#not that I don't have empathy for what he's going through or that I can't understand his motivations for the actions he takes
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Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like
-💀
It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.
If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.
Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.
He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...
#this is less headcanons and more my thoughts of the intersectional horror this brings to mouthwashing which is also a thing it#already has but more directly in the mix vs just the class gender and positional struggle. like the idea he waited to confront Jimmy becaus#he could conceptualize the crime better because of experience with womanhood and also how it would've destroyed him in terms of being trans#like its weird to word as a comparison but thats kinda how empathy works as in an understanding and ability to project through aspects#like you found out your friend who has always had weird feelings about and relating to you is a rapist and got one of your other friend#pregnant and is now being openly hostile and aggressive towards you. You have only a few days to really think on all of this all the years#with him and how many oppurtunites he had that you blame yourself for giving him both in life and to do to you. You are starting to#realize that he may have done what he did to Anya because it was no longer viable with him or because of weird transphobia/homophobia#from Jimmy and god its so much and he should've know better and what did Jimmy do then - c r a s h#he is at such a small amount of mercy to Jimmy now and he can't protect Anya and it's terrifying because i know and you know that Jimmy is#giving him those weird looks again...#like it adds another layer of horror to things and while I don't think Jimmy would do anything to Curly it's heavily implied he targeted he#because of relatively more important position and getting Curly to have doubts about him as a power play and Curly knows Jimmy well enough#that him immediately exerting his authority and power would set him off after already having been mad about it and even when doing#damage control it still set him off. like its the horror of accidenlty siding with your oppresser and hurting other like you only to then b#stabbed in the back again by the person who took advantage of your nature like its so complext but my actual trans curly headcanons#are just a little bit happier like i imagine he was the first on the boys soccer team and a star player. maybe he and jimmy even picked ou#his first offical “boy” clothes and Jimmy picked most so he looked like the grungiest white boy but she was a boy so it didn't matter cause#it was with his friend who accepted him and I bet on the bed he looks back at all those moments and notices the little details that his#friend wasnt actually so happy but he can't be certain when he started looking so bitter or hes just imagining out of paranoia cause he jus#cant know and even if he could he wouldn't want to ask like god thinking about Anya and probably being a little glad if not heartbroken#that she did get out of it in the end like trans curly and anya destroy me even more its so upsetting like he didn't realize how much he go#you girl and waited to act like it was cowardice but then would she not realize what hes realizing? should that be a grace or more of a#condemnation in her mind like what are her thoughts? espically during the scene Jimmy hits Curly like she had to hear and what did she thin#they are tormented in a similar hells with the same demon and its fascinating#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#anya mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing
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so like it’s 1999 and solid snake is in zanzibar land and gray fox tells you that all he can do is fight. it’s all he has and it’s probably all you’re ever going to have, too, because deep down you know your father is right, you know he is right as you click the lighter and burn the flesh off his skin, you know he is right when he tells you, this will never go away. i am always going to be a part of you. it’s 2005 and solid snake is in shadow moses island, alaska and gray fox tells you that’s good, snake. hit me harder. do it more. that’s good. when you meet meryl you kill the guards, and then snake thinks he loves her, so you kill psycho mantis for her, ocelot tortures you and you withstand it for her, you beat liquid to a pulp for her and while his blood is on your fists he smiles and tells you that you two, you’ll always be the same. gray fox means violence means meryl means violence, so what’s love if not that? what is it if not the feeling of broken bones under your knuckles, if not the smell of your father’s burnt flesh? but she's too young, she doesn’t understand you and she couldn’t if she tried, because she’s eighteen years old and doesn’t know any better and doesn’t understand that after you sleep with her you’re going to get up and let the pillow grow cold, she thinks you’ll tell her everything and when you don’t, because you can’t, she’ll leave you. you kill him with your fists and for her you destroy shadow moses and you hear him say to you again that’s good, snake, that feels good, do it harder. but it isn’t a coincidence that in mgs1 you meet otacon at the same time you meet gray fox. otacon who is so scared of battle he pisses his pants and otacon who cries over a woman who could never love him back and otacon who thinks good people like dogs, kind people like dogs, otacon who passed you a meal, ready-to-eat and a bottle of ketchup across the bars of your cell and when you ask him why the fuck are you here if you cant help me he says to you, i thought you might be hungry. otacon who gives you her handkerchief that was once her mother's and will be hers once again when she dies, when you rest it atop her glazed-over irises, a cycle of love. she was a good person, snake, and so are you. she liked the wolves and you do too. otacon who cries over his baby sister’s little body, who blames himself for being seventeen years old under the touch of the woman who should have been his mother. otacon who when it's 2014 will make you the solid eye and the octocamo suit and the mk. ii to keep you safe and say to you, don't hurt anyone, snake. will say to you: i'll follow you wherever you go, like this. otacon who blubbers like a baby and cries too much and who, when it's 2009 in new york city, you have to say to, go rescue the hostages, because if you don’t he’s going to crumple in on himself, a dying star. this is how you love, you don’t say to him, and how i love, because you showed me how. wrap your arms around his shoulders and hope it’s enough.
#do you guys get it do u understand what im trying to say.#i am so. taken by 'i thought you might be hungry' because#EVERY SINGLE person who is significant to snake is defined by conflict and violence#then enter otacon. civillian. camouflages himself out of fear. shows snake care through this action. can't do anything really#but he can make sure he eats.#otacon who can't open up about himself because he doesn't know what he's feeling. just like snake#the understanding and empathy in 'you don't have to explain'#snake who is seen as disposable by his mission overseers but not by otacon#'go rescue the hostages' grounds otacon. gives him something to do. keeps him from falling apart#'that's enough crying' after sniper wolf in mgs1 versus the hug in mgs2#words aren't going to fix things. but i can show you how much i care#AM I MAKING SENSE???????????????#they will never say i love you to each other but they can make sure the other feels it. all the time#theyre so you held me the whole way through but i couldn't say the words like you.....i swear guys...i swear..................#just finished mgs4 liquid sun this game i MIGHT have a meltdown when i finish the game but for now. soldiering on!#ok im done#mgs#otasune#myne#mywrites
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Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?
And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!
Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???
JUST SOME DUDE™!
Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?
On the SURFACE!
This place seems utopian!
No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!
Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!
Cause see?
There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?
Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)
Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.
Through the Zone.
Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.
They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?
And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!
If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.
No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.
Just? Imagine~☆
The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"
Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.
He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.
They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏
I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.
As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.
I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.
He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.
And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.
Either, Or.
I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.
There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!
@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation
#dpxdc#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#dpxbnha#dp x bnha#dp x mha#dpxmha#minji's writing#dp prompt#dp x bnha prompt
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FUCKED UP BEETLE
PROBLEM
So you're having a totally fine day by all accounts and then it instantly goes to shit just because you pass by a fucked up beetle hidden in the grass. You've seen bugs dead all the time, so what. So what if its torn up wings and cracked shell definitely mean that some random kids fucked it up before it died. So what if your dad was drunk and high all the time and screamed at you and you fucked C over and you fuck everything up. SO WHAT. No amount of therapy or 'healthy coping mechanisms' or 'unpacking of trauma' will ever erase the ultimate truth underneath. You are intrinsically, hopelessly fucked.
-3 Volition: Fucked in the head
SOLUTION
You're going to wake up the next morning totally fine again. In fact, Harry's probably going to put some extra effort into making breakfast nice to cheer you up--which will actually kind of annoy you, but in a way that makes you feel all fuzzy and warm. Sure, you still get stuck in your head sometimes about sad shit, but you're dealing with it better and better, and the days where you actually feel like someone are beginning to far outnumber the days you don't. For now, you hug him a little bit tighter. You're safe now.
-1 Composure: Permanently a little bit fucked
+2 Volition: You're going to be okay
_
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VARIOUS CANDY WRAPPERS SPLAYED OUT ON THE TABLE: The label reads 'BLUE DREAM'. Unlike what its colour may suggest, it is not flavoured a blueberry or bubblegum, but vanilla.
[A red orb appears above Harry's head]
SHIVERS [Impossible: Success] - The air has been shifted ever so slightly. He's trying to breathe correctly, but blurs of thought keep flickering through his mind. This continued for the entire thirteen minute trek home.
PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] - A loud thunk rattles across the room as Cuno closes the door, he looks out of breath
EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - He's barely holding it together
CUNO - He looks up at you with a yelp, "Fuckin hell! Wasn't the pig supposed to be out investigating some shit?"
SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] - He didn't want you seeing him like this, answer his question, he'll leave if you ask him about it first.
1. "Did something happen?"
2. "You look like you ran a damn marathon kid, what's up?"
3. "I had to quickly come back to snag some important evidence for the case" (point to various candy wrappers)
CUNO - He scrunches his brow "That mean you're getting your ass outta Cuno's face soon?"
DRAMA [Easy: Fail] - Wow. He didn't even ask about the wrappers!
EMPATHY [Difficult: Success] - He doesn't want to be alone
1. "Did something happen?"
PERCEPTION [Difficult: Fail] - Cuno's hands tremble as he mumbles out a whisper of words you can't make out
1. Cuno?
[Harry reaches out to comfort him, but Cuno sees this and snaps at him]
CUNO - "NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED ALRIGHT? THINGS HAVE BEEN FUUUCKIN PEACHY TODAY"
"CUNO GOT A FUCKIN A ON HIS ESSAY, ABSOLUTELY WENT DOWN ON A DELICIOUS FUCKIN KEBAB YA HEAR?
CUNO - He pauses. "Nothin fuckin happened today. It's all me. Cuno's the one thats all fucked up"
He starts choking up by the end of that,
(a yellow orb is seen above Harry's head as he looks at cuno breaking down [it's reaction speed])
Harry hugs him
CUNO - "Fuck"
KUUNO - He hugs back tightly
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"i just don't understaaaand," you slurred, hiccuping between the words. "why wasn't i, hic, enouuugh?"
the night was a haze of tears and drunken laughter as you vented your frustrations and heartbreak to suguru, ever the supportive best friend, stayed by your side. he listened intently whilst you nursed the sting of your recent breakup with a bottle of whiskey.
suguru sighed, purple eyes filled with empathy and eyebrows furrowed in remorse. "you’re enough and it's his loss, honestly. he didn't deserve you."
you took another swig of the whiskey, feeling the burn slide down your throat. suguru watched with concern as you took another, another, and another other until he gently took the bottle from your hand.
"hey, enough. that’s enough," he said softly, placing the bottle out of your reach. "you've had too much already."
you pouted, leaning against him heavily. "i can, hic, handle it! just one more drink, pleeaaase . .” granting him your doe eyes, believing that this appeal would make him yield. “suuuguuruuuu . . .”
"don’t ‘suguruu’ me," your best friend replied firmly. "nope. i'm cutting you off."
your eyes narrowed in engaging determination as you tried to reach past him for the bottle. he placed it further away on the table, just out of your grasp. you leaned forward, stretching your arm as far as you could, your fingertips just brushing the bottle's neck.
"come onnnn, suguruuu," your whining didn’t stop, every sentence was slurred and pleading. "justt one, one more sip. i swear!”
he shook his head, "you're going to regret this in the morning."
ignoring his warning, you leaned further, almost losing your balance as you reached for the bottle again. your body pressed against his as you stretched, your fingers just barely touching the bottle's edge before it slipped further out of reach.
when your fingers lightly grazed his hand while reaching for the bottle, he felt a flutter of nerves ripple through him. the casual touch of your skin against his sent a warmth spreading through his chest, making his heart beat just a little faster. he tried to act normal, keeping his breaths steady and his expressions neutral, but the truth was, he relished those moments more than he would ever admit, even if it was merely your skin grazing his. oh, how much he was longing for every piece of you. the proximity was intoxicating, and every time you leaned in closer, the guy found it harder to keep his emotions in check.
were you supposed to feel this way for your own best friend?
geto suguru forever questioned himself.
"suguruu, pleasee," you begged for the nth time this minute. he gulped, his resolve wavering slightly. but when you tried again, practically climbing over him in your attempt to grab the bottle, he gently but firmly pulled you back.
"okay, that's enough," he said, voice a little more stern. "you're going to hurt yourself."
you huffed in frustration, slumping back against the couch. "hmph, fine," you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest.
suguru watched you for a moment, his eyes softening. he hated seeing you like this, no, he hated feeling like this. it’s miserable, his heart ached to comfort you, to hold you close and tell you everything would be okay, but he knew that his own emotions were a mess of longing and guilt. the more he tried to push his feelings aside, the stronger they seemed to become.
suguru felt trapped, his heart caught between wanting to be there for you as a friend and struggling with the intense feeling he felt for you. with a resigned sigh, he picked up the bottle and took a long drink himself, grimacing as the alcohol burned down his throat. it was still half full, but he drank it all in one go.
"there," he said, wiping his mouth, slightly grinning. "now you can't have any more."
“noooo!” you panicked, a little too loudly, and playfully grabbing his shoulders back and forth. "that was, hic, still mineee!”
he chuckled, the alcohol already making his head swim. "hmm that's what friends are for."
a comfortable silence settled between you two. now the room was spinning slightly from the alcohol, and the world felt a little softer, a little more forgiving. you looked up at suguru, noticing how close his face was to yours. his eyes were dark and filled with something you couldn't quite place.
just then, suguru leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. he could swear it was the alcohol, it wasn’t him. you froze for a moment, your mind clouded by the booze, and then you kissed him back. the world seemed to blur around you as the kiss deepened, both of you lost in the moment.
suguru’s lips were unexpectedly warm and soft against yours, and the moment they touched, the world seemed to fade away. the sorrow of your breakup, the weight of your heartache, all vanished in an instant. your ex was a distant memory, a shadow that no longer held any power over you. instead, all you could think about was suguru; way he had always been there for you, the way he had listened and comforted you without expecting anything in return. his touch, his presence, felt like where you should have been all along.
this time, you realized, with a sudden clarity, that suguru was the one who had always stayed by your side. it was him who cared for you, who truly understood you in a way no one else ever had.
his hand cupped your face tenderly, his thumb brushing away the last remnants of your tears. suddenly you felt sober again, under no influence besides the whole situation. in that instant, everything seemed to make sense. the pieces of your shattered heart were slowly mending, guided by the warmth of suguru’s affection. as you pulled back slightly to catch your breath, you looked into his eyes and saw a reflection of your own emotions; love, longing, and a deep, abiding connection that had always been there, just waiting to be discovered.
“suguru . .” you whispered.
“i’ve always been here,” he said quietly, his breath mingling with yours. “and i always will be.”
“so please, look at me this one time.”
n. tagging @sugulani cz i promised ya <3 (ITS NOT STONER SUGURU BUT SURPRISEE! i will write dat anotha time 🙂↕️)
@uzurakis
#.writing#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk fanfic#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto x you#geto fluff#getou suguru x reader#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto x y/n#geto suguru#suguru x you#suguru x y/n#suguru x reader#jjk suguru#getou suguru x you#getou suguru x y/n#jujutsu kaisen suguru#suguru geto smut#geto smut
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Thinking about this again. Even #62 is easy enough to explain without needing to lean into machiavellian levels of convoluted manipulations to explain Tim's actions.
Like, if I had a place that had been a safe haven for me since I was a child where I could go to calm down and collect myself after really bad episodes and then some moron who'd been harassing me into going out to deeply traumatic locations from my childhood and who also had been stalking me through my personal life for months and posting all that footage online -- not just information about where I live and go to the doctor but also more traumatic things that happened to me that I can't even remember happening -- and also who had just doxxed me not even a month ago then followed me out there with his camera on so that he could film me "acting crazy" again and then post that footage publicly for his followers to continue to gawk at I would also probably attempt to throttle him. I think the key to unlocking Tim's character is to understand that Jay sucks.
a lot of people seem to use Entry #61 as 'proof' for the crux of the "Brian didn't care about Tim, he was Taking Advantage of Tim's conditions and Forcing him to work as part of totheark" thing, but honestly when you think about it there's no possible way Brian could have possibly orchestrated that series of events, like you almost have to interpret that as a baffling group of coincidences
#N posts stuff#mh lb#Tim does not know SHIT about the Operator at this point in the timeline and even though he's seen Jay's channel it is Extremely#likely that he would think 'Jay is making this up for internet views and using my Real Life as a prop for his content' before he'd think#'well obviously that thing is real. and so is all the rest of it' <- there's NO way he'd come to that conclusion before the former#his actions After the fact could be anything from 'he's lying to Jay about not remembering' to 'Operator encounter' to#'he wasn't the one fronting that night'. side note: i want to know where he was keeping his mask and jacket bc he wasn't wearing#either when he left that night. does he keep them in the park?#anyway sorry Jay but if I met you in real life I would also try to kill you with a rock and I'd be right to do it.#not that I don't have empathy for what he's going through or that I can't understand his motivations for the actions he takes#it's just that his chosen coping mechanism is the manifestation of a years long terror of mine and so i also fucking hate him a little#sorry guy I know the narrative wouldn't have existed without you but alas </3 Tim was right to strangle you
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Oh my god thank you for writing for Axel, if you're willing please can we have more of him :).
𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑦: 𝐴𝑥𝑒𝑙 𝐾𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑐
𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠
»»——⍟——««
»»——⍟——««
𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐴𝑥𝑒𝑙 𝐾𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑐 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (established relationship!)
𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡
𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑘𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑. 𝑃𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛'𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛. 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐴𝑥𝑒𝑙 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢, ℎ𝑒'𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢.
𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑐𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑌/𝑛, 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑚, 𝑝𝑒𝑡 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠.
◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆
"I don't get it. Why did the Sekai Taikai allow females to be captains. They don't even work hard." A nearby boy in the hotel lobby said while having a conversation with his friend. "They probably just flash their boobs to their sensei to get the spot." His friend shrugged.
Disgust overwhelmed you, along with insecurity. You scoffed and pushed past the childish boys, walking to your team, the Iron Dragons. Axel noticed your anger and raised a brow. "Are you okay love?" Not bothering to face him, you responded. "Yeah, just some foolish guys." He nodded with a soft smile and grabbed your hand to ease your nerves.
"Get it together Y/n. You can't be losing to these other dojos." Sensei wolf sternly stated with his arms crossed over each other. "I apologize, sensei." You bowed. Axel looked at you with empathy. He always noticed how Sensei Wolf was hard on you. Yes, he was harsh on him but he was far worse with you.
He remembered the days when you came to his house, crying because Sensei Wolf had beaten the living daylight out of you.
"Go get ready for training." Sensei wolf grunted and motioned for you to move. Axel, who was getting ready to change out to train with you, was stopped. "Not you Axel, Y/n." You reluctantly let go of Axel's hand and sighed, walking away to your hotel room. "Why just her? Can't I train too?!" Axel responded, losing his cool. "She needs it more than you do." Wolf glared at his student.
"If I recall correctly, Y/n's a better fighter than I am. So I should be training, not her. Give her a break!" Axel yelled at his trainer. His anger was raising through the roof, and everyone in the hotel lobby had turned to see what the commotion was. "Kovacevic!" Wolf screamed back. "I will not be having this! Go to you designated room at once! You're lucky I'm not training you right now!" Scoffing, Axel walked away and towards the elevator to go to his room.
Except, he didn't go to his room, he went to yours. Knock, Knock. "Y/n?" He talked through the wooden door. You sniffled and quickly wiped your tears away from your watery eyes. The door opened with a soft creak and your eyes met with Axel's worried ones.
"Oh love..." He softly said, cupping your face when he noticed your puffy and tear stained cheeks. "I'm fine." Your voice shaky when you responded to his worried tone. "You're not and that's okay. You should be upset." Tears spilled from your eyes as you sat on the soft white hotel bed.
"You don't understand." Axel grabbed your hand and made a spot for himself by your side. "Then explain it to me, hm?" He hummed and caressed your hair. Sighing, you cleared your throat to explain. "No matter how hard I work, I will always be overshadowed by men. I can work until the brink of death but there will be a man who says I didn't work hard enough."
"Everyone in our dojo knows that I'm the best student but Sensei Wolf refuses to acknowledge that and says your the best student." You continued. "I have to work twice as hard if I have to beat a man. It's as if men are scared and insecure that I can do something they can." You frowned and looked up at Axel.
"Baby, I have no idea how you're feeling right now. But I will tell you that you need to walk out of this tournament, scaring every boy, not man, because no man would be afraid of a woman winning. I need you walking out of this tournament with your head held high and showing how you are the best." He smiled, kissing your head.
"I will be right here to support you..." He whispered in you ear.
"Always."
#cobra kai#cobra kai x reader#karate kid#karatekidxreader#miguel diaz#robby keene#daniel larusso#kwon cobra kai#johnny lawrence#kwon jae sung#kwon jae sung x reader#kwon#axel kovacevic x reader#axel cobra kai#axel kovacevic
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one thing that I love about your eleutherophobia fics (among many many things) is that, despite being free of a Yeerk haunting his mind, Tom has now unwittingly replaced that with a reader listening to every thought and memory that he cares to share with us through the first person point of view. He’d be mortified if he ever broke the fourth wall ;)
thanks for your lovely writing and blog! definitely part of what’s keeping me going in these very weird times
Thank you! And yeah, I think a lot about the unique narration style in Animorphs, because I'm trying to imitate it. There's always an awareness that the characters are telling a story — the books open with the narrator going "I can't tell you my last name", and Marco especially will use imperatives like "don't tell anyone I said that." Clearly you is the reader, and each of the kids is meant to be aware that the reader is there.
There are some fascinating hints (handwaving Jake's line in #53) about who each narrator considers their audience. The Chronicles all state outright that each is an account of oneself (X) consciously crafted for one particular audience: Elfangor's talking to Tobias, Aldrea and Dak to Seerow Jr., Visser One to the Council (and Eva), and Toomin to Rachel. Ax says that he's narrating for his fellow andalites, so that they can better understand Earth (#8). Jake implies he's narrating for his great-grandkids: "I'll need to buy a footlocker" (#31). Tobias at one point implies he's talking to his imagined therapist (#23), but I also think you could argue that he's talking to the Ellimist (#13) or his dad (#33).
The others are a little trickier. Cassie seems to have Jake's same educational bent, but I'd argue she's trying to teach about the biology rather than the ethics of the war. Marco is probably talking to a kid his own age who thinks they're reading a sci fi novel. He's defensive ("call me Mr. Ruthless" as he feels empathy for baby seals), he's misdirecting ("now you know how I got a blowhole" instead of clarifying his role in the war), and he's desperate to impress ("I'm slightly not tall"). But he also references the reader "vegging out" and "watching TV." Rachel? I'd argue Rachel is talking to her own adult self. She doesn't care what others think of her, but she cares a lot about living with herself. She's trying to define who she is and who she wants to be, more than anyone else on the team.
#animorphs#animorphs spoilers#(oblique)#aximili esgarrouth isthill#jake berenson#tobias fangor#cassie animorphs#marco animorphs#rachel berenson#narration#giving an account of oneself#meta-fiction#character voice
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Kiss Me
Daryl Dixon x reader
Summary: while you and Daryl are out on a run feelings are disruptively revealed
Warnings: killing of walkers (duh), Daryl is implied to be older than reader, kissing (of course), just fluff, let me know if I've missed anything
Word count: 1299 (Think that's the most I've ever written on here lol)
Not Proofread
"Watch it."
Daryl's arm swings up lazily with his pointer finger aiming in a direction to the left of you where a walker slowly makes its way closer, stumbling and tripping over the dead plant life and its decaying limbs. You meet it halfway and its milky eyes meet yours, for a split second you let yourself wonder what kind of life this creature- no this woman- lived before the world went to shit, you take notice of the wedding ring on the ring finger of her left hand before her groans and growling got louder; your knife sinks its way into the shambling and rotting skull of the corpse and the body drops to the ground.
Up ahead a few feet Daryl watches you, your movements, your eyes and lips, your hands, he watches it all and he notices that look the one of sadness and empathy.
Before he and his group came to Alexandria you had yet to truly experience the outside world; the unrealistic safety of walls had kept you naive and unprepared for the dangers of the dead.
Though you are no longer naive to the world you still have your moments, moments where Daryl would remind you albeit a little harshly that there was nothing you could do to help these things- these "people".
When you catch up with him you smile in an attempt to convince him that you weren't thinking about what he knew you were. His brow raises at you and your eyes roll dramatically in return. You hit his arm playfully and smile again, somehow this one is brighter than the one before, "Let's keep going Dar' this food isn't gonna find itself ya' know." The corner of his mouth quirks up into a small smirk when you look away from him to continue walking he can't look away even as he makes his way back to you and you seem to have no idea the effect you have on him.
《----------♡
The two of you come across what seems like a small town with few houses and stores, a town that's probably already been raided for its supplies but Alexandra's desperation for food and medicine prompts you and Daryl to double-check- just in case.
Your eyes wander around admiring the once nice country houses as you walk down one of the streets-you forget the name of it already- and once again let your mind float away to life before. Would you have lived in a house like this if you got the chance, to live a married life with children running around if it was possible? Would the man you'd have married be a man like Daryl?
Your cheeks heat just at the thought of a domestic life with him. Is he the type of man to kiss your forehead when the two of you wake up together in bed as the sun shines through the bedroom window? You wonder if he would be the type to kiss and tickle the kids to make them laugh. Would he want a life like that or would he laugh at the idea?
You don't realize it but your legs have stopped moving, you stare at one of the houses wishing and reminiscing on what could have been but can no longer be.
Daryl watched you again but this time in confusion, this is the first time he hasn't known what you were thinking.
"What is it? Seen somethin'?" He asked walking back over to where you were to peer into the windows of the house.
Your head whips over to him eyes widening and cheeks heating even hotter in embarrassment.
Your fingers hastily move to fidget with the straps of your backpack, "I- uh- we should... let's just keep going." You keep your head down in shame at your thoughts though they weren't lewd as you make your way past him. He wants so badly to grab your arm- to have his skin gently against yours in concern as you speedily go by but he restrains himself fingers twitching against his crossbow and he clears his throat to continue after you.
《----------♡
After thoroughly searching through a hand full of buildings that included, gas stations, houses, supermarkets, and pharmacies neither of your bags were full having over found a few bottles of not too important medicines and a couple of tools.
When the two of you found a house, and cleared it of threats, to hunker down in for the night after a day of disappointments you settled in the living room upset and tired- understandably so. Worrying about the ignominy you'd feel returning home with practically nothing you let out a sigh from deep within your chest and moved your hands so the the palm of them would dig roughly into the sockets of your eyes.
Daryl let out a similar deep sigh as he settled closely next to you. His head falls back and his eyes drift to you letting a gaze so intense that you could feel it fall onto you.
You look back at him and try to let a grin form on your face but its tight lipped and almost fatigued.
The older man lets his eyes travel your face for what feels like the millionth time basking in your unreal beauty and like always their destination is your lips, though cracked they looked soft. He realizes he's ogling too late but still tries to fixates his stare back to your eyes before you notice.
You'd noticed though.
You debate asking him about it no longer worried about the lack of supplies you guys hadn't found but about whether or not you had imagined Daryl Dixon staring at your lips with a yearning you'd only seen in movies before the dead rose.
"Do you-um-" Talking about something as simple as feeling was more complex than they made it seem in movies though and you'd already stuttered over yourself an embarrassing amount of times today.
You leaned your face a little closer to his and his breath hitched. "Do you... like me? Like- do you want to kiss...me?" This was humiliating, you felt like a teenager, like you were fifteen and talking to your crush. Well, you were talking to your crush but you weren't fifteen anymore.
Daryl softly nodded letting out a gruff hum of agreement and you almost melted at the sound.
He leaned in a little closer just close enough so the tip of his nose could just barely brush against yours, "Do ya' want me to kiss ya'?"
"Please." You whispered.
His lips quirk upwards for a split second, "Please what?"
Your lips brush against his desperately, "Kiss me."
Daryl surges forward to capture your lips with his, you let out a sound on impact. The kiss is needy and filled with a want you both had been holding in for what feels like forever. Daryl's hands find your hips and grips them tightly using the strength he's built over the years to move you into his lap. You straddle him and shift you hands to rake through his hair before clasping them to the side of his head.
When you finally part for air you let your forehead rest against his, both of you panting heavily while staring into each others eyes. The smile on your face is wide and you giggle at the flushness on his cheeks- you did that to him.
The man you sit on top of doesn't know why your laughing, "Wha'?"
Relocating your head to press into the crook of his neck your smile widens and the fingers on one of your hands tangle and play with his hair, "Nothin' just... happy."
Daryl's smile is one that your sure you'll remember in every life time.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixon fic#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl#twd x reader#twd x you#twd x y/n#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon oneshot#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixion x reader#daryl dixion imagine#daryl drabbles#the walking dead#the walking dead x reader#the walking dead x you#the walking dead x y/n#daryl twd#daryl the walking dead
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CAPTAIN MISURN — "This is the one." The captain lapses into customary silence. Interrogations are *your* job, lieutenant.
CHILCHUCK — "Make it quick, yeah?" The half-foot is several drinks deep, an adventurer's preferred state. "I don't make a habit of talking to Canaries."
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — I'll have what he's having.
CHILCHUCK — He waits like a pin for your first raking pass.
- "What do you know about necromancy?"
- "I've heard you're organizing adventurers. You can't do that, it tarnishes the divine authority of Her Ethereal Majesty's glorious Elven nation!"
- "I've heard you're organizing adventurers. Do you not trust market forces to set a fair price for sneakthievery?"
- "I've heard you're organizing adventurers. It's a good start, but when do you behead the governor and let the streets run with the blood of shopkeeps and other petty-bourgeois pigs?"
- "I need to gather my party." [Leave.]
YOU — "What do you know about necromancy?"
CHILCHUCK — "Necromancy? You mean the forbidden arts? Dark magic? Officer, why in the hell would I know *anything* about that?"
DRAMA [Challenging: Success] — My liege. 'Tis not just spirits on his breath. Smell it: the savory scent of a *lie.*
EMPATHY [Legendary: Success] — There's a sorrow he's trying to hide.
- "Seems like a useful skill to pick up."
- "She's gone, isn't she?"
- "Let's talk about something else."
YOU — "She's gone, isn't she?"
CHILCHUCK — "What are you…?" His eyes widen - it's just a flicker. He shakes it away. "What are you saying, officer?"
EMPATHY — It's there. Deep in there.
- Wait, how do I know this?
- "I said she's *gone,* isn't she?"
- "Nothing. Never mind."
YOU — Wait, how do I know this?
INLAND EMPIRE — You ask from the bottom of a hole. You already know this.
EMPATHY — A pain you've borne for an age of men, alone. It's there, fresh, in the tiny mirrors of his eyes. He feels it, too.
- "I said she's *gone,* isn't she?"
- "She's gone… and she took the kids."
- "Nothing. Never mind."
YOU — "She's gone… and she took the kids."
CHILCHUCK — He scowls. "You know what? Officer, this interview is over. Any further questions will have to go through a guild representative."
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] — His hands shake around the stein. A liability for a locksmith.
AUTHORITY — Bingo.
New task: Call her.
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The Sound of His Voice
Pairings: Spencer Reid x agent!Reader Word Count: 3k words Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/vague gore, mentions of death and murder, standard Criminal Minds stuff, fluff otherwise... A/N: I started watching CM a while ago and now I can't stop so enjoy this. There will be more, I dunno when. (Should I be working on my months-in-progress-wips? Yes, I absolutely should. Am I? Mostly. I'm trying my best)
Morgan rubs his temple, digging his fingers into the side of his forehead as he shakes his head. Tapping his pen on the desk, he tosses down his file. “But here's what I don't get,” he says, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “If the unsub thinks of his victims as prey, even going as far as to torture the victim, why go through all the trouble of tucking them into bed?”
Hotch looks back at the picture in his own hands, where he had been analyzing the scene for the hundredth time in search of something he missed the first hundred. He shrugs, “Tucking them in can usually indicate signs of remorse.”
JJ motions to the pictures. “Yeah, but look at this guy. Does this look remorseful to you?”
You lift a shoulder, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Could be a second unsub.”
You are a relatively new addition to the team. It was your fifth case with them, but they already treated you like part of the team, like family. It was easy to sink into the ebb and flow of everything, especially when they trust your skills and instincts and let you know when you're doing something wrong so you know not to do it again.
But this case was difficult. Your unsub had a strange profile: an organized, white male, with surgical experience and the MO reminiscent of a cat. He kills men and women alike, and the only connection between his victims have been their smaller statures.
The age range itself was too wide, though there was a slight reoccurrence of ages between 25 and 35. But it was still too wide, either way, not enough to work with.
He ties up and tortures them before finally ending their lives with strangulation. He uses his bare hands to get the job done, which makes him a sexual sadist. As if that wasn't enough, he carves out the victim’s heart after death and takes it as a trophy.
He shows plenty of psychopathic characteristics, but he also fits the profile of a sociopath, so it's hard to make anything stick. His MO suggests a lack of empathy and guilt, but the bed-tucking… You always lose him with the bed-tucking…
Morgan shakes his head a little, humming. “But we already ruled out multiple unsubs,” he says. You nod gently. “Besides, if this guy is mimicking the hunting habits of a cat, he would hunt alone, wouldn't he?”
Reid’s head perks up. He points a pen in Morgan's direction as he shakes his head. “Actually, no.” He licks his lips, and he's grabbed your attention like a siren to a sailor. “It's a very common misconception that cats are loners, but it's untrue. Cats prefer the companionship of others just as much as a human being would.”
You lean toward him a bit across the table, watching him as he speaks, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he does. “People often think, because of their aloof nature, that they like to be left alone or actually despise the presence of other people, including their owners or other cats—which is why people believe them to be low maintenance creatures. But they are just as social as, say, a dog. Actually, it's interesting, big cats like lions, or sometimes even cheetahs, hunt in packs to take down larger prey. Domestic cats–”
“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, making a cutting motion with his hand to his neck.
Your eyes turn back to Spencer, who seems to retreat in on himself a bit as he gives an apologetic smile and a small nod. “Sorry,” he says, pulling his lips in a wide smile.
You set a hand on the table, shaking your head. “No, keep going. That was interesting.”
Spencer looks at you with these eyes that seem to shine. Your heart feels fonder, warmer, at the sight of him.
“We really don't have time to go through all of this,” Hotch says, his tone final.
“I mean,” you continue. Since joining the team, you've grown a certain affinity toward Spencer and his genius mind. Every time he's gone on his tangents, you've become enchanted by the words coming out of his mouth like he's put some sort of spell over you. You lift a shoulder, gesturing toward him. “If this guy is basing his MO off the hunting patterns of cats, we should…know everything we need to know about them, right?”
Hotch looks at you, his face hard and unreadable. You're unsure if he's considering your proposal or just trying to intimidate you. But then he sighs, his crossed arms loosening a little as he turns to Spencer.
“Reid?”
Spencer looks between you and Hotch, relenting hesitantly as he starts off slow. “Well…I was going to say domestic cats are solitary hunters but sociable creatures.” He picks up his normal speed once more, “They can be very affectionate, especially toward their owners and other cats within their households. They're also one of the only types of cats who play with their prey before killing them, which could be a reason this unsub tortures his victims so extensively in his murders.”
“Wait…” Prentiss says, catching all of your attentions. “You said ‘affectionate toward their owners’.”
“Yeah,” Spencer nods.
She waves her hands gently, “How do cats show affection for their owners?”
Spencer shrugs, “Um, bunting, purring, some scratch, sometimes they leave offerings, like dead rodents, around the house–”
“Right there!” Prentiss exclaims. “They leave offerings.”
You sit up, “The hearts.”
Hotch’s dark brows furrow. “You're saying this unsub is taking the hearts as an offering to someone else?”
Spencer thinks over that, nodding. “It's possible.”
JJ sighs. “But that still doesn't explain why we wouldn't have identified a second unsub earlier.”
Spencer holds out a hand, pointing with his pen. “Actually, it could. You see, cats also have the tendency to mimic the people they hold affection for. We might not have noticed a second MO because the submissive unsub may be mimicking the dominant one.”
“Or learning from him,” Morgan says.
“Learning?” Hotch asks.
Morgan glances around, “Well, if we're sticking so close to this cat thing, older cats often nurture the young and teach them to hunt.” He shrugs, “We could be looking at…brothers? Older and younger?”
“Or lovers,” JJ suggests. She points to a picture, the image of a chest carefully carved open to reveal a missing heart. “If the hearts are offerings, it could be a Valentine.”
“And the bed-tucking?” you ask.
Hotch picks up the picture of one of the victims, “safely” and securely tucked into bed…put to sleep. “Well, if the hearts are offerings for a lover, this unsub is sentimental. He could feel some type of sympathy or guilt for the victim and want to ‘put them to sleep’ after the torture.” He studies the image, a flash of unease behind his eyes that you know all too well. He sets it down.
“Okay, so how do we find them?” Prentiss asks, clicking her pen before setting it down to begin a definitive course of action.
Spencer points to yet another picture. “Look at these injuries. These incisions are surgical,” he clarifies. “So the dominant is a doctor or a—a veterinarian, which can be implied through his intimate knowledge of cats’ behaviors.”
“And the submissive might work under him as a nurse or an assistant,” you continue, adding on to his clever insight. He glances over at you, smiling almost giddily at your understanding.
Hotch turns to Morgan. “Do you think that's enough to work with?”
Morgan thinks for a moment, his shrug melding into a nod as he turns back to Hotch. “To fit in with the rest of the profile,” he hums, “I'd say so.”
“Okay.” Hotch nods firmly. “We'll present the profile ASAP. Morgan, get Garcia to search for any vets in the area with any records of assault charges.” He says this all while taking long strides toward the door, his red tie bouncing slightly with his movements.
Prentiss follows him with her gaze as he exits. “You think the unsub is aggressive?”
He turns briefly. “Look at the bruising on the neck. The torture alone is an indicator of anger and frustration, but the way the victim was strangled suggests force. Much more than necessary just to crush a windpipe. He's an organized killer with a lot of rage. If he moves more along the lines of a sociopath, our best guess is he's had some kind of trouble with the law at some point in his life,” he concludes. Glancing aside, he speaks again, a little more firmly. “Morgan.”
“On it,” he says, his phone already ready to contact Garcia on speed dial.
“And Reid,” Hotch says, focusing his hard stare on the younger agent.
He stiffens, straightening his back and awaiting his response. “Yes?”
There's a pause as Hotch examines him silently. With a single nod, he says, “Good work.”
He glances at you. A nod.
You nod back.
Hotch leaves in a hurry, and your gaze immediately and instinctively flicks to Spencer. He smiles at you, turning away as though he was shyly hiding that same smile.
~
There were two unsubs: a surgical veterinarian and his nurse. You caught them just in time, just as that knife was gleaming in the golden light of the lamps swinging above the three bodies down in the basement of the submissive unsub’s house.
And now you soared 40,000 feet above the ground with another killer put away for good.
Everyone's in their own spirit, placing you across the aisle from JJ and Spencer in their own booths, a crochet set in your lap as you continue one of your projects. Emily's eyes linger on JJ, watching the crease of her brow as she studies case files.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, setting her book to the side to shift her attention. Derek darts his eyes up from his own book, lifting his brow as he does it.
JJ looks up, breathing in and lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. “I don't know about you,” she says, “but I know that if I got an actual human heart on Valentine's Day, me and my alleged partner would have some serious issues.”
Snorts and chuckles lift from multiple places among the seats, heads shaking and attentions shifting back to their own activities.
But as soon as you hear the first lilt of Spencer's voice, like clockwork, you're a fish on a hook.
“Actually,” he begins, “if we were set back thousands of years, that would not be a very unusual occurrence.” He licks his lips quickly, “You see, Valentine's Day’s origins actually go back to a festival called Lupercal, or Lupercalia. The festival was in itself a very violent and sexually charged affair that lasted roughly three days—from the 13th to the 15th—set in Rome. Its traditions were carried out in two separate locations, firstly–”
“Alright,” JJ rises to her feet, her eyes wide in annoyance as she closes her case file in a large announcement to Spencer. “I'm getting coffee. Do you want anything?”
Spencer purses his lips, that same wide, apologetic grin covering his face as he leans back in his seat and shakes his head. “Uh, no. All good here.”
She nods, turning to walk away, “Great.”
You watch JJ leave, your eyes fall back upon Spencer, who's pulling his book back into his palms to turn his focus back on the pages. His eyes flit over the words at lightning speed, absorbing the information and moving to the next.
Taking your crochet set in your hands, you stand and plop down in JJ’s old spot. Spencer's eyes darts up to you, glancing between you and his book as you set your stuff down and readjust your yarn.
Beginning again, you nod toward him. “You were saying?”
Spencer, his eyes wide and confused and his lips parted in wonder and his cheeks a little pink, stares at you. After remembering he had to respond, he sputters in an attempt to.
“Uh, it's-it's really not that…interesting,” he mumbles, trailing off at the end as he sets his book down, his fingertips pressing against the edge of the desk between the both of you.
“Well,” you look up at him, setting your elbow on the table and tucking your first underneath your chin, “I was very interested.”
His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His lips form the word before it comes out of his mouth. “You were?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
Looking at him for a moment—just looking at him for a moment—you take in the pretty sight of his bewildered expression, fascination and confusion and excitement crossing his face in a flurry of emotion.
You move your elbow from the table and pick up your hook, nodding toward him before training your eyes on your work again as you await his words. “Firstly?” you prompt.
Scrambling to organize his thoughts, Spencer nods. As the words form in his brain, he smiles as he thrusts himself into another rant, speaking a little softer so as not to aggravate the rest of the team.
“Well, firstly, the uh— The-the first location was in a cave called Lupercus—named after the Roman fertility god that the celebration was dedicated to—and the second is a public meeting place called the Comitium.”
You tilt your head toward him, smiling a little. “Like the word ‘committee’.”
“Exactly like the word ‘committee’,” he beams.
Your attention, as hard as you tried to split it, becomes entirely caught up in Spencer as you forget about your project and focus your gaze entirely on him. You set your arms on the table separating you and watch as he speaks, your smile definitely too love-sick to be a hint anymore. He seems to lean in closer.
“So how did Lupercalia become Valentine's Day?” you wonder aloud.
“Well,” he starts, prompting a larger grin from you, “in the late 5th century A.D., Pope Gelasius I eliminated it and declared February 14th a day to celebrate the martyrdom of Saint Valentine instead—although it's highly unlikely he intended the day to commemorate love and passion as it is celebrated now. In fact, some modern biblical scholars warn Christians not to celebrate Valentine's Day at all, due to its Pagan roots and rituals.”
You hum, your eyes taking glances at the stretch of his skin over his fingers and the way they move when he speaks.
“Do you celebrate Valentine's Day?” you ask gently, speaking slowly.
His hands fall back down to his lap, and he shakes his head as he straightens his posture a bit. “Well…I don't usually have anyone to celebrate it with, so… No, not really.”
Feeling the shyness slipping into your veins, you set your hands on the table and let your fingers slowly inch toward him, staring at them inside of his eyes. You don't want to see the rejection if it lives there, in his eyes.
You speak slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “Would you like to have someone to celebrate it with?”
He swallows thickly, letting one hand lift onto the table, still close to him but building up courage to maybe meet you in the middle. “Like…” he clears his throat quietly. “Like you?”
You offer a right smile, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his and feeling giddy at the light blush on his cheeks, the nervous wideness of his gaze. “I promise no actual hearts.”
You watch him, and again…his eyes, his Adam's apple, his cheeks, his lips. “Uh…yeah,” he stutters. “Yeah, sure. I'll be your…your Valentine.”
You smile, a wide smile that splits your face in two. Spencer's own grin follows suit. Looking past you, he catches the eyes of Derek, who smirks and offers a cheesy thumbs up, proud of him for securing you as he did.
His gaze falls back to you when you begin to speak, your voice just as song-ish to him as his is to you. You're both equally as infatuated as the other. “You know,” you trail off slowly, “supposedly, Saint Valentine might be so commonly associated with our day of love because there are rumors that he used to perform secret weddings against the wishes of the authorities in the third century.”
He nods slowly, his brows furrowed slightly. “Yes, that's right…” Licking his bottom lip, he speaks again. “You already knew all that stuff about Lupercalia, didn't you?”
You smile, your face squished a bit as you raise your hands and close your thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe a little,” you whisper. But then you shrug and just keep looking at him. “But I like listening to you talk.”
Spencer suddenly doesn't think you're real, but he isn't about to question it if you aren't. There's someone who enjoys his tangents. He isn't going to jeopardize that.
“Oh,” is all he says.
With your crocheting long forgotten, you lean forward on the table and give him every ounce of attention in your mind. With a fond smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye, you rest your chin on your folded hands. “You should tell me about…” you pause, thinking, before you smile curls even more, “bees.”
His brows lift as he nods. “Okay, well,” he starts, “did you know the first civilization to practice widespread, organized beekeeping was the Ancient Egyptians, who began beekeeping around 2,500 BCE?”
Your brows lift in fascination. You shake your head, “No, I didn't.”
His smile grows. “Well…”
For the remainder of the flight, Spencer talks and talks and talks, his voice quiet and meant solely for you as he talks about whatever you want: bees and wine and marbles and Halloween. He keeps smiling at you, as you keep smiling at him. Somewhere along the way, he officially asks you on a date, and you both get off the jet together to get a cup of coffee.
You love the way he talks.
Criminal Minds taglist: ... Tag yourself here...
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#reader insert#female reader
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Relax
Poly!JegulusxFem!Reader
warning: smut
Hi ! This is the first smut fic that I'm more than satisfied with, so I really hope you will enjoy it 💗
English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.
You were stressed.
You were so fucking stressed, that you either weren't even able to function properly due to sleep deprivation, or you were a nightmare to be around, snapping about every little thing.
James and Regulus noticed, obviously.
They always noticed when there was something wrong with you.
Regulus was too observant for his own good, and James had such empathy that he could sense the slightest changes in your mood from a mile away.
And, maybe, the fact that you had literally screamed at an owl for interrupting your studying when the poor bird was just trying to deliver some mail to its owner in the middle of the Great Hall could've been an indicator as well, you weren't sure, really.
So when they basically cornered you in your dorm room, locking the door with a charm and sporting twin expressions of concern, you knew it was probably worse than you had noticed.
“I know, I know. I just need to finish this essay and then I'll be all yours, ok ?” you say as you retrieve the book you need for your paper. You try to walk past them to reach the door but, predictably, they stop you.
“Where do you think you're going ?” James questions, raising an eyebrow.
“To the library James, where else would I be fucking going ?” you snarl.
Regulus gives you a pointed look, and your shoulders sag in response.
You knew you were being a bit difficult to deal with, and hurting the two boys you loved the most in the world was the last thing you wanted. But all the pressure you had been under the past few weeks was catching up to you and you were a ticking bomb ready to explode.
“Sorry. I'm sorry Jamie, but I really need to finish this essay” you say with a pleading look, begging him with your eyes to let you go.
“You've been in the library all day everyday for the past week, Y/n. Don't you think it's time for a break ?” Regulus asks. His voice is so gentle and so delicate that you really just want to curl into a ball and cry.
“I can't” you say sighing “the essay is due Thursday. I only have two days to work on it, I can't afford to waste time” you say as your hands run through your hair in frustration.
“So spending time with us would be time wasted ?” the Gryffindor asks, lifting his eyebrows as a flash of disbelief passes through his eyes.
“Yes !” You scream in anger, and only then you realize the gravity of your words. It takes one look at James’ hurt expression, and Regulus’ cold stare.
“I mean, no ! That's not-” You let out a shaky breath as you sit on the bed, your throat tight. “That is not what I meant, I swear. You know it, you know I didn't mean that”
Your head is hung low and you can't even look at them in the face.
You were feeling like shit, but that didn't mean that you had to make them feel awful too.
You felt guilt crawling up to every fiber of your body.
“I'm sorry, I'm being a bitch” you say, and you feel your eyes start to water, gaze still glued to the floor of your room.
Your eyes fix on Regulus as he kneels down in front of you, searching your gaze until it locks in his, and you're not able to pull away from the stormy gray of his eyes.
“You're not being a bitch, my love. You're just stressed. You need to relax” he says as he tucks your hair behind your ear, letting the pads of his fingers dance on the skin of your cheek.
“I'm not stressed, I promise I can manage until-”
“Baby, you told a second year to fuck off because he tripped in front of you, and made you late for class” James says with an humorless chuckle as he sits down on the bed next to you.
Your eyes snap to his, incredulous.
“I- No that's-” you look at him, horrified “Did I ?”
He doesn't answer, but the look of pity and worry on his face tells you everything.
You didn't even remember. And a second year ? They were basically a child. You cussed out a bloody child.
You needed to get a grip, and apologize. Oh, you needed to apologize so much.
“I'm so sorry, I-”
“It's ok, Y/n. Really. You're under a lot of pressure and no one blames you for being a bit snappy, but you need a break” Regulus says, coming up to sit on the bed too, together with you and James.
“But-”
“Let me rectify. You need a break now” he says, and all the protests that were ready to come out of your mouth die in your throat.
“You're right” you say beyond exhausted “and, trust me, I know you are but the essay-”
“Remus will handle it” James says nonchalantly, not even batting an eye.
“What ?” you ask confused, blinking rapidly.
“You two have Divination together, don't you ? He will be more than happy to help you with your paper” he states, grinning slightly.
“But James-” you try to protest. You don't want Remus to do extra work just because you couldn't handle a bit of stress.
“No ‘buts’, darling. He's already on it” he says. His arm lifts up to move your hair from your shoulder, exposing your neck.
“What do you mean he's already on it ?” You ask confused as you try not to shudder at the contact of his fingers with the sensitive skin of your throat. And then your eyes go wide as it clicks on your brain.
Oh, these two.
“You planned this, didn't you ?” you ask, bewildered, as you turn to Regulus.
You would expect something like this from James, sure, he was the king of interventions when something was wrong.
But Regulus ?
Damn, you must've been a real nightmare to be around.
“I told you” he says, inching closer and closer, until your lips are a breath away “you need to relax” he breathes, and then he is kissing you so deeply that the air gets knocked out of your lungs.
His lips are soft, so soft, and needy, and hungry and everything you needed in that moment.
You part your lips and his tongue slips in, caressing yours as he deepens the kiss even more and a soft moan leaves your mouth, because, fucking hell, you missed this, and you missed him and his relentless mouth as it works against yours, and the way his teeth graze your bottom lip, softly, sucking right after in a soothing manner.
And you missed James and his mouth on your neck, where he knew exactly where to kiss, to lick, to gently suck and taste your skin, as more delightful sounds leave your lips, making your head spin, as his wonderful hands travel all over your body and make you squirm and shiver in the best way.
“So this is your idea of relaxation ?” you ask breathlessly as you part from Regulus’ lips only to feel them trace a path from the corner of your mouth, to your cheek, then your jaw, and ending on your neck, on the exact place opposite to James, and he starts licking too. You could swear you were in heaven as breathless whimpers escaped from your kiss bruised lips.
“I'd say it's a pretty good idea, don't you think baby ?” James asks, lifting his head from your neck to inch closer to your mouth.
“Absolutely” you and Regulus answer in a chorus. And you would've laughed in any other situation, really, but then James' lips collided with yours and every thought in your brain just ceased to exist.
It was just him, and his fantastic, amazing, wonderful lips as they chased yours hungrily.
“Shit, I- missed this” you say in between kisses, as soft needy sounds echo through the room.
“Tell us about it” Regulus says with a chuckle, lifting his head from your neck.
His eyes are hazy, as are yours and James’, and his lips are swollen, and red, and plump and-
“Don't be mean Reggie” James says, leaving your lips alone to focus on your jaw. His tone doesn't have any bark, he's just teasing.
“Oh, but you like it when I'm mean, don't you Jamie ?” The Slytherin teases further, and in a heartbeat they're kissing, devouring each other’s mouths like they were starved.
It's a lot of tongue, and a lot of teeth, and a lot of lust and fire, and you were left speechless in front of such a sight.
Salazar only knows how much you had missed this, missed them.
How could you give so much of your time to essays and papers, and neglect the amazing boys you hand in front of you ?
You must’ve been crazy, really.
“Enjoying the show, love ?” James asks with a smirk as he trails kisses down Regulus' neck.
“You know I always do” you say, backing up a bit farther on the bed and taking off your uniform, because there were definitely too many fucking clothes in the way of your 'relaxation'.
“James, baby, your mouth is a gift sent from heaven, trust me” Regulus says, voice shaking from pleasure as he pushes James away gently “but you do remember who this is about, right ?”
“As if I could ever forget” James says with a grin and they both turn to you and notice that you're halfway undressed, the first buttons of your shirt undone and your legs pressed together so embarrassingly tight.
Your cheeks are flushed and your lips are plump and bruised and you're on cloud nine, because after a horrible week full of no Regulus and no James they're now both in front of you, taking each other’s clothes off.
Oh, to be graced by this sight every minute of every day for the rest of your life.
And Merlin, you really need to thank whoever invented Quidditch, because-
“Bloody hell, you both look like you were sculpted by the Gods” you say as your mouth waters. Their bodies are a work of art, two of the seven wonders of the earth. All those lean muscles, slender waists and their backs.
Oh God, their backs.
You wanted to swallow them whole.
Both of them, preferably at the same time.
They grin at your comment, and then they're both on the bed by your side, James on your right and Regulus on your left.
“Speaking of being sculpted by Gods…” James says as his hands go to your shirt to unbutton the remaining buttons, and then Regulus helps you take it off completely, leaving a few open mouthed kisses on your neck as he does.
“Lay back baby, would you ?” the Slytherin asks gently, but his voice is so low and so full of lust and desire that a shiver ripples through your whole body.
You don't even notice James unclasping your bra before your back makes contact with the bed beneath you.
“Oh, look at you. So perfect, so fucking perfect” the Gryffindor whispers on your lips before kissing you and taking you to a whole other world.
You can feel Regulus’ mouth tracing your neck, leaving marks you were sure would be every shade of red and purple by the following day.
He gives attention to every inch of your skin as James makes sure to leave you breathless, and senseless, just by swiping his tongue against yours.
Then you feel Regulus lips on your breast and your head starts spinning, the breath is knocked out of your lungs and moans of pure bliss fill the room.
“Fuck- Reggie-” you whimper on James’ mouth.
Your hand goes to Regulus’ hair, cradling your fingers through it as he delicately sucks on the sensitive skin of your nipple, leaving tiny kitten licks, soft kisses, light grazes of his teeth, and then the gentle suction begins again and you could literally melt.
“Merlin, baby, the sounds you make” James whispers on your lips and then proceeds to make his way down, hovering over your other breast and then diving in, with Regulus’ same gentleness.
The warmth of their mouths on your sensitive skin, the feeling of their back muscles under your hands as you let them roam on their bodies, feeling every curve, every chiseled corner, it was a feeling you missed for a week.
And now it's here, they're here, in front of you, and you could literally die on the spot and be happy.
But they seem to disagree as they both lift their heads up, sharing a languid kiss that makes you even wetter than you already are.
Because, fucking hell, you were drenched since the first time they put their lips on you today.
You went on for so long without feeling their touch that as soon as their skin came in contact with yours your body started burning, finally alive again.
They break apart, slowly, and without saying a word they start going down, and down, and down, leaving open mouthed kisses on your stomach, on your hips, on your thighs.
“You don't have to” you tell them, because really they don't. Up until that moment everything had been about you. You wanted them to feel good too. You wanted to make them feel good.
“But we want to” Regulus says as he leaves kisses on your inner thigh. Soft, gentle, delicate kisses. James does the same on your other thigh.
“Do you want to ?” the Gryffindor asks, slightly lifting his head from your thighs to see your answer.
“I really fucking do” you admit, your hands in their hair, fingers cradling softly through their locks.
“Perfect” says Regulus, inching closer and closer to where you need him, need them, the most “now be a good girl, and keep your legs spread for us, ok ? Don't think about anything. Let loose baby, you deserve it”
And then he dives in, licking a long strip along your folds as your world shakes with the power of ten thousand earthquakes.
The moan you let out could probably be heard from a mile away, but you couldn't give less than a shit, because Regulus is eating you out like it's his last meal. He's ravenous, and eager, and gentle at the same time, and so so good, and-
“Fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck” your curses mix with whimpers and moans and you never want it to stop, ever. You wish you could remain in this bliss for eternity.
And then Regulus opens his mouth.
“James, James, Jamie, come here love” he says breathlessly. Mouth covered in your essence and eyes hazy and a fucked out expression on his face.
You swear you could come on the spot.
James, who had been busy worshiping your thighs, doesn't let Regulus tell him twice.
At the feeling of James’ tongue right on your little bundle of nerves they're so familiar with, you see stars, you see whole new universes.
“Fuck- you taste so good, baby” he moans.
“So sweet”
“So fucking sweet”
You arch your back as moans keep tumbling out of your lips.
You're breathless, a mass of choked out sounds and incoherent words. You're burning alive, the fire in your veins so strong and powerful that you feel like you could melt.
And then you make the mistake of looking down at them, right between your thighs, as they feast on your pussy like they were born for it.
“Oh, fuck- I'm-” you don't even have the time to finish your sentence because both their tongues are on that sweet sweet spot that makes you see stars, sucking gently, and in a heartbeat the coil in your tummy snaps and you not only see stars, you see an entire galaxy.
Finally, after a week of pure torture, you find yourself in heaven with the two most beautiful angels right between your thighs.
Your breath is ragged, you're breathing heavily, and you're the most relaxed and content you had ever been in the past few days.
Your body feels like jelly, your legs shaking slightly.
You must've zoned out a bit after the most earth-shattering orgasm you've had in a while, because James and Regulus were now laying next to you, gently caressing your hair in a soothing manner.
“Welcome back” James says with the most beautiful smile ever.
“Was I out for long ?” you ask, blinking slowly.
The three of you are under the covers now, still very naked, and still very happy.
“Ten seconds max” Regulus tells you, his eyes soft, a fond expression on his face.
Merlin, he's so beautiful.
They're both so beautiful.
“You can sleep, love, it's okay” the Gryffindor says, as he softly strokes your cheek with the pads of his fingers.
“But-”
“Everything is clean, we took care of it, as always” Regulus interrupts you sweetly.
You really had the best boyfriends in the world.
“God, I love you so much” you say sincerely.
“Oh, really ? Wouldn't have guessed that. What do you say, Reg ? Did you notice ?” James says teasingly as a grin grows on his lips.
“Would've never been able to guess, honestly” says the Slytherin, equally as teasing James.
“You twats, I was being serious” you say and then you realize your mistake.
“Don't you even try to make that joke right now” you warn them, especially James, who makes the gesture of zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key, but he has the stupidest most adorable smile on his face.
“We love you too, darling” says Regulus “but I think you should sleep now. It's getting late”
“Will you stay here ?” you ask, hopeful.
“Of course, love” James assures you.
And that's how you fall asleep that night.
In a tangle of limbs and bodies, between your two very personal angels.
Divination essay long forgotten.
#marauders#marauder's era#the maraunders map#harry potter#james potter#regulus black#sirius black#remus lupin#lily evans#marlene mckinnon#mary macdonald#smut#marauders smut#polyamory#barty crouch junior#evan rosier#dorcas meadowes#pandora rosier#slytherin skittles#gryffindor#slytherin#james potter x reader#regulus black x reader#regulus black x james potter#regulus black smut#james potter smut
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Period cramps
Summary | reader having bad period cramps. Request by @flora-eva
Pairing | boyfriend!jj x reader
Warning | period cramps, it's all fluff
A/N | I hope you like it sweetheart
✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ ⎯⎯ ✦
You've always had painful period cramp but today seems like it's even worse, the stabbing sensation in your lower abdomen feels like a sharp knife twisting, the cramps are so intense that they send shooting pains down your legs, making it hard to even stand.
The side of the bed was empty, JJ was probably getting ready in the bathroom meanwhile you wake up to painful cramps in your stomach whimpering in pain.
You didn't hear your boyfriend walking in the bedroom sitting on the edge of the bed, -"baby what's wrong?" He strokes your hair with his fingers hoping it would ease you down.
You slowly crawl on his laps seeking for comfort, the pain is unbeareble causes you to sob in JJ's arms as you struggle to talk -"period".
It then clicked in JJ's head.
At first he is taken aback that you're seeking comfort in him ; usually, you were ignoring him or mostly in a grumpy mood when you get your period.
He holds you tightly in his arms hushing your sobs, when suddenly an idea popped in his mind.
-"How about I run you a bath, sweetheart? Then we can lay back in bed," he whispers in your ear while rubbing your back. Your grip around his shoulders tightens as you nod your head.
He slowly carries you to the bathroom, your head snuggled in the crook of his neck until he sits you down on the toilet lid while he starts running the bath.
He turns back to you, helping you removing your clothes ; your period cramps were too painful for you to be in a grumpy mood.
-"jj s'hurt so bad" the look in your eyes causes JJ to feel pity for you, he nods with empathy as he leads you to the bath.
-"theere we go mama, you'll feel better soon" he sits down on the edge of the bath stroking your hair, as you rest your head against his lap holding out your hand.
-"can you hold my hand, babe?" You say in a soft tone, he gives you a reassuring smile and gently interlock your fingers with his.
After a few minutes, you're starting to doze off, the warm water which begins to get cooler eases down your period cramps a bit.
JJ keeps looking at you, noticing that you're about to fall asleep, he start whistling to gently wake you up, -"let's get to bed ; it'll feel warmer, sweetheart"
As he helps you get out of the bath tub, wrapping you in a soft towel, a wave of guilt runs through your heart, wanting to apologies that he has to see you in this state.
He picks one of your black panties and a pad, as you watch him unwrapping it, you step closer to him -"no baby, you don't have to do this, I can do it myself" you place a hand on his back.
-"shh, hey I got this, let me take care of my girl" he gently holds your hand leaving a kiss on the back of it, and then get back to sticking the pad on your panties.
Meanwhile you grab a grey shirt of him in his closet, pulling it over you shoulders.
-"here we go mama" he hands you the panties, a smirk forming on his face as he sees you wearing his shirt.
He kisses your forehead before walking into the bedroom, looking for a heating pad but can't seem to find it.
When you finally get out of the bathroom, he looks at you while patting the side of the bed.
You slowly get in bed, snuggling against him. "I didn't find the heating pad, buuut I might have an idea," he says. Before you can process what he has said, he lifts you up, laying you down on his chest, your back pressed against his torso.
He begins to kiss your neck as his warm hand finds its way to your lower stomach, massaging it as he holds you tightly in his embrace. Feeling comfy in his arms, you start dozing off.
Taglist
@nemesyaaa @jjsfavgirl
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Hello :) could you do an imagine/story where Ruben and reader have a boy and he is a big momma’s boy like he’s jealous when Ruben kiss reader please (sorry for my bad English btw) if you don’t feel comfortable writing it that’s okay
I LOVE THIS REQUEEEST! 🤭💓🤭💓
Please keep em coming!
10 DAYS OF REQUESTS
(DAY 1)
Ruben Dias - Mommy's Boy
This one is so funny 😭
Enjoy!
Having a six year old boy seemed more of a challenge than having a four - or three year old boy.
Six was the age of discovery. Discovery of how spicy a Portuguese pepper can be when devoured raw. Discovery of how fast a bicycle can travel downhill when you take off the training wheels. Or your son's most recent discovery — How high the swing in the backyard goes before its ropes snap and lunges him across mommy's neatly pruned rose bushes.
"My arm!" Your son cried out, as you and Ruben rushed down the steps to the backyard.
You had witnessed it all from the kitchen window. The last part at least, when the swings ropes snapped and your son's body was thrown across the yard. Before then, Ruben had your back pressed against the refrigerator, his lips tracing ever so gently down the slope of your neck while his rough hands crept up your thighs and under your dress. Nedless to say that your son's cries stopped it all, to your husband's annoyance, of course.
"Help, mommy. It hurts!" Your son cried, as you fought to get him out from the leaves and thornes. He was all bruised up once you did.
"I'll go get the band-aids." Ruben sighed. He returned to the house while you carried your son to the steps leading up to it. Your son cradled in your arms, his dark hair head nuzzling into the pit of your embrace as the two of you settled down.
"Oh, hubby." You cooed. "Why do you always have to get yourself into such trouble? Can't you see how you keep scaring mommy to death."
Your son sniffled in response. "I'm sorry mommy."
"Oh, no. There's nothing to be sorry about. It was all an accident."
"Yeah, right." A voice scolded behind you. Ruben, appearing in the backdoor with the band-aids in his hand. He dropped them in your lap and joined you and your son on the steps.
"Baby, what's gotten into you?" You said, noting the bitterness in Ruben's comment.
"Nothing, nothing." He muttered. "It's just funny that..." He paused to reconsider his words.
"Ruben?" Your narrowed gaze challenge for him to go on.
He shook his head with laughter and disbelief. "I dunno Y/N, but don't you think that it's very coincidental that every time the two of us....well...."
"Well?" You frowned, rocking the sniffling boy in your arms.
Ruben looked to your son, however, not with the same empathy as you. "If I put it this way. Last week, the two of us were in our room, in bed, doing what adults do during late hours, especially after a well played game like mine—."
"Ruben." Heat suddenly flushed to your cheeks. You knew exactly what events of last week that Ruben was referring to. However, it was highly inappropriate to bring up such subjects amongst children. "Your point is?" You emphasized.
"My point is..." Ruben declared. "I barely got to touching you that night before little Romeo here came running into our room with a burning tongue." Ruben's eyes darted at your son, who snickered at the phrase "Little Romeo."
"Honey." You felt obligated to defend your son. "He simply mistook your mom's peppers for a regular Bell one."
"Mistook my ass! What was he even doing roaming around in the kitchen that late at night? And do you remember that time we took the training wheels off his bicycle and he conveniently decided to send it down the hill. Do you remember that time?"
"Yes, Ruben. But what's that got to do with anything?"
Your husband ran a hand through his hair, looking to calm himself down. "All I'm saying is that you wouldn't leave his side after our son got his knees bruised up from his hell ride. Same thing as today. I mean, look at him."
You both tilted your heads to meet the bright beaming eyes of your son, who seemed delighted to be curled up in your arms despite becoming way too big to do so.
"Look, the thornes didn't even manage to cut him up that deep. I bet he just saw us kissing through the window while on the swing and decided to lunge himself off of it."
"Ruben?" You gasped. "Are you telling me that our son injures himself purposely just to get our attention?"
"Your attention." Ruben corrected.
You looked to your son and back to Ruben. "I can't believe you."
"Don't believe me? Fine, I'll prove it." Ruben's hand reached for the nape of your neck, tilting your head with the motion of drawing you towards him. Towards his lips, to be exact. But before his parted mouth could even brush pass your own, your son erupted in an ear shattering wail.
"Told you." Ruben grinned and let go of your neck.
You were perplexed, looking down at your son whose face had gone red from crying. He held up his finger, offering it to you. "It hurts, mommy. Kiss and make it better."
"I—"
Behind you, Ruben was trembling with laughter. "Huh, it seems like I'm competing with my son for my own wife's attention."
"But that...." You regarded them both in confusion. The whole thing utterly absurd.
"Don't worry." Ruben pressed a swift kiss to your cheek and rose from the steps, looking to return the band-aids. He paused in the door. "Our son will grow out of it. In the meantime, I guess he can have you....at least during the day."
The wink of Ruben's eye sent a tickling shiver down your spine. You quickly shook out of it to address your son. "You. Little. Gremlin." He giggled at your choice of words, and so you resorted to torturing him by tickling his belly. "You are such a mommy's boy, aren't you? A mommy's boy, that's what you are."
"Mommy, stop it. I can't breathe." He laughed.
"Oh, no. Not so fast." You continued poking his little belly. It was the least you could do for raising such a menace.
The tickling seized once the two of you were left breathless. By then, your torturing methods shifted to a serenation of kisses. Kisses you thought would annoy your son. Instead, he squirmed beaneth you, each peck of your lips making him errupt in joyous shouts. Perhaps Ruben was right that your sons admiration for you wouldn't last forever. Until then, you were going to enjoy having a little mommy's boy all to yourself.
#fanfiction#football imagine#footballer x reader#footballer imagine#football angst#ruben dias#man city#manchester city#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine#10 days of requests#day1
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Hiiii! I love your stories and the plots!❤️🔥 I was also wondering if you could do Mafia!König x Cafe!Worker!Reader??? If not, that’s okay!👍🏻 Keep up the great work btw!🫶🏻
Konig doesn't really go to cafes anymore. He has private restaurants and special rooms at the clubs—he has the means to eat and to meet without prying eyes, desperate to look for his vulnerabilities or catch a glimpse of his face. He doesn't even drink coffee in public spaces anymore - too many uncertainties, too many chances to get poisoned or shot by an overzealous spy. Konig will gladly die if that means spending even a second more with you. You have no idea, of course. A pretty little waitress fumbling around the daily specials menu and talking about the weather, not knowing that the man in front of you can end your life. Konig feels weird - like a schoolboy again, an awkward teenager in front of a pretty girl. He thought his social anxiety was killed somewhere along with his empathy and shriveled around his dead cold heart, but here he is - not knowing what to say when you ask him if he wants a dessert to accompany his black coffee or if he is more of a savory breakfast type. Konig wants to say that he would rather die than to eat the usual sugary pancakes or barely cooked eggs that this cheap establishment provides, but he also can't help but think that he would gladly eat every last drop of some horribly sugary syrup if he would be able to lick it off your skin. He will happily by the whole menu and feed it to you, piece by piece, if that means not fumbling through his answer as he is trying to engage in a small talk. He is mortified whenever you're trying to chat him up - and he is devastated when you don't.
Needless to say, when some of the more rowdy regulars are trying to give you a bad time by the end of your shift - Konig hates hates hates how you work some nights and closing shifts, even though it means being able to see you more than on occasional forced breakfast - he is not afraid of telling them off. Maybe be a bit more rude to them, not care on how it looks - and then tell his boys to dump the bodies in the back alley while Konig fumbles through another attempt at asking for your number.
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LOOK HERE ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ MICHAEL KAISER X FEM!READER .ᐟ at first, i was only curious as i started to show interest in you. even if you ignore me you'll fall for me for a minute. we look good together, a day without you is a one-act play of tragedy.
GO TO THE EVENT MASTERLIST
Is it a tragedy, comedy, or romance? Or everything at once? Because Michael Kaiser never looked for another lead role in his world, he was destined to be number one and to reveal the impossible things in life, and meeting you wasn’t just a coincidence—it was what he wanted. You are a flower, a rather unique and beautiful blooming flower that seems to close and shows its stings, but he’d already figured out your pretty charms.
A guy like him has talent for going to you, a guy like him is perfect for you, so stop playing hard to get and just give him a chance. Despite him not liking receiving gifts, he would buy you a rose garden, a mansion, or front-row concert tickets…just please give him a chance. You're his ideal type, let's get married because you are already featured in his daily life, always on his mind even if he doesn’t want you to be but that seems rather impossible.
“Look here, don't run away,” you now regret inviting him to your birthday party. You only did it out of solidary, empathy and to have the good image, that you are a good person who doesn’t hold grudges against anyone, except him. Oh, he is making your blood boil. But you can't deny that it's kind of...pleasant. It wasn't awkward, not at all, but there was something left unsaid, and it was from you. How much longer are you going to lie to yourself that you don't have feelings for him?
His blue eyes held both arrogance and warmth. You want to look away, but his gaze pins you there, leaving you defenseless.
“You’re a thief, I’m the police,” he repeats, clearly enjoying himself. “Pay for your crime.” His tone is teasing, but the intensity in his eyes tells a different story, something you already know even if you tried to deny it. Scoffing and rolling your eyes, pretending you’re unaffected, though your heart’s racing. “I haven’t stolen anything,” you insist, trying to sound resentful. “And it’s my birthday, Kaiser. You could at least pretend to be nice.”
But he only grins wider, not fooled by your attempt to bring back your thorns so he could sting himself, again. “Oh, you did, and you know it. Right…” He places his tattooed hand on his chest, where his heart would be, that same maddeningly cocky look on his face. “Right here.”
Oh, he’s not serious—he can’t be. "You're impossible, you know that?” you muttered, crossing your arms, still not breaking eye contact. But your cheeks flushed, trying to control your reaction. Of all days—your special day, of all times—he was here, getting under your skin. "Mmm, impossible to resist, you mean," But even as you deny it, you’re painfully aware of how close he’s standing, of how intensely he’s watching you.
“Oh, stop looking at me like that,” you huffed, annoyed, though your pulse quickened. “Like what?” he asked innocently, knowing full well what he was doing, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips.
"Like…" You were trying your best not to fumble anything and to find the right words, but when he looked at you like that it was so hard to concentrate to think of something to say. “Like you’re actually serious. You’re just playing with me, aren’t you?”
Kaiser tilted his head, as he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You think I’m playing? Just because I’m not as obvious about it?” He paused, his gaze more intense than before. "I’m not joking, you know. You think I go to everyone’s birthday party and play the villain to impress them?"
“Impress me? Do you think this is… impressive?” you reply, smirking despite yourself and his expression matches it—genuine, thoughtful. You couldn't believe that The German Priodgy would have a weakness and it would be you.
“I’m here because I wanted to be,” he says simply, almost like it surprises him too. “You’re here in my head, and I didn’t invite you, you know?” He gives a small laugh, and you know he’s serious despite his usual way of expressing himself.
You realize he’s waiting for a reply. He looks at you daring you to deny what he suspects, what maybe he already knows. But saying it out loud feels impossible, terrifying even. The walls you’ve carefully built against him are thinning, but you’ve held onto them for so long that letting them down now feels like giving him too much, like admitting he’d won something he wasn’t supposed to.
For a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background. There’s only you and him, standing too close, hearts beating in sync, and a thousand unsaid things lingering in the air between you. But maybe some things don’t need to be said—at least, not yet, because soon, you'll want him and finally look his way.
©2024 kaiser1ns nineteenth birthday party.
#✧* ꜝ PARTY PARTY YEAH !#D-4 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 NOV. 16#✧* ꜝ blue lock#✧* ꜝ michael kaiser#blue lock#x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock x you#michael kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader fluff#blue lock fluff#michael kaiser x you#kaiser x you#kaiser michael#kaiser blue lock#bllk fluff#kaiser fluff#blue lock michael kaiser
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