
Swift Series
Prompt: Daniel and international popstar Y/n accidentally get married in Vegas
Warnings: nope
Daniel woke up in his hotel room with a pounding headache, groaning as he tried to open his eyes but being blinded by the sun coming through the windows each time. He turned around, cursing to himself before his eyes widened. Y/n, the Y/n lay beside him, in just a bra. While they had met several times before and hung out with similar people, this was the last person he expected to see in his bed the morning after a race weekend. He began questioning what had happened? What had he done? Or more importantly, who had he done? Whilst Daniel sat thinking about what to say to her when she woke up, he ultimately decided to order room service and go to the bathroom to actually think.....and maybe throw up.
Y/n was awoken by a door closing quite loudly. She jumped up, looking around, her eyes had grown wife as she realised that she wasn't asleep in her room, she was in someone else's. She heard footsteps coming and turned to see who it was. "Uh... morning?" Daniel croaked, his voice scratchy from the combination of dehydration and excessive partying. Y/n grabbed the bed covers and pulled them up over her chest. "What the fuck happened?" She mumbled to herself. "Yeah, I said the same thing."
Daniel scratched his head, replying, "I wish I knew. It's all a bit of a blur." Suddenly, his eyes widened as he noticed a shiny object on his finger. "You don't think this would have anything to do with it?" He lifted his hand to show Y/n, before she looked down, spotting the matching ring. "I got married in Vegas." She was so unbelievably angry with herself. Since she was a child she dreamed of this big extravagant wedding and now she just got married in Vegas?
She looked over to Daniel as he burst into laughter. "Well, you can't get rid of me now." Daniel chuckled, his Australian accent making the situation even more absurd. "Daniel, this is not funny, I'm going to get into so much shit!" Y/n said. Daniel turned to open his big bottle of champagne as Y/n continued her rant. "You're having champagne? At this time?" Daniel walked over to the bed with a glass and sat down, handing it to her and pouring her a glass. "Why are we still here? We should go get divorced!" Y/n implored him. "You need to know where you got married first." Daniel replied, drinking the champagne from the bottle as Y/n looked on. She downed the glass quickly before grabbing the bottle from Daniel. "I need more than a glass." She mumbled, amking Daniel laugh. "I don't know why you're so upset, I'd make a great husband."
"Daniel, can we just think about what happened and then we'll get down to the details of whether or not you're a good husband?" Daniel nodded before Y/n began to think. "So chief, what happened last night?" Daniel asked, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing ache. Y/n shook her head, her expression mirroring his confusion. "I don't really remember much. We were at that bar, right?" Daniel nodded slowly, bits and pieces of their escapades starting to trickle back into his consciousness. "Yeah, we were celebrating... something." He lifted the champagne tp his lips once more before handing it over to Y/n. She frowned, trying to recall the reason behind their impromptu celebration. "Was it the points you scored? Maybe my new song got number one?"
"Maybe we just got fucking wasted." Daniel shrugged, before Y/n slapped his bare chest, making him wince in pain. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry." Y/n said. "I vaguely recall a dance-off and a questionable karaoke rendition of 'I Will Survive.'" She ran her fingers through her hair. "Oh, great," Daniel chuckled. "Classic Vegas moves." As she continued on with the possibilities, Daniel looked at the crumpled looking paper on the night stand. Daniel unfolded it tentatively, his heart sinking as he read the words scrawled across the page: Marriage Certificate - Daniel Ricciardo & Y/n Y/l/n - Las Vegas, Nevada.
Y/n's hand flew to her forehead as the reality of their situation sunk in. "Oh my God... we actually got married." Daniel let out a chuckle laugh, his mind oscillating between disbelief and amusement. "I know. I would have actually gotten you a nice ring. Maybe an expensive one?" Y/n slapped his chest again. "Yeah, it's still sore when you do that."
"Sorry, but you need to stop joking about this. It's serious!" She said. "It's really not. No one even knows." She looked to him. "We were clubbing with other drivers, surely one of them were there. Daniel went to turn on his phone, but it was dead. "Must have been to occupied to charge my phone." Daniel joked. "Yeah, getting married." Y/n replied, charging her phone. "I was thinking of starting our honeymoon." He gasped. "Are we going to have a baby Ricciardo?"
"No!" Daniel arched a brow. "Excuse me, but you would be lucky to have a child with my genes." He said, pretending to be hurt. "Yeah, and your humour." She rolled her eyes. "See? Dream team." They sat in silence for a few minutes. She expected a call from her manager at any given second. He was going to kill her. Daniel noticed how tense she was getting and turned to Y/n, holding out his hand. "Well, at least we've got one epic story for the grandkids." Y/n chuckled, taking his hand. "Yep, and a marriage certificate to prove it."
"If our managers don't call us in the next hour, they won't know and I say we go get divorced." Y/n thought about it for a moment. "I mean, if they don't know why bother? The point of us divorcing is so they get off our backs. Plus, it's broad daylight. If people see us going to the Chapel, people will find out." Daniel nodded. "So we're staying married?" Y/n smiled. "Of course. You're like the best husband I could have asked for." Daniel squeezed her hand. "Well, I say we head to the airport and get out of here." Daniel suggested, getting up. "Or we could enjoy our honeymoon with some movies?" He chuckled and sat back down, grabbing the remote control and turning Netflix on. "Sounds good. Can I?" Y/n nodded, allowing Daniel to wrap an arm around her as she leaned into him. "You're coming to Abu Dhabi, though." Daniel said. "Duh. You're going to go to the last race without your wife?"
#f1 blurb#f1 imagine#f1 oneshot#f1 oneshots#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x oc#f1 x you#f1 x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x y/n#daniel ricciardo x female reader#daniel ricciardo one shot#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo fluff
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— when the time comes
pairing: old man!logan howlett x gn! reader
word count: no idea but this one isn't very long.
part two is out!
tags: major character death — angst — reader is logan’s sunshine — mention of blood & wounds — logan low-key proposing 5 seconds before he dies — non established relationship
author's note: this has been on my mind since 2 days ago so I had to do it now.. I hope you guys enjoy reading this heartbreak! and yes I wrote this after watching Logan (2017) again. just a bit of an alternative type of ending so I can write abt logan x reader! as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^
god stood me up
and I don't know why
lights are on
but nobody's home
you find him leaning against a tree trunk, a chunk of wood piercing his sides open as blood soaks through his shirt. that isn't the only wound he's sporting but it's the most evident one; the one that'll possibly lead him to his demise.
logan blinks upon noticing you as if he's just seeing things or dreaming. when you crouch down beside him and place your hand on his arm, he realizes exactly just how real you are. “logan?” there are tears in your eyes and he hates that you're crying because of him again. you had been living with him, charles and caliban way before it all turned to shit. and somehow the only ones left standing were laura and you. and the kids that logan had managed to save; he truly had saved so many lives.
there's a silence aside from his heavy breathing before your shaky hands cup his face. the blood flows out of his wound and mouth like a river. in some way you're bleeding too — inside your heart. “hey sunshine.” logan whispers with a soft smile and you feel something tear your chest apart from the inside. “I made you cry again.” you see the way his hand twitches by his side. he wants to touch you but he's old and tired and wounded. there's no energy left in him to move anymore. “the kids are okay, laura is okay— I have the car and..and there's still time— the hospital—” your voice trails off when logan closed his eyes.
“you know what makes me angry, sunshine?” logan asks and you simply stare at him, shaking your head. when he opens his eyes again, they are full of unshed tears. “gonna miss my daughter’s first birthday with me—” logan mutters brokenly and the vision of laura swims beneath his half-opened eyelids. and after laura there is you; smiling. at the beach. you've always wanted to go to the beach with him but he never took you since he was working day and night to take care of everything. of everyone. “and i’m also gonna miss my sunshine.” his eyes fall on you, on your crying face. the tears sliding down your cheeks are plenty and there is so much emotion pooling in those orbs of yours. logan wants to kiss you, tell you it'll be alright. but he can’t even move.
he coughs, some blood spluttering on his white shirt and you flinch. your fingers shake as you slide them through his messy hair, stroking them in the way he’s always loved. “logan, I'm sorry...I— I'm so sorry logan..” you keep chanting and logan feels the frustration in his bones when he tries to move his arms. he can't, he's too weak now, and he's angry with himself that he's unable to comfort you the way he wants. the way he once could but never did. “not you nor the entire world could ever prevent this, sunshine. it was meant to be like this.” he says before coughing again, more blood trickling down his beard.
you crawl by his side, on the dirty ground, and press against his ‘good’ side while leaning your head on his shoulder. you tilt your head back enough for your eyes to reach his exhausted face. logan maintains a smile you haven't seen in forever. in damn years to be precise. “charles spoke to me of other timelines and some shit about— multiverse was it?” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don't fucking know. I just wanted him to take the damn pills.” his sentence makes both of you laugh although logan is holding back with that — it'll only cause more physical pain after all. “point is..if it's true then—”
“—we gotta find each other yeah? and laura.” his eyes aren't on you anymore but they're in the sky. it's bluer than ever and the clouds part to show him the sun. logan doesn't look away even if it makes his eyes ache. you stare. “wanna make it right, sunshine.” he tells you as you sniffle by him. his fingers flinch again between your bodies and you slide a single hand down to hold his own, to intertwine your fingers in a gentle mess. “but for now I want to rest.” logan whispers and your grip tightens around his hand. if he had the strength, he'd squeeze back. you knew this.
“you did excellent.” you finally manage to say, a little steadier this time. logan averts his gaze to you as you continue. “you did a good job. you did such a good job.” you repeat with a smile so soft that logan starts yearning for you already. his faint chuckle turns into a rough cough and he takes some time to recover before speaking again.
“maybe after I rest, I'll open my eyes and..” you watch as logan’s eyes begin closing and how the heaving of his chest slows. he's deathly pale by now, the veins underneath his eyes are prominent, but your grip never slackens. you crawl closer until your foreheads touch. logan draws one last breath and you swallow down your cry. “and I'll see my daughter. and my... spouse.” your eyes shoot open wide but logan’s remain fallen shut. your chest heaves up and down intensely but logan’s remains still.
when the time comes, your feet are forcefully dragging you away towards your old car while logan lies beneath the ground.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett angst#major character death#logan 2017#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#marvel#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader#Spotify#old man logan#old man logan x reader#old logan#old!logan howlett
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BRATTY/DEGRADING/ETC SMUT PROMPTS
1. “i can’t keep going” - “aw, too bad. i don’t care”
2. “i dont care who’s outside”
3. “do you want them to hear you being such a slut?”
4. “what if i don’t?”
5. “i promise i’ll start being good, just please…”
6. “make me”
7. “that sounds like an excuse, i want a confession”
8. “you don’t get to tell me what to do”
9. “that’s strike 3”
10. “if you stop, i’ll stop”
11. “no more, please, i can’t”
12. “where are your manners?”
13. “i hear an acknowledgement, not an apology, do you want 3 more?”(the ‘it’ can be anything)
14. “what did you say?”
15. “try that again”
16. “no, you don’t get to touch”
17. “beg for it”
18. “i said no”
19. “i mean, i got what i wanted, didn’t i?”
20. “stop pushing, it won’t end well”
21. “you don’t need anything, you want it”
22. “say it”
23. “use your words”
24. “i can’t understand you”
25. “i can’t read your mind”
26. “could he/she do it better?”
27. “do you wish it was *name* touching you right now?”
28. “take it like a good girl and stop whining”
29. “that’s whining, i thought we talked about that”
30. “sluts don’t get to make requests”
31. “what happened? you wanted this so bad five minutes ago”
32. “stop talking”
33. “did i give you permission to talk?”
34. “you don’t understand how angry i am right now”
35. “be still” - “i can’t” - “yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?”
36. “why are you already squirming?”
37. “cut it out” - “what do you mean? i’m not doing anything”
38. “come here, now”
39. “you can barely speak, so cute”
40. “i’m tired of you speaking, i need something in your mouth”
41. “if i have to stop this car, i’m going to make sure you can’t walk out of it without my help”
42. “you really don’t deserve this”
43. “i didn’t mean to, i’m sorry”
44. “don’t cum until i tell you to”
45. “what if i just leave you here, wet and needy?”
46. “what’s the safe word? you’re going to need it”
47. “what are you going to do? punish me?”
48. “i really don’t care that we’re in public”
49. “keep it up, you won’t like the situation you end up in”
50. “who do you think you are?”
51. “grab the handcuffs and come back here”
52. “no, you’re in trouble, you don’t get to demand”
53. “liar”
54. “stop teasing me”
55. “i like it when you’re mad”
56. “punish me”
57. “are you going to stop me?”
58. “shut up”
59. “no, you started this, now you’re going to finish it”
60. “clean my fingers, this is your mess”
61. “did you really think that would work? cute”
62. “bad girls/sluts don’t get to cum”
63. “can you tell me what you did wrong?”
64. “explain what you did, if you don’t finish before you cum, you don’t get to finish again for the rest of the night”
65. “you’re being particularly insufferable today”
66. “you’re such a fucking slut/whore/cunt”
67. “make me cry”
68. “ruin me”
69. “you’re not in a position to make demands”
70. “if you ever pull a stunt like that again, i won’t wait until we get to our bedroom”
71. “say that again, i dare you”
72. “i’m going easy on you, you should be getting the belt right now”
73. “what happened to my good girl?”
74. “what would the others think of this? their innocent little maknae being such a whore”
75. “you’ll cum as many times as i want, got it?”
76. “look what you did”
77. “i should edge you”
78. “stop moving, you’ll take what i give you”
79. “swallow"
80. "i'll untie you if you're good"
81. “i want to make a mess of you"
82. “you think your begging is going to change my mind?"
83. “i don't care that you're sorry"
84. “don’t argue with me”
85. “you royally fucked up”
86. “you heard me”
87. “don’t make me repeat myself”
88. “hurry up, if you take too long i won’t touch you”
#fanfic#fanfic prompt#smut prompts#kink prompts#writing prompts#prompts#fic prompt#prompt list#story prompt#story prompts#writing prompt#dialogue prompt#prompt#bratty#bd/sm brat#fanfic smut#smut#smut fanfiction
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You are my heaven (Bruce Wayne x f!reader) Part 2
It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. It'll be into 2 parts, except if you ask for more. <3
You can find part 1 of this here.
Warnings: no proof reading, language, mention of blood and killing, angst/comfort
He met you up at the Italian restaurant and loved to place a hand on the small of your back. He loved even more how you instinctively leaned into his touch and side. He really couldn't go back to his world. This place was heaven, and he was going to take such good care of his new people.
He listened to everything you said and actually answered. He never checked on his phone and didn't show any sign of being in the rush. You noticed how relaxed he seemed. Just before the dessert, he even reached for your hand and gently kissed it. He openly flirted with you and did his best to make you laugh. It was his favourite sound, with your moans of pleasure.
"You're in a good mood today," You finally commented. "You even took the time to talk to the kids this morning. And not to order them stuff about patrol, " You whispered
It hit Bruce. Of course, the "kids" were the vigilantes he saw working with Batman. He couldn't imagine how amazing it must be to work with other people. To be the mentor of those people, too. Their leader. Maybe even their father? They were all so young, they clearly needed someone to be there for them. And you cared for them, like a mother.
"I... Last night was a little bit complicated, and I realise how lucky I am, that’s all," Bruce replied, hoping you might know something
"Yes, Dick and Cass told me you got attacked by that mad scientist and that he threw at you some weird potion. Luckily, nothing happened. You were a little bit dizzy when you came back home, and you instantly went to bed. I helped you undress, and you fell asleep on me, " You hummed. "Anyway, I'm happy if things…” You trailed off
“If things?” Bruce tried to get you to finish your sentence
“Could... be better, " You admitted and looked away
Bruce was speechless for a few moments. Were you saying that the Bruce of this world neglected his people? His own people? You? He fucking didn't deserve any of this then. It was making things so easy, no guilt, no mercy.
"What do you mean, love?" He asked with a tilt of the head. You still refused to meet his eyes as you answered:
"Well... You haven't been around a lot lately. I can't even remember the last time we had lunch together. And you... you aren't the nicest with the children... Jason came to see me for comfort after another argument with you. Steph had a nap with me on the couch after you pushed her too much during training..." You explained.
You didn't want to ruin the moment, but you weren't too sure when you would be able to tell him about all of this. For once, he seemed open to the discussion and wasn’t distracted with his work. However, his silence worried you a little bit. Actually, Bruce was angry. It was obvious that the Bruce of this universe didn't know his luck. He was going to be better - oh, so much better - than him. It was a promise. He kissed your hand again
"I'm so sorry. I'll do better. With everyone." He told you, and you finally looked at him, astonished. You had expected some justifications or denials, not this.
"I'm so... relieved. Maybe you could have a little talk with all the kids? And I know that your relationships with the members of the Justice League were getting tense, too. We haven't invited the Kents at home in so long." You babbled.
Bruce could tell how much you cared about the family and that you decided to push your luck. You wanted your children to be happy, and you wished for Bruce to do better with his friends as well. You were so caring. Bruce was falling even deeper in love with you, and he didn’t think that was possible.
"I will. I promise. What about us?" He asked.
Of course, he was going to do his best for all those people he didn't know yet, but what he wanted the most was to be a good husband to you. He had fantasied about your life together so badly, and now that it was happening, it needed to be perfect.
You didn't reply right away, trying to quickly think.
"What about us?" You finally said
"I haven't been the best to you either," Bruce guessed
"You saw the divorce papers I asked from our lawyer, didn't you?" You internally cursed yourself. You should have been better
Bruce silently panicked but didn't show anything. Oh the fucker was really ruining everything. He needed to make you forget about this divorce. You were finally his wife, he wasn't going to lose you or let you go. You were his, like he belonged body and soul to you.
"Love,..." He started, but you cut him off
"I was just thinking about it, but I... I don't want to leave the family. It was just in case things went downhill, " You explained, a little bit concerned of what the man was thinking
"It won't," He reassuringly smiled at you
"What?"
"It won't go downhill. I'll do anything you all need from me. I'm so lucky to have all of you in my life. I can't take this luck for granted. I'll do better, " He promised
You weren't too sure Bruce wasn't lying, but you wanted to believe him so badly.
Bruce found a folder with information on all the people in Bruce's life on the batcomputer, and he was grateful for that. It allowed him to know about his history with everyone and to act on consequences. He did talk to everyone and tried to make things better. He apologised and offered his help. He took some time for everyone. He showed he was eager to make an effort. He showed he wanted everyone to be happy around him. He showed he was there for his people.
He also found the mad scientist.
He interrogated him in Arkham Asylum. The man hadn't thought a new Batman would come. He just thought it would send the Dark Knight into another world, and that was it. Bruce asked if there was a way to get the real Bruce back. The mad scientist refused to answer at first before admitting that yes, there was. After all, portals could go both ways. Bruce went to the scientist's repair and destroyed everything before paying hitmen to kill the man. There was no way he would come back to Hell. No way. He would even kill the former Bruce himself if he had to.
The night he came back from the scientist’s repair, he was his most charming self to you, bringing you a beautiful necklace full of diamonds. As he helped you put it on, he complimented you and kissed your skin. He seduced you all night.
In the bath with you, his hands never left your skin. He gently washed your body and hair. He tenderly massaged cream onto you. He covered you in kisses until you would giggle under his nonstop attention. You truly hoped Bruce would keep acting like that because you were falling back in love with him. Hard. You were happy, and you clearly didn't want to get a divorce anymore.
A few days later, you and the children had lunch all together. Without Bruce.
You all decided that a conversation was a necessity because “what was going on with the man for fuck's sake?”. It was impossible he changed that much in such a short period of time. It was obvious something happened with the mad scientist. But weirdly enough, he was now dead and his work was destroyed...
"It's not Bruce," Tim finally said
"What do you mean?" You frowned
"It's not the Bruce we knew. From what I've been able to find, the scientist was studying portals through different parallel universe" Tim added
"You're saying that... He switched of Bruces from two different worlds?" You asked
"I think it's what happened, yes." Tim nodded, and you all stayed silent for a little while
"What do we do?" Duke asked
"This Bruce is nicer," Jason commented
"And more caring," Stephanie added
"But it is not our father." Damian frowned
"But he is acting like one..." Dick replied
"And like a husband." Cass added "His body language... He is so in love with you, Y/N… Like he would do anything for you."
"I... I know.” You paused “Maybe we all deserve some happiness"
“Are you saying we should pretend we don’t know anything? Barbara asked “It’s true that the Bruce we had was… challenging, but he all saved us. And kinda took care of us. We don’t know what this man will do in the long run” she added, and you were forced to agree with her
“Let me talk to him” You offered, and everyone agreed.
You weren’t too sure when it would be the right moment to speak with your new husband about the situation.
One evening, as you were snuggled up in his embrace, you felt like it was the right time. It was only the two of you, and the day has been quite good for Bruce, so he was relaxed. You kissed his collarbone to bring his attention back to you. He instantly put his book down to look at you.
"Yes, love?" He hummed
“Who are you?” You whispered with a bite of your bottom lip
“What? You know who am I” Bruce pretended to laugh it off, but he tensed a little bit
“You’re different. The kids are little detectives, and they think you are coming from a parallel universe. And… I can believe that” You explained
“Why?”
“Because my husband liked me, but never worshipped me like a divinity of love” You softly smiled
“Well, he should have” Bruce groaned
“So, this is true, right? You came from another universe. And the man I married is there, instead of you?” You asked
Bruce cupped your face and leaned his forehead against yours. He had been the happiest man in the world the past few weeks. He finally had everything he ever wanted and needed. He would sell his soul in exchange for keeping this life. He was terrified you would cast him away.
“He didn’t deserve you. Any of you. I guess he’s there, yes, but I don’t really know. And I don’t care. I want to stay here. Haven’t I been good to you? Don’t you want to keep me? Haven’t I been better than he was?” He pleaded.
You heard the fear and despair in his voice.
“Your world isn’t as nice as here then?” You asked
“My Alfred died when I turned 18, so I never had the time to adopt any of the children. I did my best as Batman and CEO of Wayne Enterprises, but I’m alone and lonely. Maybe I fucked up too, because my life is a just a mess. I don’t know, but this is Heaven and my world is Hell.”
“We’re not married either?” You wondered
“I’m too much of a loser to interest you. No matter how madly in love I am with you. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to worship you. I’m so happy to finally have you as my wife. I’ll always cherish you.” He admitted and promised
You stayed silent, not knowing what to do anymore. This place was clearly a fresh and happy start for the man in front of you. But what about the Bruce Wayne of this world? Wasn’t it a cruel punishment to leave him in such a lonely place? At the same time, you weren’t sure the man you married would even take care of you like you now were. And you would miss that very much. The children deserved a better father, too. Jason actually started to hang out with this new Bruce. And now Jason knew it wasn’t the same man who betrayed him. Their relationship would be even better. There were so many advantages...
“Keep me” The man begged you “I’ll do anything you want” He whispered again
“I… do want you to stay. But I feel awful knowing he is in your world. Alone.” You admitted
“I can make you forget about him” Bruce offered before kissing you, his thoughts on ways to make everyone forget about the “real” Bruce Wayne.
He was going to stay in Heaven, no matter the price, no matter the sacrifice, no matter what. You kissed him back before gently pushing him away.
“What if he comes back?” You asked “Would you hurt him?” You continued
Bruce didn’t answer, so you knew he would kill him without hesitation. He was a love, attention, and touch starved man. He knew what it was to be so broken that nothing could work out.
“Barbara and Damian… They need some convincing to not find a way and save the Bruce we knew. I still feel bad but… if I loved him, I know I’ve never felt for him what I’m feeling for you” You whispered
Bruce’s eyes lit up. Being loved by you because he was Bruce Wayne was a thing, but being loved by you because of who he was was so much better. He didn’t know what to say, so he deeply kissed you over and over again.
“Love you, love you so much. You’ll be happy with me. Everyone will be happy with me.” He whispered in between kisses
“You promise?” You breathlessly asked
“I promise, my love”
--
Part 3
--
Taglist for all my work <3
@blublock404
Taglist for this series <3
@bat1212
#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x s/o#batfam x reader#batfam x y/n#batman x reader#batman x you#jason todd#duke thomas#damian wayne#cassandra cain#dick grayson#barbara gordon#tim drake#stephanie brown#alfred pennyworth
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EAS SYSTEM TEST FAQ:
"huh what"
theres a test of the emergency alert system (EAS) for the united states on wednesday oct 4th 2023, 2:20 pm est (with a second test planned on the 11th if this ones canceled). its the system they use for amber alerts, weather alerts (like tornados/floods/hurricanes), stuff like that. will be sent to TVs, radios, phones, even if alerts are muted as far as i know
"what why"
bc they gotta test emergency systems sometimes. this happens on occasion.
"what is the government planning this is suspicious"
no its not its just. a standard test. they happen. we just havent had this specific type of phone one for a few years, they dont gotta test it as often as like. physical tornado sirens.
"okay but like are they trying to instill terror this reminds me of the terrorism threat leve-"
if they were doing that they wouldnt have been warning people of the upcoming test several months in advance
"why havent i seen it anywhere except for tumblr"
bc u havent like. paid attention to news stuff.
"okay well how do i verify this how do i know this isnt a hoax????"
....search for the news articles pictured above and read them.
"okay but WHY this is ANNOYING why is it in the MIDDLE OF SCHOOL/WORK"
bc systems gotta be tested on occasion to make sure they aint broken when you actually need them, and probs the time with the least risk of waking ppl up and making ppl even more angry
"i completely understand the purpose and i dont think its a government conspiracy but i still dislike it bc loud sounds/secret phone/epilepsy/whatever other reasons ive seen ppl site"
yeah 100% fair, thats why i and others are trying to warn so that ppl arent caught off guard (even if my warning was missing info like the time bc im dumb), i set a couple of notifs to pop up beforehand so i dont forget and get surprised, do what u gotta do to keep urself chill. shut off your phone, wrap it in blankets, be in another room from all ur tech while the test is happening, wear earplugs, etc. hope you're good!
"that thing about phones still going off when turned back on..."
oh yeah idk if thats true or nah. but eh, better safe than sorry, assume ur phone may or may not still be loud when u turn it back on, and plan for it if needed. idk where ppl are getting this tho and havent seen it verified myself. just be careful if this applies to you. maybe shove it into a blanket before turning it back on.
"is it gonna activate my covid vaccine mind control nanotech"
idk man probably not
"YAAAAAY EXTREMELY LOUD SOUND WEDNESDAY!!!!"
omgg yayyy!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰
#buzzy#EAS#emergency alert system#emergency alert system test#FEMA#FCC#uspol#ish whatever#us govt#extremely loud sound wednesday
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