#and anyone looks like hes up to absolutely no good
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strange perfections
in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!
fluff!
warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz
a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses
The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf.
Stupid scarf, you think.
Stupid door.
Stupid wind.
Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient.
You look at the stack of papers and sigh.
Stupid Lord Byron.
Stupid cafe.
Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly.
One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable.
Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust.
Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance.
Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once.
Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café.
As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk.
It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor.
Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here.
“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up.
“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”
The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you.
“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”
You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that.
Think of something normal to say!
“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”
You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.
“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”
You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?
“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”
He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing.
“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”
Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?
But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out.
“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”
He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles.
All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go.
Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone.
“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot.
“How did you do that?”
His cheeks turn slightly pink.
“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”
“How did you read that fast?”
“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”
You scoff, taking another look through the stack.
“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”
The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently.
“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”
Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble.
“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”
“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look.
“Does that make it better?”
“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”
You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels.
“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second.
“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”
“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”
He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself.
He was totally in love with me.
And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again.
All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while.
The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it.
I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café.
What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi!”
Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout.
He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer.
Spencer. Spencer.
It feels important.
“I see you’ve upgraded.”
“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”
“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”
“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away.
Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you.
Spence.
Reality sets in.
“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”
It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk.
“I am a creature of habit.”
Another wave as he walks away.
The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way.
“Who was that?”
“Uh… I don’t actually know.”
Yeah. Reality definitely sets in.
Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up.
Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality.
Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.
But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character.
He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination.
This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression.
“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”
Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading.
Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more.
“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”
You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?
While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table.
“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin.
“Uh… hi?”
“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”
“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”
That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real.
“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”
“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”
“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”
What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—
“Garcia!”
Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed.
Adorable? Get a grip.
“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”
“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges.
You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?
“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.
“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”
“Yeah! Um, definitely!”
“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”
“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”
“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley.
Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents.
So that’s cool.
You’re cool with that.
Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer.
“Hotch?”
“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers.
“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet.
Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again.
You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it.
Nah. Boys are dumb.
You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it.
It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?
But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone.
He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line.
Weird.
You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?
“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”
It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it.
He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second.
“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”
“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”
“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”
“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”
He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless.
“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”
It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long.
“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”
“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”
Your brow furrows and you laugh.
“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”
“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”
You say it before you can think too hard.
“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”
And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid.
After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice.
One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.
It ceases. And then it starts again.
Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible.
“Do you think you should…”
His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air.
“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”
You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company.
But his job is important.
“What if you have a case?”
“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”
Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.
“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”
As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present.
“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”
Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer.
You balk.
“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”
“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”
“Where would this hanging out take place?”
Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits.
“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”
He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly.
“Restaurants.”
There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.
“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”
You look down. God, your face feels warm.
“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”
Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now.
“I would.”
More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted.
Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair.
“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”
“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”
Spencer chuckles.
“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”
Not, what?
Not, you’ve never been on a date before?
Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?
With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way.
He says none of that.
“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards.
“Sounds like a good first step.”
Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real.
“Will you go on a date with me?”
Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.
“I’d love to.”
He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair.
“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”
His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute.
“I should—”
“You definitely need to go.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”
You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper.
“I don’t—”
“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”
He’s so weird.
A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go.
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic
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Princess treatment only - MultiMuse x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Not many, some mentions of killing, but nothing graphic. Kind of fluffy
Type: HC’s
Request: N/A
Word Count: N/A
Prompt: Some HC’s as to how the muses would give the reader the princess treatment.
Notes: I don’t know where I was going with this, but this is mainly fluff, maybe sometime I’ll spice it up. I just had to get my writing juice brewing. Not proofread at all just go.
Jason Voorhees: Honestly, would treat you like a princess regardless. Will pick flowers for you when he’s outside. Always lets you borrow his flannels. Always walks in front of you to make sure there’s no danger, but looks back constantly to make sure there’s no danger behind you?? lmao. You won’t ever have to lift a finger when you’re with him. Literally at your beck and call. Will try his best not to kill in front of you, but sometimes it just ?? happens lol. Tries to be soft when touching you because you’re literally the most perfect thing that has ever crossed his path.
Michael Myers: Is your literal bodyguard. Will follow you anywhere and everywhere, you might as well call him your shadow. Lets you hug him and climb onto his lap whenever. Won’t hug you back yet, working on it. Nobody comes near you, no exceptions. Sorry. Stares at you most of the time. Can’t say it, but you’re literally flawless to him. Will use his body as a shield for you. Would kill anything for you. Eventually learns to put his palm against your cheek and that’s his second greatest accomplishment, the first being bagging you, literally and figuratively.
Tiffany Valentine: You won’t ever have to worry about a thing when you’re with her. Always gets her hands dirty for you. Lots of cheek and neck kisses. Praises your looks all the time. She will always brag about you whether it’s what you do, how you look, anything and everything. She would always make sure you have the latest clothes. She’d make sure you always had your staple make up pieces available. When it comes to killing, she’d get creative, that way you guys will never have literal blood on your hands, especially you, never you.
Billy Loomis: Lots of nicknames. Kinda only has a soft spot for you. Can never ever tell you no and stick to it. Won’t hesitate to kill anyone who makes fun of him for this. Drives you everywhere. Ties your shoes. Always makes time for you. Will help you pick out your outfits and tell you which one he likes and which one he doesn’t. Will wear the bracelets you make him. Anything in his closet is yours, help yourself. Always touching you, holding your hand, holding your waist, you’ve infatuated him enough to have him carelessly cover you in soft kisses, laying his head on your shoulder. Kinda creative with dates tbh.
Stu Macher: You will forever be his princess. Will carry you across puddles. Lots of cheek and forehead kisses. Would learn how to paint your nails for you during class. Always makes sure you have a good grade on your exam, whether he has to swap out the papers after class or make sure you get the right answers, you can absolutely count on him. You don’t have to use your brain around him, no worries. Thinks you look adorable in his sweaters, especially oversized. Loves when you sit on his lap. Prioritizes you over anything and everything. Even if you don’t like horror movies, Stu would absolutely find something else for you to watch.
Patrick Bateman: Honestly, when he falls in love with you, it’s princess treatment only. Will give you a skin care routine and help you follow through with it. Kind of makes you feel dumb, but not like a stupid dumb, more like a ‘oh dear sweet baby you are a little dumb but pretty, but dumb, let me help you’ Same thing if you fall asleep with your makeup on, Patricks on the way with the micellar makeup remover. Will speak up for you if you don’t like a service, he won’t be mean about it unless he has to. Always makes sure you’re hydrated (also part of your skin care routine). You will be a housewife/girlfriend. Feel free to splurge, you are his trophy princess after all. Will take you anywhere you want. Will make things up for you if he has to be at work late.
Leatherface: I don’t ever see a scenario where Bubba does not treat his s/o like a princess. It’s like part of the deal. Either way, expect wild flowers all the time. It’s his favorite thing to do for you. He even makes you a vase and makes sure your flowers are always fresh. Will literally die and kill for you without any hesitation. At his knees for you. Bubba will crawl to you across pins and needles if you asked him to. He’s always making sure you’re comfortable and safe, never hungry or in your mind for too long. Melts at your touch. Would learn how to dance just to dance to your favorite songs. Always gets awestruck with you.
Harley Quinn: Will absolutely take you anywhere you want, no matter how random it is. Always dazed when looking at you. Keeps pictures of you all dressed up in her bag or car or wherever she goes. Selina gave her a heart shaped locket once and yeah, you guessed it, the cutest picture of you is in there. Doesn’t hesitate to shoot any man for you. Leaves your face covered in red kisses. She would do anything to make you laugh. Anything you want, it’s yours! Just point at it.
Poison Ivy: Pamela will always spoil you, regardless of how you act. You’ve heard of people growing gardens for their s/o, she would grow forests for you. She’s the most gentle with you, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Paints your nails, brushes your hair while adding flowers into the locks. Always admires dressing you up and putting make up on you. Almost never wants you to leave. Slow dances with you. She’d do anything to keep you out of danger. You think Michael is a good bodyguard? Pamela is the bodyguard.
Bruce Wayne: hhnnnngh. Ok. No but you are the Princess Wayne. Spoiling you rotten goes without saying. Anything your little heart desires is yours. Helps you get dressed. His favorite is helping you with your stockings. Gentle kisses everywhere. Brushes your hair. Lifting you up constantly when there’s a crack in the pavement. Always the driver. Your safety is always first, always. No because whatever you want means whatever you want, which is why there are hello kitty plushies scattered across the Wayne manor. You’ve somehow managed to get your own cozy theater in there too. Princess treatment also means Bruce having to lay back just a teeny bit on Batman just to guard you too while you sleep.
Jason Todd: nmmnnmf YES. I don’t see him treating his s/o any other way. Lots of pet names. Loooves to help you get dressed. Sits you on the counter as he cooks. Never lets you out of his sight. Anything you want it’s yours. Always buying you cute socks and letting you wear his clothes. Forehead kisses. Oh man it’s so disgusting how much Jason loves his princess. Always taking pictures of you, no matter the angle. Would 1000000% tie bows into your hair if you asked.
Billy Hargrove: Honestly if he’s in love with you, princess treatment is granted. Always giving you his jackets, especially when you wear skirts or dresses out. Lifting you over mud and puddles. Subtle kisses on the head while you’re out. Body guard mode activated. He kinda becomes your shadow, appearing out of nowhere and greeting you with a kiss on the forehead. Ties your shoes without asking. Wiping any tears or smeared makeup off your face. Winks at you all the timeee.
Steve Harrington: Kind of similar to Stu, he always makes sure you pass your class. Poor princess doesn’t use her brain in school, too busy trying to stay awake. Always gives you his jacket, even if you don’t want to wear it, he’ll wrap it around you. Finds any excuse to carry you or pick you up. So affectionate. Kisses on the cheek, lips, forehead. Sometimes he will miss and kiss your eye but ugh it’s so fucking cute. Only has eyes for you. Tying your shoes, putting your socks on, literally just dressing you in general is a must. Literally will take you wherever you want, whenever. Drops everything when you call. Such a sucker with the nicknames for you.
Steve Rogers: Ugh another one. Think of him as a body guard who you get to kiss and sit on his lap. Always drops everything to make sure you’re okay. Cannot take his eyes off of you. So smooth with the reassurance. Kisses on the forehead constantly. Always tucks you in. Would help you bathe if you asked. Pulls you onto his lap every time you both sit down. Whatever you want, you’ll get. If he can’t do it, he’ll find a way. Cups your face in his hands when you cry, kisses your tears away. Ugh he’s your literal teddy bear, if you don’t like to be smothered? Pick another muse.
Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s your shadow, but he’s a little more … upfront with it. He’s constantly wrapping an arm around you, eyeing anyone who’s eyeing you. He’s so gentle if you’re sensitive. Kissing your cheek is his favorite. Always lingering his fingertips around your crevices. Makes sure you’re never hungry. Always up before you are. Lets you sleep in. If you fight, he will never raise his voice at you. Ready to carry you if you’re too tired to keep walking around. Slow dances with you just because. He’s always worried for you, making sure you’re okay, you’re not sick or hungry. Pet names with him are a must.
Loki Laufeyson: Okkkk and in what situation did you ever think loki was not going to give you the princess treatment??? You are literal Princess Laufeyson. Though he, and Sebastian maybe, are the only ones who can probably, maybe, say no to you, if you pout enough maybe he’ll come to a compromise with you. He never wants to upset you though. Would literally wipe out a small world for you. Or a few. Ok even betray anyone for you. Always cleaning your smeared makeup, fixing your hair, wiping you because you spilled your drink. He’s so devoted to you, im going to throw up. He devours you with his eyes from a distance, you’re never leaving his sight.
Cloud Strife: Ugh ok. Literal bodyguard, as he’s hired to be at times. At your beck and call, though he’d never admit it. Such a sucker and can never say no to you. Though it may take time, he can start calling you ‘baby’ ‘sweet girl’ ‘love’ he’s so infatuated with you and doesn’t know how to handle it. Your safety is his priority. Always listens to you ramble on and on. Brings you flowers for no reason other than he was thinking of you. He’s such a sucker for you. Follows you everywhere.
Sebastian Michaelis: He’s probably the most tame out of everyone but that doesn’t mean he’s not a sucker. There are rules he’s willing to bend for you, literally willing to kill anyone that has the slightest interest in hurting you. Always makes sure you’re fed and if you want a sweet treat, he’s on it. Listens to you talk, even if it’s silly. Dances with you almost every night. He’s so graceful with it. Dressing you and feeding you is his favorite but he might throw in a few teases “poor sweet baby, you haven’t woken up yet to tell your left foot from your right” as you rub your eyes with the wrong shoes on. Of course he’s willing to help, even if he has the idea that you do this on purpose, he's more than happy to oblige.
Spencer Reid: Though his job wouldn’t encourage it, he still drops almost everything to answer you. Always finds a way to share time with his job and his attention to you. Reads to you all the time, whether in person or over the phone. He’s always making comparisons of you being the princess in most fictional stories that you both come across. He’s so gentle with you. Caresses your face all the time. You lay your head on his lap or sit on his lap as he reads away. Always making sure to keep up with your well-being before his own. Would 10000% pick up a habit of writing you little notes or picking flowers for you or taking Polaroids or something to remind you of your everlasting presence in his mind.
#jason voorhees x reader#micheal myers x reader#billy loomis x reader#loki laufeyson x reader#stu macher x reader#harley quinn x reader#cloud strife x reader#tiffany valentine x reader#bucky barnes x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve rogers x reader#billy hargrove x reader#bruce wayne x reader#jason todd x reader#poison ivy x reader#patrick bateman x reader#leatherface x reader#sebastian michaelis x reader#spencer reid x reader#loki x reader
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Having them as best friend's:
Multiple X Reader
Contains: Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Adam, Lute, and Valentino
ALASTOR
You're gonna have to hear me out with this one: he's down for the gossip 24/7!!!
He will listen and talk shit with you 100% and I'm not arguing on the matter.
Someone says some wack ass shit to you in public? "I beg your fucking pardon?" With like the scariest grin that fucker can muster.
You start talking to someone? He interrogates them! If they're not strong enough to survive one little interrogation with THE Radio Demon, they're not good enough to date you. Sorry not sorry.
The friendship would be violent, but in almost a sibling type relationship. If he said something absolutely out of line, you'd smack him or kick him in the back of his knees. He'd always get payback, whether it was immediately or a few days/weeks later.
You called him a 'radio faced cunt' once in front of everyone and they all mentally started planning your funeral.
Until he clapped back with something equally as interesting.
He only accepted affection from you and Rosie. And Charlie that one time.
If you had a bad day, he'd know immediately by the look on your face and wouldn't let anyone talk to you until he knew exactly what had made one of his two favorite people upset.
He'd kill them if you told him to. Just supportive bestie shit!
Angel Dust
Let's be real, if you're best friends with Angel, you're probably equally as close with Cherri.
But just you and Angel Dust as best friend's? Shit, he's awesome.
Had a bad day? Go to his room and cuddle Fat Nuggets while you cry/rant about the days woes.
Spontaneous sleepovers BECAUSE YOU CAN!
Platonically flirting to the point that everyone thinks you're together. Neither of you deny the claims, just to keep everyone on their toes.
The words 'love you' followed by something like 'slut' or 'bitch' are common occurrences.
When it comes to dating, Angel just wants you to be happy.
But if someone breaks your heart? He'll come out with guns blazing with no hesitation. NO ONE hurts his bestie.
Platonic cuddles because you love his floof.
Would probably form some sort of marriage pact with you for fun one night when you're both wasted. "Yeah, I'd marry you if we're both still single in 100 years, Toots."
Husk
The banter would be unmatched. You call him a furry and he'll clap back with something that makes your jaw drop before you burst out into laughter.
He'd tell you how it is, regardless of whether you asked or not.
Sure, you're his best friend, and he cares about you. . . But it's because he cares about you that he won't sugarcoat something, even if it's not something you wanna hear.
He would listen to your problems, like any good friend.
He wouldn't trust anyone you had romantic interest in, especially since the ones you always went for had some serious issues.
He'd say something like: "Don't cry to me when that bastard breaks your heart."
And you wouldn't cry to him when it happened, but he'd make you a drink and silently take care of the problem once he had one of the other hotel residents hoist you up to your room.
The next morning you'd tell him he was right and he'd smirk as he wiped down the bar, but wouldn't say anything.
He was never good with affection, so he respects your space and you respect his.
He literally always has your back, even if you don't know it. You do.
Charlie
Honestly, you probably grew up together and that's how the two of you became best friends. (But even if you didn't, everything is still the same.)
She's the friend that's too trusting of everyone, so you easily filled the place of being the friend that questioned everyone's intentions.
You even heavily questioned Vaggie's intentions when Charlie insisted on bringing her around after finding her.
You only warmed up to Vaggie when Charlie admitted her feeling for her, to you one late evening. She was a nervous wreck, but you were always the level-headed friend.
Being best friends with the princess of Hell had some lesser known perks — invitations to high class parties, special access at LuLu World, and the most eventful sleepovers known to Hell.
Whenever you mentioned interest in someone, Charlie was the first to push you to go for it.
If it went wrong, she was always there first, telling you it would be completely fine. If it went good, she was the first to congratulate you.
She's 100% the mom friend. Thirsty? Here's something to drink. Cut your finger? "Here's a bandaid, be more careful."
A relationship similar to siblings, bit without any malice or envy. Just happy to be in each other's presence.
She literally documented everything the two of you did, since the very first time you called her your friend. She's not going anywhere.
Lucifer
Yeah, so, everyone thinks you're dating. Even Charlie is a bit suspicious. You're not, but you had been there by his side for as long as he could remember.
When Lilith left, you filled some part of the void, not allowing Lucifer to go hungry when he spent long days in his office.
On his good days, he's absolutely there for all the tea, especially if it's PIPING HOT. "That bitch said WHAT!?"
He has no filter and will unintentionally intentionally hurt someone's feelings when it comes to you.
He protects you as fiercely as he protects Charlie, despite knowing that you're capable of protecting yourself.
The two of you argue like an old married couple, which only fueled the dating rumors. . . Until you mentioned someone you had interest in.
Bro interrogated everyone you ever liked. Can't handle five minutes with the king of Hell? Not good enough for his bestie. Keep it movin' pal.
No one is allowed to call you a bitch, but him. Anyone else tries, they'll be met with absolute SASS.
Not even joking, Lucifer would be so sassy towards people, to the point that you picked it up.
So the two of you just went around unintentionally terrorizing demons!
Vox
You hate someone? Bet. He'll have someone spy on them and give you the real tea.
Brings you as the plus one for many major events, but bullies you the entire time. You thought you'd get five minutes of peace on your best friends arm? WRONG!
Literally throws toddler meltdown style temper tantrums when it comes to Alastor. You're usually the one who has to reboot him or just smack some sense into him.
You're both pretty level-headed most of the time, but one of you probably has a couple of screws loose. (It's definitely him.)
No one is good enough to date you. Not sorry.
If anyone looks at you wrong, they've signed their second death to double Hell.
You and Vox talk shit about everyone, especially if you've had a hard day.
If it was bad enough, he'd offer to kill the demon who dared make your day shit. He'd still listen to you though.
"Fuck that. You're not going alone." And then you have to wait 15 minutes for him to look 'good enough' to go out, even if you were powerful and just wanted to go on little walk down the street.
Body doubling. Different tasks, silence, but the comfort of having someone else in the room. Absolutely.
Velvette
She likes you slightly more than Vox and Valentino, which is fabulous.
Weekly designated sleepover nights where the both of you unload from the week.
Someone is rude to you? Cue Vel lecturing them on how they fucked up and their career is over, but make it musical.
You went on a date with someone and didn't tell her? "I want details, Lovey! Are they an overlord too? Tell. Me. Everything."
Prepare for Hell's greatest gossip sessions, especially around the topic of Hell's cutthroat fashion industry.
She might not seem like it, but she's a good listener.
You're leaving the tower to run a small errand? Surprise Surprise, she's coming with you and turning it into a whole day, complete with lunch and shopping!
She uses you as a model sometimes, purely because she can.
Will call you a sweet name and insult you in the same breath.
Gets worried if you don't text back within five minutes. She will literally show up to make sure you're alive. You're probably taking a nap.
Rosie
Literally the best to spend the day with. She loves walking with you or just having tea.
Much like Alastor, she would be down for the gossip, but she wouldn't go very far with it.
In terms of relationships, she'd want you to be happy, but would also threaten to eat your partner if they hurt you.
She'd be such a good listener when you came to talk about your day.
She'd even offer advice and just casually drop something like: "Listen to your intuition, darling. It'll tell you others intentions."
At some point or another, everyone questions whether you're dating or not, which both of you laugh at frequently.
She enjoys her privacy, but she also would love having you around more than others.
She would love giving platonic affection, just to make you feel loved.
Sometimes Alastor pops up and Rosie gushes about how the two of you would get along — and immediately you're just thinking how this trio would be iconic.
She doesn't care about your past, you don't care that she's a Cannibal. . . Well, she cares, but she would NEVER hold it against you!
Adam
He literally goes out of his way to piss you off.
There's a lot of threatening and him calling you stuff like 'Sugar Tits'.
Adam annoys you to the point of you WANTING to just jump to Hell, but you never do, because he's your best friend, and you wouldn't want to emotionally traumatize him by making him think that he lost his best friend to Lucifer, AFTER losing his wives to him.
He says "Suck my dick, Bitch" AT LEAST A DOZEN TIMES A DAY. It irritates you to no end.
The banter is unmatched. He wants to get sassy? You're the SASS MASTER.
You pushed him down the stairs for fun and he didn't talk to you for two days.
He doesn't give a fuck who you date, but if they hurt you, he's taking care of them and not telling you SHIT to avoid all of that mushy feelings crap.
The two of you argue too much for anyone to think you're together.
There's NEVER a moment of silence when you're out. He's always singing, talking, laughing, or mimicking the sound of some instrument.
Lute
She's annoyed 24/7 and you're one of the two main causes.
But she wouldn't replace you because who else would put up with her attitude and listen to her rants like you?
If you had a hard day, she'd probably make some offhand comment and then subtly try to make it better by like getting you ice cream with rainbow sprinkles or something.
She hates physical touch, so the only time she touches you is to smack you, probably for saying something very Adam-ish. "Say that shit again and it'll be worse."
She hates everyone you have romantic interest in, but let's you learn your own lessons the hard way.
Nobody could ever picture the two of you as friends, let alone dating.
She's like the sister that has it all but claims she's the black sheep of the family.
Her job comes before everything else in her life, that including you, but when she has time for you, there's usually food and shit talking involved.
She makes sure you drink water every day. She'd kick your ass if you passed out because of dehydration.
She'd give you the key to her place, but you'd never use it unless she told you to. (Like in the event she forgot her set or something)
(I've reached the 10 media limit, so just imagine a gif right here)
Valentino
He offers you a job almost weekly. You hold off on kicking his ass every single time because that's your best friend.
Derives great pleasure from pissing you off.
You don't agree with the manner he treats his employees, so you undermine him every chance you get, just to make sure they get the best treatment possible.
It pisses him off to no end, but he let's it go. He wouldn't hurt you. He couldn't, not without a whole bunch of backlash from quite literally everyone.
Whenever you start liking someone, he warns you to be careful because he knows the industry. He is the industry.
He's gossip central. Talks super exaggerated with his hands and his voice changes whenever he remembers another detail.
He's a touchy feller, that much is evident. He's always touching you in some way, but it's not sexual/romantic or violent, it's more reassurance for both of you. It's a safe middle ground.
You have to leave for some reason? "The limo will take you, but don't touch anything."
He throws tantrums on the regular and you've learned to just let them go on until he eventually shuts the fuck up and let's you speak.
He'll call you a slut and then ask if you want to get food. It's extremely clear that you're not dating lmao.
A/N: I hope this is okay! I've never written for a bunch of these characters, as I just stared writing Hazbin stuff last week, and even then, it was a small Vox one-shot and a Lucifer one-shot.
Requests are open, if anyone would wanna request something for one of these characters? I'd pull through to the best of my ability.
Part Two
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#angel dust#hazbin hotel husk#charlie morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin rosie#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lute#valentino hazbin hotel#x reader#hazbin hotel imagine
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Uhhh, so can I request something about Wolverine where both he and reader have a crush on each other but he won't show it and she is too afraid of rejection to confess, however, when Xavier sends reader to talk to Wolverine about their mission, she walks into his room and finds him top topless which only frustrates her more and leads to Logan noticing that and taking his chances to check her feelings 😓 Ahem you can make it NSFW according to the last thing I implied to 👀 hopefully this is not too out of character but I really crave any content about this man 😓😓😓
Also excuse my language if there are any mistakes, English us not my first language 🫡
SFW! Wolverine/GN!Reader
This is such a good prompt!! I hope this does justice for your vision!! Also- don't worry, your English is very good!! Hope it's okay that I implied NSFW instead of wrote it out explicitly. I didn't quite have the energy to get that far 😭
TWs: not many. Miscommunication. Reader written while picturing Fem! But no pronouns mentioned.
Anyone around the mansion could tell that something weird was going on between you and Logan.
You were always really jumpy and nervous around him. You'd squirm and fiddle with your hands when sat next to him, looking like you'd rather be anywhere else. You could be quick to lose your temper at him sometimes and you clearly dreaded training sessions with him. Most people just thought you hated the man, but the one time Jean had seen a peak into your mind she certainly knew the truth. The professor probably knew too, to be honest.
You were hopelessly pining for the man- But you'd never, ever confess to him. He was in love with Jean. He had been in love with Jean for years. There was no chance he ever had feelings for you. So- instead of facing these feelings, you had a bad tendency to run from them. Being around him made you jittery and nervous, sitting next to him made your heart beat crazily and you had a short temper with him because he was always running headfirst into danger. It didn't matter that he had a healing factor, you didn't like that he was endangering himself like that.
Logan, on the other hand, was always stoic. He treated you like any other X-man or friend. It didn't matter how his heart fluttered around you or the heat that rose to his cheeks every time you did something particularly attractive, he wasn't exactly an expert in love. He certainly had a hard time showing it. What he did notice though, was the change in your demeanor lately. You had been acting so strange, and it's gotten to the point where you'd straight up leave the room when he would enter, and he was frustrated. Logan was starting to get fed up with your newfound attitude, and despite Jean's gentle nudging, he certainly wasn't going to tell you what he felt for you. What he thought about you. If anything, It would give you more of a reason to hate him.
You had been successfully avoiding Logan for a while, having been in a particularly good mood today. That was until the professor pulled you aside and asked- well, told you to brief Logan about the upcoming mission. Your heart immediately dropped into your stomach. You, alone with him? In the same room? The professor was tasking you to dive into your own personal hell- and there was no way he didn't know that! All he did when you began to complain and make excuses was smile knowingly at you.
You swore that you had dissociated the entire time you had been walking to his room. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to be here, you didn't want to talk to him. Nope! You were absolutely dreading it.
You Knock three times. After a second of silence, you already find yourself overthinking your knock. Was it too loud? Too quiet? Maybe he could already smell it was you, and is just ignoring the knock so he doesn't have to look at your stupid flushed face-
"Come in." Okay, So, not that. You open his door slowly, not wanting to seem too eager to enter. You're looking down at the paperwork the entire time, mouth already running with the time of day everyone would be leaving, Which suits to wear, where you were going. You don't even look up until after the door has already been shut.
"There's a few more factors that need to be taken account of when we manage to get a better survey of the location but-" You yelp when you look up, greeted by a shirtless Logan, clothed only by a low-hanging pair of gray sweatpants. You're quick to cover your eyes, face burning from a mixture of embarrassment and... well, something else.
"For the love of god, Logan!" You gasp. You can hear Logan chuckle at your reaction, and the action lights a spark of anger inside of you.
"The least you can do is be decent when you invite me in!" You snap at him. He huffs a little at the change of tone, meanwhile you're trying your absolute best to forget how you practically saw everything in those sweatpants. You hear him take a few steps forwards until he's standing so close you can feel the heat from his body.
"So what? You've patched me up before. It's not like you've never seen me naked." Logan sounds annoyed, and you feel guilty for your reaction for a moment. You sigh, shaking your head.
"That's different." You say. Logan hums.
"Is it really?" His tone is teasing, and you almost feel humiliated. He's making fun of you. Of course he was. You were absolutely hopeless.
"Look, Just forget it. Take the damn papers and read the brief yourself." Your eyes are still closed as you slam the papers into what you think is his chest and try to turn to leave, but Logan grabs your arm. He doesn't even try to pick them up as he grabs the top of your arms, keeping you from running away as he walks you backwards.
"Look, I get that I'm not the easiest guy to get along with, but ya' never had a problem with me before. What's happened?" Logan's words start out rough, but if you didn't know any better you'd think that there was a little vulnerability leaking into his tone. You gasp as the surface of the cold door hits your back. You keep your eyes firmly shut, still not willing to open them and look at him. You didn't want to see his face, worried that you'd blush even more or he'd manage to figure it out- if he hadn't already. He'd just make fun of you. He wouldn't take you seriously. Would he?
"Nothing. Nothing has happened, happy?" You say, nerves creeping into your unsteady voice. It's hardly a lie, nothing really happened, but Logan had a habit of stiffing out dishonesty. He growls, and the sound makes your skin prickle.
"Don't lie to me. You can hardly look me in the eye." Logan growls. You scoff at him.
"That's not true!" A blatant lie, and you were sure it was obvious. Still, part of you was hoping he'd simply let it go. You should have known better, because everyone under the sun knew that Logan was one of the most stubborn men on the planet
"Prove it. Look at me." His words make you hesitate. You frown, not wanting to give in. Unstoppable force meets unmovable object- but with every push you feel your nerves start to go shot. You were anxious, flustered, worried- you just wanted it to all be over. If you just opened your eyes, it would all be over.
"Open your eyes, doll." You can feel Logan's breath fan across your face, and in the mix of shock, you finally open your eyes. Logan is so close to your face you can feel his breathing. You hardly know where to look, face flushing red as you blush as the close-contact. You get nervous when you make eye contact, gaze flittering about from his nose, to his ears, his sideburns, and to his lips. You must have let your eyes linger there for a little too long, because Logan starts to chuckle at you. You feel the sting of embarrassment. Logan sees something in your face shift, and knowing you'd just pull away again, he takes a shot in the dark.
Logan kisses you, and you have no clue how to respond to that at first. You go wide-eyed for a moment, but his hands let go of your arms and wrap around you and you cant help but melt into the kiss. He's a good kisser. I mean, with years of experience, you knew he would be. But getting to experience that yourself gave you a whole new perspective to it. He cups the back of your neck as he draws you in for another kiss, again and again. You're breathing hard when the two of you finally separate, Logan being mostly unbothered besides a small smile and a red tint to his cheeks.
"All that drama, and it's because you had feelings f'me. Heh." -is the first thing he says. You gasp, offended.
"Oh-shut up. S'not like you're any better than I am." You frown, sliding a hand around the back of his neck to yank him closer. "Seriously, you weren't exactly dropping hints." Logan chuckles again, Before hooking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up and against him. You yelp as he does so, getting flustered when you realize that you could now feel everything that you had been trying to forget seeing earlier.
"I'm kissing you now, aren't I?"
#x men 97#x men#x men comics#x men 97 x reader#x men headcannons#wolverine headcannons#wolverine x reader#wolverine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett headcannons#logan howlett
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Both the parts for people finding out we're dating the characters are so good! Can I please request you to include Wriothesley in the next part if you're writing it?
how people find out you’re dating them
Wriothesley, Capitano
Wriothesley
ONCE AGAIN THESE GODDAMN MELUSINES
Most specifically SIGEWINNE.
she’s such a cutie patootie. you just wanna eat her up whenever you see her! Sigewinne, the adorableness she is, is not the smartest.
Whenever you come down so often to come visit Wriothesely, she comments on how you are such a good friend to always keep him company! and you just can’t bear to explain to her that is not the case!
This goes on for A MONTH. A GODDAMN MONTH and she has not figured it out.
Even when she bursts into his office to find you maybe massaging his back, arms, hugging him, holding him- she is completely OBLIVIOUS to the point Wriothesly wants to test out kissing you in front of her.
However, her obliviousness comes to a stop one day and for the stupidest yet funniest reason;
He’s not drinking his tea.
She’s shocked. Like jaw dropped, absolutely still shocked. She’s constantly trying to get him to drink or EAT anything other than tea so when she sees him with a MILKSHAKE?! A FUCKING MILKSHAKE.
She’s ready to lose her shit.
and then she sees YOU with the opposite flavour milkshake and she immediately knows and screams it out for the ENTIRE prison to hear.
A prisoner comes in injured; “Have you heard Wriothesly and Y/N are together?!”
On her next vacation, she’s running to Neuvillette, Furina, Clorinde- EVERYONE.
Well, it was a month of peace.
Capitano
It’s funny because he genuinely isn’t even trying to hide it from the Harbingers.
He doesn’t not tell them because he’s worried for your safety- he’s the fourth fucking harbinger he will GLADLY beat anyone’s ass for you even if it means it’s his own coworkers.
The man just doesn’t talk. That’s literally why no one knows. Like yeah, he’ll murmur a few words every now and then but like, he doesn’t see a reason in bringing something up if someone doesn’t mention anything related so he stays quiet.
He does talk a bit more though, and he’s willing to actually sit with the harbingers whenever they sometimes hang out.
It’s weirding them out.
The weirdest thing though,
WEIRDEST.
Is when he speaks to Childe.
Even Childe is absolutely shocked- like what do you mean the guy he’s been like practically simping over fight wise is actually soeaking to him?!?!!!
They have to ask Pierro if he’s sick, and even Pierro doesn’t know and Pierro is the ONLY one capitano talks.
They literally find out from YOU.
You walked into the castle once, being escorted by a guard who is quick to leave once he’s finally let you reach the insides of the castle.
“Sorry to disturb,” You spoke nervously, somehow ending up in some sort of lounge room with the Harbingers. “I’ve brought lunch for my…boyfriend? Uh, Capitano? Do you know where I could find him?”
“Yeah, down the hall, first room on the left.” Arlecchino murmurs, reading through the latest Snezhnaya newspapers.
You smile at her, although she doesn’t see and everyone just returns back to normal.
Until they all realize WHO the hell are you and BOYFRIEND?!?
They all give each other a look before they are RUNNING to you, ready to ask questions and capitano is shocked when suddenly all the Harbingers are in his office and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop them from questioning you on everything.
He likes the way you laugh at them all- it’s cute. He should bring you more often.
follow me on Twitter!; @II_makelemonade
#genshin impact#genshin fic#wriothesly x reader#wriothesley#wriothesely x reader#wriothesely genshin#capitano x you#capitano genshin#capitano x reader#capitano#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#genshin x reader
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the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle
pairing: fem!reader x tom riddle
content: muggleborn!reader, swearing
summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.
a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!
read part one here!
⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.
Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”
You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”
He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”
Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.
He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.
And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”
His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”
He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”
You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”
His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.
You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.
“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”
He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”
Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.
It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.
He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.
“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.
He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”
You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”
Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.
He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”
What a fucking tool.
The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.
You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.
“Riddle. Are you joking me?”
Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”
She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”
“That’s silly.”
“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”
“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.
“Well, no—“
“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.
Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.
“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”
You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.
Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.
So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.
And Tom always gets what he wants.
taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!
#🎞 by.ivy#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine#hp imagine#tom riddle blurb#tom riddle x reader fluff#tom riddle fluff#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x y/n#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle fanfiction#tom marvolo riddle#tom riddle#tom riddle drabble#tom riddle angst
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Curious on how the Pleiades interact with Flower of Nazarick Mc.
I've already done Entoma and Solution
but here are the others!
🖤🖤🖤
Flower of Nazarick Reader with Pleiades | Yandere Overlord
Sebas Tian
“Master (Y/n)!”
“Oh hi Sebas…I seem to be in a predicament.”
“Master…how did you get yourself trapped in the wall?”
I figured out I could phase through things but then I somehow just stopped…But I’ll get out eventually! I'll just be here for a while.”
“I see. Would you like anything while you wait?”
“Hmm, can I get a–”
He finds you oh-so-precious
He just so happens to witness some of your weirdest and vulnerable moments
Internally he’s the happiest dragon butler there can be
He absolutely lives for the times you first discover different parts of Nazarick
When you aren’t training or being babysat by Albedo you’ll be doing your own thing
Sometimes monitored by him and the Pleiades
And the way he’s bared witness to your general silliness is a blessing to him
As much as he’ll preach to Yuri about their job to ‘raise’ you right he too will sway with a bat of your eyes
Yuri Alpha
“Come Master (Y/n). Lord Ainz summons you.”
“So early? Can’t he just wait a few more hours….”
“He’s already been waiting Master (Y/n). Please wake up”
“..”
“...Master. Master? I apologize in advance.”
"Blagh!!!"
Because the floor guardians tend to spoil you to bits no one’s all too keen on actually making you do anything
But with Ainz’s permission, she takes it upon herself to be some kind of disciplinarian
…a disciplinarian whose authority sways with her admiration
She’s well aware that you are a Supreme being in training
So she regales you with tales of the supreme beings who ran Nazarick in hopes of inspiring your greatness
Any kind of decision or even a break in your casual tone with the Pleiades she’s swooning with a blush
She can’t believe her Nazarick’s flower is growing well and will one day be fit to rule alongside Ainz
She will personally take over anyone she deems too forward with you
Whether in disguise or not you happen to be way too flippant about your importance to Nazarick
So until you take the proper discretion to threaten those who disrespect you she’ll do it in the meantime
With extreme prejudice
Lupisregina Beta
“Ah! Master I’ve never tasted something so wonderful!”
“Gee, thanks it’s a favorite of mine back where I’m from!”
“Hmmm~Learning about my Supreme Flower is the best!”
“Ah haha, LP make sure to chew your food before you speak.”
“Ack-! A nickname I’m dying!”
One of the most fun Pleiades to hang out with
Unless given specific instructions she’s all about fun
And she adores how you just want to have fun with her too
That often doesn’t mean being in Nazarick which means you’ll be going a little outside their perimeter
That’s where you’ll probably get to see just how little Lupusregina cares for anyone who is not you
You’ll have to stop her from turning invisible to silently slash away anyone who could take your time from her
She’s not good at filling in the blanks so you’ll have to be very specific
Otherwise, you might just find any place you visit to be a graveyard
Narberal Gamma
“Psst Nabarel…you’re scaring everyone away. I’m supposed to blend in.”
“My apologies Master. It’s just these dirty humans dare look at you so casually I feel inclined to–”
“Nabarel.”
“Right sorry.”
This whole pretending to hide among the humans thing has gotten on her nerves
To see Ainz be treated so flippantly by worthless beings no less
It doesn’t help when the prized Flower of Nazarick occasionally does the same thing
And while she might have the restraint to behave around Ainz
She slips a lot more around you
Glaring more openly at anyone who even looks at you
She won’t even let anyone put a friendly hand on your back
She’s breaking bones if they get too close
But if you bat your eyes and smile sweetly she’ll snap it back
She won’t apologize though
Not for hurting them or endangering their life
Disguise or not she refuses to accept lower-life forms even getting within your vicinity
But she can’t deny the pride and excitement when you allow her to wait on you
Taking a break from her stupid disguise to return to serving you makes it a little bit better
Though she much prefers you stay within Nazarick
CZ2128 Delta
“Master (Y/n).”
“Yes, Delta?”
“May I hold you?”
“Uh, sure?”
“Thank you, Master!”
She thinks you’re so so so so so so cute
She thinks she might short-circuit from cuteness
In her mind, you rival Eclair Eklair Eklare (The penguin Janitor)
If you give her permission to hold you she may never want to let go
But if it bothers you
She’ll settle by resting her head on your lap
Or holding onto any part of your person
She’s not as violent as the other Pleiades when it comes to protecting you but that doesn’t mean she won’t hurt anyone for you
If any creature divides her attention from you she’ll smite them quickly
And then try to get praise from you
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere harem#yandere overlord x reader#yandere overlord anime#yandere overlord#yandere overlord x flower of nazarick reader#flower of nazarick reader#yandere pleiades#yandere nabarel gamma#yandere sebas tian#yandere yuri alpha
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Random things in Blue Lock I find endearing:
-> Barou looking after Nagi
This was cute, you know. I mean, Barou was the one who first scolded Nagi for swimming in that bathtub, but he is also the one taking care of him—you getting me? It's a small thing, I know, but it's really cute!
-> Rin accepting Hiori's help
With the way Rin was shown till that point, I was actually scared for Hiori because I thought Rin was going to shook off Hiori by saying, "Fuck off!" Like, it just seems very plausible for his character, but then he surprised me!
Just look at him allowing Hiori to help him up by his arms! I understand that many will think that I've gone crazy, but this is one of those things where if you know, you know.
–> Barou throwing Nagi
I snorted at this panel. Like, before this panel, we can see that Isagi literally has his hand around Barou's nape, but no, Barou has to throw Nagi only, it got to be Nagi—if that doesn't sum up their relation, I don't know what will.
–> IGA-DA-GOAT-GURI and Goatmaru
When Isagi's name was suddenly called and he got startled which cracked them up. I just absolutely loved the above panel—so adorbs‼️
-> Sae being Sae
I really haven't seen anyone talk about what he said above—even I seemed to have overlooked his words. It seems so bittersweet that when Sae gave validation to Isagi, he mentioned Rin too like, "He saw through your instincts too." Almost as if it were some kind of necessary requirement for someone to shine in his eyes.
Like, in simple words, "You looked through my little brother's instinct too? Now that's some good shit!"
It's kinda a subtle way of Sae giving Rin validation too like, "He is a solid player! How I know? Oh because he saw through your gameplay."
Sweet.
-> Ubers
Lorenzo especially. Like, just look at him! I don't need to say anything more!
-> Silly Boy
I wanna squeeze his face!!!! AAAAAA!!
And he is supposed to be the ace of the national team???? Like, look at that face, I will never be intimidated by such a cutie patootie. He deserves so many smooches!
-> Little Brother
Aww. Just, awwwwwwww.
Head pats is my own love language too, so seeing this made me melt, and to be honest, Niko is Blue Lock's little brother! It just makes sense to think like that.
#blue lock#bllk#barou shouei#nagi seishiro#itoshi rin#hiori yo#igarashi gurimu#gagamaru gin#itoshi sae#don lorenzo#sendou shuto#mikage reo#niko ikki#雪 ranting
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Murder Board 2.0
Updated 4/25/24
Since I've figure a few things out, I need to re-do my Murder Board. New answers, new questions.
What I think I know:
NEIL GAIMAN IS A LYING LIAR WHO LIES. Except when he's dropping hints or answering straight out. All of his answers to anything anyone asks about GO are suspect at best. (I cannot blame him or anyone else on the cast or crew -- they spent A LOT of time and energy building this very meticulous puzzle game for us -- why would ANY of them give ANY of it away? That would ruin all the fun!)
Most of the discontinuity of Season 2 can be explained by POV switches between characters. See here and here for more. I think the title/location cards are also probably POV Clues, that needs a closer look.
Crowley gave something to Aziraphale in his mouth when they kissed. It's the fly. Now, what else was in the fly besides Gabriel's memory? RECORDS.
Saraqael and Crowley and by proxy, Aziraphale are all working together. See here and here for more. That explains A. the tiny miracle blowing up into a 25 Lazarii miracle. It didn't. They had to cover for something else that did. B. Saraqael showing the archangels the book shop in 2019 in the spy hole. C. Crowley's spy turtle neck and where he went during Aziraphale's Job flashback. D. Why Saraqael helps him see the trial in Heaven. (Oh! Muriel's now in on it, too!)
Crowley's memory is fine, it's a red herring. He is dissing Furfur, he is denying knowing Saraqael even after she gives him a reason to recognize her to hide that they are working together. He tells Jim he doesn't remember why they invented gravity, but that whole scene if from Aziraphale's perspective, so the conversation likely didn't actually go just like that.
Shax is on a mission besides Gabriel -- she's looking for whatever Aziraphale and Crowley are hiding. Gabriel is a side-mission.
The hand-washing comment from Crowley in the Resurrectionists minisode -- he tells DaVinci about helicopters in Good Omens the novel. It's just a thing he can do.
What is up with Maggie? Maggie's freaking Jesus 2.0. She's what Shax is looking for, and who Crowley, Aziraphale, and Saraqael are hiding. Also, where is God? God is busy being Maggie, that's where.
SECRET SONGS??? Why are the songs secret?? I'm losing my mind, what is happening?? I think this is a message that A. Aziraphale and Crowley are okay, and B. We will absolutely be getting part 3 of 1941.
I still think the scenes might be out of order. Is it as simple as watching them in chronological order? Could be.
What still needs answering:
The clocks jumping time still don't make any sense.
The weird hand in the 1941 photo still doesn't make sense.
Aziraphale's chair position being moved still doesn't make sense.
The extras behaving strangely still doesn't make sense.
Crowley's car being in the wrong spot on the road after Shax threatens him still doesn't make any sense.
I'm not sure that the POV switches explains all the weird sounds.
I'm not sure that POV switches explain Crowley's sunglasses going from silver to black.
I still don't know why Aziraphale went to Edinburgh, or why he stopped at the graveyard where Gabriel's statue is.
Why does Michael do the "nothing's in the box" thing with the matchbox? It's a petty specific action. Someone pointed out that Michael's nails look chewed and terrible, are we meant to stare at the matchbox while something else goes unnoticed? Well, duh. But what?
We most certainly did not get the whole scene where the Metatron is talking to Aziraphale. What else was said?
What did Crowley do during his ALL-NIGHT JAUNT in Heaven? Did he sneak around and steal something? Did he uncover something? Did they hurt him?
What did Aziraphale do with his briefcase that he took to Edinburgh? We see it in the book shop from his POV, and Edinburgh is seen from Crowley's POV, so they both know it exists. And then it's gone.
Why does Gabriel prophecy with God's voice? IS it God's voice? It's a woman, is it Francis McDormand? It's hard to hear.
Why the heck did Maggie and Nina go talk to Crowley while the Metatron was talking to Aziraphale? What they had to say wasn't important enough to leave Nina's shop during a rush, and I definitely don't think they derailed Crowley from what he needed to say to Aziraphale, though it might look at first as if they did. So what was that about?
When Shax stops Aziraphale for a ride, he says, "Oh, I really need to get to --" and then is cut off. He really needs to get to where? It's an easy assumption to think he means the book shop, or London. But is that all he means? Or was he on his way somewhere else? And if it was just the book shop, what does he mean he's late? Late for what?
Crowley can tell "something's wrong," and he doesn't just mean the demons. What?
Why would the Metatron allow Beelzebub and Gabriel to leave, after trying to stop Armageddon 2.0, but come after Crowley and Aziraphale like that? Because of the big miracle? Just because they're higher-ups? Something stinks. Is it because he knows they know where Jesus is?? Fuck.
Why does Crowley say "Oh, God," right before his confession in the final fifteen? To let Aziraphale know that he understands what Aziraphale is saying? That God (or the Voice) is there? Seems possible.
When Crowley leaves Heaven, he tells Saraqael and Muriel to come, too. But in the elevator, Michael and Uriel are there! When the fuck did they show up??
Why does Beelzebub tell Shax to attack the bookstore? Aren't they worried about Gabriel being harmed? And they know Hell is understaffed. Maybe that's why they command it? Because they know Shax won't be able to get the demons?
What about the Masons? It's such a specific thing for the pub owner to bring up, what is the meaning of it? And Maggie has a Mason symbol on her necklace. Did the Masons carve the statue of Gabriel? When did they see him?
The only narration we hear in the entire season is Aziraphale in the Resurrectionist flashback. I believe this is to throw us off the POV character switches all season. But still, why do we only hear him narrate 1 flashback? I think he's reading the diary to himself in the present day. That would explain the end, "And that was the last I was to see of Crowley for some time." He JUST heard the story of the jukebox from Maggie. And Gabriel appearing -- same city that statue is in. Of course he thought of something important from that diary entry! Now, what did he notice?
Is the Book of Life a real threat? We hear two stories about it, that it's real and that its ability to erase beings was something to scare the cherubs with, this is inconclusive. Crowley gets nervous after Beelzebub talks to him, but I think he's pissed that Heaven and Hell have taken an interest in them again, especially since they're trying to hide Maggie!Jesus.
So many promo posters show Aziraphale, Crowley, and Jimbriel together, or symbols of them. Three feathers: two white, one black. Tea cup, cocoa mug, wine glass. The three of them. Not with Beelzebub, not with Muriel, the three of them. And all three of them have been Jesus-coded in some small way. No one else. Those three. What. Why. Are they the sacrifice required to bring about the new world? Why not Beez, then?
Wait. Two Crowleys?? WTF. There are two Crowley puppets in the magic shop. Am I insane? I have no theory here, just some wild speculation that needs a lot more time to simmer. Two actual Crowleys, or two ideas of Crowley? Or something to hurt my head?
An album on the wall in Maggie's shop says "Rat Keith." This seems to me to be an allusion to The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett. In the book, some men have tied several rats' tails together to create a rat king that keeps the wild rats under control -- except that the rat king has too much power and is doing way more than just that. People die. So who's been given too much power and is now running the show instead of being a puppet? The Metatron, perhaps? Hm . . . Also, Keith is the young boy who plays the part of the Pied Piper for Maurice's scam. He leads all the rats out of town, never mind that the rats can talk and are in on the scam.
Repeating themes: (I am just realizing that these aren't just themes, they are all Clues!)
Beverages of all kinds -- tea for Aziraphale, wine or whiskey for Crowley, cocoa for Jim.
Time -- lots of clocks/mentions of time
Love/partnership/togetherness being stronger than separateness
Memories/forgetting/remembering
Payment -- money comes up in both the Resurrectionists minisode and the Flesh Eating Nazi Zombies minisode, but no one pays for anything in present. There is bartering, but no money.
Rising from the dead -- Job's kids (even though they weren't actually dead), bodies used for science, Nazi zombies, the Second Coming. I think this is all just hinting around Jesus -- sure, hinting around Jesus, who we were expecting to show up in Season 3, but she's already here. The hints indicate that she is already on Earth, not going to show up next season. Ha!
Unreliable narrators. Because we are seeing the whole show from various characters' points of view. Because of that, we can only see what they know, expect, believe, or understand, but also what they want us to see. We need to take the whole second season with a grain of salt.
Death in general -- but 9a., I'm a dirty pagan, why didn't I make this connection sooner, death always leads to REBIRTH, change, something totally new and 9b. there are tarot cards in the magic shop, and even if you're not a dirty pagan, the Death tarot card means transition, something must die before a new thing can be born. Hmmmm.
Morality and what is "good" and what is right
Recognition and identity. Ah! Probably at least partly because Maggie is Jesus. How would you recognize her? She doesn't look like White Jesus, or even a more realistic Middle-Eastern or Black Jesus. She looks like Maggie. Who would know her? I think there's more to this theme, but Maggie as Jesus 2.0 adds up.
Licenses, permits, permissions, rules, proof, evidence, what's allowed. All of the minisodes mention this, and it all gets mentioned again over and over. Because Heaven and Hell do have rules they have to follow. Which drives home my theory that Gabriel stole some very incriminating records from Heaven when he left, Crowley got hold of them and gave them to Aziraphale during the kiss, and now Aziraphale is going to nail them.
Repeating words and phrases:
Technically
Properly
Isn't it just?
Too late
Funny old world
Not as such
Made for each other
EVERYWHERE
Obviously
Two shakes of a lamb's tail
Horses
Hints:
Powell and Pressburg films
The Crow Road
Catch 22
The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, Terry Pratchett in general
Jane Austin
Book Good Omens
The titles of episodes, minisodes, places, etc. 7a. The Arrival: a book and a movie, though the book seems far more relevant. And lovely. The Clue: a movie. Companion to Owls: a line from a Bible story. I Know Where I'm Going: a movie. The Resurrectionists: two novels, each called The Resurrectionist, singular. Both look unhinged. The Hitchhiker: a Twilight Zone episode. Nazi Zombie Flesheaters: Literally no other reference. ?? Nazi Zombies do appear in a LOT of movies, comics, and video games, usually as a dark joke. The Ball: a video game. Irrelevant? It's a puzzle-based game, so maybe not. Every Day: a song AND a movie. Some themes repeat here: Puzzle games, being re-directed from one's path to find true love, death and being brought back to life in a gruesome and unpleasant way.
#good omens#good omens 2#crowley#aziraphale#good omens meta#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#good omens analysis#good omens fan theory#ineffable mystery#good omens minisodes#good omens 1941#good omens resurrectionists#good omens Job
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I think if peeta even got a sniffle Katniss would go fucking feral, drop everything and take care of him (and get sick herself)
ABSOLUTELY SHE WOULD.
She'd call her mom like, "he's dying, what do I do?"
Peeta's in the background like, "Hi Mrs. Everdeen, I just have seasonal allergies, I took some Zyrtec, everything is fine!
"YOU'RE DYING, SHUT UP AND GO TO BED BEFORE I KILL YOU."
BUT NOW
Now, Anon? Now i get to talk about what I think happens when KATNISS gets sick. And spoiler alert, it's GREAT.
The first time Katniss gets sick after the war, she doesn't tell anyone. She just locks herself in her house, puts a note on the door saying that she's fine and to come back tomorrow hoping that Sae sees it and doesn't bother with cooking anything for her. She grabs some remedies, a box of plain crackers, a blanket, some water, and trudges her way upstairs back to bed.
A few hours later she hears a loud crash in the kitchen. She waddles and sniffles her way downstairs to the sight of a cursing Peeta, sprawled on the kitchen floor, while his prosthetic is dangling from the open window above the sink.
"What are you doing?" she says in a congested voice, "I left a note on the door." She moves over to the window to unlatch his prosthesis from where it got snagged on the windowsill.
"This," he says, brandishing the crumpled paper in the air, "is NOT enough of an explanation. People were worried. Haymitch was worried..." He glances away at that.
"Haymitch? Bullshit." she snorts as she bends down to reattach his leg. She stays down when she's done realizing that she's feeling a little unsteady on her feet.
"Fine. FINE! I was worried. What's going on? Did I do something wrong?"
"No! Of course not. It-it's fine. I'm fine. I'm just sick. Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you tomorr-." She's struggling to get back up when she feels the air whoosh around her and realizes that Peeta has picked her up to carry her over to the couch.
"Sick? What's wrong? Have you taken anything? Let me make you some tea, or do you want soup? I can make soup." he's rambling as he presses the back of his hand to her clammy forehead.
"I really am okay. I got this. I'll be fine, Peeta." she says, pushing his hand away from her face and regretting it immediately at the loss of contact.
"Katniss. Please let me do this, okay? This is what you and I do, right? That's what you said. Now, tell me where you keep your bouillon. I'm making some chicken stock and a good soup for you."
That's when it hits Katniss. She hasn't really been taken care of like this in years. Maybe since she was 11.
For years now, her mother would do her best to take care of her during the occassional cold, of course. But for the most part Katniss struggled to accept any softness or warmth from her mother. Feeling caught between that desire to be held and comforted and the anger she still felt towards her - they instead both settled for the distant, clinical detachment her mother had with her other patients.
But, really, the last nearly 7 years of her life have been dedicated to the care of her family and her loved ones. She learned to stop asking for things and began instead to meet all of her own needs, without relying on others.
After the games she'd begun the process of extending that branch and allowing herself to lean on her mother a little more. But now? Now her mother isn't here. And here she was right back to what she knew. Taking care of herself.
Looking up at Peeta, blue eyes shining in earnest. Ready to do and be anything that is needed of him. Anything that SHE needs of him. She wipes her nose on her sleeve and smiles.
"Pantry. Top shelf. On the right. Thank you, Peeta."
#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#everlark#hunger games headcanon#thg headcanons#thg#thg series#the hunger games#thg fic#thg fanfiction#love is a verb#hunger games sick day
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Unwanted: Chapter 26, Unsurprising - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of miscarriage and aftermath, fluff.
Word Count: 1.1k
Previously On...: You and Bucky actually had a good talk.
A/N: Chapter 26 begins!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
You woke up early the next afternoon with your face feeling puffy and your body still sore, but not nearly in as much pain as you’d been in the night before. You’d only been in the hospital for a few hours in total, but it had felt like days. Glancing around, you realized Bucky must have tucked you into the bed in Sam’s bedroom after you’d fallen asleep on him last night. Well, Bucky’s bedroom, you supposed, now that he’d be taking over as your partner until Sam got back. You wondered where he had slept.
Hearing voices from the front of the apartment, you gingerly got up, tossing a sweatshirt Sam had left behind over your sleep clothes, and padded your way softly into the living room, noticing that Bucky must have been up half the night cleaning the mess you’d left behind, as there was no sign of any of your previous debauchery. Bucky was standing at the front door, waving off a couple of delivery men.
“Hey,” you said softly from behind him as he shut the door. Bucky turned around and gave you the once-over, as if he could assess your current state of mind from the sight of you alone.
“Hey,” he replied. “How’d you sleep?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright. You?”
Bucky exhaled a soft laugh. “Fine; couch is uncomfortable as hell.” There was an awkward silence, as though neither of you knew how to talk to the other any more.
“How are you feeling?” he asked eventually.
“Better,” you admitted. “Not nearly as sore. Kinda hungry.”
He looked at you, blue eyes scrutinizing. “I don’t mean physically, Pocket.”
“Oh.” You weren’t sure how to answer him, because the truth of it was, you didn’t know how you felt. You’d been in complete shock, and then you’d barely had a moment to process before exhaustion had overtaken you.
“It’s… it’s just been a lot, I guess,” you said. “I think it’s going to take me a while to process everything. I still don’t think I fully believe that all happened to me; feels like it happened to someone else.”
Bucky nodded and walked past you, toward the kitchen. “Come on,” he called to you over his shoulder. “You’ve got to be starving. I picked up some takeout while I was out.” In the kitchen, he reached into the oven and took out a few covered dishes he’d left in there to keep warm. “Wasn’t sure how long you were going to sleep,” he explained. “So I got some burgers and fries. That cool?”
Was that cool? Burgers and fries were your go-to comfort food, and it thawed your heart a little that he would remember. “Yeah, that’s cool,” you said, sitting down at the kitchen island. Bucky gently placed the containers with the still-warm food down, and you immediately began digging into your meal.
“Oh man,” you moaned sinfully as you let the flavor roll around on your tongue. “That’s a fucking good burger. Only thing that would make it better would be a–”
“Chocolate shake,” Bucky finished for you. He’d gone into the fridge and pulled out two large paper cups filled with the blended beverage. “You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”
You took the shake from him and lowered your face to hide behind your hair, not wanting him to see the pleased blush that was coloring your cheeks. “Thanks,” you murmured as you took a sip. It, too, was delicious.
“Don’t mention it, doll,” Bucky popped the lid off his shake and, quick as lightning, stole a fry from your plate, dunking it in the shake before bringing it to his mouth.
“Hey!” you chastised. “Don’t you have your own? No fair stealing mine!”
Bucky raised and dropped a shoulder. “Super soldier metabolism,” he said. “Need all those extra calories.”
You gave him a wry smile, and the two of you just looked at each other as you ate in companionable silence. For a minute, it felt like old times, as though the chasm that had divided you had never been opened, had never ripped the earth that stood between you, irrevocably separating you from one another.
“So,” you said, clearing your throat as though it could break the spell he had over you, “who were those guys?”
“Huh?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from yours as though it were physically difficult. “Oh, them. Yeah, uh, delivery guys.”
You furrowed a brow. “Delivery guys? You haven’t even been here twenty four hours, Barnes, and you’re already making decor changes?”
Bucky chuckled. “Please. You’ve seen my room at home. You think I’ve suddenly gotten into interior design over the last few weeks you’ve been gone?” You laughed at that. “While you were sleeping, I, uh, got the idea that it probably wouldn’t do you any good… seeing your bed with, you know…” He left it hanging, but you could easily fill in the blank– all that blood. “Tried to get it out with that hydrogen peroxide we got; just kinda ended up making more of a mess, so I figure I’d just order you a new mattress, so you’d–”
You left him in the kitchen as you stood up and walked back to your room. Sure enough, there was a brand new mattress laying across your bed frame, the plastic that had been covering it shoved into a garbage bag, along with what, you assumed, were your soiled bed clothes.
On the floor, over the spot where you’d collapsed, was a brand new throw rug.
“I made sure to check the tags on the old one,” Bucky said, coming up behind you to stand in the doorway, “so I could get the same exact kind. I, uh, didn’t want you havin’ trouble sleeping if the new one was too different, makin’ you uncomfortable.” He sounded timid, almost unsure of himself, as if he worried that he’d done the wrong thing. “And I tried to get everything outta the carpet, but, uh, there was still a stain, so… I figured a rug would work for now. ‘ll probably have to get the carpet replaced when we leave, if the cleaners can’t get everything out.”
Wordlessly, you turned and wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him in your gratitude. You weren’t sure what state you would have been in if you had had to deal with last night’s aftermath on your own. “Thank you,” you whispered, cheek pressed against his hard chest.
Your gratitude must have struck Bucky by surprise, because it was a moment before he was gingerly placing his hands around you to return your embrace, keeping them loose, as though wanting to ensure you he wasn’t trying to keep you in a cage. “Of course, sweets,” he murmured into the top of your head. You felt him place a gentle kiss into your hair. “Of course.”
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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stoic illiterate unwilling assassin deeply in love with unfailingly kind rich sad gay man almost stabs his crush's brother because the brother cares so much and so genuinely for the gay man that he searched assassin's room out of worry and found knives and a mysterious letter before being interrupted by the assassin who then does not want to show him the letter which seems incredibly suspicious, only for a later scene (after the gay man interrupts them and thus stops any escalation from happening) to quietly reveal that the very sus letter in possession of this illiterate assassin is not in fact a sign he's lying about being illiterate.... it's just two pages of him practicing the gay man's name over and over in neatly spaced lines...... a reveal which he was going to STAB a man over because he doesn't know that the gay man's brother knows the man is gay and loves him with his whole heart and would never ever do anything to hurt him........ i will never get over this, how could i ever get over this, everything else ever is going to be downhill from here
#yeah HI. if you are WONDERING. i am still being absolutely destroyed. utterly torn to pieces. smashed into a million happy little bits. by#to sir with love#it's not even the romance. though the romance is excellent and only getting better (and also hilarious. THE CHONBURI SCENES???)#but the siblings!!!! these brothers!!!!! everything in the world is trying to turn them against each other and every time i hold my breath#and every time!! without fail!!!! without hesitation even!!!!!! they go no. i love him and i trust him and he would never hurt me or i him.#and i CANNOT TELL YOU. how hard that's fucking me up. in the best of ways#it would be SO easy in a hiiiigh drama messy family show like this to go the easy route and just have the two sides of the family#actually fully at war with each other. or to have one of these brothers betray the other / let some misunderstanding fester#and 🤞🤞🤞 because i still have a good deal of show to go but so far. oh my goddddd. they choose each other. they choose each other always#anyway. if anyone reads this and is looking for some very high quality actually good soap melodrama. to sir with love is free on youtube
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Charles Leclerc smut
Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, moaning, thigh fucking
There was always one thing that always made you go head over heels for your boyfriend of 4 years. The sex. God, he was good. Too good.
You and Charles lived in the same home. After only a year of dating, the both of you knew that what you had was it. Charles had never felt this way for anyone else before and neither have you. Sometimes, you think about the first time you had sex with your boyfriend. It was magical. There was just something about the fact that since the start he'd always been so caring and delicate with your feelings and your body. You were crazy in love, and so was he.
"Hello ma chérie." Charles said, hugging you from behind, his hands placed on your belly. You could feel his warmth wrap around your body, heating you up. (my darling)
"Hi my love. How are you feeling today?" You looked up at him.
"I'm doing pretty good. You?" He asked as he held you closer to him and planted a kiss on your head.
"Me too. I missed you." You said.
"I missed you way more and you know that." He replied.
"How come?" You asked.
"Because of this." Charles placed your hand on his buldge, a shaky sigh coming out of his mouth as you touched him.
Charles had been away for 3 days because of business issues. For you, that had been the worst 3 days of your life. Not seeing Charles was something you absolutely hated and that went both ways for you two.
You smiled as he leaned over you and kissed you while standing behind you. He planted multiple kisses on your neck, giving you small hickeys. You moaned and closed your eyes as you clearly enjoyed him. You turned around to face him and kissed him even more. While playing with his hair and having a makeout session, Charles let out a moan. He picked you up and led you to the bedroom where all the magic would happen. Your boyfriend set you down slowly on the bed, making sure you didn't get hurt in any way possible. Charles took his shirt off. His skin was flushed red and you could see the buldge in his pants, which he took off shortly after you admired him. Charles joined you in bed.
His hands trailed all over your body, squeezing your thighs while taking your pieces of clothing off one by one and throwing them onto the floor. Your partner was on top of you. Your hands were wrapped around Charles' back as he kissed you and rubbed his cock along your thigh. He started fucking your thigh at a faster rate. You could already feel his pre-cum on your bare skin.
"Please Charles- just fuck me already. I can't wait any longer." You whined, pulling away from the kiss while holding eye contact.
"Okay, whatever you want mon amour." Charles answered, placing a strand of hair behind your ear and guiding his cock onto your wet folds. (my love)
Charles' breath was shaky and so was yours. Your nails entered deeper into his back as he got deeper into you. He was big, real big. He let you time to adjust before going in and out of you. You let out moans, which he found beautiful. He loved the feeling of your nails digging into his back as he made you feel like no one else could.
He took the time to make sure you were feeling well and that you were okay with continuing. You quickly nodded and bit your lip as he placed a hand on your breast while the other one rubbed your clit. That man knew what he was doing.
"I'm close- fuck Charles!" You screamed as he pumped in and out of your body.
"Me too (Y/N)- please cum for me. I need you." Charles said, almost reaching his orgasm. He moaned in your ear, calling you nicknames you loved. He told you how much he loves you and how he'll always be yours no matter what happens.
The both of you came at the same time. Charles stopped moving for a minute, taking the time to calm down and enjoy the moment. You were tired, and so was he. Charles softly lied down on you, his dick still inside of you. His head was rested on your breasts as you played with his hair.
He quickly fell asleep, his arms wrapped around you. You did too after giving him soft kisses on his head. You wrapped your arms around his neck and drifted off to sleep.
#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#f1 blurb#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1#fandom#fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1#formula one#romantic#romance#yn#x reader#x yn#cute#smut#sexy content#formula racing#love
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Bust the windows out your car
Part 1 - Traitor
Part 2- Take me back to the night we met
Part 3- You are here
EX Charles Leclerc x Singer Fem!reader
Summary: You publish a new album dedicated to your ex. And maybe let yourself get a little crazy.
Wc: 824
A/N: All the songs belong to their right full owners.
Tag list: @loloekie @callsignwidow
It had been a couple days since everything took place. There had been lots of breakdowns, calls from Charles, hating yourself and more break downs. There wasn't a day when Charles wouldn't text you. Messages were flowing in and you let them all read. You knew that if you spoke to him, you forget everything that happens the moment you see his green eyes. You jump right back into his arms.
Right now you were sitting on the couch, talking about your new album. "I don't know if it is a good idea," Pierre pointed out. "It is still illegaal and you probably have to pay for a new one." He had listened to your idea of shooting a video clip for your new single "Bust the window out of your car." Your idea was to go back to his apartment and look for his Ferrari in the garage. It would be great to let your anger out.
"I don't care about having to buy a new one. It is about sending a message and having a great clip for the single. He needs to know about the pain I go trough. This wasn't just some game for me. " Kika had cheered you on. She had gone with you to buy some baseball bats to hit the windows in. It was a red one to match the car and all of Charles's red flags.
You had written two songs about smashing his car. The other one was called 'Before you cheat'. You wanted to have prove by your lyrics.
The next day you found yourself back in Monaco. Everywhere you looked it reminded you of him. You knew Charles would be away at this time, still knowing his calendar by heart.
Walking inside the garage it didn't take long to spot the red Ferrari. Deep down it did hurt knowing your were going to ruin a piece of art, but it was the consequences he had to deal with. "There you are. I want to apolise for what is going to happen." You spoke to it like it understood you.
Pierre stood at the entrance looking out if no one was coming down stairs. He didn't like this. He knew that Charles wouldn't report you to the police, at least he hoped he wouldn't, that thought calmed him down a bit. But then Charles is also hurt. You never know what comes out of that.
The camera was pointing right at the car, which was gladly standing alone with no other cars around it. You didn't want to accidentally ruin someone else car.
Before you knew it you had hit in one of the windows and glass was flying everywhere. You grabbed one of your keys to leave a puncture in the tyre. Doing some poses on the hood of the red car and laying on top of it. You mounted the lyrics of the song pointing your head to the camera.
Time went by and you had all of the material you needed for the clip. The car was ruined, but he deserved it. He can afford a new one. Just like he can afford a new girlfriend. You look around hoping no one spotted you/ "Where is Pierre?" You ask as you cannot find him anymore. Kika looked at you with a pity face. "Charles was here. Pierre went after him. " Your eyes widens at the mention of Charles. He was here? He didn't stop you? Kika shrugs her shoulders as if she knew what you were thinking. "Don't pay attention to him." You gathered up your stuff and left behind all the pieces of your broken heart.
Y/N!L/N: New album out!!!! Stream ' Sixteen' on all platforms.
Y/N!L/N
I want to thank to people who helped me get trough a hard time. I love you all.<3
-----
KiKaGomez: 🩷🩷🩷
KikaGomez: Absolute great music as always
-> Y/N!L/N: Thank you, gorgeous
Pierregasly: bonne musique, Y/n
-> Y/N!L/N: Merci Beaucoup Pierre
LoveYn: Mother is mothering
ILoveYN: Did anyone see that video clip by "bust the window out your cars??????????????????
-> f1b1tch: Yess, it looks a lot like his own car
-> carsf1: She ruined a ferarri
Totwolfflove: Charles is in the likes
-> Slutforyn: This is not a drill
SlayYn: Finally, new song. I love them all
F1Yn: Did they really break uo??
-> ClYn: I think. Pretty sure the album is about Charles and it are not nice songs.
-> F1addict: He is still in the likes
MaxVerstappen1: great album
-> User729: Max?????
-> mvetcl: Arianna, what are you doing here?
-> Y/N!LN: Thank you Max
Charlesleclerc: ❤️
-> User92: The audacity this man has
->ynlovw: Delulu much
-> Pierregasly: Mate, wtf
-> F1yn: Even Pierre is confused
Do you want another part?
#Charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc 16#charles leclerc x reader#f1#formula 1#charles leclerc imagine#pierre gasly#kika gomes
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HI OMG i just read all your stuff and theyre so GOOD AGHH!;!3)2):&;&??? and for any requests how about another docile!simon because hes SOO CUTE IM IN LOOVEE or a childhood!best friend 😮💨😮💨
crying and throwing up bc AHH
tysm omg..
it's giving I should do both of these
Childhood bestfriend!Simon (who's a docile soul) x Reader.
a/n: major fluff ❤️
what was a661 listening to? (Homesick by Noah Kahan, Sugar Sweet by Benson Boone, Young Blood by Noah Kahan, Like Real People Do by Hoizer)
Unedited and not proofread
Simon and you go way back, and I mean way back. You knew this boy since he learned how to tie his shoe. (Unsurprisingly you had to teach him because what the heck are you doing to the laces?)
You lived slightly south of Manchester, and only really saw Simon when your parents met up every month or so, but you and Simon were essentially locked at the hip when you two were around each other. Pinkies bound together as you walked around the pond, watching the swans swim in the water. His smile was always so.. Soft. Never a big, excited smile. One where you knew he was comfortable.
His older brother always scoffed at the two of you, opting to stick by his parents and yours as they sat on a bench, as they talked amongst themself. Simon Unhooked his pinkie from yours as he bent by a few rocks, looking through them.
"Hey, come 'ere." He gestured you over. You crouched next to him. He picked a few weed flowers, and plopped on the ground to tie the bottoms together. When he was done, he handed them to you.
"There! For you. They're really pretty." He smiled softly, as you took them. You laughed quietly, and hugged him.
"Thank you, Si." You said quietly, before pecking his cheek. You heard your mom yell at you to get your hands off eachother, as you two are only 8 and 10.
You two separate, and walk back over to your parents. Simon had a pink hue to his cheeks, but nothing he couldn't not excuse as sunburn.
Once you got in your rickety car back to your house, it's not like you knew you'd never see him again. You were packed and already on the plane 3 weeks later.
The absolute meltdown you had in the airport had your mom threatening to ductape your mouth shut, and you're pretty sure you cried all the way to America.
-
You lift your head, noticing your spot in line has moved up, again. You shift forward, a basket of food in your arms. You got your own places little over a year ago. Freedom feels.. Great, actually, nobody is on your ass and you can freely drive anywhere without a 'where tf are you??' text.
You get to the register, and give a polite nod and 'I'm good, and you?' Your accent still catches a few people off guard. Fucking hell, this state is absolute shit sometimes. Just because some people aren't the same as you, you don't gotta be weird about it-
It's not even like it's heavy, it's just slightly there. Growing up with the most British parents in a very not British town has got your accent all odd, but if anyone from Manchester heard you, they might be able to decipher you.
You take your bags and walk to your car, loading it. Just one more thing in the list... Ah, the pet shop. The place isn't far, so you lock your car and start your walk on the way there.
A few Military officers stand a block away, across the street. They don't look quite American, in all actuality, isn't that the flag from-
You abruptly run into someone. Fuck. God, why don't you keep your eyes open every once in a while? You take a step back, rubbing your nose. Crap, they had a hard fucking chest, because your nose feels half broken.
"My bad, I'm so sorry-" You glance up to notice an military officer. You stand straighter, noticing the Union Jack flag. The guy has gear on, and a.. Ghost mask? A bavaclava, I'm pretty sure, and some eye black.
"It's.." He squints, pausing, before continuing, "Fine. It's fine."
That's an accent if you've heard one. God, it's familiar as crap, you know you've heard it before. Which parents had that accent again? Sounds like.. Jack's parents were more west...
"You uh.. You from here?" He gruffly asks, "Can tell you got an accent."
You shake your head, "I was born in Manchester, moved when I was 8, give or take."
His eyes widen this time, before cursing. He turns to the group of men further down, and throws a hand signal. They nod, and continued a conversation they were having.
"Oh? I had a friand who uh.. Who.." He hesitated, but he slipped off his mask.
"Who did that too."
You stared doe eyed at him. "Simon?"
That blonde hair is impossible to forget. You choke on a laugh, before grabbing his face. His nose is definitely different, but it looks like shits been broken.
"Holy shit, it's you." He smiled. Fucking hell, his smile.
"Jesus! What're you doing here, I mean- I-I never thought we'd-" You cut yourself off with a laugh, before hugging him tightly, your hands curling into his hair. He swiftly hugged back, rocking you softly. Goddammit, he looks good.
Good, good.
"Oh lovie, you can't understand how happy I am, I remember how you left and.." He stares at you quietly, and frowned. "Never really made another friend like you again."
That made you frown, "Si, you should've made friends! I was just the example!" You throw in a smile, to show him your joking.
You both find yourself laughing together, your hands back on his cheek, his hands on your hips. And.. Some reason naturally, you drifted closer and.. Kissed. Neither of you hesitated, it was swift and you kept his head against yours, and you made sure the kiss was good.
He was good.
You both pulled away, a soft look shared among you too.
"Are we gonna brush past that, or.." He laughed, and hugged you again, swinging you around once. You yelped, and hit his shoulder.
"Put me down!!" You squealed, laughing.
Price glanced over to the two of you, Soap turning as well.
"Tha' there mus' be tha' Bonnie he mentions," Soap nods slightly, smiling for his friend.
"Sure is. I knew he'd take this mission cuz' o' her." Price chuckled softly.
You carded through his hair softly, looking in his eyes.
"I missed you, Si."
AHH THE IINSPO FOR THIS HAD ME SENT WRITING THIS.
Never seen something like this so I feel accomplished not having a clue how to keep going.
TYSM FOR THE SUPPORT!!
Request to get more fun stories like this!
Bye babes!
-a661
#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon riley x you#simon fluff#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#ghost x you#ghost x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost fluff#simon riley call of duty#call of duty x reader#ghost call of duty#mw2 ghost#a66-1 asks
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AND THEN THERE WERE THREE…
NOTES — just saw challengers today and absolutely needed to write smth for these two! only used a gif of art because theres none of the two of them and almost none for patrick </3, i’m a little rusty with smut so bare with me
WARNINGS — 18+ content mdni, slight challengers 2024 spoilers, fem!reader, kinda dom!art, pure smut/little plot, art/patrick interactions, talk of previous art/patrick sexual encounters, spit play, oral (m receiving), tit sucking, dirty talk, mentions of anal, little bit of aftercare, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!
REQUEST — Pls write a smut fic with reader and Art fucking in the hotel room (with Patrick watching) and reader asking if Patrick can join them and ofc Art can’t say no because he finds the idea of this super hot. Maybe reader makes Art and Patrick make out like in the movie 👀
WORD COUNT — 1.6k
join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post
None of you were too sure how exactly this had started. You, Art, and Patrick had stumbled back into their hotel room after leaving the beach, each of you finding your own place to sit after Patrick opened up a beer, took a swig, and passed the can to you. You’d taken a seat closer to Art, having naturally gravitated towards him more so than Patrick. And quickly, you and Art were making out, leaving Patrick to watch.
You blamed the beer. And the fact that you found both Art and Patrick incredibly hot. One minute you’re at a party, dedicated to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, and the next you’re sitting on the beach being invited back to the guys’ hotel room, and the next after that, Art is stripping you of your clothes while Patrick takes a seat leaned up against the wall opposite the foot of the bed.
“Can I-” He begins, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, desperation clear in his eyes. At your nod, Art quickly yanks your shirt over your head and immediately pulls your body flush against his. He’s planting soft, wet kisses up and down your neck as his fingers work the back of your bra. His eyes widen the moment it drops to the ground.
Giving you a moment's glance he quickly sucks one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting. Feeling as though he’s neglected the other one, he pinches and tugs on the opposite nipple, smiling around the one in his mouth at the moans you let out.
“Yeah, baby? You like this? Me with your tits in my mouth and my best friend jerking off while watching us?”
For a moment, you’d forgotten about Patrick. Your eyes shoot open, landing on him instantly. The sight of him, slouched against the wall, his hand already wrapped around his cock, with his eyes fixated on both you and Art. He looked so hot, you weren’t sure how you’d forgotten that he was even there.
“Mhm, ‘s hot.” you admitted, turning Arts face back to you, tugging his bottom lip back into your mouth. The blond pushes you back onto the beds that were pushed together - Patrick’s idea if anyone were to ask - and begins kissing up your stomach only stopping long enough to kiss each of your nipples. He grabs your face, pushing his fingers into your cheeks, making you open your mouth, before letting a large glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours.
“Swallow.” He smiles when you do so without complaint, even going as far as to look as if you wanted him to do it again.
Patrick moans at that, louder than before. Sure he and Art had messed around before, when they were both single and bored and needed a good fuck, that wasn’t new, but hearing that commanding tone in the blonds voice sent a shiver down his spine.
“God, that was hot.” Patrick sighs, laughing when Art gives him the finger.
“Fuck off, Patrick.” Both of them know he doesn’t mean it, if he wasn’t wanted there, you or Art would’ve said something, but you didn’t. whether Art knew it or not, both you and he wanted him to stay, and keep watching.
At some point during that interaction, you weren’t sure when exactly, Art had shed his pants and underwear. He was dragging the tip up and down your slit, up and down, stopping every few seconds to slap your clit with it. When your eyes finally landed on his length, it made your jaw drop. He was big, bigger than you’d seen before, he was long and girthy with veins running along the bottom of it.
He slowly slides into you, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. He’d never seen anyone look so angelic. The closest comparison he could make was how Patrick looked when he’d first given him a blow job. He wouldn’t call the look on Patrick's face angelic perse, but it was hot, really hot. The reminder of that, and the way you’ve begun clenching around him, spurs him into you. His hips snapping into yours, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. It was unlike anything either of you had felt before.
I want him to join.
You weren’t sure that the words had actually left your mouth until the blond on top of you stopped his thrusts, looking into your eyes for a moment.
“That what you want, baby?” He murmurs, kissing sloppily up and down your neck, shivers running through your entire body at his touch. His fingers falling to your clit, flicking at it. The pleasure was almost enough to make you forget that he’d even asked a question.
Almost.
“Please,” Even in your fucked out state, you couldn’t help but want more.
“Come on, Zweig. You heard her.” Patrick grins, hopping to his feet, although slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do. But his nerves dissolved the moment Art turned around, and gave him that look, one that he knew meant that everything would be okay. It meant that he just needed to get over himself and have a good time, everything would work out. After that he’s on the move towards you, giving Art a harsh slap to the ass as he goes past him, laughing when Art swats back at him.
Patrick all but flies onto the bed, having kicked his underwear off the moment he stood up, and his shirt is long gone, a mix of yours, his, and Arts clothes are scattered around the hotel room, sure to have lost at least one thing. But none of you had it in you to care, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth opens before he’s even fully on the bed, but he gets the message, quickly positioning his tip in front of your mouth, thrusting a few times before losing control and fucking your throat.
The three of you move in tandem for minutes, or maybe it was hours, Art would thrust into you, rubbing your clit with his fingers, while Patrick would be pulling himself out of your mouth at the same time. It felt as though this was a regular occurrence, as though it were normal. And god did you hope it would become a normal thing. The three of you, together, making each other feel good.
Tapping Patricks thigh lightly, you hum happily when he pulls out of your mouth, giggling at how quickly he begins to check and make sure you’re okay.
“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The words come out of his mouth at lightning speed and it’s difficult for you to understand, but Art had and his thrusts slowed to a stop, hands leaving your body, giving you a questioning look as if repeating everything his friend had just said.
“I’m fine baby,” And then you say something neither of them could quite hear.
“Gotta speak up for us, sweetheart. Can’t do what you want us to do otherwise.” That comes from Patrick, Art nodding along with him.
“Want you two to kiss.” The words fly out of your lips and you’re suddenly shy, pressing your face into Patricks thigh, nipping at it softly.
Both men smirk at you before making eye contact with each other, giving a subtle nod.
“Well c’mon man, you know how I like it.”
The combination of Arts words, his sudden thrusts and Patrick taking it upon himself to flick at your clit, push you over the edge. The power of your orgasm makes your legs shake, your mind empty of anything this isn’t you, Patrick, or Art.
They’re still kissing, it’s all teeth and tongue and spit. It’s messy, and it only stops long enough for Arts mouth to fall open, moans spilling out as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of his come flooding your insides, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock as he fucks you through both of your orgasms.
At this point, Patrick has taken a step back, and is watching again. He’s stroking himself with one hand, squeezing just right and out of nowhere, Art reaches out, cupping the dark haired man's balls, tugging and rubbing on them just the way Patrick likes. The added pleasure sends him crashing over the edge, he barely has the time to move and aim his cum to where you and Art are connected, spilling himself all over your cunt and Arts cock.
Art pulls out and the three of you fall into a pile of heavy breathing, sweat, spit, and cum on the beds pushed into the middle of the room. Once you all catch your breath, Patrick is the first to speak.
“Wow.” It was simple, but it made you all burst out laughing.
“Wow, indeed.” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his pec, turning to do the same to Art.
“That was fucking hot.” Arts words make you all giggle yet again.
“Okay,” Patrick leans you into Art and pushes himself off of the bed, “‘m gonna get you two cleaned up, be right back.” He reassures you, hearing you whine at losing his presence. He comes back with a warm washcloth in hand, and a small cup of water in his other. He hands the water to Art motioning for him to take a drink and then give you some as well, while he bends at the waist, resting his knees on the floor and taking the cloth to your core, cleaning you as gently as he could before moving onto Art. Tossing the cloth to the corner of the room he pulls both you and Art into his embrace, enjoying the quiet for a moment before you break the silence.
“Round two? Whoever makes me cum harder gets to fuck me here first.” You smile slyly, placing your hand on your ass, giggling when Patrick snatches you from Arts hold, muttering something about how he ‘got you first last time and that it’s his turn now.’
#challengers#art donaldson#patrick zweig#challengers x reader#challengers imagine#challengers smut#challengers x you#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson smut#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig imagine#patrick zweig smut#mike faist x reader#mike faist smut#josh o’connor x reader#josh o’connor smut#dividers by cafekitsune
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