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arieslost · 3 months

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fireproofs | ln4

summary: lando norris is hot and the 2024 fireproofs drive you crazy.

word count: 756

warnings: suggestive comments

masterlist — join my tag list here!

you’ve been grateful to mclaren for many things over the years, but aside from a fast car, this has to be the best gift they’ve bestowed upon you.

you don’t think it’s an exaggeration when you say that your jaw unhinged the first time you saw lando wearing the new black fireproofs that mclaren has him and oscar in for the 2024 season. he’d sent you pictures, along with a text saying, “what do you think? 👀”

you’d responded with “yeah, not bad” and subsequently spent the next half hour screaming into your pillow. you were able to save face over text, but now that testing is here, you’re a lost cause.

you’d seen lando in black fireproofs before, but something about this year is different. something about him is different. he’s more confident, more determined, and he somehow managed to fill out even more during winter break.

lando had felt bad for mclaren’s car launch sabotaging your valentine’s day, so while you were in the middle of insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, he was booking you a plane ticket to join him in bahrain for the grand prix and testing the week before.

so now, you’re twiddling your thumbs as you sit in your boyfriend’s driver room, both anxious to see him before his testing session begins and hoping he’ll be occupied on the pit wall for just a little longer so you can figure out how to keep your composure once he changes into his race suit.

“you’re still here?” it comes out like half an exclamation and half a question as lando slips into the room.

“you haven’t even gone out on the track, of course i’m still here,” you giggle when he pulls you into his arms and starts pressing kisses all over your face. “i can’t wait to see you put the car through its paces. oscar looked pretty good out there.”

“i’d rather put you through your paces,” he mumbles in your ear, and you smack his shoulder.

“maybe later, if you’re not too tired.”

“i’m never too tired for you.” he winks and kisses your nose before turning to change.

you have no shame in ogling his ass out of the corner of your eye as he does so, but for the most part you’re looking at updates from the first session on your phone until he sits down next to you to put his shoes on.

those damn fireproofs.

they hug his body a little too nicely. the muscles in his chest, back, and arms are perfectly defined courtesy of the tight material. you can’t even think about his shoulder to waist ratio without feeling a little dizzy with desire.

“you’re drooling,” he teases as he stands back up, the both of you knowing damn well that he loves it when you stare at him.

“i can’t help it, you’re too hot.” you’ve never had a problem with telling him just how fine he is, especially because your praise always manages to make him blush and that just makes him impossibly more attractive.

“how am i supposed to let you leave this room?” you complain, wrapping your arms around his torso.

he buries his red face in your shoulder. “the sooner i leave, the sooner i come back and show you a good time.”

“i thought you were taking me out to dinner.”

“that’s what i was talking about,” his tone is dripping in faux innocence, and you know he’s messing with you when you feel him kiss your neck. “good to know where your priorities lie, though.”

you open your mouth to patronize him, but you’re cut off when he squeezes your hips, causing you to yelp. “you are impossible.”

“hmm, good thing you love me so much then.” you can hear his smile as he speaks, and you run your hands across his back, feeling every ridge of muscle through the material of the fireproofs.

your phone starts buzzing in your pocket— the alarm you’d set to remind yourself of when he needed to get in the car. “alright,” you reluctantly separate yourself from him, taking one last lingering look at his figure before he pulls the other half of his race suit on. “i’ll stay for an hour or two and meet you back at the hotel, okay?”

“what dress are you wearing tonight?” he asks as he holds the door open for you.

“the papaya one,” you smirk, and he groans, dragging a hand through his hair.

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

note: i wrote most of this at 2 am in a purely feral state and did the bare minimum in editing because i’m drowning in schoolwork so apologies if it’s a bit rough!! mclaren posted a 10 second video of lando and oscar walking around and that was all it took.

lowercase is intentional because i wrote entirely on mobile!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @emmma232 @lieswithoutfairytales @valisjustvaleria @bwormie @meribfox @xfuckoffx @rai-scutum @clara760-blog @reptaysgf @harryismysworld @caz-93 @positiveaspirations @satanfinalgirl @ln4lova @crazymofo-96 @x-d1vine @anedpev

#blurb #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #formula one

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see-arcane · 16 days

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Something I’ve been chewing on for this go-around of Dracula Season is the fact that, for all that I am absolutely 110% on board with the whole ‘Dracula wants Jonathan for himself, calls dibs, wants first taste, wants to keep him as part of the castle permanently, I too can love~ et cetera’ deal, I can admit now that I’ve been overlooking one very key part of the whole Bluebeard wifery setup.

And that’s the unavoidable fact that Dracula fully intends to leave Jonathan Harker to be drunk and collected by the Weird Sisters.

Now there’s all manner of guesswork to make about what exactly these three’s relationship to Dracula really is. A personal harem is usually the go-to, and what I usually land on as explanation, considering how things will play out in the future regarding his usual choice of vampiric victim. But others have suggested familial connections, going by Jonathan noting a couple similar traits between the two brunettes, ala facial features, hair, the same red eyes and so on, leaving Blondie as a potential wife the Count turned along with their daughters. Or hell, maybe they’re all actual sisters. We never get to know.

All we know is that they accuse Dracula of ‘Never loving,’ while Dracula stares meaningfully at Jonathan, insisting otherwise. And claims that the trio themselves know it is so from the past. Whatever past that is.

To that end, the Weird Sisters matter to Dracula. Enough to keep them fed, enough to not even put up a full villain monologue at them when they go against his orders to try and snatch Jonathan out from under him, followed by laughing in his face. Beyond his far-too-intimate interactions and abuses with Jonathan, this is the closest we get to seeing Dracula trying to be close with and/or properly*** interacting with someone. An exchange that ends not only with handing over the poor stolen baby in the sack, but outright promising Jonathan to the Sisters once Dracula is finished with him.

And that’s sticking with me this year. Because for all that I’ve joked and memed about it in the past, it never really whacked me over the head with the import and terror that comes with Jonathan’s opening line in this entry.

God preserve my sanity, for to this I am reduced.

Reduced. That’s the key word here.

Even if he doesn’t know all the rules, he knows now that he is no longer just a temporary prisoner. Not even a mere murder victim waiting out the clock. No. He has been reduced to a living decanter. A possession there to be nursed from and used and given as a gift from Dracula to his companions. Like a toy or a new pet.

At the risk of slight spoilers (avert your eyes first-time Dracula Dailiers!), two important lines are yet to come during Jonathan’s stay in Vampire Hell. One from Dracula:

But I am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula.

(Yes, he does think he’s very funny. Prick.)

And another from Jonathan:

At its foot a man may sleep—as a man.

Two vital beats.

The first, because it is a winking confirmation to all that Jonathan has feared. Namely, that Dracula and the Weird Sisters mean to never let him leave the castle again, alive, dead, or otherwise.

The second, because it shows that for all Jonathan is not aware of, he does rightly suspect that there is more expected of him than being a mere meal to have and discard. He knows he is not due for a fleeting pain and escape, even via death. Because Dracula wants to ‘love’ him. To keep him.

And Dracula will do so because he keeps the Weird Sisters, and they will keep him. A parting gift from their loving lord of the castle. The conqueror’s playbook in miniature.

I turned you. You turn him. I have you all.

This, buried under the veneer of:

See girls? I care! Here, a fine new plaything to keep you company. Housebroken already.

(To this I am reduced. To this I am reduced. To this I am reduced.)

There’s time right now. However much time Jonathan can win by playing a good guest. But if he doesn’t get out by the time Dracula is done with him? He lives the rest of his human life as a wine bottle and then all of eternity after that as joint undead property.

Better hope your acting skills are up to the task, Mr. Harker.

#Happy Undead Girl Gang Day to you Jonathan #jonathan harker #brides of dracula #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily

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caesium-55 · 3 months

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—seven days. [ v ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: sorry it took a while compared to the other chapters. i finished up my lab reports in my surveying class. this is not edited nor is it beta read and i dont remember much on what happened during the 2018-2021 seasons so pardon me if there are inaccuracies. anyways, welcome to max's pov. u can say im stalling on the shitshow that will happen once max discovers that reader resigned. lemme know what you think.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1

masterlist.

2018

“Who’s that?”

Daniel looks up, cheeks stuffed with the sandwich he was eating for lunch, “Who?”

Max cringes internally. His mother always told him and Victoria to not talk when his mouth was full, she called it bad manners, and now, he is understanding where she was coming from with those lectures. Nevertheless, he doesn't reprimand Daniel. Instead, he gestures to the girl standing a few meters away from their table in the Red Bull hospitality staff cafeteria, who was happily chatting with two Red Bull senior engineers whom Max recognizes to be Elijah Stuart and Richard Fox.

It is the first time Max has seen her. A new employee perhaps? Perhaps not. She lacks the company standard uniform.

Daniel trails his line of sight to where Max has pointed, “Which one? Richard?”

“No,” Max groans. Daniel blinks.

“Elijah?”

This is quickly becoming annoying.

“The girl, Daniel,” Max says, his exasperation bleeding through his words. “She’s not wearing a Red Bull polo.”

Daniel’s brows rise to his hairline, head snapping back to Max, “[Name]?”

Then, a shit-eating grin erupts on his lips. “Are you interested in her?”

“She’s not my type,” Max’s denial comes quickly. Is it even considered denial if it’s the truth? In his twenty almost twenty-one years being alive, Max never really put a lot of time into thinking about what his ideal type would look like. But he is sure that the woman of his dreams will look very far from the woman who was successful in catching his attention because you are wearing a black shirt in a sea of Red Bull polo shirts.

You with your eyes that forms into tiny crescent moons once your face breaks into a grin, you with your smile that shows too much gums and too much teeth, you with your hands that moves too much when you talk, and you with that too loud and too obnoxious laugh that comes even with the lamest of jokes. You’re like Daniel in a way. All happy sunshine vibes.

Max is watching you close, observing how you were interacting with Richard and Elijah. They're old men and no one should look this happy while talking to boring, old, white men, who worked more than four decades in the engineering industry so they only know how to speak boomer language and everything engineering. Surprisingly, Elijah and Richard seem to be having fun talking to you. A miracle on its own because they never even look that happy talking to Daniel Ricciardo and everybody in Red Bull Racing adores sunshine honey badger, Daniel Ricciardo.

“I didn't say anything.”

“You're thinking about it.”

“How would you know what I’m thinking?”

“Because you’re currently on a quest to erase my singledom. I can put two and two together.”

Daniel snorts, crossing his arms over his chest, “Maybe I just want to let you meet new friends.”

“I have enough friends.”

“You don't have friends that are not racers.”

Max presses his lips in a thin line.

“She’s my manager, by the way.” says Daniel, leaning back into his seat.

“What happened to Nick?”

“He’s on leave,” Daniel says. “His wife’s giving birth soon. She’s my temporary manager for a few months. Or I don't know, maybe the whole season.”

Max brows rise in pleasant surprise but says nothing.

“Now that I think about it, she’s around your age. How old are you again? Twenty-two?”

“Twenty,” Max corrects. His birthday is still months away from pre-season. On the end of September.

“Ah, she's older than you. Oh wait, here she comes. Hey, [Name]! Here!”

Max flinches and his heart begins ramming against his ribs erratically that he thinks he’ll undergo cardiac arrest in a matter of seconds. He does a double take—why am I even panicking?—then forces himself to calm down and straightens up in his seat. His shoulders and neck are still considerably stiff and his palms are slowly becoming sweaty. He swallows an invisible stone in his throat.

“¡Hola mi amiga, [Name]!” Daniel greets and his Spanish accent sounds off that it makes [Name], who stopped right in front of their table, giggle and when Max looks up at her through his lashes, it almost feels like the world is turning too rapidly on its axis and it’s making Max dizzy. Daniel and her do a friendly handshake—when did they reach this level of friendship?

“Hola, Daniel,” she greets, smiling. Your accent reminds Max of Carlos, but unlike Carlos, who possesses a very distinct Spanish accent, yours sounded subtler than his and it's mixed with the charming rhythm of words that reminds Max of sunsets in the south. You pronounce Daniel’s name like it has two syllables instead of three. Dan-yel instead of Dan-i-el. Suddenly, Max is curious as to how his name will sound if it originates from her mouth, how the syllables will roll off her tongue. Max will still sound like Max. Nobody will mispronounce that name. But Emilian and Verstappen? How will you say it?

“Hi Max.”

The Max sounds plain even though you’re smiling when you greet him. She didn't say Max the same way she said Daniel, whose name was uttered with a certain fondness.

“Hello,” Max’s chin dips slightly into a nod.

“Eat with us,” Daniel invites and he is already dragging a chair from a nearby table to their table before Max can fully register what he’s doing.

“You sure?” you ask, brows raising slightly at Daniel’s abrupt invitation.

Daniel waves his hand dismissively, “Yeah, yeah, Max wouldn't mind. Would you, Max?”

Suddenly, two pairs of eyes are on him and his throat feels dry. He cannot speak. No words leave his mouth. Empty brain, zero thoughts. In the end, he nods and you join the two for lunch.

Max frequently sees you following Daniel in the paddock. You remind him of a dog. No, even dogs do not follow their owners this much. Or do they? Max wouldn't know. He is a cat person anyway.

Max’s main point is this: not even the other racers’ managers follow them around this much. Not even Max’s manager follows him this much. (No one tell Max that this was due to the fact that he scares his own manager. Imagine a middle-aged man scared of a Dutch racer half his age with anger issues.) But you follow Daniel around like he is the sun and you are planet Earth and you need to be constantly revolving around him to achieve universal balance. And for some reason, your actions cause something odd to stir up in Max. He is annoyed. Of what? Maybe because you are so good to Daniel? Maybe he wants someone to be like that for him, too? His manager is not as proactive as you. Yeah, maybe that’s it.

And if you are not with Daniel, which is a rare occurrence, you’re hovering around the Red Bull mechanics. You even go as far as bringing them coffee in the mornings and that annoys Max even more. Daniel, he can understand if you brought him coffee, but the others? No. You don't even bring Christian Horner coffee. Why only them?

Whatever.

You are such a suck up. Max hates suck ups.

Baku 2018 was a bad race, a total nightmare for everyone in the team. The moment Max got out of that car, he was burning. Figuratively, at least. The engine of the RB14 is the one burning, in a literal sense. Horner is red in the face when he sees Max and Daniel, and he yells at them to cool down before they do the formal stuff of apologizing and dealing with the FIA and all the formalities that Max rather thinks are bullshit.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice raising, when he sees you approaching. “Aren't you supposed to be with Daniel?”

“Water?” you offer the water bottle to him and Max knows full well it’s supposed to be for Daniel. Max saw you offering it to Daniel earlier when the two of them stepped into the Red Bull garage after retiring from the race but the older man has declined your offer before stomping off somewhere else to cool down.

“No.”

He is not going to take the scraps of someone else, even though he is thirsty as hell.

You nod, shrugging your shoulders and saying, “Okay.”

You crouch on the floor and put the water bottle in front of him with a neatly folded face towel balancing on top of it. Then, you rise and walk away, leaving Max to glare at your back as you fade away from his view. Once you disappeared from his line of sight, he drags his gaze back to the water bottle and towel.

He drinks the water and then uses the towel to wipe his sweat. At that moment, Max decides that he will never allow himself to be beaten by Daniel ever again.

Max remembers the anger he feels when he discovers the news of Daniel leaving Red Bull.

“Was this because of Baku?!”

Daniel tries to explain his situation as calmly as he can but Max is all fire and flames and fury. He is only hearing Daniel’s words, not listening to them because all that he registers are the words “leaving” and “Renault” and “goodbye” and the rest are all just a bunch of ringing noise. Max knows where Daniel is coming from because he isn't dumb nor naive and he is aware that he is quickly becoming the team favorite, but did Daniel really need to leave?

Daniel’s leaving, Daniel’s leaving, Daniel’s leaving. He’ll have no friends left on the team.

Max’s fear of being left behind is often masqueraded as anger. The thing about Max is that his pain always turns to anger and his anger turns into violence.

He barely registers what he has done to Daniel until he sees his teammate—former teammate—on the floor, eyes wide and clutching his cheek. Max’s fist trembles. They are both horrified at what Max has done.

“Daniel, I—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?!” Daniel scrambles to a stand and lunges at Max. Max fears he’s going to get punched, too, and maybe he deserves it because he is the one who has thrown his fist first, but [Name] appears, quick as lightning, and rushes in between Daniel and Max.

“Daniel, calm down.”

Max is surprised you can hold Daniel down on your own. Daniel was a racer, had been since 2011, so he possessed the physical strength of a veteran racer and you, well, you're not. You’re shorter than them both, too.

Daniel is turning red in the face and fury paints his features. Max wants to fight, answer Daniel’s anger with his own. Fire to fire. Let them both burn until they achieve ruination.

“Nick!” you cry and at the call of his name, Nick appears quickly. “Hold Daniel!”

Your hands clutch Max’s nape and forearm and you quickly drag him away from the furious Daniel, leaving Nick to hold Daniel off and calm him down.

His ears are still ringing. Even after he's dragged away from the chaos. Even after he's brought into an empty room. Even after he sits down on a plush chair, face scarily blank while his mind runs for miles.

The ringing sound disappears when you tap his shoulder and asks, “You okay, big boy?”

His brain becomes a blank slate.

Max nods hesitantly, “Yeah.”

His knuckles are still tingling. He can still feel the remnants of the violence of his fist, can still feel the sting when his knuckles met Daniel’s cheek.

“Injuries?”

Why do you only speak words instead of full sentences?

You scan Max’s face for injuries and Max holds his breath when you lean your face closer to see clearly.

“No—No injuries.”

Your shoulders sag in relief, “Good. Thank fuck. Horner wouldn't be happy if golden boy got clocked.”

You pull yourself away and Max feels like he can breathe again. Then, you pivot on your heels.

“I’ll get you water.”

“No!”

You flinch and then turn to him slowly, your eyes growing wide and mouth falling slightly open. Max mirrors your surprise. You blink at him. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, your forehead creases and you close your mouth.

“No need to yell at me,” you mumble but Max hears it loud and clear and now, his anger is spiking up again.

“Fine, go!”

You raise a brow at him, giving him a long look. A sigh escapes your lips. You leaned against the door, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why aren't you leaving?”

“You don't want me to,” you say in a know-it-all tone.

“I told you to go!”

“What you want and what you say are two different things. Don't worry, I’ll stay for as long as you need.”

Max doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he sits there in the silence with his thoughts and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He’s sure you noticed that he’s trying not to cry, not with you standing in front of him. Max always makes weird faces when he forces himself not to cry.

But then you turn your back on him, not to leave, but to give him the privacy he needs.

His tears fall silently.

The 2018 WDC was Lewis Hamilton, who garnered 408 points by the end of the year. Max finishes in fourth, only after the Ferrari drivers, Sebastian Vettel and Kimi Raikkonen. The world thinks it is not a bad result. Max is still young and he’s battling three WDCs for points. But Max thinks otherwise. Winning is number one. The rest is just losing. The only thing he knows is he's not good enough. Jos is thinking of the same thing, too. He knows it.

Everytime someone congratulates him, Max has to bite his tongue and fake a smile. He can only feel anger, for finishing up fourth. It's like people are constantly reminding him of what he failed to become—a champion.

Red Bull throws an after party at the hotel bar, like they do at every Grand Prix, but Max chose not to go so he can drown in his own bitterness in the privacy of his hotel room.

A series of knocks on the door disturbs his ongoing rampage. He is sure it is his manager who’s behind the door. Archie possesses a horrible habit of appearing when he is not needed and not appearing when he is.

“What?!”

“Open the door, sour loser.”

That's not Archie.

Max’s jaw tenses. He marches towards the door and aggressively throws it open. It is you who stands behind it, an unimpressed expression printed on your face. Why is Daniel’s manager here?

“Who are you calling a loser?”

You sigh, peering your head in to look at his hotel room. You wince.

“Horner is not gonna be happy with how you trashed everything,” you begin. Max may or may not have thrown things across the room, punched a table and the wall, and accidentally broke a hotel-owned wall decoration. “Did you punch the wall?”

He did. But he’s not going to tell you that. Max hopes you don’t notice the peeling skin on his knuckles—red and angry and bloody.

“Can you leave?” he asks through gritted teeth. He hears you sigh. You do that a lot when you’re around him. Why?

You rummage through your tote bag—cream-colored with peach prints, the same one you wear all year round—and pull out a cold can of beer and a face towel.

“Lemme see.”

You reach for Max’s hand, which causes him to jerk back, his hand going behind him. You pause.

“I told you to leave.”

“Okay,” you shrug. You grab his wrist before he could dodge and you thrust the cold canned beer and face towel into his hand.

“Put this on your knuckles,” your tone leaves no room for further arguments. “Danny’s worried ‘bout you.”

“If he’s so worried about me, he shouldn't be leaving me,” Max snaps.

“Have you tried listening to his reasons?”

“Of course, I did!” Max is offended that you even feel the need to ask him that.

You purse your lips, “Maybe you did listen, just never tried to understand. I’d do the same thing, too, if I was Danny. No need to stay in a place where we’re no longer wanted.”

Max opens his mouth to bark back. How dare you utter such nonsense? You only stayed here for a year! ? You will never understand the relationship between Daniel and Max. You will never know Daniel the same way Max knows him.

“He isn't going to win anywhere else. We are going to get a new engine and the car will be better than this year. We’ll be better than Ferrari or Mercedes. We’ll be champions.”

I’ll be a champion, but Max leaves it unsaid.

“I know, heard it from the mechanics,” you shrug. “Maybe Danny won't win in another machinery. Maybe he will. Who knows? But if the team wanted Danny then that’s better. A team that wants and prioritizes Danny will treat him better than any team could. And right now, that's what he needs, a good team that supports him well.”

“Red Bull prioritizes him, too.”

“You're lyin’ to yourself, you know it. You of all people should know how shitty it feels to be number two and Danny is number two right now.”

Silence.

Number two. Cursed number two.

“Are you gonna follow Daniel, too?”

Max will not be surprised if you do.

You shrug.

“Let's wait and see.”

Then, you turn around and walk away, the soft click of your beige flats echoing in the hotel hallway until it fades into silence, while Max stands there at the open door, a cold canned beer and a face towel in his hand.

He uses the face towel to wipe the blood on his knuckle and uses the cold canned beer to help soothe the pain of forming bruises. Max wishes you brought something to ease the pain in his heart, too.

2019

The 2019 pre-season begins with Christian Horner saying that Archie, Max’s incompetent manager last year, has submitted a resignation letter. That makes Max Verstappen officially manager-less this year.

“For this season, since Daniel is no longer with us—” The corner of Max’s lips curve downwards. “[Name] does not have anyone to manage anymore. I was thinking of moving her to the engineering team but she was too efficient at managing Daniel last year. Would you mind if she becomes your manager? I assume you're both friends?”

Friends is not the appropriate term to describe what they are. Sure, they talked because Daniel talked with Max frequently and wherever Daniel was, [Name] is closely behind. Daniel also has this habit of dragging everyone into the conversation so no one will be left out. They also engaged in banter a few times, when Daniel’s not around and Max and her do not bother tolerating each other for the sake of the Australian racer.

For the most part, when Daniel is present, [Name] become the nicest person to ever grace the room, even Mother Teresa is put to shame, but when Daniel’s gone, [Name]’s saintess act disappears and enters an asshole who'll argue with Max and annoy him to oblivion. She absolutely vexes him.

Also, she's a terrible suck up. Max hates suck ups.

“She’ll be good for you,” Horner adds.

“Do you believe so?”

“I know she can handle you.”

Max raises a single questioning brow, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Nevertheless, Max has no choice. Horner believes she’ll be good for him and Max prefers having her as a manager than having none at all. God forbid he’ll be stuck manager-less. He can barely organize anything to save his life.

Even though they're not perfectly civil with each other, Max cannot deny the fact that [Name] is a good manager. It is like she possesses the uncanny ability of knowing everything Max needs without having him to voice it out and you do it without Max having to ask you. Which works greatly for Max. He really isn't the best at asking what he needs and people cannot mindread so he just sucks everything up until a simple thing gets blown out of proportion and he ends up blaming someone else for a problem that should have been solved had he voiced it out in the first place.

“PR sent me this,” you walk into the room early in the morning and Max groans because he’s still dealing with the hangover from last night so he cannot deal with your annoyingness right now. Despite hearing his dilemma, you put the iPad on the table and Max sees a picture of him drunk as fuck in a bar somewhere in Barcelona. He winces, looking away and not bothering to read the caption.

“They want you to clear shit up.”

“What's there to be cleared about?”

“People think we're datin’, darlin’. That's what you need to clear up.”

Max’s eyes go comically wide. Him and [Name]....dating? A blush graces Max’s cheeks.

You swipe down and show Max a video. The clip shows you walking out of the bar, warding off people with a passed out Max on your shoulder.

There are two things that immediately entered Max’s head at that moment:

Wow. You're really strong.

What the fuck? When did this happen?

“I’ll get you an Advil and soup. In the meantime,” you open a word document on your iPad. “You read this. Prepared a script ‘cuz you can’t improvise shit. We’ll film a press release vid when I come back, aight?”

You are gone before Max can even nod his head.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #f1 imagines #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader #mv1 #manager!reader

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touyyes · 1 year

Note

santa!toji who appears in your house, horny and desperate to find his ms. claus. just imagine you coming downstairs and you see him eating the cookies and milk, making him look up at you. knowing that he shouldn't fuck a mom while children are asleep, he ends up fucking you until he fills you up to the brim. the next morning, you don't have any recollection of the previous night's events — maybe you thought it was a dream, until you saw a note. santa!toji said that you're his ms. claus and will continue to come to your home and dick you down.

my brainrot for toji is so real 😩

didn't get to answer it before, but since its Christmas, im answering it now hehe

Santa! Toji who only visits the neighborhood milfs moms because even though tonight is his job to give presents to children, Santa needs a little gift of his own too. It's not easy working overtime!

Santa! Toji who stumbles upon you on his third home visit, seeing you clamber down the stairs from the sudden noise in your silk pajamas, catching him eating the cookies and milk you left for him

Santa! Toji who quickly gulps down half the milk at the sight of your arrival, imagining himself using the rest to pour down your tits that are currently peaking through your disheveled top

Santa! Toji who looks you up and down, taking in your form. 'No ring, huh?' He thinks. Even if you had one, he could care less but this just makes things a lot less of a hassle

Santa! Toji who beckons you over to him and you walk forward, in a trance, in a daze from your shock that Santa is a stupidly hot man that isn't like any of the beer bellied, crumb storing in his beard men that's advertised everywhere during the season

Santa! Toji who tells you to kneel down in front of him and you do, of course. Pushing his red slacks down to rest right underneath his balls as you lick his cock like a candy cane. And with how you think you're currently going insane 'I'm sucking Santa's dick oh my god', you think it does taste like a candy cane.

Santa! Toji who pulls you back up by the shoulders and leads you towards the couch, pushing the front of your hips to rest against the armrest, pulling your silk pajama pants down till they hang off your ankles. Calling you a slut for not wearing any panties, and how you must've prepared for his arrival

Santa! Toji who wastes no time coming face to face with your pussy and spreading your lips and folds open as he goes to town on your sweet taste

Santa! Toji who sucks and bites every surface of your ass cheeks, licks and swirls his tongue on every crevice of your pussy and ass. Savoring the flavor of you

Santa! Toji who thinks you're being such an obedient mommy for keeping your moans to a minimum to not wake your kids, finally granting you peace by the lining his cock up with your clenching hole and pushing in slowly. Complaining about how tight its grasp against his cock is but it won't be for long once he's done with you

Santa! Toji who puts you in 3 different positions on the couch, making you come for the 4th time tonight, and finally finishing off in your tight, wet throat with your head hanging upside down off the edge of the couch

Santa! Toji who quietly tucks you back in your bed after you passed out from exhaustion, taking care to put your pants back on and leaving a note for when you wake up: "Thank's for the cookies and milk, sweet thing."

#𝒊𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝑬𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 =͟͟͞͞♡#⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ — 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒 #this was very halfassed 😭😭#should i even tag this as toji x reader?? idk #i will ig #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji x you #jjk smut

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queerfables · 7 months

Text

Why all the crowd scenes look the same, aka: Something is WRONG in Soho

I'm not even gonna tease and draw this out because it's so cool it doesn't need the fanfare. Ready?

Season 2 takes place over the course of 5 days. During that time, most of the passersby in Soho - maybe even all of them - stay exactly the same. It's the same people every day, wearing the exact same clothes, and they wander through the neighbourhood in paths that don't make any sense. You won't be able to unsee it. I can't believe it's taken us this long to realise.

Don't believe me? Rewatch the scene from 2x03, I Know Where I'm Going where Shax confronts Crowley outside the bookshop, appearing in a series of different guises. Pay attention to the people going past.

I've marked out five people you see on screen when Crowley first exits the bookshop at 39:37:

Numbers 1, 2 and 3 are following the path right. Number 4 follows the path left. Number 5 crosses the road.

Here the five people are again, at 40:19, when Crowley goes to return to the bookshop:

Number 5 is still visible in the distance, in the direction she walked in. This makes sense! But numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4 are rounding the same corner they just passed. It's as though 1, 2 and 3 all decided to turn and head back the way they came just 40 seconds ago, and number 4 has circled the block to join them.

This on its own would be super weird, but they're not the only people to do that in this scene. The man in the purple sweater from the first picture crosses the road, then appears back next to the bookshop, then starts walking back the way he came again.

Here's the part that made me absolutely certain, though. At 40:05, a man wearing an orange hoodie with blue sleeves walks past Crowley, who is heading towards the bookshop entrance.

The camera cuts to a view from behind Crowley, and a moment later, at 40:08...

He reappears in front of Crowley and walks past him again.

It's such a distinctive outfit, there's no mistaking it. They are absolutely fucking with the background characters and they are absolutely doing it on purpose.

Your turn. There are at least three other characters in this scene who pass by multiple times. Watch it again and try to spot them.

This scene is really chaotic and obvious, but the phenomena I'm talking about is much bigger than just one scene. Let's go back to the first thing I said: the background characters don't change. All our leads do. Maggie and Nina wear distinctive outfits, clearly demarcating each new day. Even Crowley and Aziraphale, who in season 1 were like cartoon characters with wardrobes full of identical clothing, vary their looks. Crowley changes his (very subtly) each day; Aziraphale is less rigid on timing, but he has a few different coats that he switches between. The background characters, on the other hand, wear the same outfits every single day. They walk by on the street but they never actually seem to have a destination. They sit in the coffee shop or pub and don't eat or drink anything, and nearly everyone leaves together exactly on closing time. It's eerie.

For reference's sake, here's a rough timeline of season 2, with pictures of Maggie and Nina's outfits to show the passing of time. I had to outsource this section because my post was too image heavy, lol. The main point I wanted to make is that five days go by.

Five days, and all the same faces keep showing up in the background, and almost none of them change their clothes. I'm not entirely sure what it means, but there's no way it's an accident. It might, in fact, be a game changer. To me this is proof positive that something is not as it seems. I've been a massive Clue skeptic, adamant that I'd only be convinced by the most unambiguous evidence, and honestly? This is enough to move the dials. It's too big for me to ignore. Whatever grand explanation of Good Omens we come up with has to account for this. I don't have it yet, but my current working theories are that Crowley and Aziraphale are under some seriously heavy surveillance, that time warping is involved, or that reality itself is not what it seems.

It would take a really long time for me to go through all of the background characters who turn up over and over but I do want to show you what I'm talking about. To wrap up, then, I'm going to pick out some memorable characters and walk you through a few of their appearances through the week. I highly recommend looking out for this yourself on your next rewatch and seeing how many other characters you can recognise.

Yellow Skirt

The first person I kept coming back to as being not quite right. You probably remember her from the first episode - she's the one who waves and walks past Maggie and Nina the night they're locked in together. Incidentally, she's also Person Number 3 in the scene with Shax.

Day 1 (2x01 - 36:20):

Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)

Day 3 (2x03 - 06:36)

Day 5 (2x06 - 30:00)

Coolest Leather Jacket In The World

It's not so easy to recognise people wearing lots of nondescript dark colours, but I love his hair and his jacket, so he stood out to me. I think there might be a lot more people who are wearing fairly nondescript clothes who I just can't recognise from episode to episode.

Day 2 (2x02 - 16:44)

Day 4 (2x04 - 41:20)

Day 5 (2x06 - 29:20)

Dressed In Mustard

Ms Mustard shows up everywhere. If you want to see what I mean about their paths not making sense, pay attention when she comes on screen, because she'll often show up a few times in succession and walk very purposefully to nowhere in particular. The thing that she is doing, essentially, is behaving like an extra in a tv show. Which of course she is, but you're supposed to make that invisible by not having the same person go back and forth in the same scene, or changing up their outfit each in-universe day to give the sense time is passing. Not doing that is a really deliberate choice.

Day 1 (2x01 - 22:37)

Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)

Day 3 (2x03 - 01:49)

Day 3 (2x03 - 37:07)

Day 5 (2x06 - 29:59)

Swishy Dress

This character shows up a lot in the first episode. I've struggled to find her in later episodes, though. None of the characters seem to follow the same patterns or show up to equal extents each day, which makes me think this isn't a straightforward time loop. I haven't actually cross referenced character appearances to in world times, though. Possibly this is a project for someone who's more across the time-related shenanigans than me.

Day 1 (2x01 - 22:43)

Day 3 (2x03 - 07:01)

Yellow Vest

I've only seen this guy a handful of times, always around the French restaurant. I wonder if there's significance to that.

Day 2 (2x02 - 41:06)

Day 4 (2x05 - 12:49)

Fuzzy Blue Coat

Another background character who shows up frequently. The blue doesn't stand out quite as much as the yellows and reds some characters wear, but it's very distinctive.

While we're getting a lot of shots of the street, it's worth noting that I'm pretty sure the vehicles we see are also just the same few cars repeating each day. A lot of them are in neutral silvers and monochrome, but there's a couple of blue cars, one red, and one black and white that I'm fairly sure I've seen over and over through the season.

Day 1 (2x01 - 22:45)

Day 2 (2x02 - 42:04)

Day 3 (2x03 - 02:00)

Day 5 (2x06 - 40:10)

Day 5 (2x06 - 48:56)

Day 5 (2x06 - 50:06)

One final note: Whatever this is, Nina's employee who you see in the background at the coffeeshop sometimes isn't affected by it. He's wearing different outfits each day. On the other hand, some of the other shopkeepers do seem affected. I'm fairly sure Mr Brown and Mrs Sandwich wear the same outfits a few different days, only changing because of Aziraphale at the ball.

And that's it! Thanks for reading and I hope your mind is blown as much as mine is.

EDIT:

Hey I don't mind anyone pointing out production reasons that this might be the case or disagreeing with my analysis (over-analysis, some might say 😉). Please be kind about it, though. I'm not ignorant of the practical limitations involved in film making, but some of these costumes were really distinctive in a way I thought might be intended to draw attention.

For those of you who do find this theory convincing, I feel I should mention that I was working under the assumption that this stuff would have taken a few days to film, even filming it all together. That would strongly suggest that the actors were deliberately costumed the exact same way over multiple days of shooting, which made me think it had to be purposeful. @coranax was kind enough to point out, though, that behind the scenes videos said the extras were filmed separately to the main actors because of Covid protocols. In that case, they could have done it in just one day and that weakens my confidence in its intentionality.

Finally, all of my points about the scene with Shax in 2x03 stand. That was not a case of accidental continuity errors, it was really elegantly choreographed to enhance the tension in the scene. I say that with confidence because the extras are doing exactly what Shax is doing: circling Crowley, appearing where he doesn't expect them, creating a whirlwind sense of being off balance and out of control. I think it's really cool and effective, whether there's a deeper meaning to it or not.

#good omens #good omens meta #fable talks good omens

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disneyprincemuke · 6 months

Text

our spot * ls2

a text from you is the last thing logan expects when he's back home for the holidays especially when it's your first text in almost two years

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of infidelity

notes: YOOO how is it that i've been screaming about oscar and sebastian for weeks yet i write about logan first anyway? hope u enjoy this bc i OFC enjoyed breaking my own heart while writing this <;/3

super long read btw, it's like 3.7k words

(f1 masterlist)

(part two)

logan isn't back home very often. he doesn't exactly have the chance to, given his circumstances. so when he is, it's typically a nice breath of fresh air. because that's where you are.

or at least, used to be.

he doesn’t hear from you often anymore. since he’d gotten busier with his promotion to f1, it’s been a lot harder to keep in touch with you.

admittedly, he does miss you. but what right does he have to tell you that outwardly?

the only way he knows what’s going on with you are whatever you let the public know of yourself. your instagram posts and stories don’t come often, so logan might as well consider you a stranger.

he only knows one thing, that his mother let slip over the phone during their call, that you’ve started seeing somebody recently. he doesn’t know if you’re still together — the man his mother speaks of doesn’t exist on any of your platforms.

perhaps it’s because it’s only hearsay? but you’ve always been sort of a private person yourself, so he’s not exactly surprised.

logan sighs to himself, rolling his chair over to the window that faces what used to be your bedroom. the window is shut with its curtains drawn.

you moved out the moment you turned 18. he once had your address when you gave it to him, and he kicks himself over the fact that he never got around to visiting you and seeing how you’ve come into your own.

he never got to see the apartment you would talk about growing up and all the decorations you planned on putting up.

he wonders, did you ever keep the framed picture with him when you went to disneyworld as kids? did you bring it with you?

logan huffs and pulls down his blinds. he turns to face his room, leaning back into his seat. it’s the holidays, but there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do with absolutely nobody.

his friends have all gone back to visit and spend time with family. he spent his first couple of days with his family, but even they’ve got better things to eventually.

all he can do is train for his next season.

he decides to finally get up to his feet, grabbing the gym bag that sits on the edge of his bed. he’s just about to drive to the gym when his phone lights up his dim bedroom.

a notification from you that makes his heart race and hands shake. a text from you is the last thing he expected out of his visit.

he hasn’t talked to you in nearly 2 years.

heard ur back home

he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. he doesn’t write a reply immediately, so much hesitation and confusion mixing in his mind.

it’s taken him so off guard that he comes to a realisation that he doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore.

just for the holidays, im headed back to the uk after new year’s

your response is quick.

our spot

logan’s got no idea what you mean by that. until another text from you comes in.

10 minutes. see u

oh. you’re actually asking to see him.

suddenly he’s got no idea what to do. does he actually go?

he’s pacing around his room, frantically searching for the things he’d need to go and see you. which, wouldn’t actually be much. just his phone, his wallet, and

his gaze lands on the sad pile in the corner of his room, trinkets he’s collected from traveling the world in his first season. collected just for you, like you’d always talked about growing up.

now begs the question: does he bring it with him or does he just forget it ever existed?

doesn’t matter. he grabs his phone and wallet, heading out the door. his history with you is never spoken about.

maybe once, on a drunken night in australia with oscar. when he asked logan why he’s still visibly single, logan explained his situation.

how you kissed him the day he was leaving to stay in europe to fully commit to his junior career. how you’d called him every single night when you were teenagers, waiting around months at a time for him to come by for a short visit.

how you told him you loved him one evening when you were 19, in london when you were over for a visit. and how he had to put it on hold for his junior career, and never had the chance to get around to it because of his commitments to formula 1 now.

he had put it on hold, thinking you’d be around forever for him to come back to. he knows now that he’s never been more wrong in his life.

oscar never brought it up again after seeing the american choke on his words and laugh nervously as he retold the story.

when he found out you were seeing somebody, his heart broke. but he couldn't get himself to ask you about it. he knows it's his fault that you're in somebody else's arms now.

he quietly pads through his home, trying to pass his family members who have all resided in their individual bedrooms. even they've got no idea what's gone down between you two.

as far as they're concerned, you just simply drifted apart with time.

he parks his pickup truck right between the methodist building and what used to be the school you attended together growing up. he sits behind the wheel, eyes scanning the dark for any signs of you being here.

it's not a very far drive, only 5 minutes from his house and yours. just a playground that you used to hang at when you were growing up. when the world got too loud, this is where you'd come to regain composure.

he'd caught you one evening sitting here all alone when you were 8, and it's become your spot for late-night talks ever since. right on that green slide is where logan told you that he wanted to be an f1 driver when he was older.

it was on that blue swing that you admitted the crush you've had on him your entire life, and he reciprocated.

his heart races in his chest, unsure if you'd meant what you texted him. what if you bailed and this was all some sick twisted joke you're pulling on him?

and a random car pulls up in front of the methodist. he anticipates the moment you'd crawl out of the driver's seat, looking different from the last time he saw you - which was about 2 years ago when he last talked to you.

but after about a second, the backseat door opens, your leg poking out with your hair dishevelled in a ponytail. you close the door as you step onto the sidewalk, tugging down your dress that's hiked up your thighs as the car drives off.

logan finally turns off his engine, stepping out shortly after you. your eye roams the quiet street, locking into his as he watches you take a deep breath.

he nods, pointing towards the playground. you nod. he locks his truck and slowly makes his way to the brightly lit playground between the two establishments.

you make a beeline for the swing, dropping yourself down and bending forward to unstrap the heels that suffocate your feet. logan's not even going to ask where you'd come from all dolled up.

he occupies the empty swing next to you, clasping his hands together and placing them between his knees. it's a lot colder than he initially anticipated and his sweatpants are barely keeping him comfortable.

you sit in silence for the next couple of minutes. there's chatter from the methodist building next to you. you pick at your nails, trying to soften your breathing.

it's only then logan notices that your cheeks are flushed and the smell of alcohol in the air. which is obviously not coming from either place that surrounds both of you.

"are you drunk?" logan starts in a whisper, craning his neck down trying to get a look at you.

you look at him from the side of your eyes, lips pouted out in a frown. "tipsy," you correct him, "not drunk."

he nods to himself, rocking back and forth on the swing. he leans his head on the chain that holds his body up. he doesn't really know what to say.

in fact, he doesn't think there's much to say. you were the one who started ghosting him all those years ago. he's not upset or bitter about it, but he completely understands why you'd done it.

if he were in your position, he can almost guarantee that he would have taken the same measures.

"how long have you been back?" you ask, eyes tracing the design on the rubber playground floor. "why didn't you tell me?"

logan raises his eyebrows. "uh," he stutters, "i didn't know i had to. i'm sorry."

you shrug. "you didn't have to," you trail off, dropping your head low to avoid his gaze. "i just thought you would've told me when you'd come for a visit. we haven't seen each other in a while."

yeah, 2 years, he wanted to say.

"it's cause we haven't seen each other in a while that i didn't think to tell you i'm back home," logan admits solemnly, pressing his lips together. "i'm sorry, though. if i knew, you would've been the first person i told."

"i'm sorry i stopped picking up your calls," you suddenly say softly. "and answering your text messages. and telling my parents to tell you i'm away on vacation every time you came to visit."

he just nods. it hurt when you first started distancing yourself from him. but, what can he do?

he sort of caught on in the second week after you let him facetime call ring twice without an answer. that would’ve marked the fifth call you ignored, and the twentieth text you left him on delivered.

so he dropped it. he thought that maybe you would come around when he comes back to miami. apparently not, because you were ‘away’ on a trip with friends. which, now he knows, could possibly be just a lie.

logan smiles, mostly to himself as you’re looking straight ahead at the playground’s structure. “i get it. it’s alright.”

“no, really,” you adjust yourself to look at him with a sigh. “i feel horrible every single day about what i did. but i just didn’t know how to cope with the fact that you put me in the backseat when i was right there.”

“hey.” logan slumps his shoulders. suddenly he feels a tinge of guilt in his chest, and no amount of quick convincing makes it go away. “i understand why you did what you did. you deserve to be with someone who puts you first. i didn’t do that.”

you shake your head. a small smile creeps up on your face, looking up as your eyes start to glisten under the lights. “you don’t get it.”

“what do you mean?”

“i miss you,” you say in a sigh. “i thought you said you loved me too?”

“i did,” logan nods. then he corrects himself: “i do.”

“i still think of you,” you admit with a small smile. you laugh dryly to yourself before looking ahead at the playground. “sometimes i wonder how different our lives would be if i’d just never… stopped waiting.”

logan rests his head on the chain that holds the swing up. “sometimes i wonder how nice it’d be if i’d just,” he sighs, “chosen you.”

“same.”

he can see himself on the playground with you all those years ago. sitting in the structure, giggling with one another as you talk about your separate lives.

your lives seem to come together when you’re on that playground, though you walk separate paths that would prove to be more detrimental to your friendship.

you’d indulge one another in gossip the other had no idea about, but tried their hardest to relate and mirror frustrations. more often than not, a notebook is laid down on the ground between you while you try to draw out the situation of said gossips.

it always makes logan cringe thinking of how invested he’d gotten in your drama with your friends.

“i’m seeing somebody,” you whisper.

“i heard from mum.”

“yeah.”

logan takes a few breaths. “is he good to you?”

you nod. he just smiles then plants his feet into the ground. “that’s good. i’m so happy for you.”

“he’s not you, though, logan.”

he turns his head, looking at you in shock. “what?”

“i want you to tell me i’ve made a mistake,” you say flatly, turning your head to look at him with a frown. “tell me i shouldn’t be with him.”

“i can’t say that to you,” logan frowns, eyebrows furrowing at your sudden request. “i can’t decide that for you.”

you take a deep breath, shakily letting it out. “tell me you still want me, logan. and i’m all yours.” you sigh. “but i need you to say it to my face. cause i won’t wait for you if you don’t ask me to stay.”

logan searches your eyes for any sort of hesitation, or signs of backing off. but he doesn’t. you’ve got that same glimmer in your eye that he’s seen over and over again.

“i do,” he sighs, shaking his head. “i really do. but i can’t promise you anything. i’ll only break your heart. you know this. we lead two very different lives.”

you shrug, dropping your head again. “we could make it work. you’ll never really know.”

“please don’t do this. you’re with somebody else who gives you the world, i’m sure,” he tried to explain to you. “better than i can. you know at least that for a fact.”

you finally stand up, fists clenched by your side. “i can see it in your eyes, logan. you don’t want things to be this way — i’m giving you a chance to change the course of things.”

he looks up at you, lips parted and mind running with thoughts that all contradicted one another.

not talking to you took a while to get used to. especially when he moved up to formula 1, it was hard to find someone to talk to who would listen to him talk without judgement.

he needed your presence the most when he felt so out of place in his environment; like he was an imposter who didn’t deserve to be where he did.

your sudden departure from his life took a harder hit than he cares to admit. he thought about you every single day: the one person who can tell which smiles he fakes on the daily.

the ultimatum you’re giving him is too tough to make a decision on the spot. in hindsight, he’s not only breaking your heart, but also his.

logan sighs, standing up to tower over you. he hovers a hand over your shoulder. “let me drive you home.”

“no, come on, logan!” you shove his hand away from you and stumble a step back. “do something for once! risk something!”

“it’s not that easy.”

“but it is,” you say, matter-of-factly, giving him a stare of indifference. you hold your arms up by your side and raise your eyebrows. “i know my pain is such an imposition. but i’m tired of feeling like this when i know how you feel for me!

“when i know how to make this pain go away. work with me here, logan.”

“i can’t do that because there are more important things on the line for me right now!” logan spits at you, throwing his hands into the air. “i do, okay! i do love you! i think about you every single day, but i can’t throw away everything i’ve ever worked for just to be with you!”

“who says you’ve got to do that?” you shout back, shoving him slightly. “i’m asking you to choose me alongside everything you’ve got, not drop your entire career for me!”

“i’m a fucking laughing stock, do you not see what’s circulating the internet?” he asks exasperatedly with an eyeroll. “you don’t want that going for you. i’ve got bigger things to work on.”

he turns on his heel and walks towards his truck. when he doesn’t hear your footsteps following him, he stops halfway and turns to you. “get in the car, i’m driving you back.”

“so this is how it’s going to be?” you laugh dryly, gesturing at your surroundings with a finger point. “you’re just going to push me aside because you think you can’t give me what i need?”

“i don’t think it — i know so.”

“and what exactly is it that you think i need?”

“somebody to show up for you when it matters,” logan huffs, slowly making his way back over to you. “somebody who can love you even on his worst days; who can take you out on dates, love you on your bad days, and just be there for you.

“i can’t even do that for myself. what the hell makes you think i can do all of that for you?”

he stops right in front of you, chest heaving from frustration and eyebrows furrowed as he towers over you. “i won’t be the person who can give you what you need. not now, i’m still working to be better.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i’m done with this conversation, (y/n),” he sighs, taking a step back. the smell of your perfume increases his urge to just pull you into his arms, but he can’t do that to you, himself, or the guy you’re with. “get in the car, i’m driving you home.”

"fine, whatever," you snap, folding your arms over your chest and stomping towards him to reach the white pickup truck by the corner.

when he planned on coming home for the winter break, you reaching out was never one of his things to expect. he thought that you were absolutely done with him, given that you hadn't talked to him in nearly two years.

his brothers giving him flack for his formula 1 season, maybe, but you confessing your feelings for him all over again? he hadn't ever thought about it in a million years.

when he climbs into the driver's seat, you've already fastened your seatbelt. your legs are crossed, like your arms over your chest, and your body is tilted towards the window.

logan sighs. "(y/n). please understand it from my side. i don't want to hurt you any more than i already have. you don't deserve this."

you still don't meet his eyes. your eyes are trained on the dark scenery outside with a prominent frown on your face. "just take me back to my parents' house."

"what about your apartment?"

"i put it out on the market a month ago," you admit softly as logan turns on the engine. "i'm moving out of miami."

now, logan is typically a well-tempered person. growing up with brothers, it's definitely one way to train that aspect of yourself.

but the last time he had asked you to reconsider moving to the united kingdom with him after graduation, you had refused. because your life is here in miami: your family, your friends, and everything you've ever known.

all of a sudden, you're moving out of here?

he hadn't faulted you initially, but he might just start seeing a change of heart if it comes down to this.

logan shifts in his seat uncomfortably, lifting his foot from the gas pedal. suddenly he's curious to know more about what's going on in your life: moving out of the house is one thing for you, but moving to a completely different place is something else.

"where are you going?"

"new york for a couple months," you say, staring at the street ahead. "just for some training. after that, i'm off to germany. i got a job offer."

"what about your boyfriend?"

"i haven't told him about it yet," you shrug, "i've been thinking of you too much to consider what is to come of the relationship eventually."

"you shouldn't do that. i'm not your boyfriend."

a dry scoff passes your lips. "thanks, i actually know that."

he pulls up to the front yard of his home. pulling up the handbrake, he turns to you with a hand on the backrest of your seat. "i'm serious. don't sabotage whatever you've got going on for you. embrace it."

"really?" you scrunch your nose as you turn to face him. "life advice from someone who keeps sabotaging all of the lifelines i keep throwing out for him to save what we had going on for years?"

logan sighs. he raises his hands to surrender. "fine. do what you want. i only want the best for you and i know it's not me."

"whatever, logan," you scoff, taking off your seatbelt. you throw it back into place and unlock the car door, pushing it open. "i won't be around forever: remember that."

you crawl out and slam the door behind you. all logan can do is sink in his seat and watch you cross the road, walk up to your front door and shut that behind you as well. you don't spare him another look, which is when it all washes over him like tsunami waves.

but as much as he wants you, he will have to stand true to his words. because he knows his truth: he isn't the person you deserve to be with.

431 notes · View notes

reiding-writing · 17 days

Note

AHH YAYAYAYAYAY I LOVE THIS SERIES SM IM SO GLAD YOU OPENED YOUR REQUESTSSSS!! okay sooooo, i was wondering if you could do a lil continuation of the last part where spencer visits reader in prison and reader’s all confused because they never get visitors and then they see it’s spencer and get all excited (maybe spencer comes to tell reader that he spoke to the court or wherever is considering their appeal, idk how that whole process works lmao, and he’s told them that he believes reader isn’t a threat and that they should be moved to a psychiatric facility instead of staying in prison)

AHH OKAY LUV U BYE 🫶🫶🫶

THE FIRST VISIT

spencer reid&gn!unsub!reader || 2.2k || bloodied roses event!!

WARNINGS: sociopathic!reader, prison guards being dicks, early-seasons!spencer

a/n — thank you mllll 🫶 glad you like the series <333

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ unsub!reader masterlist!!

It’s been almost eight months since you returned to the California Correctional Institution. Back to the familiar concrete walls of your own personal hell and practically sitting stationary as the world span around you.

It was arguably worse than just giving you the death penalty, forced to live in a stupidly awful state of limbo where you did nothing but languish in your own boredom for 23 hours a day without so much as a pen and a piece of paper to satiate you—lest you stab someone with it during your ‘recreational’ hour outside your cell.

The progress of your appeal was slow, basically static, and whilst you weren’t surprised, it was beginning to frustrate you. Why would they drag everything out when you knew they were just going to reject you anyway?

It was stupidly idiotic and a waste of everyone’s time, including yours.

There’s a sharp knock on the door of your cell, then someone slides open the metal hatch, leaving a grating sound in its wake.

“Hands.”

The borderline condescension in his tone makes you want to shove his tongue down his throat, but you know when to pick your battles, so you stick both of your hands through the slot palms up and wait for the familiar cold metal of handcuffs against your wrists.

They’re far too tight as they’re clamped shut, pinching your skin uncomfortably to the point where you’re sure it’ll leave marks, and you bite back the urge to curse out the guard his clear incompetence as he unlocks the door and pulls you out by the metal connecting your hands.

His expression matches his rashness as he forces you down the corridor with another guard to his side, and you swear that if you weren’t acting on your best behaviour for the minuscule chance that they did actually approve your appeal you would’ve given the two a piece of your mind already.

“Where are we going?”

No answer.

“Why am I out of my cell?”

“Shut up before I muzzle you.”

Oh the urge to punch that man in the face.

You settle for a side eye that would probably be the only thing the State Officials needed to reject your appeal knowing how much they despised you for existing, and the rest of the walk is finished in a thick blanket of silence.

The room they lead you into is technically two, lined by a thick pane of glass that splits the room in half, an uncomfortable looking metal chair and floating table with a rotary phone on either side.

“Sit down.”

A small flare of your nose is the only display of your rising anger, your paper-thin composure shrivelling millimetre by millimetre every second you’re forced to look at his stupid face.

You sit down with an air of curiosity. It was very clearly a visitation room you’d been led to, but who in their right mind would choose to visit you? Who had the leeway to get to visit you from inside one of the highest security prisions in the state when getting access to do so was almost impossible?

You just hoped it wasn’t someone from the appeal board. They were always so monotonous and boring.

You sit waiting for almost five minutes, watching the barred clock on the wall tick away until there’s a click from one of the exterior doors and then the door on the other side of the room opens.

And the vexation in your expression shifted into something much more resembling amusement.

The sounds of the chair being dragged out from the table is muffled through the glass, as is the sound of him sitting down, but when he picks up the phone on his table a sharp ringing echoes through the one on yours as a physical show of his presence.

You watch it ring for a few seconds before you turn your attention to the guard standing behind you, and you hold your wrists up towards him expectantly, watching the indignation rise in his face as reluctantly pulls out the keys to remove your handcuffs.

The freedom of your wrists is short-lived though, and almost immediately after you’re uncuffed, your dominant hand is dragged back down to the table to be cuffed against it, a loud thud emanating from it at the edge of your hand catches on its edge.

You’re less perturbed under the presence of your visitor, but you’re sure the seething anger is present enough in your eyes for the guard to see it nonetheless.

Regardless, with one hand free of restraint, you pick up the ringing phone and hold it to your ear, leaning back in your chair with an almost entertained expression.

“Doctor Reid, came all the way to California to visit little old me?”

There’s a small twitch in the corners of his mouth as he restrains himself from smiling at your tone.

He shouldn’t be smiling at a serial killer. Especially not inside a maximum security prison with four guards present.

“I told you I would,”

“That you did,” You give a small nod of acknowledgment against the phone at his statement, eyebrows raised ever so slightly to break the otherwise barren planes of your face. “Didn’t think you’d go through with it,”

“It wasn’t easy,” Spencer lets out a small breath of a laugh, pressing his lips together awkwardly. “There was a lot of paperwork involved,”

He’s mildly embarrassed by his confession, that he’d jumped through so many hoops to be able to visit you like he told you he would. That he’d flown across the country to see you whilst lying to the team that he was going to visit his mother.

“That’s a lot of effort,” There’s a small scrunch of your eyebrows at your response, not a show of sympathy for everything he’d done to be there in person but more of judgement that he’d put himself through it at all.

You hadn’t asked him to visit you. He told you he would, and followed through on it of his own fruition.

“I thought it’d be better to speak to you in person rather than over the phone,”

“You’re still speaking to me over a phone Dr Reid,” You jostle the phone in your hand slightly as a show of your point, and the small quirk of your mouth tells him that you’re joking with him.

“You know what I mean,” Spencer’s expression mirrors yours in the way he almost smiles, and he lets out a short breath of light-hearted exasperation. “I wanted to see you, not just hear you,”

“Well,” You make an outward gesture with your freehand as you lean against the back of your chair again, crossing one leg over the other. “You’re seeing me,”

That he is. You don’t look quite like you did when you joined the BAU on the case, a little paler, thinner, your hair is a little longer and there’s a notable number of bruises covering your arms.

He doesn’t need an eidetic memory to know where those have come from. Although the sound of your wrist hitting the edge of the table at the start of conversation would definitely be stapled into his mind for a while.

“So then, what constitutes a visit from you Dr Reid?”

“I wanted to talk to you about your appeal,”

Any and all whisper of minuscule enjoyment at Spencer’s presence evaporates from your face the minute the word ‘appeal’ comes out of his mouth. It’s honestly fascinating just how fast your demeanour changes, although he’s not sure why it would, surely your appeal would be something of interest to you, not something you actively don’t want to talk about.

“Seriously? You fly all the way over here and you want to talk about my appeal? You do realise this—” You gesture back and forth between the two of you, “—is the one hour I get out of my cell today right? I’m not going to spend it talking about the stupid appeal.”

Seemed like he’d hit a sore spot.

“I just wanted to say that it’s looking pretty good for you,” He cuts straight to the point, not wanting to ruffle you more than he unintentionally had but also wanting to make sure that the main reason for his visit in the first place— apart from the fact that you’d inhabited a corner of his brain for the last eight months and wouldn’t leave no matter how hard he tried—was actually aired out.

You let out a small scoff into the phone’s receiver, and it’s almost grating as it meets Spencer’s ears. “You don’t have to lie to me Dr Reid, I know they’re just dragging everything out until they can find a reason to reject it.”

“They have three weeks before the deadline for their decision, they won’t find anything,” There’s an air of confidence in Spencer’s assessment, but it doesn’t do anything in chipping away your preconceived notion of failure.

“I submitted a report on the BAU’s behalf,” He is decidedly less confident in admitting that second part, left hand subconsciously reaching towards the rolled up sleeve on his right arm to ease the nervous tension in his hands. “To try and support it through the final stages,”

“Leave your arm alone.” You seem to almost completely disregard what Spencer says, and he practically does the same himself as his eyes flicker down towards where his left hand is absentmindedly scratching at the inside of his right elbow, leaving red streaks on his skin.

He pulls his hand away with his lips pressed taut into a line, stuffing it into his pocket so he can’t be tempted to do it again. “Sorry,”

“What did you write in your report?” You’re over it before he can even get his apology out, and he clears his throat to regain his sense of composure, tightening his grip on the phone so it doesn’t slip out of his hand under the small film of sweat coating his palm.

“You uh— displayed a lot of your humanity on the case, especially towards your family, and I thought it’d be beneficial for the officials considering your transfer to know that fact,”

You let out a small exhale through your nose, lips quirked upwards ever so slightly. He could almost believe that you were grateful for his contribution, but then you started speaking and the condescension in your tone was enough to tell him that you were definitely not displaying ‘gratefulness’.

“That’s not gonna do jack shit,”

Spencer sighs softly, eyes flickering downwards for a second in ever so slight disappointment in your reaction to his attempt at helping you.

He doesn’t really know what he was expecting from you, but having you disregard it so easily definitely blew the wind out of his sails a little bit.

“You’d be surprised I think,” His attempt at redeeming himself isn’t the most thought through thing he’s ever done, but then again he’s sat in a maximum security prison talking to a serial killer, so arguably he’s done worse. “In cases like yours for ASPD, having someone as a witness of your humanity could really help out your chances,”

“Yeah we’ll see about that,” You don’t seem as frustrated with him as you do disbelieving. Like no matter what evidence he tried to provide you of your decently likely chance of actually getting a transfer you’d made it up in your mind that it was never going to happen.

“Do you… want the appeal to go through?”

You scoff. “What kind of question is that?”

”It’s just, you’ve decided that it’s not going to go through, don’t you— I don’t know, want it to?”

”Of course I do.”

“Then—” Spencer presses his lips together with a short sigh. “…have some faith, If not in me being able to help you then at least in yourself,”

There’s silence over the line for a few seconds, and Spencer can see the cogs turning in your brain as you decide how you want to respond.

You don’t get the chance to.

“That’s it. Ten minutes is over.”

The phone is practically snatched from your hands to be placed back on the receiver, and there’s a sharp end-dial on Spencer’s before he puts his own phone down and readies himself to stand.

The roughness in the guards as the pull you from your seat and re-cuff you is almost aggressive, and the self-restraint you put on yourself to not respond to it is so decadently on display that it’s proof enough for him to believe your appeal will go through.

He hopes that your appeal goes through.

If for nothing else at least so you don’t get dragged around like a ragdoll by the people who are supposed to be reforming you.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #unsub!reader #bloodied roses 🥀

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judebelle · 6 months

Note

Comforting gavi bc of his injury 🥹

it'll be okay - p.g. x reader

a/n : couldn't find a gif of him in the spain vs georgia match but gavi get well soon!

cw : fluff, angst, pablo in pain, injury, poor medical references, me using my limited knowledge of acl injuries lmao, reader not knowing how to comfort him, swearing, barely edited

wc : 1.6k

pairing : pablo gavi x fem!reader

---

the one game.

the one game you couldn't make it to was the one game that you needed to be at the most.

your boyfriend, pablo gavi, was playing for spain in a euro qualifier. you had an exam that day, so you couldn't be there to support him.

"no te preocupes, baby. good luck on your exam." (don't worry, baby. good luck on your exam.)

that was the last text your boyfriend sent you after you apologized again for not being there for him, even though you were already right outside your exam room.

with his reassurance, you stepped into the room and tried your best on the exam.

you weren't sure as to why pablo had to start for this match. spain had already qualified and he was already overworked as it was, but you didn't question his coach and managers and just brushed it under the rug.

unbeknownst to you, pablo had suffered an injury during the match. as you completed your exam, unaware of the events unfolding on the field, pablo battled through the game with determination. eventually, the fatigue took its toll, and he found himself nursing an injury that would later reveal itself as a full tear of his acl as well as an associated injury to his lateral meniscus.

your absence from the game meant that the news of his injury remained hidden from you, leaving you unsuspecting of the challenges he faced without your support.

you exited the exam hall, confident that your relentless studying had paid off. you opened your phone, intending to message pablo about your exam. you completely forgot about his match until you saw a ridiculous amount of notifications on your lock screen. as you scrolled, your heart sank upon discovering the news. shock and concern shook you as you read the details of your boyfriend's injury.

many reports outlined the severity of the situation, describing how pablo had most likely torn his acl during the match. a wave of guilt and empathy washed over you as you absorbed the gravity of the news. instantly, you dialed pablo's number, desperate to speak with him.

your heart sank at the monotone beeps that met your ear. stupid idea, he wasn't going to pick up the phone when his whole fucking knee was messed up. you realized that you were too far from the stadium to rush over there, so you sent him a few texts notifying him of your knowledge of the situation and made your way to your shared home.

---

you knew that there was not much you could do in terms of helping with the injury. all you knew was that pablo will be gutted when he gets back. you weren't an expert, but you saw the clip of the injury and the tears that spilled from his eyes. this was a serious injury and he would have to sacrifice a good chunk of the season recovering.

that's when a guilty feeling settled in your chest. you would've no doubt, skipped your exam to be there had you miraculously known what was in store for him. maybe if you were in the stands, you would've been able to see if he was okay and talk to him.

as you entered the house, you hurriedly kicked off your shoes and washed your hands, getting the house as comfortable for him as possible. you fixed up the bed, put a few ice packs in the freezer, and started making his comfort foods.

being an athlete means that pablo is always on a pretty strict diet, but you snuck in a few treats in his bed side drawer because you knew he'd need them.

after what seemed like an eternity of waiting and anxious preparing, you finally heard buzzing from your phone.

"hello? pablo?"

you heard a pained grunt and some shuffling before he strained out,

"y/n.."

"oh, thank god you're okay! what's happening? any updates yet? when are you coming home?"

pablo interrupted your rambling with a soft laugh, almost forced, before speaking. "despacio, mi amor," (slowly, my love.)

you pause your tangent, freezing in place and waiting for him to say something. you're about to start speaking again when you hear the front door start to open pablo's voice on the phone.

"i'm home."

---

two men walked beside him in case he needed assistance walking through the front door, but he was more than capable on his crutches. you dropped the phone from your hand as you saw pablo walking in from your place in the kitchen. you rushed over and he sent you a tight lipped smile. he told the two men that they're good to leave, and they did.

you finally walked closer to him, wanting to throw yourself onto him but stopping once you remembered his condition. you huffed in annoyance before ultimately pushing your lips against his fiercely, but not too hard.

he kissed back, but couldn't wrap his arms around you as he needed to hold his crutches to stand. you broke away and looked down at his knee. he was wearing a grey tracksuit, but you could see something under his pants on his left knee, most likely a brace of some sort.

"pablo, you have no idea how confused i am.. what happened? tell me everything!" you led him to the kitchen while walking beside him incase he needed help. he begins to fill you in on how he was challenged during the match and he didn't quite turn right, and his knee was already hurting from the beginning of the match, but they told him to play on.

"they ran some tests. i don't know what the results are yet, but they're quite sure that i completely tore my acl and injured my meniscus. if they're right.. i could be out for around nine months. my season is done.."

you had no idea what exact muscles and tissues and bones pablo was naming, but yo knew that acl injuries were no joke, and needed to be taken seriously. also knowing pablo, he plays passionately and has had a great season so far. the fact that it's being cut short is not fair to him.

nothing is.

"ai.." you hissed sympathetically "well, i don't know much about acl's, but i do know that you need to rest properly. and you being the stubborn man that you are, i will be here to make sure you do exactly that, okay?"

you didn't give him time to respond before placing some plates and bowls on a tray and taking them upstairs, telling pablo to stay put. you hurried back downstairs before helping up the stairs, letting him use the crutches as well.

after a few minutes, he was upstairs and into bed. you sat beside him on the bed, his head turning when he felt it dip.

"i smell food.." he smiles sheepishly as you giggled. he must've been hungry after the match. you lifted the tray from the table beside you and placed it beside him. you placed a pillow under his head, making sure he was sitting slightly upright.

you sat crisscrossed beside him and took a spoonful of a soup you made him, blowing lightly as you smiled at him. he was waiting patiently while looking up at you. you brought the spoon to his lips and tilted so he could sip. you did this until the bowl was empty.

pablo, once again being the stubborn man he is, tried to tell you that he didn't need all the fuss, and that you could relax. well, you were even more stubborn. you let him sip water through a straw before turning on his favorite show on low volume on the tv.

"baby, i don't need all this-"

"shh, just relax, cariño. let me take care of you.."

you layed beside him and moved his head to lay slightly on your chest, his eyes still fixed on the sreen.

you had propped up his right leg, under a spare pillow, making sure to keep an eye on it. the doctors would be doing frequent visits and you were determined to make his healing process as smooth as possible.

"you really are an angel, you know that, y/n?" he looked up at you, the glare from the tv shining in his brown eyes.

"you've only told me that a hundred times, guapo." you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

he hummed softly at the contact, needing the relief.

"i just... i wish i didn't have to miss the whole season. i was doing really well.. it's not fair."

"i know it isn't, pablo. if you ask me, you shouldn't have been starting that match. you need your rest, you're still young."

he huffed in annoyance, letting out all his frustration.

the room fell silent, the faint sounds of the show you had turned on filling the air.

"y/n..?" he whispered gently. he sounded nervous.

you hummed in response.

"what if - when i return - i'm not in the same shape that i was.. what if i can't play well anymore?"

his words broke your heart. he shouldn't have to worry about this at his age. you sighed softly, your hand running through his soft locks. his eyes fluttered shut. he always liked when you did that.

"you won't have to worry, baby. as long as you rest properly, and take it easy, you will be fine. the more you worry, the worse it will get. just.. just let me take care of you. everything will be okay. it will fall into place."

his lips stretched into a soft smile, your words calming him. your hand was still running through his hair, making pablo's adam's apple bob up and down.

"i love you." he whispered, his eyes opening to look into your eyes as he said it.

you bit your lip and smiled softly.

he looked so cute.

"i love you too."

you pressed your lips to his again before leaning into each others warmth.

you both drifted off to sleep.

670 notes · View notes

backofhismomsmercury · 13 days

Text

spencer reid nsfw alphabet

( @backofhismomsmercury edition :3 )

18+ mdni. or don’t, what u view online is up 2 u.

this is like mostly softdom!spencer (what else is new)

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

tooth achingly sweet. like just so so so soo loving, he’d just lay with you and hold you and tell you how good you did/how proud he is, and how much he loves and appreciates you (im gnawing at the bars of my enclosure)

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

literally his brain lol, but also he likes his hair a lot, (even if he looks like he doesn’t brush it half the time lol) i think he likes having it played with/brushed/pulled (braided even..? he likes the feeling, finds it relaxing.)

he also likes his hands (he thinks they’re pretty?) i don’t think he knows why, but other people like them. which he doesn’t really understand because they’re always cold and not really soft because of how much he washes them. but he knows people like them, so he likes them.

his fav on you is probs your legs/thighs. he likes having them wrapped around him, and he likes laying on them, he just thinks they’re pretty.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

his own? he thinks it’s messy, gross, doesn’t like when it gets everywhere and probably hates even touching it. doesn’t like feeling sticky or sitting with it, he cleans it up right away. definitely doesn’t like the idea of you swallowing it. (he’d probs still let you if you REALLY wanted to.)

but yours..? ohhh he loves it. (still thinks its kindaaa gross, just cuz it is what it is.) but he’d like having it on him, he’d like watching you cum too, esp. on his hands or thigh.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

LOVEEESSSS HAVING HIS HAIR PULLEDDDD. idk why i just feel this in my gut. not too rough though.. he’s sensitive :( but just a little bit. like while he’s going down on you or even just making out. doesn’t matter, just pull it. (now if we’re talking about sub!spencer OHHHH he loves it even more, he’ll deadass start crying, lol fucking loser.)

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s not reeaallllyyy experienced, but he fucks from time to time, he knows what he’s doing. he’s smart, he’s read up on this shit.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

the basics, and anything where he can see your face. i think he likes being underneath you. even if he’s acting more dominant, i think he still likes being in a more submissive position.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s somewhere in between, but probs more serious. i think he gets in his own head and wants to make sure he’s doing everything right

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

verrrryyyyy well trimmed, he hates germs and feeling gross. i think he’d actually take a lot of time trimming it and making it feel and look clean, mostly for his own peace of mind.

also, i’d love to be like “he’s grown!!! he doesn’t care if his partner has hair!!!” but ngl that's just not possible because he actually thinks it's gross. just shave and he’ll be fine.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

ohh this mf is sappy as FUCK. he’s such a romantic at heart, he’d take his time & go slow and it’d just be constant ‘i love you’s and praise.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i think in the early seasons, he doesn’t do it a lot. when he does he just feels kinda bad about it. he knows it's not wrong, it just makes him feel weird. maybe as time goes on he does it more, i don’t really know tbh.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

honestly i don’t think he’s really kinky. i think a lot of stuff would be hard for him to get into because he sees so much insane shit at work all the time (again, he’s sensitive) but like i said i think he lovvveeeess when you pull his stupid perfect hair.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

at home. his or yours, doesn’t matter. he wouldn’t do anything in public, i think he’s waaayyy too anxious for that. he’d be CONVINCED that someone would see you, and he’d be too nervous to even do a good job lol. i don't think he’d really care where at home, but he’d mostly like the bed or the couch, just somewhere where he can take his sweet time. i think he’d appreciate the shower from time to time though.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally anything you do. you. you. you!!! he just loves you!!!! he lovesss hearing your voice, especially when you’re talking about something you learned. i think spencer finds your intelligence so attractive because he was embarrassed about his own for a long time. (idk if that makes sense ??? but whatever)

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i think the list of shit he’s not into is a lottttttt longer than the list of shit he likes lol. idk he’s just not really kinky, but he definitely wouldn’t be into feet, piss/scat, anal, anything age related, the list goes on.. i think he’s just very normal and he’s okay with that.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

not to be too controversial.. cause i do think he loves giving, but i think he LOVVVEEESS receiving. he’s a man after all, he would love some good head. he’ll always return the favor though.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he’s too not rough and he never would be, he wouldn’t want to hurt you. i think his general pace is somewhere in between, not too slow, not too fast, but he’ll go faster if you ask him to.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn’t like them. again, he likes to take his sweet time!!!

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

like i said, i don’t think he’s really kinky but i do think he’d be down to try some stuff. he just wouldn’t bring anything up, he’d wait for you to suggest whatever.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i deadass think he passes out after once round. i mean come on, he doesn’t work out, he’s a fucking pipe cleaner (with eyes.) he’s just not going for more than maybe 2 rounds max. i think he can maybe last a while during one round, but he gets sleepy fast. (aww :3)

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i don’t think he cares for them. would probably be open though?

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

spencer doesn’t ever like to see you in and kind of discomfort, but he does like to tease quite a bit, and he knows you like it too. it never lasts too long though. (mostly because you beg and ask him so nicely, but also because it makes him feel kinda mean.)

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

oh he’s LOUDDD. especially sub!spencer. that mf whimpers and whines like there's no tomorrow. i think softdom!spencer is loud too, but he tries to be quieter cause he wants to hear you.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

would let you peg him. wouldn’t ask though. (i will not be writing this, don’t ask lol)

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

LONG AND SKINNY!!!! just like the rest of his body.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

it’s not too high, but it’s definitely not low. just thinking about you makes him dizzy, but he has pretty good self control.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

INSTANTLY. he’s a sleepy guy!!!!! spencer obviously doesn’t have a lot of physical energy to begin with so i think it’s quite exhausting for him. (but he loves it)

thank you so much for reading!!! i had so much fun writing this!!!! :)

sorry i haven't been super active, i've been quite busy these last few weeks, but i'll be back with some new stuff soon i promise!! hope this can feed you guys until then.. lol :)))

#˚୨୧₊ ken's writing #˚୨୧₊ ken's reid #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine

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juniperskye · 1 month

Text

Why are you in my head? Pt. 3

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Angst - Part 1 Part 2 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 2583

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, mentions of drugs/sale of drugs/drug use, arguing, mentions of Eddie’s drug addict parents, mention of post-partum depression, mention of child endangerment, mention of child death, mention of murder, mention of suicide, mention of foster care, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story

I miss you so fucking much. How could you think so little of me. I’m sorry. You just don’t understand what it’s like. You don’t even know me. We’re soulmates, of course I know you. Our thoughts weren’t shared until we were both teenagers, you know nothing about how I was brought up. Can I see you? Please.

Thoughts between soulmates were shared more frequently when experiencing high levels of stress, primarily during long periods of separation after meeting, or fighting.

“Hey bug, Eddie’s on the phone for you.” Your dad knocked lightly on your door.

“Tell him I don’t want to talk to him!” You hollered up to your dad.

Since your fight with Eddie, one week ago, your parents had noticed your very apparent, sour mood. You really had no choice but to tell them that you had in fact met your soulmate and had been hanging out with him non-stop. Your mom had been thrilled for you; she had wanted to know everything about Eddie. Your dad on the other hand, he was furious. He clocked the tear tracks that ran down your cheeks the second you walked in the door, and he wanted Eddie’s address so he could kick his ass. You had assured him that it wouldn’t be necessary, that no matter how upset you were in the moment, in your heart you knew the two of you would be able to work things out.

“Sweetie, maybe you should take his call.” Your mom suggested.

“Maybe you should butt out!” You shouted back.

You were immediately filled with regret. Quickly making your way up the stairs you threw open your door to come face to face with your parents.

“Mom, I am so sorry.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her hand gently brushing at the hair on the back of your head. She always did this when you hugged, and it always brought a warm comfort throughout your body.

“It’s okay. I know that you are upset. Maybe you should try talking to him sweetie, it might make you feel better.” She suggested once more.

“Okay, I guess you’re probably right.” You nodded.

“Well, that’s good because he is on his way right now.” Your dad informed you.

“What? Dad! A little warning would be nice! He doesn’t live that far, and I have to get ready!” You started scrambling down the stairs into your room to get ready.

Your parents chuckled, remembering what it was like to be that young and new in love.

A knock at the door had you sprinting up the stairs and practically shoving your dad out of the way so you could get there first. You weren’t quite ready to have Eddie meet your parents, especially since you aren’t currently on the best of terms.

You opened the door with just enough room to slide out of the house. You took note of Eddie’s disheveled appearance, he had bags under his eyes, his hair looked especially frizzy, and his skin didn’t have its usual glow.

“Hey.” He said sheepishly.

“Hi.” You replied.

“Did you uh, did you want to go sit in the van and talk?” Eddie said gesturing to where it was parked at the end of your driveway.

You nodded and the two of you made your way to the vehicle. He wanted so badly to pull you into his arms and kiss all this pain away, but he knew that it wouldn’t be that simple, he had made some snap judgements and said some hurtful things to you. He knew he needed to apologize and that the two of you still had a lot to learn about one another.

“Baby, I am so sorry. I said some awful shit to you, and I shouldn’t have. I just, I am so used to having people judge me. For how I look, for where I live, who I live with, the people I hang out with, the music I listen to, the field of work I’m in. And I know that you weren’t judging me, that you were just looking out for me because you care, but baby I couldn’t help but let those past feelings eat me alive when you were talking to me.” Eddie explained.

“Eddie, I appreciate you apologizing. I’ve had time to think about things too and I can understand how my reaction could have come across as judgmental. Eddie, my dad is a cop, I have heard what happens to people when they’re caught with a little bit of weed in their possession, but if you were caught selling it, or something worse. Eddie I can’t lose you. Not when I have only just found you.” Tears were running down your face at this point.

Eddie scooted closer to you on the bench of the van, he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, gently brushing away your tears with his thumb. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. When you two broke apart, he leaned his forehead against your own, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I am so sorry baby. Please forgive me?”

“Eddie, before I can forgive you, I need to know that you don’t really think of me like that. I may come from a well-off family now, but there is a lot you don’t know about me and I just – I need to know that you don’t see me as some privileged brat.” You begged.

“Sweetheart, no! I don’t think of you that way. I am so sorry! I don’t even know why I said that. It’s like a defense mechanism. I know that there’s so much I don’t know about you, and I hope that you will trust me enough to tell me everything there is to know about you.” He rushed.

You were both startled by a knock on the window. Looking over at the passenger window, you were mortified to see your dad standing there, giving you and Eddie a small wave. He then gestured for you to roll the window down. You visibly cringed as you began cranking the window open, mouthing an embarrassed apology to Eddie.

“Dadddd…what do you want?” You whined.

“Your mother sent me out here to let you know that dinner is ready. She also wanted me to ask if your friend here would be joining us.” He explained.

Your eyes darted over to Eddie. You were trying to decipher his expression, was he as horrified as you were? Was he intrigued by the idea of meeting your parents.? Was he ready to flee and never return?

Would you want me to stay?

You couldn’t help but smile. His thought was timed perfectly, this soulmate thing definitely had its perks.

Of course I want you to stay! I just don’t want them to scare you off.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I’d like to stay for dinner.” Eddie looked at your dad, who replied with a curt nod.

“I can’t believe you’re a Metallica fan! I just finished learning Master of Puppets on my guitar!” Eddie gushed.

“That’s a tough song, I bet you had to practice for weeks!” Your dad indulged Eddie.

This is so embarrassing! Your dad is so cool!

Your mom laughed at the exchange between the two men and she and you cleared the table. She gave you a knowing look and nodded towards your room.

“Why don’t you two go watch a movie, your dad and I can clear the rest of this up.” She suggested.

“Only if you’re sure.” You asked, gaze shifting from your mom to your dad.

“Door stays open.” Your dad pointed towards you.

With that you grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him down to your room, being sure to leave your door open, per your dad’s request. As you descended the stairs, Eddie’s jaw made its way to the floor. He was amazed by your room, you had records hung on the walls and ceiling, one of your walls had an incredible photo collage, with photos of you, your friends and family throughout the years, and below that were stacks of books next to a small desk. HeHewHH’d have to ask you about who all these people were. You also had a projector screen that you clearly used for movies.

“This is amazing! You read J.R.R. Tolkien and Stephen King? And these records, this is so cool, I would never want to leave if this was my room!” Eddie exclaimed.

God, like you could get any hotter.

“Yeah, my parents are pretty cool about letting me express my creative freedoms or whatever.” You shrugged.

You couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, Eddie had talked about how you got everything you’d ever wanted, and this made that seem true. If only he knew.

Things had continued on pretty well with you and Eddie over the next few months. You guys had grown closer, trusting one another with the heavier secrets of your lives. Eddie had told more in depth about his parents. His mom had gotten hooked on drugs thanks to his dad, who was quick to put hands on Eddie and his mom when he was under the influence – which seemed to be more often than not.

You had wanted to tell Eddie about your past too, but the timing just didn’t seem right. Every time you went to share, something came up, or you were trying to avoid it coming across as you are one-upping him and his trauma.

Things aren’t always what they seem.

Eddie had dinner at your house once a week, and you’d traded off whose house you’d go to after school each day. Nothing physical had transpired between the two of you other than a few heavy make out sessions. At each other’s houses you had fallen into a routine, at yours you would either watch a movie or read, at his you’d either watch a movie, listen to music, or help him with his campaigns.

Tonight happened to be dinner at your house, your parents had suggested ordering a pizza tonight and playing Monopoly. Eddie had enjoyed nights like this, your parents had been extremely welcoming of him. He had appreciated that they didn’t judge him, not once in all the time he has known them. They had been warm and kind and accepting.

Your dad had bonded with him about his taste in music and had shown an interest in Dungeons and Dragons. Your mom talked to him about his future and his dreams of being in a band, but the reality of him probably becoming a mechanic. Your mom had told him that he should pursue music as long as he had something he could fall back on should it not work out. She told him that he could achieve his dreams as long as he worked hard at it.

These conversations, these dinners, these nights with your family had been amazing, they had also been painful for Eddie. He couldn’t help but feel hurt that he didn’t get to have a childhood like this, that he had to get his ass beat by his dad while his mom was strung out on the couch. He hadn’t been removed from their custody until he was about 10 years old, that’s when child services pulled him from their care and moved him in with Wayne.

Wayne had grown fond of you immediately; he had seen how Eddie had changed immediately after meeting you. He had been happier, which meant the world to Wayne. All Wayne had ever wanted was for Eddie to have something good in his life and here you were. You and Wayne were buds and it filled Eddie with a sense of pride that his uncle approved of you.

Now if only things could stay simple like that forever.

Eddie and you had finished dinner and a game of Monopoly at your house. You were planning to go to Eddie’s after to watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. After pulling up in front of the trailer, Eddie made his way to your side of the van and pulled you out of the car. You giggled as he kissed you and the two of you stumbled into the living room.

He made his way to the kitchen to grab drinks for you both and he began popping some popcorn.

“Sorry about my parents tonight. I know they can be super lame.” You huffed out a laugh.

“What do you mean? Your parents are great!” Eddie said.

“No, I know, but they act so goofy. It’s embarrassing.” You shook your head.

At least you have parents.

“Jesus Eddie.”

“What? I didn’t…oh shit. Babe I’m sorry. It’s just, you should be thankful that you have parents who care about you. Not all of us are that lucky.”

“I’m not that lucky Eddie! Fuck! How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t know me! You don’t know anything about me!” You sighed.

“Then tell me! Please, enlighten me as to how your two wonderful parents can be so bad!” Eddie egged you on.

“THEY'RE NOT MY PARENTS!” You shouted at him, then took a deep breath. “Eddie, they’re not my real parents.”

Eddie sat a looked at you, mouth agape, speechless. You could tell that he was waiting for you to continue, but you needed a moment to collect your thoughts. You had to explain everything, this conversation could change everything.

“My parents, Eddie, they did some horrible shit. Neither of them had any other family, my mom she uh, she had post-partum depression, she wasn’t doing well, for a long time after my little sister was born. I guess that had caused my dad to seek comfort elsewhere, I was only six when all this happened. But uh, my mom she uh she left my sister in the bath alone, my sister slid down into the water and drowned, she was only 8 weeks old. When my dad came home and found her, he was furious. Eddie he killed my mom, and then he killed himself. I ended up in foster care and bounced from home to home until I was twelve, until they took me in.”

“Sweetheart. I, I am so sorry. I don’t, I’m not sure what to say.” Eddie whispered. “But uh, you said. You had mentioned that your mom told you bedtime stories about how her and your dad met.”

“My mom now, she would tell me how her and my dad met, every night until I finally started sleeping.” You explained.

The nightmares made it impossible. I couldn’t stop seeing the blood.

Eddie crossed the room and pulled you into his arms. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid this whole time. You had been silently telling him that your life wasn’t all that perfect, that though now, it seemed good, it hadn’t always been. He needed you to know that he was here for you, no matter what.

I’ve got you. I will always have you baby.

A sob escaped your throat, ripping through the silence. Eddie held you; he laid you with him in his bed, his hand brushing through your hair gently, whispering sweet nothings to you.

I haven’t told anyone that story. Nobody, ever. Not even my parents. Your secret is safe with me. You are safe with me. I love you sweetheart. I love you Eds.

Tag List: @sashaphantomhive

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h0ck3yl0v3r · 5 months

Text

sparks fly

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

lh43 x childhood!bestfriend

warnings: none?!?!

she missed him, and he missed her. with hockey season starting he was a mess. they had gotten paired together for a project in their english class. it was awkward, none of them knowing what to say.

The way you move is like a full-on rainstorm

And I'm a house of cards

they sat in class trying to figure out the topic they should research about. still no words spoken, luke couldn’t help but admire her as she worked. the way her hair kept falling in front of her face, and how she bit the top of her pen from nerves, and the way her eyes were so beautiful.

And you stood there in front of me

Just close enough to touch

Close enough to hope you couldn't see

What I was thinking of

after an hour right before class ended, the two finally found a topic to research on. they settled on how miscommunication can affect ones life. ironic isnt it he thought.

“hey y/n” luke said trying to catch up the girl in a hurry to get back to her dorm.

“what do you want luke.” she said turning to look at the youngest hughes.

“i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna meet after my game, you don’t have to go to it but i figured itd be best if we talk and clear the air since we got paired together.” he said in one breath looking down at her looking for a response.

“okay.” thats all she said. “okay, ill text you after the game, bye y/n.” he said softly, “bye luke” she whispered softly watching him leave.

Drop everything now

Meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain

tonight was a big game, the game against msu. yost was packed, luke was in the locker rooms trying to prepare himself for the game but all he could think about was the one girl who truly made him happy that he hurt. as for her, she was finding her way through yost being dragged out of her dorm by her roommate who was dating one of the players.

as the team skated out for warm ups all the girl could think about was when she’d always attend lukes games, how cute he was in his element, how passionate and focused he is once he hits the ice. she couldnt help but notice how the lighting brought out his green eyes, and how his small smile still has a hold on her.

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down

Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

the game ended well, umich winning and luke scoring a hat trick, during his third goal in the third period he finally saw you, pointing at you during his celly. your heart melted at that, almost forgetting entirely about why you were mad at him.

My mind forgets to remind me

You're a bad idea

luke quickly finished changing back into his normal attire as you waited for him outside the locker rooms.

once he came out he gave you a small smile which you did the same back.

“care to go for a little walk m’lady?” he said and you couldn’t help but laugh and nod.

you guys walked in a comfortable silence before taking a break on a bench near his dorm.

“congrats by the way, you did amazing tonight.” you said looking up at him a d he smiled whispering a soft thank you.

“i know i said i wanted to talk to clear the air because of the project but it’s more than that.” he said and you nodded for him to continue “im sorry for everything, truly. i miss you so much it physically hurts and i know its not fair the way i treated you, i don’t expect you to forgive me but i just want you to hear my side of the story. i pushed you away because i thought you deserved someone better, someone who could be there all the time, and to have someone you wont have to worry about having to leave one day and do long distance. but in reality i did it to protect myself, because im in love with you, and i didnt want to have to face losing my best friend, or the heartbreak of when i have to leave for the pro’s but i realize now all i want is you, my whole life, its been you.” his voice cracking and leg bouncing from anxiety. you placed your hand on his knee softly rubbing it to comfort him. “lu, i thought you didn’t like me because you became so distant and went after so many other girls, so i never said anything to protect myself, i was so in love with you, the night i left i had cried to quinny, i thought i never had a chance so i pushed myself away too. but im still so in love with you, no matter how much i try to push it away” you said softly as he cupped your face caressing it softly, “i thought you knew, i gave so many hints” and you looked at him confused, “remember all times in high school when guys tried to hit on you and i immediately scared him away, or whenever id call you after a bad game, or when all i ever wanted was to be with you so i came over for like three days, holding your hand or cuddling watching movies that it came to a point my mom had to drag me back home. i thought you knew.” he said tears now falling softly down both of your faces. “im so sorry lu, i never picked up on any of that, i thought it was just because we were best friends.” he wiped your tears away “we were always more than best friends, so much for miscommunication huh? we better get an A on that project” he joked and you couldn’t help but crack a smile and laugh. and as the clouds began crying too, for the first time luke hughes kissed you. the most soft passionate kiss ever. “i love you.” he said pulling away resting his forehead on yours “i love you luke hughes.”

And the sparks fly

taglist: @drysdalesv @shy4turcs @ghostfacd @jackquinnswife

#luke hughes #umich blurbs #umich hockey #luke hughes x reader #nj devils #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes blurb

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radioisntdead · 2 months

Note

Ok. So…you can’t just put potential Rosie HeadCanons in my face like that and NOT expect me to start gushing girl.

Rosie with a reader who has a powerful instant regeneration ability. Just imaging they chop off a limb or some fingers and offer them up to Rosie like - “Flame grilled or Sushi?”

Being cute while she’s devouring their pinkie finger while having tea, and reader is SO nonchalant about it.

Good evening my dear! Rosie is just munchin' on the reader like a snack.

Warnings!!

Cannibalism [Fun fact, this is one of the main warnings in the fics I write, out of context this is concerning, EVEN WITH CONTEXT ITS KINDA CONCERNING??] mild gore for obvious reasons, temporary self mutilation??? The seasoning of limbs I don't know but this gets weird, as per usual this more then likely isn't proofread, I wrote headcanons and a drabble but this is somewhat short my apologies!

You and Rosie's relationship is odd to say the least, I mean y'all are in hell but still, but it's healthier then the majority of relationships down there,

I imagine you just carry around like a butcher knife so whenever Rosie is hungry you just go CHOP and hand her your hand or something,

Also if you carry around a bag I imagine you put some seasonings and sauces in for her to choose as well, because unseasoned meat is gross.

Rosie seems like the type to season her food.

The first time you popped off a limb you did with without warning and almost scared Rosie half to double death!

Give the gal a warning and tell her that you can regenerate limbs! She did enjoy munching on it afterwards though!

If you're an overlord you supply her with snacks at meetings,

She just whispers to you that she's hungry and that after the meeting you should get a meal,

And then you with zero discretion chop off a finger and offer it to her,

Carmilla Carmine wasn't pleased, neither were the other overlords [excluding Alastor, he finds it entertaining] and that's saying something since they've more then likely done horrendous things to get to their overlord status.

Rosie however is pleased with the snack, she would prefer if you didn't get blood on the table though,

Maybe in advance you go chop chop and put fingers in a Ziploc bag and hand it to her like it's baby carrots.

Less mess that way,

During tea time I imagine you do prep work in advance so you have an assortment of your fingers in different flavors, so your hand is mess free to be able to hold Rosie's hand while sipping tea,

Or maybe having a picnic, you just pop off an arm and thinly slice it and put it in a little sandwich, maybe some type of dessert? I don't know

Similar to the Alastor biting headcanons I did, Rosie bites you,

But unlike Alastor she doesn't just break skin, she takes CHUNKS OUT, I image you either have a really REALLY REALLY high pain tolerance or you can't feel pain because this has to be painful.

Also you probably need to have towels nearby because this gets messy, like it looks like a murder scene, but without the murder.

You are a snack, literally, a walking talking snack that Rosie adores with all her cannibalistic heart.

....................

You hummed as Rosie sat nearby sipping tea, it was a decent day in hell, the sky was red, sinners were screaming in the distance, and you were pulling back a meat cleaver to provide more fingers,

"Rosie darling, Should I take out the bone or leave it in this time?"

"Leave it in, it gives the fingers a nice crunch!"

Rosie said looking at you, grinning her sharp teeth shining like a razer sharp knife, eyes like a endless void of pitch black that one could get lost in, you could wander in and never escape.

You were completely and utterly in love with her,

Giving a lovely smile back you nodded before ramming down the cleaver, spattering blood across the counter, you pulled your now fingerless hand back, giving it a slight shake before a swirl of black smoke covered it and within seconds you had fingers again, you pull back the cleaver to repeat the process, after all your beloved Rosie was hungry and five fingers wasn't much!

Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in!

I never thought I would be writing cannibal x readers but here we are, anyways I'm still working through requests! I got a Found family Rosie, an parental Alastor, an angsty Velvette and another one that I can't remember but It's in the drafts! Also Alrighty tune in time!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin rosie #hazbin rosie x reader #hazbin hotel rosie x reader #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie x reader #rosie x you

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breadbrioche · 10 months

Text

apologies

so mun x reader

➳ summary: after telling mun to take better care of himself, he ends up taking care of you instead

➳ warnings: description of treating wounds, mention of guns/gunshot wounds, self deprecating thoughts, season 2 episode 3-4 spoilers

➳ word count: 1.5k

➳a/n: my offering to the tuc tumblr fandom haha fyi the reader is also a counter but was not with mun during the scenes mentioned

As you hunch over your desk, trying to get as close as you can to your mirror, you become aware of how pathetic your situation is. Blood soaked cotton balls litter the surface of your desk from your attempt to clean the injuries inflicted on you just hours ago, though you’re doing a pretty horrid job at it because every time an alcohol swab just even brushes against the open wound, you flinch away from your own hand and hiss at the pain.

You sigh regretfully, thinking about how you could’ve avoided all this, been fully healed and pain free hours ago, if you just didn’t cause such a scene earlier.

You bursted into the base, shoes slapping against the floor loudly as you made a beeline towards the table where all the counters were waiting to be healed by Ms Chu. Stopping right in front of Mun, who was looking worried at your apparent injuries, your scowl deepened as your gaze landed on his shoulder and the perfectly circular openings in it.

Frustrated and thinking of no other way to express this, you slapped your palm against the offending shoulder. Mun jerked back with a yelp and looked at you in disbelief.

“You’re an idiot, did you know that?” You began, not beating around the bush.

“Let me expla-“

“Explain what? That you let yourself get shot?” You cut him off quickly. “Us counters may be stronger than average humans but at the end of the day we’re still humans! And humans aren’t bulletproof like how you apparently like to think!”

Words were spilling out of your mouth without a second thought, your voice getting louder with every angry confession.

“Do you think of yourself as someone who can just die whenever they want? Evil spirits aside, did you even think about how your death would impact everyone!”

At this point, you couldn’t remember how the rest of the confrontation went down apart from that when you finally finished your rant he looked at you with an expression incomprehensible to you at the time - maybe he was shocked or mad or sad, either way you didn’t stick around long enough to find out as you finally gained back your sanity and dashed to hide in your room.

Maybe you’re the idiot, and not Mun.

He didn’t get shot for no good reason; he saved the chairman’s life! And you had a go at him for doing what was right. So on top of being a pathetic coward, you were also an idiot who blamed innocent people. What an amazing turn of events.

Before you could wallow in your pity for any longer, knocks on your door pull you out of your thoughts and make you turn towards it. You come eye to eye with So Mun, who’d left himself inside your room before you could even get up to open the door.

“Hey.” He begins awkwardly, probably trying to gauge your reactions to see if you were still angry at him. “You missed dinner.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realise” you say dumbly.

“I just wanted to let you know that I saved some food for you, its in the kitchen if you ever feel hungry”

You smile slightly; grateful for Mun’s thoughtfulness, even if after your tirade on him earlier.

“Thanks, Mun-ah. I’ll go eat in a sec once I’m done with all of-“ you gesture to the mess of medical supplies on your table “-this.”

Taking note of it, Mun frowns before approaching you and leaning down to assess your injuries. He immediately picks up an alcohol swab and gently cleans the cuts on your face. Instinctively, you jerk away from the sting but Mun keeps you still with a hand on your cheek.

“You know that Ms Chu can heal these for you.” He says gently, though the close proximity of your faces makes you hear it loud and clear.

“They’re not big… I don’t wanna be a bother for a few cuts here and there” you murmur in defense.

Mun’s hands pull away from your face for a moment to reach for a band-aid on your desk but you grab his wrist to stop him.

“I can treat myself, you don’t have to do it”

He huffs shortly before pulling out of your grasp and shaking his head stubbornly.

“I want to. Please?” He asks with a classic So Mun smile that makes it hard to remember why you were ever mad at him. You reluctantly nod, allowing Mun to put the bandage on your face.

It’s quiet as he repeats the process of cleaning and wrapping the rest of your wounds.

“Uh-“ You speak up suddenly, unable to handle the suffocating silence. He perks up and faces you fully, attentive.

“Sorry about what I said to you earlier…you did what you had to save the chairman and I blew up at you for no real reason but when I heard that you’d gotten shot, I guess I started spiralling and assumed the worse so…” you trail off and lower your head in shame, eyes focused on the scrapes on your knuckles that Mun is currently working on.

His hands clasp yours and intertwines your fingers together with his, then pulls you up to your feet which forces you to maintain eye contact with him. He’s smiling at you calmly, eyes creasing ever so slightly.

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly it’s okay.” he says in a reassuring voice. “I’m sure I worried all of you so I would’ve gotten an earful from someone eventually.”

You laugh slightly at his comment lightening your mood. Being around Mun is addictive - his warm presence pulls you in and his positivity infects you, putting a small smile on your face too.

Though, part of you couldn’t let go of your guilty thoughts and you still feel apprehensive. Mun must have sensed it because he squeezes your interlaced hands tight, stroking your hand with his thumb.

“You had every right to be mad at me. I don’t regret what I did but you're right about the fact that I didn’t think about how my actions would affect everyone else. So I guess that was pretty selfish of me.”

Mun rests his head down on your shoulder, face nuzzling into your neck slightly. His breath tickles your skin as he exhales which makes you squirm slightly.

“Could you forgive me?” He whispers into your ear.

Since he entered your room, all of his sweet actions were slowly piling up, making you feel flustered and heartbeat speed up, but this was the tipping point. You try to push away from Mun, feeling far too overwhelmed, but he effortlessly pulls you back in, his eyes twinkling.

“So~?” He insists you answer, dragging out the last syllable. You roll your eyes, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“Fine. I guess I could forgive you” you huff out. “But only because you’re annoying and you won’t stop until I do.”

Mun chuckles and brushes away hair hanging over your face to get a clear view of your reactions.

“You’re so cute.” he points out teasingly. He watches your nose shrivel when you scowl at him.

“And you are a little shit.”

“Hey! Is that any way to speak to your cool and amazing boyfriend who patched you up?” Mun grabs your bandaged hand and shakes it in front of your face to emphasize his point.

“I told you that you didn’t have to do it”

“And I told you that you should’ve seen Ms Chu!”

“It’s too late for that now anyways, she’s probably sleeping. I can just have it done tomorrow” you defend yourself.

“But knowing you, you’ll definitely forget!”

God, Mun could be so stubborn sometimes. You sigh before flopping onto your bed, bouncing slightly as the springs in the mattress resist against you.

“If you’re so bothered, maybe you should just sleep with me tonight so you can remind me in the morning.”

Mun gasps dramatically as if your suggestion was something obscene. You roll your eyes at his act, your point from earlier being proven - he is a little shit.

“You’re welcome to go back to your room then” you point out, gesturing to your door. Mun shoots you an offended look before pulling your blankets open to climb onto your bed quickly.

“I never said no!” He complains as he worms his way to get closer to you.

You shuffle about for a second before getting into a comfortable position, with your face pressed against Mun’s chest, head laying on one of his arms. A silence envelops the two of you again but it’s not the awkward tension from before.

This silence was cozy. Relaxing.

“Thank you, Mun-ah” you whispered, cuddling against him more. He pressed a kiss on the top of your head, silently answering you. Gently he stroked your hair, lulling you to sleep.

#the uncanny counter #the uncanny counter fic #so mun #uncanny counter #so mun x reader #the uncanny counter x reader #kdrama #kdrama fic #kdrama x reader #own works

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jupitermoontarot24 · 1 month

Text

👑How Should You Customize Your Avatar Next?👑💅

Welcome back guys! Got this idea from a couple readers on here so thanks to them!

Personal readings are in my shop if interested!

ENJOY as always 💋

Pile 1

welcome.

pile one I feel like you should start wearing stuff that shows off your torso more. you should get low rise jeans and pants also clothes that are flowy. you should get a tan or at least a bronze. some type of glow to your skin. you should start wearing hoop earrings big hoops small hoops, bracelets stack them also wear accessories and jewelry in your hair. Emphasis on the waist because the song playing in the background is wasted love lol. I think you should also show off your chest area more. More like your collarbone not cleavage but your actual chest area. I feel like you should grow your hair out if you're wearing it short. if you been think about cutting your hair don't lol you should embrace long hair at least for this pile. You should start working on your summer body. You don't want to be at the beach feeling like a whale because you were in Fairy Tail land. if you want something to change you should work on it so if you want to be summer ready you should work on being ready. I also feel like if your hair is a certain color right now you should probably change it. if you colored your hair during a specific season and it's a different season now you need to change it to match the present. If you do want to color your hair a different color you should go blonde maybe or brown or red for some people or pink. I feel like you should start incorporating dresses more into your wardrobe. You should start wearing dresses a lot more or a skirts. I would also invest into some good pajamas that are cute and nice pajama sets. Also hair accessories like I said headbands scrunchies stuff like that. You should also get some different frames of glasses if you've been thinking about that. Get into reading more it'll bring alot more enjoyment and it'll increase your intelligence and vocabulary so if you think about reading some books I would do that as well. There's something about having blonde hair that will help you attract more people. You might get a lot more attention being a blonde and for some people you might meet your future spouse while you're blonde. You have beautiful boobs pile one. I'm not sure if you've been thinking about changing that but there's nothing wrong with your chest area and spirit wants you to know that. I would also get a new wardrobe. There's something about getting rid of shirts and tops and wearing more dresses, sets and skirts maybe even jumpsuits but I don't see you wearing jeans that much mostly bell bottoms or flowy pants. If you been thinking about getting ombre hair or decorating your apartment to match your aesthetic you should. Script what you want your physical appearance to look like! You have that power

Pile 2

Welcome

Off the bat pile 2 you should start taking more pictures. You should start having whole photoshoots especially when you're dressed up. have a face of makeup and your hair is done. You need to take photos because you are not capturing any moments and if someone were to ask to see you or something happened to you they wouldn't have any photos to show. if your bestfriends were yo meet your favorite celebrity, would they have any cute photos of you to show? That's not what you want! You want to have a “ that's them” photo. You should update your profile picture and you should upload more on your social media. You should try out some new makeup look, more bold looks. Eyeshadows and lipsticks. if you were thinking about coloring your natural hair you should but still keep it natural. I see like a Balayage, ombre, highlights or going one shade lighter. I would also start wearing necklaces more or wear necklace that you can wear every single day. You need to start acting like you are somebody. Its like all your beauty goes to waste because you don't take pictures and you don't experiment too much with your looks as much as you can.. If you were trying to work on your body and lose weight you should start dancing! Zumba or even just dancing in your room with earphones to burn calories as well. You should also get a tattoo or another. Put some art on your body. It seems like you have long hair and I think it's fitting for you but I do think some type of color could be nice as well. I'll also start incorporating solids in your wardrobe. if you don't have any Basic Black white or gray tops you should get some. You don't want every shirt you have to have a Graphic or a print on it just in case you have to dress more upscale or something. Especially if you wear younger hairstyles like buns or pigtails ponytail stuff like that you want to balance that off by wearing a more mature outfit that day. You don't like a teenager if you're not lol. I would start trying to mature my wardrobe if I were you. Start cleaning out your old wardrobe for stuff that you don't want anymore. Also clip off your dead ends of your hair it'll make your hair grow faster. I would also invest in your skincare not just your face but your whole body. I would also invest in nice pajamas if I were you. Stuff thats comfortable but also cute or sexy. You could be drawn pile one.

Enchanting & Gucci Mane - Issa Photoshoot [Official Music Video]

Pile 3

Welcome

If you have you been thinking about upgrading your phone you should(new phone or update software). I would invest in good lip products, more lip glosses, balms and stuff like. I would also cut some of the ends off of your hair, clip your dead ends. You should get your nails done pile three, get your nails professionally done you deserve it! and get them long if you like that. It’ll make your hands look better and it'll make your presence more put together. You could be drawn pile two. You could be drawn to all of the piles. I would say also get another tattoo or one in general. if you've been thinking about a certain ideas you want get them. I think if you have tattoos now they're really nicely placed and they look good so as you continue to build them they will look really good together. I think you have that down pack. I would invest in more hats and scarves (spring scarves, summer scarves, bucket hats). I think you should start dressing out the box .Let your inner child pick the outfits out some days and wear stuff that maybe shouldn't go together but it does. Like how bratz used to wear skirts over leggings or stuff like that. The belt over the dress lol. also don't put yourself in a box when it comes to your wardrobe because I see you dressing differently every single day because your style changes on the day. I would also say let people pick out your outfit sometimes or certain pieces for you. if you go shopping with one of your friends or your partner and they say” do you like this? you think it's cute? or I think this will look good with you!” Take their advice because I think you might end up looking really good. If you've been thinking about getting your nipples pierced you should. if you've been thinking about getting into voice lessons or singing or voice acting you should. I think this is something you really dream of doing and it's a dream for a reason you should act on it. People might pay more attention to you than you think they do in this pile. You look cute though overall.

Pile 4

Welcome

Pile four if you have been thinking about getting a tattoo you should definitely get it. I think tha'ts come out in every pile lol. You could be drawn to more than one. if you've been thinking about getting something tatted down your spine or any placement on your back or stomach you should go ahead and do it. if you are looking for ideas for a tattoo you should do something that has a symbolization to yourself. That could be something that represents your name meaning or your culture, ancestry, past life whatever. You should start adding more dark clothing to your wardrobe. Pieces of black clothing, different designs of black clothing. I see you gaining more weight in the right areas to where you can look more full in a feminine way or take it how it resonates. Fat booty? Anime thighs? If you have you been thinking about getting a pet you should get that as well. Your pet could end up being a soul animal or you should get a tattoo of an animal that represents you. I think funky hair colors look really good on you so if you ever colored your hair blue or pops of color you should go back to that. I think Spirit really likes that on you and it fits your personality. Try blue, red or blonde. I think you should also step up your shoe game, get some more sneakers or sandals or whatever to rock with your outfits. If you haven't been going to the gym you should start. I think you should also get into yoga or something that will help in easing the mind and body. You should wear crystals, get crystal necklaces or bracelets or something or hold them in your pocket. If you're trying to lose weight you should drink green tea or some type of tea. If you're trying to gain weight you should take protein before you work out. You should definitely get your hair a crazy color again, don't go back to black or brown. You should also decorate your room to make it more spring and lighter. I would also experiment with hair extensions as well as add-ons to braids making your braids super long or clip-ins.

CHECK OUT MY PAST READINGS

UNTILL NEXT TIME

XOXOXOXOXO

#daily tarot #love #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #soulmates #tarot #tarot reading #twin flame #18+

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 months

Text

Billy asks you out but you have no idea its because Jason paid him to and it's for revenge against Hellfire.

Eddie, is pissed about your date but his protective side comes out when he finds out what happened.

Reader is Hoppers niece in this story. She can be adopted or through family, it's up to you. 💕

Jealousy, protective Eddie, fluff. Minors dni, 18+ don't copy, translate or repost my work.

Season four Au, Billy is alive.

❤️

Tonight should have been a good night. It was your first date in a while and you were hoping it went well. You should have realised it was doomed from the start, especially as it had caused you and Eddie to have a really bad fight.

He wasn't happy about your date with Billy and an argument between the two of you erupted during lunch two days ago, you hadn't spoke to each other since then.

It made sitting at the Hellfire table very awkward and poor Dustin had given up trying to get the two of you to talk to each other.

According to Eddie there was no way that Billy had changed, he'd only hurt you, etc. You were a believer in second chances, though maybe you should have been more wary just like Eddie said.

Billy had taken you to see some new horror movie and invited you to hang out with a friend of his after.

The minute that Jason showed up at the end of your date alarm bells rang in your head. He walked right up to Billy and handed him a hundred bucks, sneering at you and then turning back to Billy.

"Wow. Well done dude, this went better than I thought" Jason laughed and Billy had this stupid smirk on his face.

It was a bet Billy explained. A hundred bucks to date you, cause some friction with Eddie and then let you find out, humiliating you. It was Jason's idea for revenge on Hellfire, it left you feeling sick to your stomach and Jason's laughter followed you along the way, as you raced out of the movie theatre.

Now you were back at home. Tears running down your cheeks and your heart aching, you can't believe you were so stupid to give Billy a chance. Not only were you humiliated but Eddie wasn't speaking to you either.

The thought of facing Jason tomorrow at school made you toss and turn all night, however you were determined to get back at the asshole one way or another.

...

Jason's smug smirk at seeing you first thing soon disappeared when in art class your paint supplies accidentally went over his lucky letterman jacket.

You adopted your most innocent expression when the teacher asked you if it was an accident, acted flustered and said you were sorry to Jason.

When the teachers back was turned the apologetic expression vanished from your face and you smirked at an enraged Jason.

"Paybacks a bitch huh?"

That felt really good. However your good mood vanished as soon as it was lunchtime. Eddie was still grumpy and the tension between the two of you was awful.

Between this and the disappointment that your first date in ages was just a stupid bet, you were feeling close to tears. All it took was Gareth turning to you, giving a nervous glance to Eddie then asking how the date went for you to almost crumble.

"I don't want to talk about it" you mumble and Eddie looks at you for the first time in days, folds his arms across his chest and huffs annoyed.

"Jesus h christ, so you ignore my advice and it turns out exactly how I thought it would?" his tone chips away at your bruised heart and you meet Eddie's gaze.

You try to act nonchalant but the facade quickly fades and your lip wobbles, the ache in your chest hurting again. The anger leaves Eddie's eyes immediately.

"It was a bet okay! So you were right Eddie. Billy is still an asshole and he got paid by Jason to humiliate me" you snap and gather your stuff not wanting to hear Eddie say I told you so.

If you were being honest some part of you deep down only went on this date to see how Eddie would react. For a while you suspected he might have feelings for you.

Obviously you were wrong. He didn't want you that way. Maybe he was wondering why Billy even wanted to date you in the first place.

Whatever. You didn't need this shit from him and promptly walked away from the Hellfire table.

❤️

Eddie couldn't remember the last time he had been this mad. The very feeling coursing through his veins, had propelled him to seek out Jason and he found the asshole laughing with one of his douchebag friends.

"Hey Munson, you ask your friend how her date went last night? Jason throws the jibe at him, smirks and fist bumps his friend.

His amusement only lasts for a few seconds because he soon sees the look in Eddie's eyes, the one that sends him scampering back and turning paler by the minute.

"You stay away from me freak. I mean it" Eddie ignores him, moves closer to Jason and glares at him.

"Let's get one thing straight Carver. You wanna mess with me then fine, you don't use my friends to do it. Especially not her, understand?" Carver isn't so cocky now, merely nods as his friend hightails it in the other direction.

"Why do you think I went after her freak. She's like your weakness or something" Eddie stills as Jason's words hit him. The thing is the douchebag wasn't wrong.

"I mean it man. You hurt even the tiniest hair on her head I swear you'll regret it" he pushes him away and then stalks off making plans to deal with Billy next.

❤️

The opportunity presents itself the next day when Billy as per usual came to the trailer for his weeks supply of weed, "a little something to deal with living in this shithole town" Billy would say and in all honesty Eddie agreed with him.

Well until he decided to fuck with you. Now as far as Eddie was concerned, Billy Hargrove could go and fuck himself.

Just the sight of him coming into the trailer with his signature smirk and an expectant look, set Eddie's teeth on edge and then Billy makes it worse, subtly rubs in what he's done.

"Got a windfall this week Munson so hit me with the good stuff" Eddie has to dig his nails into his hands to stop himself from doing something stupid, like lunging at this smug asshole. He can't believe Billy would have the fucking audacity to be so boastful about what he done.

Not that he expected that Billy would give a fuck about hurting you but he figured there might be guilt or some shit. His jaw tightens and he shoots Billy a dark look.

"Yeah there's nothing here for you dude, you're cut off" he stares coldly at Billy, who looks offended that Eddie is refusing to give him anything.

"You can't do that Munson, I'm a paying customer so give me my fucking weed" the harshness in Billy's tone barely effects Eddie, he's too pissed at what Billy has done to give a fuck about how angry this douchebag is.

"I don't want it man. You think you can hurt my girl and I'd still sell you shit? You're lucky I don't beat your ass, might land me a broken arm or some shit but it would be worth it"

Billy snorts "All of this for her" he points to you and Eddie swears, he didn't realise you had arrived and had heard everything, standing at the trailer door looking stunned.

"All of it. Now fuck off dude" he gestures to the door and Billy scoffs and marches up to him.

"You know I could tell the chief all about your dealing and shit. He'd fast track you to jail and you'd be exactly like daddy" Eddie's fist tightens at Billy's threat but he ignores it, the asshole is talking shit.

"Go ahead. Sure Hop would love to know that you messed with his niece and humiliated her. Bet you'll be right at the top of his Christmas card list dude" Billy's eyes widen, then he swears and storms out of the trailer.

Heat gathers in Eddie's cheeks as you walk over to him. The look on your face has him feeling out of sorts, with a desperate need to take you in his arms and kiss you senseless.

But you only saw him as a friend didn't you? That's why he was such a douchebag this week, yeah because of Billy's reputation and he was scared you'd get hurt but also because he was so fucking jealous.

Not that he'd ever tell you how he felt. There was no way he was having that conversation with you. Fuck, now that would be mortifying.

So imagine his shock when you kiss his cheek, so very near his lips that it makes his brain short circuit for a few seconds and he's genuinely stunned.

"Maybe next time we could try a real kiss" you suggest and Eddie comes to with the biggest beaming smile on his face.

"I'd like that princess. That's why I was such a dick this week. I'm sorry, I was jealous that you went a date with Hargrove when I've been wanting to ask you out for months"

He feels like he might explode when you trail your hand up his chest, he's eager to kiss you, touch you and make you his.

"How about you take me on a date right now Eddie? See I figured out that there's no one I'd rather be with than you. Took me some time to realise that but I don't plan on wasting anymore time"

Your words are like music to his ears and the grin doesn't leave his face when you move closer to him and exchange your first kiss.

And just like that you and Eddie were exactly where you were supposed to be.

❤️

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n

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