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whore-era · 1 year

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1-800-GIRLS

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: where ellie dials the wrong number and meets you instead. ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, mentions spitplay/breathplay/overstimulation, mentions sexual interactions with men, dirty talking, guided masturbation (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames (babygirl, sweet girl, pretty girl, pup, puppy) let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: i feel like this kinda sucked bc towards the end i kinda rushed it, but i couldn't shake this idea n knew i had to write it. hope u like it bbs<3 also thank u to my bestie @elskittie for helping me figure some things out w this fic ☁︎ word count: 4,463 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 2

phone call style story — reader is in italics, ellie is in bold.

monday, 12:45am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, hot stuff?

uhh.. i just wanted to order a pepperoni pizza..

oh yeah? you want something hot and ready? i have something hot and ready for you.

ummm..

you hear some shuffling in the background, "jess! i think you gave me the wrong number!" the person comes back on the line again.

this isn't papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

....do you want me to roleplay as papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

woah woah woah! roleplay?? who the fuck am i on the phone with?

this is sugar from 1-800-GIRLS.....a sex hotline...for you know? phone sex.

PHONE SEX?? you hear the girl's voice yell in the background, "jesse! you ass! you gave me the number to a phone sex hotline!"

"does she sound hot?"

"well yeah, but—"

hey, you do know it's $1 a minute right? you've been on the line for almost 5 minutes, babe.

HUHH?? hell no..ok thanks sugar bear, or whatever. bye!

the line clicks off, and you shrug. sitting back in your bed to continue watching your favorite netflix show. you feel your work phone vibrate again, the name flashing 'bobby', a regular who frequents the hotline.

sighing and picking up your phone and holding it to your ear, you take a bite from your sandwich as you answer your 15th call this evening, "thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, big boy?"

tuesday, 2:12am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you tonight, cutie?

hey....sugar.. i just- er- wanted to apologize for yesterday. my buddy got your number confused with a pizza place we really wanted to try. didn't mean to sound rude last night.

it's no issue, babe. don't sweat about it.

.......

soooo.... is that the only reason why you called?

ellie didn't want to admit that she was attracted to 'sugar's' voice and that she'd been thinking about it all day during class. but also, ellie was high as a fucking kite, which gave her the courage to even dial the number again anyways.

i— uh— well— how does this whole thing work?

what thing? the hotline?

yeah..

well, you call me, we have phone sex or talk or whatever, and then you hang up. again, it's a dollar a minute.

okay, okay, i get it. so we can just talk? about anything?

yeah, if you want to.

sick.

ellie takes another drag from her joint, before speaking again.

so, do you like doing this? being an operator or whatever?

you let out a laugh, which ellie caught.

specify what you mean by 'like'?

i mean— this is your job. do you enjoy doing it?

ehh...i guess.

c'mon. you can be honest with me.

well, being a sex hotline operator has it's downsides. obviously helping old men jack off gets a little weird sometimes — they have some unusual fetishes.

oh yeah? what's been the weirdest one so far?

uhhh..i have this one regular who has me pretend i'm a ghost. apparently, having sex with ghosts is a real turn on for him.

what the fuck. seriously?

mhm, it's true.

shit, dude....i don't think i could ever do what you do. i dunno how you can do it.

well when you have college tuition and rent to worry about, the downsides don't seem all that bad.

holy shit, you're in college? how old are you anyways?

19.

that's crazy. we're around the same age. i figured you were a bit older.

how 'bout you? how old are you?

21.

not bad not bad. you're way different from the clients i usually get.

yeah? how?

considering my usual clients are 40 to 60 year old men who are married with kids and have secret fetishes, i'd say you're out of my ballpark.

ellie laughs.

how do you know i'm not secretly an old, 57 year old man who's married to my wife janet with three kids? and i have a balloon fetish?

you let out a giggle, adjusting your sleep shorts as you lay back down on your bed, completely invested in your conversation with this girl.

well, how can i appease your balloon fantasies?

i'm just fuckin' with ya. definitely not a man and i have the more normal kinks and fetishes.

is that so? what are the 'normal' kinks and fetishes?

uhhhh....well i'm into bondage, i love tying girls up..i dunno, just seeing them open and vulnerable does something to me. i'm into breathplay, spitplay, overstimulation, and i'm definitely a dominant so—

all you could do was gape as the girl went on her tangent, listing off every kink she could think of. you gulped, suddenly getting a bit nervous from this topic of conversation. you were experienced in the field of phone sex, but actual sex was a totally different world you had no practice in.

so, how 'bout you sugar?

...uhhh....i'm a virgin actually.

the other girl went silent on the other side of the line.

what? but you work as a sex hotline operator.

oh yeah- but— hold on, i'm getting another call. i'll speak to you some other time.

you hung up and threw your work phone across your bed, laying your head down on your pillows. talking to men was so much easier for you, so why do you get all caught up when you talk to a girl?

it was nearly 3:30am, so you decided to turn in and call it a night, mentally preparing yourself for a busy day tomorrow.

wednesday, 11:45am

sitting next to professor adams, patiently waiting for the students to turn in their quizzes, you try to focus on the text of your 'philosophy 101' book.

you were grateful that professor adams gave you the opportunity to be his teacher's assistant for a little bit of extra cash, and you weren't complaining either. the tasks he gave you were easy for a mere $16 an hour. still, it wasn't enough to support all of your bills, so you couldn't drop the hotline gig.

"and time! everyone hand your quizzes in to my TA, regardless if you finished or not," professor announced. all the students shuffled towards the front, handing you their quizzes as you neatly put them in a small pile.

"ah shit— let me put the date on that," a girl, with a very familiar voice spoke. looking up, you're greeted with the most attractive girl you've seen in your life. she had brunette hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her right brow. was this..? no, it couldn't be. that would be insane.

handing you the paper, her hand brushes against yours. you look down at her quiz, seeing in messy, scribbled black ink the name ellie williams.

slinging her backpack on one arm, she heads out the door, "jesse! wait up for me!"

leaving you in a daze, you were completely speechless by the idea that one of your new, favorite clients from your nighttime job is actually a student at your university.

saturday, 1:45am → 1:14:34 ongoing call with 401-890-6798 (cranston, RI)

thanks, sugar. will be calling you again at the same time next week.

no problem, sir. goodnight. dream of me.

sure will, babygirl.

the line clicks as the older man hangs up, and you shudder a bit, feeling uncomfortable after having to roleplay as a ghost, again.

sighing heavily, you place your work phone on your desk and pick up your real phone, opening instagram and scrolling on your feed as you mindlessly snack on some gummy bears.

you double tap to like some of your friends pictures, wishing you were out at a party, drinking some lukewarm beer and dancing with your girls to the latest tiktok hits.

but instead you were cooped up in your apartment, dirty talking old men through their fantasies and bearing witness to their guttural groans and masturbation. it was a shame that friday and saturday nights were your busiest evenings.

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder for a moment, your finger hovering over the instagram search bar.

fuck it, you thought, typing 'ellie williams' and hitting search.

the username @_elliewilliams pops up, and bingo. it was the same girl from professor adams class.

luckily her profile was public, so you take your time carefully combing through her instagram account, mindful not to accidentally like her posts or anything.

ellie's feed consisted of smoking weed, eating out, and hanging with her friends, jesse and dina. there were only two selfies she had posted — one of her and an older gentleman and one mirror picture of her in a grey hoodie and a light brown canvas jacket that made her look so good.

the ringing from your work phone caught you off guard, causing you to jump in your chair and exit out of the instagram app. you take a look at the number, and speak of the devil, it was ellie herself. she was the only jackson number that ever contacted you.

saturday, 2:10am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, sugar speaking. what can i do for you, handsome?

hey, sugar. just wanted to apologize for how our last conversation went. i probably pushed a boundary or something— i'm not sure if you're supposed to talk about personal things with customers— so, i'm sorry.

you let out a soft laugh.

why is it when you call me, you're always apologizing?

'cause i'm a fuck up, that's why.

nooo, that's not true. besides, don't worry about it. your question just caught me off guard, you know? never had clients ask things about me before i guess.

ahh, gotcha. so...were you busy before i called?

you shake your head, even though she was on the phone and couldn't see you.

uh, not really. my line doesn't usually get busy until...12 midnight ish.. it slows down by like 2 am though. how about you? what are you up to this friday night?

i just got back home from a party. business was slow and it was getting boring, so i dipped.

business? what business?

ah— well—

ellie silently cursed to herself, not wanting to scare you away with her current occupation.

if i tell you what i do, promise you won't get freaked out or anything?

you're talking to a phone sex hotline operator. don't worry.

you can hear her laugh from the other end.

well, fuck it, cat's out of the bag. i deal weed on campus and shit.

ahhh. i like that. is that how you can afford the minutes you spend calling me?

yup. i can stay on the phone for hours if we wanted.

maybe you'll be my only customer.

i wouldn't complain.

speaking of customers, do you want me to save your number under a specific name or nickname or anything? since i'm assuming you're gonna be a regular?

trying to confirm if it was indeed ellie you were speaking with, you sat on the edge of your chair, anxiety building in your belly.

what nicknames do your clients usually pick?

uhhh. master, sir, king, mister, alpha— umm and daddy.

something stirred inside ellie hearing that last nickname roll off your tongue.

you could just put me down as ellie.

got it.

what do i call you? do i just keep calling you sugar?

well, you're a customer. you can call me anything you like, but, for formalities and privacy, i can only tell you my hotline nickname — sugar.

okay, okay, that makes sense. you're not really allowed to have any personal or close relationships with clients, huh?

no, not really. mostly for safety purposes.

ellie was a little disappointed to know that she wouldn't be able to get to know the girl she was talking to beyond calling on the phone. she already felt herself getting attached. your voice was alluring and enticing, and she couldn't help but want to hear it more, and possibly put a name and face to who it belonged to.

but, i could bend the rules a little if i really wanted to.

yeah? let's see about that.

saturday, 4:45 am → 2:43:03 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

oh my god! did you and your ex get caught??

you were enamored with ellie. the way she could keep a conversation going and the stories she told — you didn't wanna hang up.

no, no, no, luckily we hid behind a dumpsters before the cops could catch us. it's hilarious thinking about it now, but we were dumbass 18-year-olds back then.

you both were in fits of laughter, your belly aching and tears watering in the corners of your eye.

as you calmed down, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking a question that's been racking on your mind.

so, how long were you and your ex together?

uhhhh, about 2 years.

ohhh okay........are you seeing anyone right now?

ellie lets out a laugh, and you can hear her smile, even through the phone.

why? who's asking?

well, i was just— uhh—

i'm just fuckin' with you. nah, i'm not seein' anyone right now. single af.

okay, okay. good to know.

how 'bout you?

nope. i'm single too.

seriously?? how?

i dunno. just never found the right person i guess. also, working for this hotline has made me lose hope for relationships in general, some of these dudes call me and say all this stuff — while having a whole wife and family at home.

i think you're looking in the wrong place then. try talking to people at school or going out to parties—

can't. if i'm not doing homework or studying, i'm working and doing this. i gotta make a living somehow.

ellie couldn't help but feel bad, knowing if she could, she'd support you full time and take that weight off your shoulders.

hmm, maybe you'll meet someone who could support you and take care of your bills and stuff.

oh? where would i find that? sounds too good to be true.

maybe they're closer to you than you think.

your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say next.

i— uh— i have to go. it's 5am.

oh— uh— yeah. of course. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

sunday, 11:37pm → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

hey.

hey. where's your usual greeting?

you're not a usual customer, so i think we're past that now, ellie.

ellie's heart thumped in her chest hearing you say her name.

good. anyways, what are you up to tonight?

just studying for a quiz tomorrow morning. how about you?

smoking, just finished some homework.

what class was it for?

uhhh, just this calculus class.

you clamped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp. it was for professor adams class.

....uhhh, i could never get calculus. it's so hard.

yeah? maybe one night i can tutor you.

i'd be a terrible student.

i think you'd be the perfect student. i can teach you, i got you.

you couldn't help but think there was another meaning behind her words, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions. it would be embarrassing if you got her message all wrong.

what's your quiz on anyways?

energy transfer between cells, it's for biology.

i know a thing or two about that. here— why don't we do this, just explain to me what you know and we'll go from there.

okay, i can do that.

you and ellie spent the next two and a half hours talking about cell function and energy transfer and everything else in between, with her correcting you and adding in important things you missed.

alright, sugar, i think you're ready for this quiz tomorrow.

you think so?

i know so. you're such a smart girl.

there she goes again, praising you.

uh, th-thanks.

don't worry, okay? i know you'll do great.

a smile curls on your lips, flustered from all her support.

you should get some sleep, so you can be focused and ready for tomorrow.

m'kay. thank you, ellie, for all your help.

of course. always. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

monday, 5:32pm → 45:21 ongoing call with mister j (corpus christi, TX)

yeah, babe? you want me to fuck your tight ass?

mhm, yes mister.

c'mon. beg, sugar.

please. fuck my tight hole, mister j.

ah, hell.

you can hear his belt buckle clanging, and the soft buzz of a zipper.

what's wrong with 'ya tonight, sugar? you're bein' a real buzzkill, 'ya know that? fuckin' turnin' me off and makin' me soft.

i-i'm sorry, mister j. please, jus—

yea, yea, save it. we'll jus' try 'gain tomorrow.

the line clicks on the other end. tossing your work phone on your desk, you fall back on your bed and stuff your face in your pillow. weeping into the plush material, you let yourself fall apart and break down.

but your sobbing session is cut short as you can hear the familiar ring of your work phone.

wiping your tears, you walk over to your desk and answer.

monday, 5:45pm → 00:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

thanks for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's suga-

woah, woah, woah are you crying?

e-ellie?

yeah, baby, it's me. sounds like you're crying. what's going on? talk to me.

today was just a really, really bad day and then i opened my hotline a little early and one of my first clients just lashed out on me because i wasn't responding the way he wanted me to and—

you sniffle.

— and i'm just really stressed out by everything going on in my life right now.

i'm sorry. i wish there was something i could do— someway i could comfort you or take the weight off.

i-it's fine, ellie. talking to you is making it a little better.

ellie was silent for a moment, thinking carefully and planning her next moves accordingly.

do you trust me?

....y-yea, of c-course. why?

i'm gonna help you ease the tension. okay?

okay.

first of all, where are you?

i-in my room, sitting at my desk.

okay. go lay down on your bed.

with your phone pressed to your ear, you pick up your legs and stride over to your bed, laying down on the fluffy, material of your blanket.

okay, i'm on my bed.

good. what are you wearing?

foreseeing the direction this phone call was heading in, apprehension builds in your stomach.

ellie, you really don't have to-

hey, i want to help you. if that's okay with you. if not, we could talk about something instead.

biting your lip, you fold.

i-i'm okay with it, but i-i've never— played with myself with a customer before. i don't really do anything with myself even when i'm not working anyways.

that's okay. don't think of me as a customer, think of me as a...teacher. i got you, remember?

okay.

good girl. now, what are you wearing?

uh.. a tank top and shorts.

cute. take them off.

gulping, you follow her orders, shimmying out of your top and shorts.

done?

mhm.

good. so obedient.

i want you to rub your boobs for me. rub your nipples, pull on them, just feel the skin under your hand for me, baby.

rubbing the soft skin along your breast, and tugging on your hardened nipples, you bite your lip, savoring the way your body feels under your touch.

how does it feel?

feels good.

bet it does.

ellie couldn't stop her mind from imagining you, on your bed, perfectly naked. and how she'd give everything up, just to sneak a peek.

now, i want you to just rub your hands against the sensitive parts of your body. be slow and gentle, we're not rushing anything.

as your hands drift from your neck, down to the hills of your breasts, and to the edge of your panties, ellie speaks through the line again.

doesn't it feel nice, baby?

mhm.

wish i could be there, to watch you, touching your pussy.

you instinctively clamp your thighs, feeling heat rush to your core.

alright, take your panties off. slowly.

you slowly peel the piece of material off, looking at the small, wet spot that formulated on your underwear.

okay, they're off.

such a good girl, following my every command.

you gulp, her nickname for you sending shivers up your spine.

slowly feel the skin on your legs. stroke your inner thighs, tease yourself a little.

hanging off on her every word, you let out a shaky breath, the heat in your cunt growing only bigger and bigger.

god, i wish i can be there to see this right now. bet you look so good, thighs spread apart, pussy all wet— all because of me.

i- i'm aching. i need more, ellie.

i know, baby, i know. i wish i can help you more. if it were up to me, i'd have you bent over your desk, taking you from the back. fuck.

your mind drifts to that image, of her fucking you, taking you as hers. a stream of your slick begins to leak out from your pussy. god, you wanted her so bad.

slide a finger between your pussy, baby. let me hear how wet you are.

spreading your thighs apart, the tip of your fingers slips in between the folds of your pussy lips, the slick sound of your wetness echoing throughout the room. loud enough for ellie to hear.

fuuuuuck.

you tried to speak, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic whimper. ellie's brain was going insane, she couldn't believe where she had you, writhing from her mere words.

go ahead, pretty girl. rub slow circles on your clit.

the pads of your pointer and middle finger gently rub steady, figure 8's against your hardened nub. closing your eyes, you imagined ellie, and how it was her hand instead of yours. the thought had you panting, faint breaths releasing from your parted lips.

your pussy sounds so wet, holy shit. you sound so fucking good for me. so fucking perfect.

as your fingers continue massaging on your sopping, wet clit, a pool of wetness gathers right below your ass.

how does it feel, baby?

f-feels amazing, ellie.

you let out a low whimper.

i wish you were here.

me too, pup. me too.

you can hear her heavy breaths from the other end of the phone.

i wish i could be there, kissing your neck. trailing my lips down to suck on your nipples. fuuck, wanna taste every inch of your skin. i wanna feel your pussy tighten around my fingers.

you let out another pitiful moan, only to hear ellie curse under her breath again.

rub your pussy faster for me, angel. imagine it's me, pumping my fingers in and out. would daddy's pretty girl like that?

you couldn't respond. all you could let out was these weak whines, yearning for ellie and her touch. you added a third finger, building onto the pressure and picking up the speed.

your moans sound so pretty. wonder how'd they sound when you're taking my strap. gonna have you cry out my name, yeah? isn't that right?

mhm, yes, daddy.

good. that's what daddy likes to hear, such a polite girl.

with your eyes rolling back, you could feel your orgasm building.

i-i'm gonna— ellie, i—

you gonna cum for me, puppy? huh? c'mon, rub faster, baby. i know you have a little bit more left in you.

your fingers speed up, the sound of your wetness gushing out reverberated in ellie's ear.

oh my god, daddy can i? please? can i—

arching your back, you knew you were close. the feeling was getting to be too much and you were about to fall over the edge.

look at my baby, so respectful and asking permission. come on, pretty puppy. cum for daddy. let daddy hear how good she made you feel.

that was it. letting out a penetrating moan, you rode your orgasm out and finished all over your fingers, making a mess. you were heaving, chest rapidly rising and falling.

god, i made a mess.

oh, yeah? do one more thing for me. suck your fingers clean. puppies clean up their messes.

monday, 8:57pm → 3:01:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

after your little self-care session with ellie, she took it upon herself to get your mind off of today's events, filling your conversation with stories and interesting topics.

oh, forgot to ask, what'd you end up getting on that biology quiz?

ughhh, i got a 65 out of 100. one of the reasons why i was so upset today.

seriously? how?

i don't know! i asked professor gonzalez and she told me that i was focusing on the wrong thi-

wait, did you just say professor gonzalez? holy shit, you're taking biology 201 with professor g? do you fucking go to school at university of wyoming? in jackson?

oh shit, you didn't mean for that to slip out.

i— uh— i have to go—

wait! sugar! please. hear me out.

you stay silent, waiting for what she had to say.

if we really do go to the same campus, please, let's meet up. i really want to see you.

.....why?

i just— i love talking to you. spending hours with you on the phone is what i look forward to when i get home. besides, i really want to take you out, on a date.

you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.

listen, if you want to see me too, meet me at the library in building B, by the comic book section. okay? tomorrow at 1pm.

....

i really hope you come.

the line clicks off, and you spend the rest of the night restless, tossing and turning, debating whether or not to see her tomorrow.

tuesday, 2:50pm

ellie eagerly checked her phone again, bouncing her knee in distress. her mind was running rampant — fuck, she's not gonna come. maybe jesse was right. maybe i was wasting my time.

looking up for the 80th time, she scans the comic book section, seeing no one else but some dude with his face buried in a wonder woman comic.

as ellie gets up from her chair, she turns her head, and she freezes.

there you were, looking like an angel who entered from the garden of eden. ellie's heart sped up, seeing her girl standing before her. you were everything she could've imagined and better.

walking slowly towards the brunette, you brush a piece of hair from your face, and smile meekly.

"hi ellie, it's me."

pls let me know how this fic was, i tried out a new writing style & read pt 2 here <3

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst

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hypewinter · 8 months

Text

Jason had been sitting in his living room, maintenancing his weapons when a circle appeared before him. It was big and swirling. It's hue very much akin to the sickening green of the Lazarus pits. He quickly realized the circle was in fact a portal as a teen stepped out of it. The teen wore surgical gloves and a mask over what appeared to be a hazmat suit. His hair was silver and seemed unaffected by gravity. Worse of all though, were his eyes that were that same damn color that Jason had long since grown to hate.

Jason grabbed two guns that were not currently taken apart and aimed them at the boy, taking a menacing step forward as he did so. "Who are you?" he growled. "What do you want?"

To his surprise, the boy didn't threaten him or gloat about some massive plan already under way. He didn't even offer some sort of vague, cryptic advice. Instead, the teen actually took a step back, covering his nose with one arm while putting the other up in surrender.

"Don't come any close!" he yelped. "The stench is already bad enough from here."

Jason blinked. What? "Excuse me?" was all he could utter.

The boy turned away slightly and dry heaved. "Ugh, so nasty."

Jason was having trouble figuring out what was going on. Even with his detective training. "Did you- did you just call me nasty?" he finally managed to splutter out.

The boy turned back to him, his eyes crinkling in utter disgust. "Uh, yeah. What else would you call a flea infested rat?"

"Flea infested-" Jason squawked.

"Listen could you just come with me so that we can get all of that taken care of asap," the boy said, gesturing towards Jason.

Regaining his composure a little, Jason tightened his grip on his weapons. "Hell no! I'm not going anywhere with you until you start explaining."

Despite having two guns pointed at his head, the teen only let out a deep sigh.

"Fine, have it your way." He replied, stepping towards Jason. The vigilante heard the kid mumbling, "You can do this. Think of it as handling a stinky baby. A very disease infested stinky baby," as he got closer and closer.

Jason fired off a warning shot next to the kid but the boy didn't even flinch. Fine, Jason thought. We can do this the hard way. He aimed at the boy's knee cap and fired. Only for the bullet to pass right through him. The boy neared him before picking him up like an unruly kitten. Jason went limp as he officially stopped processing what was happening. How the hell had this kid managed to lift him so effortlessly?

He didn't put up a fight as the boy turned around and led them both back through the portal, his arms outstretched as far away from his torso as possible. Jason's mind had just barely started to process information again when this weird furry, horned creature appeared in front of him.

"Ah Great One! You've returned," it said.

"Yeah yeah just hurry up and take this from me before I throw up!" the teen replied, setting Jason down and distancing himself.

The creature fixed the boy with a stern look. "That is not how we treat patients, Great One. Need I remind you? It was you who wanted to be my apprentice and all that entails. That includes treating our patients with the utmost professionalism. Regardless of your personal feelings."

The teen actually had the nerve to look sheepish, maybe even a little guilty. As if he hadn't just spent the last 5 minutes mercilessly insulting Jason.

The two continued talking for a time and Jason was more than happy to let them. It gave him time to process what the hell he was looking at and with any luck, they would let slip some crucial information. Instead however, they ended up discussing more about whatever this apprenticeship was before the weird looking creature turned back towards Jason.

"Apologies for the rudeness my apprentice has shown you," he said.

Jason muttered out an 'uh huh' in response.

The creature clapped his hands. "Now then, shall we get you examined?"

Examined? Jason staring blankly at the creature. Then he stared at the teen, hoping to gleam any info from their facial expressions. Nothing. And of course he did have his comms or his sos signal on him. Great, just great. What an absolutely craptastic situation he found himself in. He'd be sure to come back and haunt Bruce this time. Maybe even Dick. He swore that much.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales

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mistiell · 1 year

Text

I'm Starvin', Darlin'

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: Spencer realizes how touch starved he is when you, the newest member of the BAU, develop a habit of casually touching him throughout the day.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, bit of a misunderstanding towards the end, this hasn't been proofread so I might come back to correct some things later

A/N: So, I have been like, completely MIA for the passed few months, and I apologize for that. Life has been hectic and I haven't had any motivation. However, I'm back now! At least for a little while. This is my first fic for Spencer but I hope to write more for him in the future. There'l definitely be a part two to this sometime in the future, so look out for that.

Part 2

Spencer has never been one for physical affection.

Logically he knows that he needs a certain amount of it to survive, and he doesn’t particularly mind it anymore when Morgan claps him on the back or when he has to shake somebody’s hand. But when he’s pulled in for a hug, there’s this weird sort of anxiety that makes him worry about whether or not he’s holding on too tight or how long he can stay there without making it awkward. He’ll endure it if he thinks a hug would be the best way to comfort someone, but typically, he avoids them altogether.

That was, until you came along.

It was sunny out, and for the first time in a while, the blinds in the bullpen were pulled open to let the sun shine in. Spencer was sitting at his desk, flipping through his mound of paperwork when JJ had led you over to your new desk, right across from his. JJ had caught his attention to introduce you, but the moment he laid eyes on you, whatever she was saying went in one ear and out the other

You had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life.

“Spence.” JJ’s voice snapped him back into reality and he was suddenly acutely aware of how long he’d been staring.

“Hm?” You’d giggled at his dumbstruck expression and he swore he’d do anything to make you laugh like that again.

JJ stared at him expectantly for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and gesturing to you again, “I said, this is Agent L/n. She’s our newest member.”

“Oh, right, um, I’m Sp-Spencer Reid. Er– Doctor Spencer Reid.” He was halfway through mentally berating himself when you smiled oh so kindly at him, extending your hand.

“Y/n L/n. It’s nice to meet you, doctor.”

“Oh, um, you can just call me Reid.”

“Right.” You very obviously looked him up and down in a way that made his heart race, “Reid.”

And then you sat down at your desk.

And he had to sit there and pretend he wasn’t utterly and entirely flustered by that tiny, microscopic interaction.

He came to realize about a month into your friendship that you were a touchy person by nature. You’d touch his arm when he made you laugh and sometimes you’d squeeze his shoulder before you sat down next to him at the round table. Six months into your career there and you’d gotten comfortable enough that you’d hug most of them when you showed up for drinks outside of work and playfully pinch Morgan’s arm or side when he got a little too brazen with his flirting. Sometimes you’d bump Spencer’s shoulder to tease him. It took a few times to get used to it, but eventually he started bumping you back.

Actually, he found that the more you touched him, the less he seemed to dislike it. In fact, he finds himself waiting for those casual displays of affection. Every time your skin meets his, he feels warm, revitalized.

Which is why on one particularly late night, when he’s utterly exhausted and the two of you are the only ones in the office, he feels comfortable enough to do what he’s about to do.

He thinks about it for a long while, never one to do anything like this without properly thinking it through. He’s just so tired and this case was so draining that, as pathetic as he thinks it is, he finds himself wanting to ask for a hug.

He won’t. He’s not that confident yet. But he thinks that maybe there’s another way to get away with touching you in some capacity.

So he rolls his chair over to your desk, attempting to casually plop down next to you so his side is practically pressed against yours. To his surprise, it actually works, though his casual “plop” is more like a rather awkward “slip-and-almost-accidentally-knock-you-over”. But you don’t mind. Instead, you laugh and bump his shoulder a lot more gently than he bumped you.

“Watch it, clumsy.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles, awkwardly clearing his throat, “What are you working on?”

“The mountain of paperwork that’s been accumulating since I got here.” You huff a short, embarrassed puff of laughter as you glance down at a notepad he hadn’t noticed, “That, and doodling.”

“Doodling what?” He asks, though he wonders how much he’s actually going to be able to pay attention when he’s so focused on how warm your thigh and shoulder feel against his.

“Oh, um,” Is he crazy or are you blushing? “It’s embarrassing.”

“I won’t judge.” After a split second of deliberation, he gently shifts his weight into his shoulder to nudge you just a little.

“Promise?” You smile shyly and he can’t help but smile back.

“Promise.”

There’s a second where you hesitate before sliding the pad over for him to see. He uses his middle and index finger to drag it over a little more and what he’s met with makes his cheeks warm and his heart flutter about in his chest.

It’s him.

You’ve drawn him at just about every angle, and in such detail that he wonders if you were trying to downplay your abilities or if this is really your definition of doodling. It’s clear you’ve done most of these by memory only because he’s had his head bent over his desk for the past few hours, and most of these are full views of his face. They’re unbelievably accurate, and he realizes you must look at him enough to have his facial features memorized.

“I-I know they’re not great, and I messed up your lips in a couple, but, uh–.”

“Wow.” He breathes in such genuine wonder that you cut yourself off. He looks up at you, a strange, viscous warmth weaving in between his ribs and settling to swirl in his stomach in such a way that it makes him feel a little sick. But, even more strangely, in a good way. He catches himself staring and quickly looks back at your artwork with a flustered smile, “I-I’m flattered. This is… I mean, you’re amazing.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, heat creeps up his neck and he rushes to correct himself, “I-I mean your work is amazing. Not that you aren’t amazing, because you are, but–.”

“Spence.” This time, it’s his turn to cut himself off. That’s the first time you’ve ever called him that.

And fuck, if he isn’t a goner.

You place your hand over his and his heart leaps into his throat, “Thank you.”

“Y-Yeah.” He’s so lost in your eyes that it comes out a whisper. With a little flush of confidence, he turns his hand palm up in yours to squeeze your fingers before hastily pulling away to avoid you noticing how clammy his hands are.

After that night, he finds himself seeking you out a lot more. Knocking his knee against yours under the table, tapping you to get your attention rather than just calling your name.

It isn’t until you’re both out with the team that he realizes he hasn’t been as discreet as he thought he’d been. He’s had a few drinks and is a little more than tipsy, which is never a good thing with how much alcohol loosens his lips. Especially when you’re sitting right next to him, definitely more sober than he is.

“Pretty boy, when did you get so comfortable with people touching you?” Derek asks, earning a rather confused look from the man in question. Before he gets a chance to respond, you’re asking exactly what he’d been thinking.

“What do you mean?” By the way he’s looking between the two of you, Spencer assumes Derek is referring to the way you’re pressed against his side – or rather, how he’s pressed against yours, considering he’s the one who leaned practically his whole body weight into your side the moment you sat down.

“You don’t know?” Emily asks, and you shake your head, “He doesn’t like touching anyone.” A knowing smirk creeps up on her face as she locks eyes with him, “Or at least he normally doesn’t.”

“Oh.” Is all you say in response. He doesn’t like the sadness in your tone, and he especially dislikes the way you shift away from him to give him space. There’s a rather startling urge to wrap his arm around you and pull you back to him, but he shuts that down immediately, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“Do you remember that time he dodged a handshake by telling the guy it would be safer for them to kiss?” Penelope giggles, clearly drunk at this point.

“You weren’t even there.” Spencer counters, laughing a little to diffuse the tension. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and notices that your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

You’re a little too quiet the rest of the night. At one point, you leave for the bathroom and when you return, you slide your purse in between the two of you to keep a safe distance.

He hates it.

He hates it even more when you stop him outside the bar with an apologetic look on your face as you’re all leaving.

“Hey, Spence?”

He swallows the butterflies in his throat that surface at the nickname, “Yeah?”

“I, uh,” You clear your throat awkwardly, “I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you uncomfortable with all the, um… touching.”

He opens his mouth to tell you he really, really doesn’t mind it, but you accidentally cut him off, “I didn’t even consider that you might not be comfortable with it, and that was really inconsiderate of me. Now that I know, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. I’ll be sure to uh, keep my hands to myself.” You titter, glancing at your shoes sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s okay–.” He’s cut off again, this time by Emily, who’s yours and Garcia’s designated driver for the evening. “L/n! You coming?” She calls with a smile.

“Yeah!” You call back, before turning back to him. He watches you almost lean in for a hug, and a pang of disappointment stabs at his chest when you stop yourself in favour of nodding at him with a smile, “I’ll see you next week, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Is all he has time to say before you’re climbing into the backseat of Emily’s car.

He is seriously dreading going into work on Monday.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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chxrryhansen · 2 months

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𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁 𝐀𝐔

Pairing; Dark!Club Owner Ari x Shy!Reader

Warnings; dark themes, unbalanced power dynamic, daddy kink, no smut in this part but as usual Minors Please DNI!!

Summary; You knew it was a bad idea showing up to the most notorious club in the city, but it’s your best friend’s birthday and you can’t say no, right? So, what happens when the owner himself, Ari Levinson, spots you at the bar, claiming you as his own from the moment he laid eyes on you.

It’s finally here! The first instalment of my very first series, apologies for no smut but i promise the next part will be very smutty to make up for it 👀 bare in mind this is just the introduction!!! please don’t be afraid to ask questions and remember to reblog and comment💗 i love to hear your guys feedback!

You climb out of the uber, reaching to pull the hem of your dress down as you and your friends stumble towards the club.

You had finally agreed to try out the biggest club in the city, "Cherry Bomb.” Since it was your best friend Sarah's birthday your group decided it was only fair she could choose which clubs you were going to tour for the night. You had been putting it off ever since the opening night a few months ago, the reputation not being something you had particularly wished to be involved with.

All you knew was bad things happened there, and from what you had heard the owners, Ari Levinson and Lloyd Hansen, two brothers in arms, were so cruel and unforgiving that even the richest men in the city dared not to step foot in the place, and those who did shortly regretted it. Their names were known around the streets, the most notorious club owners to exist, 70% of clubs in the city all belonging to them, more money under their belt than the government itself.

An incident a few weeks back had became the talk of the town, according to Sarah a well known patron had gotten a little handsy with one of the clubs dancers and when he was given a warning to back off, he refused. Claiming he spent enough money in the club grounds to do as he pleased, including groping innocent dancers without permission.

Long story short the bouncers ended up forcibly removing the man, cussing and struggling on his way out of course, you know, the usual druken male rage and feeling of entitlement. Seemed like a pretty convenient coincidense that the exact same night the man was found beaten to a bloody pulp in a back alley, his face practically unrecognisible.

It wasn't long before the 'rumour' was quickly snuffed out. They were good at that, making things.. people, dissapear. Almost as if it never happened... as if they never exhisted.

Now that you were standing infront of it, you couldn't deny, it was beautiful. Even from the outside, the bright neon sign glowing in the moonlight, multiple bouncers blocking the large glass stained doors, making sure to check each persons id before unhooking the stanchion, allowing said persons entry. The queue seeming endless.

Lucky for you, your friends had been gifted VIP tickets, you didn't even bother to ask who they got those from, or how. You didn't want to know. You flashed your id at the pretty bouncer, his buzzed hair, large muscles and stern face making it quite obvious as to why he had the job he did.

You bounced your foot as he scanned over your card before opening the barrier and letting you inside. Sarah was quick to grip each of your hands, practically dragging you inside once you began to hesitate, not wanting you to change your mind so soon.

"Come on, babe, let's get those sweet legs moving!" Sarah hollers from ahead, her hand intertwined with your own as the rest of the girls hurried towards a booth.

"I-I don't know if this is a good idea, Sare.." you mumbled, fiddling with your fingers as she tugged you towards your friends and giving you a slight nudge into the cushioned seats, the red velvet material instantly soothing your hot thighs as you sat.

She reached down, holding your cheeks in both hands and facing you towards herself, sliding into the booth next to you "Listen, i know you're worried and if it makes you feel better i promise we can leave and go somewhere else, but just give it a try, please...for me?" she pleaded, giving you her famous puppy dog eyes.

"You know i can't resist that face." you whined as she cheered.

As you slowly got more drunk you began to forget why you didn't want to visit. The atmosphere was astronomical, the whole club being fit for royalty. The girls hooted and hollered as you trotted off towards the bar on your way to buy in a round of drinks. You waited at the bar with your card in hand but as you went to hand it over to the bartender he paused you.

“It’s on the house.” he says while he wipes down the bar with a rag, a smile on his face. He was handsome in all fairness, standing at around 6'2, his bright blonde locks and pretty blue eyes causing you to pause for a moment before giving him a puzzled look, tilting your head sideways.

“Is it a nightly special or something? I didn’t see anything about free drinks on the poster outside…” you begin yet he’s already scuttling off to take another couples order, shooting you a sly smile over his shoulder. Leaving you even more confused than before.

You slowly reach for the tray of shots when you feel a large hand on your shoulder, causing you to spin around in shock, ready to fight off any unwanted men. You pause yet again, having to look up to catch the mans face.

His 6’5 form towers over your much smaller figure, dressed in a dark purple suit and tie, his pearly blues shining in the colourful strobe lights, looking down at you with a slight smirk. His dark beard covered most of his face and his long curtains framed his godly sculpted face. Even with his suit on his arms bulged through the material, his thick biceps almost bigger than your head.

You shortly snapped out of your daze as his leather gloved hand squeezed your arm. “C-Can i help you, sir?” you stammered, worried incase you had been caught gauking.

He laughs “Not even a thankyou, Sweetheart? I thought you’d have better manners than that.” he teases, his rough voice sending shivers down your spine. You stutter as you try to find your words, seeming as they were lodged in the back of your throat.

“I’m kidding, name’s Ari…you gonna’ give me the curtesy of knowing yours or you just gonna’ keep starin’ at me with those pretty eyes?”

“A-Ari as in… Levinson?” you question, swallowing harshly as the nerves quickly built in your stomach.

He shakes his head gently with a smirk "So you know me, huh?"

Your eyes widen at the realisation of who the mystery man is, your arms instantly beginning to shake, your card still in hand. You were never good at dealing with situations such as this one, always being labled as the 'shy girl' of your group. Sarah being the complete opposite. Usually men in this situation would back off, sensing your uncomfortable trembles and leaving you alone, but not Ari. If anything the smirk on his face grew wider at the sense of your fear.

"Steve, why don't you head over to booth two, give the girls their shots." Ari calls out towards the handsome bartender from earlier.

The man, Steve, is at your side in an instant "No prob man, have fun you two." he winks, collecting the glasses and sauntering off with a wink.

Ari shakes his head with a laugh, “Why don’t you come with me.” he leans down to whisper in your ear. The vibration of his vocals in your ears sending shivers down your spine before he struts forwards, holding out his thick palm for you to grab on to, and almost as if your in a trance, you begin to trail behind him without hesitation. Sliding your smaller palm into his own as he led you through the club.

Your nerves never allowed you to talk much, or make your own decisions, that being the reason you followed the stranger without any question asked, which is exactly why Sare was usually always there to do it for you. But, your drunken confidence had allowed you to go to the bar alone, which you were beginning to really regret. Your confidence being blown out of the park as the attractive beast watched you from infront with a careful eye.

Shortly you arried at the unknown destination, trailing nervously behind Ari as he unlocked a large door, which was infact bolted shut. He pushed open the door, looking down at you, edging you to enter, and so you did. Your eyes lit up as they searched the vast room, expensive furnature lining the room, bottles of champagne worth more than your house filling the cupboards above his desk.

Ari pushed the door closed, moving to sit on a cushioned purple chair, his thick thighs spread wide as he removed his gloves, pouring himself, and you, a glass of his finest drink. His cold eyes beckoned you forwards, your legs shaking as you stepped towards him, standing inbetween his spread legs.

He patted his thigh with one hand "Sit." he called out, his voice sweet yet stern.

You looked at him shocked, your lips parting slightly, were you really going to sit on his lap? A man you just met? Who you didn't even know? "I-I don't think i should Mr Levinson." you whispered.

His eyes grew shades darker at your refusal, not even giving you time to debate your decisions he reached out, gripping your waist in his thick palm and pulling you down, sitting you sideways on his lap as you gasp in shock. His other hand pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear as you squirmed under the pressure.

"Pretty girl, next time i ask you to do something, you do it. No questions asked. You understand?" he asked in a low growl.

You swallowed your nerves and nodded gently under his deep gaze, your body trembling.

"Ah ah, words baby."

"Yes, M-Mr Levinson, I-I understand."

Ari groaned underneath his breath, not understanding how lucky he had gotten that a pretty little thing like you would just waltse right in at the perfect moment, almost as if you were made for him. Like a lamb in a lions den. "As much as i love the way you say my name, call me Ari, sweet girl."

Again, you followed his command. "Yes, Ari."

"Good girl." he rumbled, pulling your bottom lip gently inbetween his index and thumb, loving the way you felt on his lap. Your innocence and submissive nature automatically triggering his dominance, his cock growing hard in his slacks as your plump ass squirmed on his knee.

You keened at his praise, a fluttery feeling appearing in your lower half. Of course Ari noticed this, the way your pussy pulsated on his thigh told him all he needed to know.

"You ever been with a man before, sweetheart?" Ari asks while he strokes your hair, not even having to shout due to the soundproof room blocking out the clubs music.

"Um, n-no i haven't, my Grandma wouldn't really approve of that sort of stuff, she said i should wait till m-marriage." you whisper shyly.

Ari blows out a puff of air at your innocence, desperately trying to control himself. All he wants is to ruin you, in every way you can imagine, and more. He smirks, leaning into your shoulder, pressing his nose against your sensitive neck and taking a deep inhale. Groaning softly, your sweet scent driving his instincts wild.

"Your Grandma seems like a very smart lady, little girl. You live with just her, huh?"

"Yeah, i never really knew my m-mom and dad, and my grandpa died shorly after i was born s-so it's pretty much always just been me and her. She does her best to take care of me, taught me everything i know." you speak with a bright smile, Ari notices how your stutter stopped when talking about her, he thought it was sweet, how much you must care about her.

However, the dark side of his mind was quick to take a seat, the realisation that you never had a father figure making his cock impossibly harder. Knowing he could be that for you, and knowing you needed a strong man like him in your life to make all those decisions for you.

"I think i changed my mind, baby. Why don't you call me daddy from now on, mkay?" he spoke softly, yet the edge in his tone still clear.

"D-Daddy?" you muttered, confused as to why he would want you to call him that.

He moaned hearing your sweet voice call him by his new found title. Taking a deep breath, he sighed, choosing not to elaborate on his previous statement. "Good girl. I'm gonna' take care of you from now on, yeah? Anything you need, you come to me. Pass me your phone, sweet girl."

"Oh, i-i don't have a phone.. daddy."

Ari's eyebrows knit together softly "You don't have a phone? Why not?"

You shake your head, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "We uhm, w-we can't really afford that sort of stuff."

"Well that just won't do." he speaks in a teasing tone, tickling your waist making you giggle softly.

Suddenly a loud bang causes you to shoot upright, you quickly dash off Ari's lap, moving to stand away from him, his office door slamming shut as a tall moustached man enters. Your eyes widen in fright, knowing how violent the man standing infront of you truly was. You knew who he was too, Sare had told you plenty of stories about the cruel Lloyd Hansen. You often wondered if he even had a soul.

"Man it's fuckin' packed down there, what the fuck are you doing up here." the man groans, not even noticing you until he turns. He lifts his sunglasses, staring you down, his eyes scanning over your figure, pausing and licking his lips at the soft flesh beneath the cut of your dress, your pretty pink dress having ridden up your thighs.

"Lloyd." Ari bellows, sighing in annoyance at his disruption.

A smirk similar to Ari's appears on the man, Lloyd's, face. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he speaks in a sultry voice. He begins his descent in your direction and the second gets a little too close, Ari shoots up out of his seat, moving to stand infront of you. A low rumble vibrating through his chest.

Ari stood slightly taller than Lloyd, with broader shoulders and thicker legs, the muscles in his back visible as he stood infront of you, almost as if he was protecting you, a hand wrapped around your hips rubbing his thumb in circular motions over your dress….and of course the most important detail, his luscious full beard compared to Lloyds 90s porn stache. They stared each other down, asserting some sort of dominance over one another… Ari seemingly winning as Lloyd begins to back up.

He lets out a chuckle, lifting his hands in a surrender position, taking a few steps back. "I mean no harm, just wanna' ask the pretty girl for her name, s'all."

You begin to quiver yet again, Lloyd's presence scaring you back into your shell. His dangerous aura sending goosebumps across your trembling figure. "I-I think i sh-should go." you whisper, tugging at the hem of your dress in a desperate attempt to calm your nerves.

"Don't move, sweets. Lloyd. Get the fuck out of here man." Ari bellows.

“I think you’ll find this club is mine just as much as it is yours, big bro. C’mon. Introduce me to the beauty.” he chucked yet again, probably at Ari’s fury. Steam was practically pouring out of his ears at this point. He didn’t even want Lloyd looking at you, nevermind talking to you.

“I mean it Lloyd get the fuck outta’ here man-“

Before he can stop you, you make a quick dash for the door and at the sound of Ari's resistance your legs carry you quicker than you could've ever imagined. Not looking back once as you pull the door open, swiftly shutting the door behind you.

You take a deep, your chest heaving at the stress of the situation, wiping your sweaty hands on your dress and making your descent down the club stairs, shaking your head in confusion and fear, eager to find your friends, craving their comfort and hearing a hushed "You fuckin' asshole." in the distance.

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barcaatthemoon · 15 days

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harmless || alexia putellas x reader ||

you do a little harmless flirting with alexia when your teams play against each other's.

playing against barcelona felt like a dream come true. so much about this year's champion's league tournament was like that. this was the first one that you were getting to play in with your team, the one that you had been signed to since you could sign a senior contract. you were loyal, having absolutely no intentions of going elsewhere in the world to play. although, barcelona had made some very convincing offers to you.

your teammates and coaches were grateful that you had declined, despite your agent's urgency towards you signing elsewhere. you were crazy to give up barcelona, especially since there was so much for you to learn from them. the way that they played soccer had always fascinated you to no end, it felt far more efficient than anything you could think to do.

"hola," you greeted alexia in the tunnel. she glanced over at you, a small smile on her face. "i'm (y/n)."

"i know, i've seen you play before. you're very good," alexia complimented. you blushed at her compliment, turning your head away in a feeble attempt to hide it.

"thank you. you're also very good, like the best in the world," you told her. alexia had a little smirk on her face, but you could see the way her ears got pink. for a moment, you thought that she looked a little unfocused, and you got an idea. "i didn't think it was possible to see such beauty and talent in one person."

alexia forced herself to keep her eyes off of you. you felt a little smug as you walked out of the tunnel. whenever you had to shake alexia's hand before the game, you shot her a wink, one that didn't go unnoticed by a couple of her teammates. immediately, alexia got extremely flustered, only boostering your confidence for the game.

you were no stranger to playing some mind games. flirting with alexia whenever the two of you met up in the midfield was easy. it was even easier whenever the two of you ended up marking each other for a corner. alexia was bigger than you, so she should have won the challenge, but all you had to do was let out a gasp when she grabbed at your hips for her to back away.

you felt like you were getting away with everything when frido cornered you at halftime. she walked right up to you and pushed at your shoulder to get your attention. "what the fuck is all that with alexia?"

"there's nothing going on with alexia." there was no point in you even trying to deny it. frido knew you well enough to know exactly what was going on. she gave you a stern look, one that had you almost shrinking back into yourself. "fine, i might be flirting with your captain a little, but a little flirting never hurt anybody."

"do not start something that you don't intend to see through, okay? she's going through a hard time right now, and you playing with her feelings today isn't going to help. she's already beating herself up for having a 'bad game' because of your bullshit, kid," frido warned. you agreed to back off, and followed her over to apologize to alexia.

"hey," you greeted alexia cautiously.

"hola, shouldn't you be with your team?" alexia questioned. you shrugged. there was going to be a pep talk, one that would hopefully help you to kick some ass, but the pep talks were not your duty anymore.

"they'll be fine, i don't give the pep talks," you told her. alexia nodded as she pointed over towards her bench. you noticed that a group of the younger players were working to hype up everybody else. "i'm not making you uncomfortable, am i?"

"not so much uncomfortable as you are a distraction," alexia confessed. you smirked a little, genuinely surprised that alexia would get distracted by you of all people. "it'd really help if you maybe saved it for somewhere else. i mean, i am trying to work here."

"well, i'm just repaying the favor. you're pretty distracting too," you teased. alexia huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"i'm not trying to, you are. you have got to stop trying to distract me while i'm at work," alexia countered. your face fell for a moment as you realized that she had a point. "maybe if you behave, i'll buy you dinner tonight."

"alright, but i want to see the best that barcelona's got to offer," you said. alexia agreed to those terms, unaware that you were literally just talking about her.

…

"are you sure that this is where we have to end this?" you asked alexia with a small pout on your face. while her team went out to celebrate their win, alexia had opted to take you to dinner instead. you didn't have a lot of hope for a long distance relationship, but you were still a little optimistic. there was something about alexia that made you want to make things work.

"you have an early flight tomorrow, and i do not like sex on the first date," alexia told you. she cradled your face in her hands and ran her thumb across your bottom lip. "i will see you again, yes?"

"definitely," you promised her. alexia smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. you eagerly shot forward a little, but alexia kept you from pushing her backwards. "are you sure that you can't come up for a little while?"

"frido warned me you were relentless," alexia laughed. your face quickly fell as you tried to think of all the things that frido might have told alexia. the woman had known you since you could practically kick a soccer ball, and you had no doubt that if you stepped out of line, she wouldn't hesitate to embarrass you with alexia. "be good while you're away for me."

"i guess i can try to stay out of trouble," you huffed. alexia pressed a kiss to your forehead before she walked away from you. your hotel was pretty close to her apartment, something that you had learned when alexia came to pick you up for dinner. you knew that it'd be a few dates, but you couldn't wait for her to take you back to her place.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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buckyarchives · 1 year

Text

second, first meeting | chishiya shuntarou

spoiler warning for ending of aib season 2

after the meteor, chishiya notices the all too familiar person. their a pull towards you - like maybe you’ve met somewhere? (gn reader)

words - 1.1k

a/n: WOW AIB 2 FINALLY OUT AND THE ENDING WAS REALLY GOOD I THINK. anyways arisu and usagis ending was so cute and i needed literally the “have we met?” scenario with ALL of them. and i’m a weak so i made this, very shoot, not beta’d, just a small and sweet drabble. enjoy reading!!!

—

Chishiya is alive.

He sure as hell didn't feel like it, but he was. The meteorite took a lot out of him, physically and mentally. Waking up in the beeping hospital room with a sudden new look on life, and he was going to do something about it. No more being a messenger for bad news, slowly tearing down people's hope one referral after another.

Dozens of people just experienced the same pain and trauma as he walked around him, some looking better than others. A girl with an amputated leg, a man in a coma as he passed by his room, and a girl and boy walking hand in hand with injuries littered over them. Humanity– always finding love in terrible suitaions.

Chishiya stood in one of the hospital common rooms, people-watching as he always does. God– it feels like a lifetime had passed since the meteorite. Chishiya was familiar with the whirring and beeping sounds of hospitals, people chatting and crying, and the strong smell of disinfectants and bleach. He was a doctor, all these things filled his life to the brim, it was familiar.

Even you.

You, who stood across the room; tucked into a corner (like chishiya), people-watching, snacking on crackers, and keeping yourself comfortably hidden. Yes, you’d caught his eyes. But something felt off deep inside his stomach, something was off about you. Almost like you were too familiar, chishiya could see a lifetime in your eyes and this is the only time he's ever seen you. Maybe, it wasn't?

Chishiya knew better than to laser focus on one person in the room, because your head perked up. Right into his direction, but chishiya’s gaze didn't falter– he couldn't even if he wanted to. The pull towards you was too intense, it made him dizzy. shock, confusion, remembrance? Flashed across your face, similar to him.

A small, sweet smile grew on your face. Fuck, what medication did they put him on? That meteorite really did a deal on him because suddenly he can’t breathe. For a moment he thought maybe his stitched came undone, half expecting to see blood soaking his scrubs when he looked down. But no– it was just you. Chishiya’s has never seen a smile so familiar, yet foreign.

Your eyes narrowed in his direction, like you were trying to read him. Something many people found difficult in the past, Chishiya didn’t put up a fight or a stone-cold face. Chishiya narrowed his eyes back, like a challenge.

So wrapped up in you that he didn't see the teenage boy wheeling a little too close to his toes in a wheelchair. “Ow!” chishiya yelped.

“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” the boy began to spew out a plethora of apologies, frantically bowing his head to the elder.

“It's okay!” chishiya reassure, the sting in his toe had already been subdued– an easy injury compared to the bandaged and stitched-up ones he gained a few days ago. “Seriously, it’s okay.”

The boys' apologies slowed and he wheeled off, practically still bowing. Chishiya chuckled under his breath at the gesture. Looking back up to find you again, weird– what's got into him? Your spot ghosted empty and chishiya’s eyes frantically searched for you, only to find your back now turned to him and trudging down the hallways. Right as his eyes landed on you, your neck turned and you glanced back at chishiya.

A challenge indeed.

Chishiya curiously cocked his head, looking something like a cat. And then one foot in front of another, chishiya was following you down the hallway. He wasn't sure why, maybe he didn’t need a reason. I mean, he almost died, chishiya felt like he didn’t need a solid reason to do anything anymore besides what he wanted. And he wanted to follow the beautiful, mysterious, and weirdly familiar person around in a hospital. Like cat and mouse.

And that's how chishiya ended up in a quieter, more intimate area. Middle of a hallway, near a set of tables and a vending machine. Usually, where loved one would sit weary-eyed and waiting for good news. You came to a halt, chishiya stopped. You turned around slowly, that sweet smile that made chishiya’s stomach feel weird (apart from the wounds.)

“You're following me.”

Something that would so usually sound like a question, was a statement. Because it was meant to be, because you knew he was from the beginning. You intended on it. Chishiya already likes you. And hell– your voice almost gave him whiplash, so silk and sweet. Echoing distantly in his head, like he's heard it a million times before.

“And you wanted me too,” chishiya replied coyly. His voice felt so scratching and his throat burned as he spoke, being without water and unconscious for too long. Shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning back slightly. Even half dead he must keep up his cool-guy image.

You didn’t reply, only a wider grin growing on your face. And chishiya found it hard to bite back one of his own. How so uncharacteristic of him – he felt so warm.

“Maybe.” you finally said.

Chishiya hummed, beginning to close the distance – one foot in front of another – between the two of you.

You watched him intently, chishiya knew it. Normally he’d perceive this as someone sizing him up, but your eyes told a different story as they trailed up his body. Something that'd make his ears hot and red.

“Meteor?” you asked, gesturing to his wounds. Chishiya nodded. “Me too.”

It was awkward for a moment, but not uncomfortable. The silence was deafening as if it wasn't meant for the two of you. Like there were so many words only on the tip of his tongue, words unsaid, words he didn’t even know – but they were begging to be spoken.

You were the first to break the silence, stepping closer. Now only 2 or 3 feet in front of him. “Have I, sorry, this is weird– but, have we met before? Like even passed each other on the streets.”

“Not to my knowledge.”

You hummed, looking around to avoid the intense eye contact that tugged you closer, and closer and–

“Would you like to know me?” chishiya said, his eyes not leaving yours. A weird sense of home lay in your eyes, chishiya was ready to jump fully in.

You tried to cover the eagerness in you, waiting a moment. Dramatically tapping a finger to your chin as you thought. “I think that’d be nice.”

Chishiyas lip quirked up, following yours.

He may not know you the way he feels, but he will.

#alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #i want to smother chishiya #chishiya x male reader #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #chishiya headcanons #aib #alice in boderland x reader

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eyelessfaces · 2 months

Text

about time we found each other again.

leto atreides x reader

summary: even years after your wedding got called off, leto is not sure he truly really got over you.

warnings: implied cheating (I am so sorry lady jessica I love you), death of a parent, angst, probably inaccurate dune lore stuff my most sincere apologies I did my best

tags: f!reader, arranged marriage, first love, love confessions, estrangement, time jump where the second part takes place a few years before the first movie (this doesn't matter at all tbh)

word count: 2.1k

this is my first time writing for leto so I hope he's alright lol<3

When you came to meet Leto Atreides for the first time, it was instantaneous; maybe you couldn't rightfully affirm it with conviction yet, but some deep part of you immediately knew that you desired him to be the one by your side for the rest of time.

He had been the only other person around your age when you and your family attended a special meeting on Caladan, and you could very well feel your heart beat faster and your cheeks burn hot at each of his furtive glance thrown your way and each slight smirk over either of your faces when your gaze met his.

Maybe leaving your home land and being sent to eventually move to Caladan wouldn’t be as bad as you had thought, after all.

And it wasn't. You quickly, borderline scarily quickly fell in love with Leto, you were sure of it by now. His manners were those of a man of respect, and he was kind and compassionate, he didn’t have the over excessive pride you would expect from a destined duke.

And ultimately, you grew to also be almost pretty sure that he felt the same way towards you, from the way he listened to you with no feigned interest whenever you shared stories with him, from the way his warm brown eyes so gently looked over at you, from the way he always made sure you were treated right.

You remembered it to be a warm evening when he officially confessed his love to you.

You had been walking mindlessly through seemingly never ending fields, talking about anything and everything for what felt like a lifetime, eventually stopping to lay down and watch the sun set.

Leto had settled on gently putting flowers in your hair while you told him about your childhood on your home land, smiling radiantly as he admired you lovingly, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand before he leaned in to kiss you.

Your own hand was quick to find his dark curls neatly slicked back as he hovered over you, the tip of his fingers delicately tracing your face and neck before he pulled away from your lips when it became absolutely necessary.

From there, the sunset and everything else became insignificant, everything could be crumbling around you and you wouldn’t pay it any mind; nothing mattered, not when Leto promised to love you until his very last breath here in the middle of nowhere.

So when you eventually had your parents visit you on Caladan and announce to you that you had been sent there for them to agree with the Atreides upon arranging a marriage with Leto, you couldn’t be happier and it couldn’t be more convenient; you would have chosen him anyway, if given the choice.

Leto had the competence of making everything seem so easy, and he turned out to be quick to ease your worries about your upcoming future as a duchess.

Even under the looming political pressure of your marriage, this wedding meant a starting point for the rest of your life, a part you could not wait to share with him, even if it meant a lot of responsibilities and changes.

Then so suddenly, all at once, it all fell apart, everything.

It was late in the night when you and Leto were laughing and dancing, rehearsing for the forthcoming wedding. Servants had knocked onto your shared room door, and Leto’s hand left your waist as he scurried away to answer the door, opening and making way for them to enter the room.

They came in with a polite nod, one of them unrolling a parchment letter, reading out loud to the both of you.

The letter was from your father, announcing the news that your mother had died while on a mission, resulting in the need of your presence at your home land to take over her legacy and responsibilities for a while.

You didn’t understand what it involved right away, maybe from the shock of the sudden, dreadful news, the loss of your mother too hard to swallow.

You didn’t understand that it meant that you and Leto were bound to be no more, that either of you were now assigned to different fates and responsibilities, that the marriage was therefore called off for the moment being.

And you quite certainly didn't realize that the night you spent tossing and turning around your shared bed with eyes wide open until the sunrise was the last night by his side, that the morning you left was the last time you would see him.

Until years later, what felt like a lifetime.

When you came back to Caladan for political and business reasons, it was only because of the absolute necessity of your presence, otherwise you wouldn't have shown up.

Finding him again after so long drowned you right back again in the same hollow feeling you endured the moment you were drawn apart years ago, and while you mirrored his polite nod and smirk, you couldn't help but still feel the pain of being estranged so brutally, of seeing him again after so many years.

He was wearing the slowly appearing gray streaks of hair beautifully, and the beard suited him like he was made for it; it made his handsome face look a bit more harsh and severe, but he was a duke now, after all.

You lightly cleared your throat as you made your way to leave the meeting once it was over, troubled as you could feel the weight of his gaze burning holes through you all along. You could feel your heart pound through your ribcage the exact same way it used to when he held you when you were younger, and you ultimately came to the rotten conclusion that your stay here in his presence would be a tough, challenging time for you, and that dwelling on the past had been a bad idea, exactly like you had anticipated it to be.

—

It was wonderful out there, just like you had remembered it to be. The view from the balcony offered you an endless panorama over Caladan and its lush lands, and while you loved your home land with your whole being, you couldn’t deny missing living on Caladan.

The fresh breeze of the night was nothing but pleasant, and even though you were slowly starting to feel goosebump growing over your skin, you figured the view of the sun starting to set was more important.

“I thought I could stay focused while in your presence.” you recognize his voice all too well, and you wonder if the shiver running down your spine is caused by his sudden apparition or the wind hitting you. “I was deeply wrong”

“Leto,” you chuckle sheepishly, blushing as you turn around and face him.

A bittersweet smile has quirked upon his face, and he steps further and approaches you. The years have been unkind to him, lines of wisdom and experience growing upon his face transforming him into a man hardened by duty. Yet, beneath the rough facade, you can still see the eyes and soul of the man you once knew and loved.

“Why only now?” he asks, a certain helplessness painted across his face.

“What?”

He sighs as he looks away, licks his lips as he walks besides you and grips the barrier of the balcony with both hands. You only hear the wind as you watch and wait for him to do, to say something.

“This should have been yours. All of this” he mutters, gaze fixed on the sight before him. The clouds look like cotton ripped apart and spread through the wide sky, and the sun setting over Caladan turns them into an abnormal color, one you wouldn't even be able to define. “I waited for you.” Leto declares, head turning to look back at you like he is trying to figure out how you feel or waiting for you to say something.

Your eyes close as a small exhale leaves your mouth. “Why should it matter now, Leto” you scoff, turning away to try to escape his gaze, heavier than you remember.

“It has always mattered” he declares, following your steps as you try to inch away from him. He calls your name in a weak plea, his hand coming to rest over your arm. “Look at me. Please”

You do. You turn back to him, and he looks at you like you will be slipping away from him any moment now, like you're just a ghost, like you're water in his bare hands. “Tell me you did not think of me all those years and I'll leave you alone.” he whispers feebly, face close to yours as he still holds onto your arm, and you can feel your breaths mingling from how close he is to you.

His unwavering gaze is locked on yours, desperately waiting for you to say something. Eventually, your lack of response speaks for itself, and he nods slightly. “That's what I thought.”

“Leto.”

His hands come to cup your face, holding it steady as with a sigh, his forehead rests against yours. Your eyelids fall shut under the weight of it all and you exhale softly, your hand wrapping around his wrist, stroking along his forearm.

“I have loved you since I met you. I should have found you and married you regardless.” he mutters, barely louder than a whisper. His declaration makes something flutter deep in your core, and you grimace like his words feel sour to hear. You should have done it differently, should have come back to Caladan after everything went back to normal after your mother's death.

“And your wife?” you rhetorically ask, with a dubious scoff.

“She's not– we never married.” he shakes his head, pulling away from your forehead to look back at you, your hand falling to your side again when you let go of his arm. His gaze and the way his eyebrows are angled weakly are conveying everything you need to know, confirming every conclusion you made.

Your lips part slightly, some part of you refusing to believe in what he's indirectly telling you, refusing to believe that he gave up on some part of his life waiting for you.

“We were promised a marriage together, a life together” he continues, taking hold of your hand, fingers lacing with yours tentatively. “I always hoped you would come back and we would resume our life together where it stopped.”

“Now still?” you weakly ask, equally pained and somehow flattered that he never really got over you.

Again, the lack of answer and his previous actions prove the point, and you hold his hand tighter when you swallow with difficulty. Your other hand slightly trembles when you reach to touch his face, settling to rest at his bearded cheek, and you smile weakly as you trace the lines that you never got to witness appear.

“We were so young” you smile, drawing one out of him. The corners of his lips turn upwards as his hand covers your own over his face, pulling it to bring it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles softly, the feeling of his warm breath over your skin taking you years back.

“Don't go back.” he begs against your hand, his voice wavering a little. There’s a glint in his eyes as his gaze darts up at you that makes it impossible for you to consider refusing and giving up on him again. “You belong here.”

Your eyebrows knit in uncertainty as you tear your gaze away from him, looking at the endless view again. You can't help but overthink every consequence coming back to Caladan is going to involve, for you as much as for Leto, and especially for his own concubine that is at this point already long forgotten by him.

This is unfair, but some part of you acknowledges your younger selves feelings and remembers how devastated you were to leave him; leaving again while knowing that he still cares after so many years and regrets not marrying you may hurt even more.

“This will make people talk, Leto.” you wince, looking back at him.

He shakes his head carefreely. “Let them.” he affirms with a dismissive scoff as his hands settle over your hips. You grin softly as he pulls you closer, and a soft exhale leaves your mouth when your arms wrap around his neck.

He takes a while to admire your face, how it has changed despite still remaining the one of the woman he fell in love with long ago.

When he kisses you, it is the exact same way he used to when you were young.

—

SUPPORT YOUR FANFICS WRITERS, REBLOG, LEAVE A COMMENT, IT IS WHAT KEEPS US GOING!!!!

people who wanted to be tagged<3: @beezusvreeland @steven-grants-world @hammerhead96 @ominoose @clemdango04 @campingwiththecharmings @unear7hly

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lionheartedmusings · 1 month

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hi everyone! i talked about my new "dream job" very briefly a few times, but turns out you really shouldn't count your chickens before they hatch. i debated not saying anything multiple times, and frankly perhaps i should've kept quiet, but i refuse to let this situation eat me up and i feel like the community also deserves some transparency on some things that realistically, you'll never get unless people speak up. i want to preface this by stating very, very clearly that everyone that i met in the studio on a personal level is incredibly talented, passionate, and kind. all of them deserve much, much better than the way they get treated. i applied to be a writer for quackity studios / qsmp and got an email back on the 18th of january. i interviewed for the position on the 23rd of january, and entered trial period on the 28th after signing an "nda".

early during trial period, i asked one of my supervisors about payment and was told they weren't responsible for that and didn't know, but would get back to me as soon as they knew which never ended up happening (i do not blame them at all, they’re incredibly busy people). i should've pressed further, but as someone in a very, very sensitive financial situation and someone who loves the qsmp and admires the talent of everyone who poured their heart and soul into the project, i chose to wait and expect the best. i was officially welcomed into the studio on the 10th of february, and while i waited to be contacted regarding a contract or payment, i had to once again ask (even after i was already working) about payment. i was redirected to "the" head admin as it was him who handled payment, and had to wait days for him to log on so i could add him as a discord friend and ask about my salary. during that conversation, which took almost a week from start to finish, i was asked multiple times if i'd worked professionally as a writer or freelancer (to which the answer was no) before finally being offered between 200-250 dollars (which i later found out shakes out to 170€) per month. i had to ask how i was being paid, and of my own accord provide him with my paypal email in hopes of a response as he never made it clear to whom i should send it. i was incredibly lucky compared to so many members of that team, because i did get paid for my work over that month, even if it felt like i had to beg for compensation that had been promised to me before. it was an awful salary, but i was desperate and so excited to be a part of the team that i accepted the conditions. after léa's tweets, the response "jay" posted, and quackity's emergency stream, i heard once from a supervisor that things were on hold but we'd be informed of any changes. to this day, there has not been any communication either publicly on the discord server or privately, even though i asked a supervisor privately for any possible updates on anything. there's been absolute radio silence. i want to add that i do not in any way blame my supervisors for any of their lack of communication, as they've been nothing but kind and caring towards me and i imagine they'd say something if they could. i have nothing but the utmost respect for them. a few days ago (and i apologize for not being precise with the date but i wasn't checking these things closely as i had no reason to) i noticed that my access to just about everything on the server apart from the announcement channel had been removed, and the only role i retained was the main "writer" one. upon checking, the other writers on the team still retain all of their previous roles. for some reason i do not know nor understand, my access got removed without any sort of word, communication, dm, anything. anything i've ever learnt about this situation, i learnt in the middle of the night live on twitch.tv while i waited to see if i still had a job or not. the only reason i can find for my access being removed and not the other writers is the fact that i'm friends with pomme's admin. i do not know if that is why, it's merely my own speculation, but it's the only link i can see that would lead to that decision. i hope i'm wrong, but hope hasn't gotten me very far in this yet. yesterday, i quit.

i only applied in the first place because i love the qsmp. i love this community, i love this project, and i genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted to help build it as well as be able to in some way support myself while being creative. i'm not making this post because i hate quackity and want to see anything burn — i'm just exhausted, and stressed, and losing sleep over a business that ultimately does not care for the people that made it a reality. i could not in good conscience not say something, because while i was very lucky that my time there was short and while i made friends there that i believe i will take with me for the rest of my life, i've never been someone who can sit and watch others be mistreated so blatantly and just ignore it. i honestly and sincerely hope that moving forward, things change, but after what i've seen i have very little hope left in me. this isn't just about the exploitation of people, or just about not providing people with payment for their work — it's about treating other human beings who are killing themselves and working themselves to the bone with the very minimum of care and respect. it's about people who made the qsmp what it is being discarded and disrespected constantly, and who live in fear and anxiety. these people deserve to be treated well, and that lack of respect hasn't changed regardless of any "announcements" made. my heart and full and complete support goes out to everyone who is dealing with these very unfortunate circumstances and treatment (my dms are always open if you ever want to reach out), to léa for being so incredibly brave and putting herself in the line of fire for the tens of people still in the studio, to all the actors and the twitter teams for the absolute silence they've received as payment for their hard work over almost a year, and to pomme's admin who despite what's going around on twitter has not received any contact from anyone in the studio yet, and deserves so so much better.

it’s my most sincere hope that qsmp thrives and conditions change, because everyone there deserves that. everyone there deserves to be treated like gold because they’re some of the best people i’ve ever met. i wish it didn’t feel like we have to put ourselves in the line of fire publicly for any sort of response because clearly staying silent hasn’t helped anything.

please, support the people who spoke out and support the people still in the project. they're the ones who made the qsmp the qsmp. they're the ones you should be standing with first and foremost.

#qsmp #qadmins #i'm so sorry guys but i personally don't feel comfortable tagging this with like discourse or neg #but <3 i will not be offended / upset if you use those tags if you talk about this #aaaaaaaaa

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xmalereader · 2 months

Text

Bruce Wayne x Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

REQUEST: Could you please write Burce wayne x male reader who has trouble ordering food. Like in a restaurant when the waiter asks, he either stutters or goes completely quiet, and that's why he asks Bruce to order for him. And i would like to see Bruce's reactions when a waiter is like "you don't have to order for him. He can order for himself. I wasn't asking you, i was asking him" just the waiter assuming that Bruce is kinda controlling. The reader is silently crying in his seat, having to order on his own, like he knows the waiter was trying to do something good. (Totally not speaking from personal experience 🤭)

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Fluff, mature language, social anxiety, Bruce is a good boyfriend, mentions of fears, judgment, request, relatable events, everyone struggles.

TAGS: @one-green-frog

WC: 1.5K

NOTES: I used to struggle with ordering food due to anxiety and fear of people judging me 😩 but as I got older they fear kind of went away and I’m able to do it with no problem but everyone deals with anxiety differently and takes time to get come it so I ain’t judging. It’s like that with my older brother he’s 26 and still makes me order for him due to his own anxiety. But hopefully you enjoyed this shot and apologize for the long wait!

Everyone has social anxiety.

Y/n struggled with it at a young age, not being taught how to speak with others in public without getting the intense fear of judgment from others. He figured that he would improve as he got older, but it didn’t change and still struggled with the simple things. He could go out and run errands alone without any struggles since majority of place now had self checkout which was a god send for many.

He’s able to hold a conversation with strangers or with people he knew in the area, but his anxiety would get to him when it came towards the simplest tasks. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was an over thinker and would think that he did something wrong or if he perhaps pronounced something incorrect, thinking that people were judging him for the smallest things. It took time for him to improve but the anxiety still remained during important moments.

One of the easiest things that many were able to accomplish is ordering food. Their were times that he hesitated or froze up when ordering his own food, having to apologize each time he orders and forcing a nervous smile or laugh in hopes of getting through the few minutes that he is there. He struggled even more when he went out on dates.

Very few people knew about his anxiety and very few friends were kind enough to do the ordering for him without hesitation and providing the assistance that he needed. With strangers it was a whole other story, he didn’t want to force them into placing his own order due to his own fear and would struggle with speaking the words.

His dates never went well after that and hated the way he felt each time he stumbled upon the problem. If the waiter or waitress wasn’t staring at him intensely he’d probably order his food without a problem and his day would go fine. But the feeling of their eyes staring at him as he looked at his choices of food made him stutter and grow nervous when ordering.

Forcing that smile as always and getting through the day of embarrassment.

If he had this kind of anxiety how was he suppose to handle his future dates when he couldn’t do a simple task? He’s able to do a whole presentation in a room full of board of directors but he stutters and hesitates when it comes towards ordering a simple meal or even asking for help whenever he’s in public.

He figured he’d spend his days locked indoors while making his own meals while watching a good movie.

He didn’t think he’d end up bagging Bruce Wayne. Gothams Golden boy.

Y/n had thought that this was all a trick or a joke when Bruce first asked him out. He wanted to laugh at the mans face and tell him that he doesn’t need to make his life miserable by playing a mean joke, only to realize that Bruce was in fact not joking around.

Y/n worked at Wayne Enterprises but in a lower department not expecting himself to bump into Bruce Wayne and getting asked out by the man himself. Their first date was simple with a cup of coffee and muffins. He would have thought that bruce would take him someplace fancy on their first date, but when he didn’t he was a bit relieved.

Bruce was a great man and didn’t do anything that made him uncomfortable. Y/n figured that he’d only get lucky to have one date with bruce and then never see them man again, only to get asked out again and again and again. The first four months went well without any problems and enjoyed his time with Bruce as their time together grew their dates slowly got fancier.

Resulting into Y/n confessing to Bruce about his anxiety and fear of others judging him because he couldn’t do a simple task that only required a few words. He thought Bruce would laugh at him or use it against him and force him to confront his fear, instead Bruce smiled at him and asked.

“Do you want me to order for you?”

He said it with the most calmest voice ever showing no hints of judgment.

Y/n wanted to cry that night. It was a simple favor, but it meant a lot to him.

As their dates continued they created a routine each time they went out to eat. Y/n would either look up the menu online ahead of time and already have his order in mind and tell bruce before getting their orders placed. Bruce even memorized the dishes that Y/n liked whenever they went to a repeated restaurant and would for him on the spot without needing to be told what he liked, already knowing the mans interests.

A year into dating and it became a normal thing between the two.

During their one year anniversary, Bruce decided to take him to a new restaurant and getting seated in a nice secluded area and away from others. Y/n scanned the menu and hums. “This looks good.” He speaks up as he checks the different dishes until one caught his eye.

“You know the rule, order whatever you want.” Said Bruce, always reminding him that he can get whatever he wanted. Y/n was hesitant about the prices at first but with time he got adjusted to the idea of Bruce paying for everything and no matter how many times he tried to pay himself, Bruce had already paid ahead of time.

“This pasta looks good.” Y/n points out on the menu and shows Bruce who looked up form his own menu and smiles. “Is that all you want?”

“Can I also get this for dessert?” He points behind the menu where a picture of a nicely desert is presented, getting Bruce to chuckle as he nods his head. “You better share with me because I already know you won’t eat it all.” Y/n laughs at his words and sets his menu down, leaning back in his seat as he looks around the restaurant and takes in the interior, distracted by the place that he doesn’t notice the waitress coming over.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Yes,” Bruce smiles at the women and starts with his order first, letting her know what he’d like. “And for you?” She turns her attention to Y/n who gets his attention pulled away from a painting he was staring at and looks at her with wide eyes. “I…”

“He’d have the pasta and the chocolate desert.” Bruce is quick to cut in when he noticed Y/n freeze up.

The waitress gives Bruce the stink eye by how he interrupts Y/n. “You don’t have to order for him. He can order for himself.” Bruce froze with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth in shock. “I wasn’t asking you I was asking him.” She points her pencil at Y/n and puts her attention on him.

Y/n can only gap at her, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to speak but I can’t. He was caught off guard and reached out for his menu. “I’ll like…the—the…” He’s stuttering and doesn’t know what to tell her. “Do you need another minute?” She asks which only make the situation worse, he’s turning to Bruce and staring at him with eyes full of fear and hesitation silently screaming for help.

“I assure you miss my partner would like the pasta and desert.” Bruce says again in hopes of getting her to note down the order and she does, not without rolling her eyes which only makes Y/n whine.

“Your food will be ready soon.” She said while taking their menus and walking away, leaving them in silence.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say, she probably thinks you’re an asshole now.” He groans out while covering his face with his hands. Bruce can only chuckle while shaking his head and reaching out to grab him by the wrists. “Don’t be, not everyone knows about your fear and besides she was only doing it because she probably thought I was controlling.”

“You’re not!”

“She doesn’t know that. If I wanted to be asshole I would have yelled at her like other people do, but I’m not doing that. It was a simple misunderstanding.” Bruce reassured Y/n as he held his hand and smiles. He didn’t think that something like this would happen since they’ve never had this issue in the past at the other places that they visited.

“All you have to worry about is eating all of your food and sharing your desert.” Bruce tries to lighten up the mood which works for Y/n as he chuckled and nods his head. “Fine and then after we go home and watch a movie and not come back here again.” After this misunderstanding its most likely he doesn’t want to come back and face the same issue again.

“We stick with Jimmy’s…” He mumbled out, referring to his favorite restaurant that serviced amazing chicken wings and fries. Bruce laughs while nodding. “Next time we go out will go to Jimmy’s.” At this point they were already considered regulars that the owner memorized their orders, which made it better for Y/n.

#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x male reader #male reader #Batman #Batman x male reader #dc imagines #dc x male reader #one shot #social anxiety #request

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vroomvroomcircuit · 3 months

Text

"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"

Summary: It's about treading the line between 'diamonds are made under pressure' and 'bread only rises through rest', describing the struggles of two people that come with being described as one of the best drivers to ever exist and the smartest person in the room

Pairing: Max Verstappen x engineer!reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

_______________________

“Diamonds are made under pressure.”

This is a sentence, a one-liner, that has been thrown at (Y/N) through an off-sentence by a friend during one of their most stressful weeks of university. Ever since she lived by it. It was one of the mantras she retold herself over and over again during one of too many all-nighters, only accompanied by sugary energy drinks and crippling anxiety about her future if she doesn't get through this assignment on time.

In the end it all, meaning the late nights and early mornings in libraries, study halls and classrooms, was worth it, the grind she held through her bachelors in engineering got her a seat on the Red Bull Racing team in Formula 1. Ultimately, it brought her to her true love, Max Verstappen.

They have similar mindsets, after all, there is always room for improvement and why wait for it when you can do it now? So many people are counting on them anyway.

This is something they have discussed during late night talks. These started back then when he was in his third year with Red Bull and (Y/N)’s first.

Max was about to leave the factory after a long day of working on the new car for the upcoming season. He stopped when he saw a light still burdening in one of the offices. Being the environmentally conscious person he is, he wanted to turn it off. Good one, Max. Without you Red Bull would go bankrupt based on the energy bills alone.

Instead of an empty office, he was met with wide eyes. “Uh, I apologize for running in like that. I thought somebody forgot to turn off the light”, the driver explained his sudden appearance.

After recovering from the initial shock of having her door thrown open out of the blue, (Y/N) was quick to put Max back at ease. “Oh no, it’s fine. I guess it really is late. I just wanted to run the suggestions you made to the team through a simulation and see if the outcome really does change like you expect it to.” The young woman smiled tiredly at him before continuing punching some numbers into her computer and sipping on a can of Red Bull (the orange one is the best, you can’t change my mind).

“You don’t sound convinced by my idea too much”, he noticed with a small grin of his own, “Was what I said not smart?” He still whacked his brain whether or not she was with the team he worked with today. He surely would remember, right?

“Oh, I would know what you said word for word, I was with the other driver today. But Mike gave me the notes and why wait to put what you suggested to work when I can do it now?” (Y/N) winks at him.

“And still you think it won’t work.” And with that they started an in depth discussion about the outcome that is to be expected with the proposed changes. In the middle of another Maxplaining (Y/N) just turned her computer screen towards the man leaning against the doorway, proving her point she told him from the beginning of their conversation.

“Well, I guess you need to explain these results to me. Maybe over a cup of coffee?”

“I definitely need to, can’t have our golden boy lack knowledge in the field of engineering. We want these Championship wins.” With that she packed her back. “I know a place that’s still open.”

Born with that are many more discussions, partially very heated even, that could only be solved by getting one of the heavy textbooks out that (Y/N) still kept from her uni days. Sometimes held over coffee in softly lighted cafes around the world, later during dinners, which are only interrupted by waiters desperately trying to get their attention to jot down their orders, and in the end they continue them in the security that only their own four walls can provide.

One time during a race weekend the whole team had a bet going on about how long the two can keep talking about the same subject. After two hours they had to be stopped, both of them needing to follow their own programme points of the day. GP won the bet, having to listen to their conversations on a regular basis with no way to escape them, because they are vital with important key information. Still, it doesn’t mean that they are exciting.

Now, three years after that initial meeting, three WDC and two WCC have been secured since. During that time the aspiring engineer decided to pursue a masters degree in technical engineering alongside her work in the team (or more like Christian offering her a whole ride paid by Red Bull after hearing her talking about this and knowing how much extra value this brings to the upcoming seasons).

The couple’s apartment in Monaco starts to look more like a library than a living space for humans, textbooks and loose papers scattered over every available surface and the floor of their office. While the driver greatly admires his love’s determination to get through her programme with the best possible grades, he starts to worry a bit. He has heard stories from her friends and family from her time at uni and what her study habits had looked like back then.

Hell, Max himself plants his ass for more hours on the sim than probably necessary, since there is always room for improvement. But seeing his girlfriend become a zombie version of the person he got to know was definitely not what he had expected when she signed up for going back to uni.

“Schatje? I thought you wanted to join me in bed?” Max asked (Y/N) tiredly, who is still sitting in her seat at the office desk while pouring over textbooks and a writing document on her laptop. His voice tells her that he already had fallen asleep, but something must have woken him up. Was she talking to herself again? She tends to do that when getting lost in her own world of equations and laws of physics.

“Yes, I will be with you in a minute. Let me just write this down, I finally understood that concept”, the engineer waved him off absentmindedly, the other hand retracing a line in a book, which has been assaulted by differently colored highlighters.

But Max is nothing but a stubborn man and if life had taught him one lection then it’s to never give up easily. “Come on, it’s really late and all your smart thoughts will still be there after you get some sleep”, he tried convincing her, moving closer and massaging the tension away from his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“I told you, I’ll be there in a sec. But a masters thesis doesn’t write itself and I would deeply appreciate it if you would leave me be to finish this up.” Frustration starts to set in (Y/N)’s voice.

Max is not irritated by it at all. He had been the same, if not worse, to her in his most challenging moments of his career. He knows that he can be a harsh person, unfortunately even to his loved ones. But that also means he knows how to deal with harsh people.

“You know what, I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea while you wrap this up and we meet again in the bedroom. Okay?” Softly spoken, the Dutchman proposes the idea to her.

(Y/N) can’t really say no to this, knowing that her brain wouldn’t be able to process and absorb much more information anyways. Still, there is a certain guilt gnawing on her conscience whenever she is about to take a break from her studies.

With puppy dog eyes the engineer looks up to her boyfriend. “Can you make it a hot chocolate, please? And maybe some of the cookies you brought home from the bakery?” Her small voice is enough to ask Max to do nothing short of a murder and he would say yes without wasting any thoughts on it. “Of course, Schatje. Anything for my smart and brilliant girl.” He presses a kiss on her forehead before disappearing from the office.

Not long after this the couple finds themselves sipping from their mugs with some calming music playing in the background and munching on some treats.

“My love, I feel like when I talk to you now about the importance of taking breaks and resting, we both will have a déjà-vu,” Max says with a small smile.

He is not wrong. They actually talked about it a couple of months ago when Max had to be dragged off the sim, because he had been stressing himself out about a particular race way too much to consider it a healthy try to improve.

“I know, I know. It’s just, being smart is not easy and I try to live up to the title of the clever woman in my family and in the team,” (Y/N) confesses quietly. The driver puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her further into his embrace.

“What do you mean, Schatje? What do you have to live up to?” Murmurs are whispered into her hair.

“It can be hard, being the smart one. Because as soon as people catch on, they start expecting things from you. Suddenly, you are knowledgeable in every single subject available on earth. You become other people’s measurement scale. When they get something right and you wrong, they will rub it into your face.

You have to do great things, because they want you to do that. You will get pressured into using your intellect to the fullest extent, because otherwise they say your potential is wasted. Nobody wants you to do that, it would be a shame. Apparently to everybody and their mother.

This is why I sometimes hate to be the smart one. No one wants me to be average, they need me to be exceptional. That’s why I have to study hard and read everything there is on this subject. And diamonds are made under pressure, aren’t they?”

Max understands the kind of pressure that is on her. He felt like that for the majority of his life, having to exceed the expectations of other people over and over again, because only meeting them just is not enough.

Either he is the best driver out there or he shouldn’t even bother to try. That is something he had been told from his early days into his driving career. He lived by it like it was the only truth that mattered.

This was until he met her. (Y/N) showed him that trying is better than never starting. That his best will always be enough. Nobody has been born being a master in something. Failing is an important part of the way to perfection. Mistakes have to be made to improve, to learn what needs to be improved.

And he wants to show her that all of this also counts for her, too.

“Do you wanna know what Christian said to me a couple of months ago? ‘Just like dough, you can rise only if you rest.’ You need time to recharge to be able to do your best. Let’s take the day tomorrow off, recharge our batteries and just laze around and snooze in a bit. After tomorrow, I’ll help you study.”

A study date with Max Verstappen is too good to say no to. Whenever he quizzes (Y/N), she gets a kiss for every correct answer. So the questions might get easier over time. Still, he motivates her to do her best while looking out for her water intake and food consumption and taking regular breaks for stretching her body or going for a walk.

Max is right, you need to rest to continue achieving greatness.

#max verstappen x reader #x reader #reader insert #max verstappen x you #max verstappen image #max verstappen x engineer!reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

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phfenomena · 4 months

Text

his girl. || Coriolanus Snow x Reader

| WARNINGS - none!

i’ve literally never publicly wrote anything before so apologies if this is literally shit but i just finished reading the ballad of songbirds and snakes so i just had to.

there were no records for life in district 12. she floated in and out as she pleased, leaving people to wonder was she even there at all?. the ghost girl, she was.

but she was seemingly real to him. her small and almost hollow appearing frame twirled and cavorted all along the length of the makeshift stage at the hob. the covey following suit of her irregular movements. she almost glides like an angel coriolanus thought, awestruck by the girl in front of him. the spotlights casting a halo-like glow upon her shining face. all caution thrown to the wind as she strums forcefully against the tight strings of her guitar. before his mind caught up with the rest of his body, his legs were moving on their own. gradually approaching the dais supporting the beaming girl. his lips curl up almost matching the wide and enticing smile settling on the angel's face. he momentarily forgot all troubles that perverted his every thought. his own personal bottle of medicine. as the music influencing her frantic steps died slowly, she floated to the microphone sitting in the middle of stage.

“did y’all miss me? even the hunger games couldn’t keep me away from this wonderful crowd!”

the rowdy gathering of people screamed unintelligible words around coriolanus, but he couldn’t find himself to care. his girl was in front of him, the very girl he fought tooth and nail for to survive in the arena. the girl he wanted, no, the girl he needed. her eyes meet his and a flash of recognition flees quickly, but he saw it. he didn’t imagine it all, it was real. she was real. he felt as if they were the only people residing in this shabby excuse of a bar. her mouth drops open and her teeth reveal. she smiled at him. her fingers gently strum as she continues her invocation to the mass.

“now we did enjoy singing for y’all, but it’s late and a girls gotta get her beauty rest! thank you and goodnight!”

she blows kisses towards the crowd and happily bobs off stage. his feet carry him quickly and clumsily towards her direction. he finds her standing, rocking back and forth on her heels. was she waiting for him? her eyes catch his and she smirks.

“coriolanus snow. what the hell are you doing here? and what did they do to your hair?”

she exasperated at the end and goes to touch where his curls previously resided. he chuckles and grabs her hand.

“peacekeepers aren’t allowed to have pretty and curly hair.” he teases her.

she looks solemn as she quickly pulls him into an embrace.

“i never got the chance to thank you, did i? the little man shipped me off rather quickly. but thank you coriolanus.” she mumbles into his chest, voice slightly breaking.

“please call me coryo, y/n. and there’s no need to thank me, i would’ve lost my mind and never gotten it back if you weren’t the victor.”

she laughs into him. she laughed at his joke.

“you know just what to say to make a lady feel better. i think coryo is a very cute nickname, also a lot easier for me to say. i cant pronounce all of those letters.”

her accent is thick and melodious to coriolanus’ ears. his girl is in his arms and it’s all okay.

#tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fluff #omg this is so bad sorry

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moonlightspencie · 26 days

Text

Meet-Cute

Description: It's all in the title, isn't it?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 1k

On a Saturday morning after a night of drinking, the last thing you personally cared for was to be awoken by the loudest noise on earth. Some terrible creaking sound, mixed with thuds that seemed to resound in your apartment every thirty seconds had you practically developing a stress-induced twitch as you laid in bed.

To put it nicely: you were at the end of your rope.

You begrudgingly got out of bed, roughly washed your face, angrily brushed your teeth, and stomped to your door. You may not usually be prone to dramatics, but you felt it necessary for your well-being this time. You opened your door, about to confront your terribly noisy neighbor, when you realized that it was someone moving in.

You wanted to be angry. You really did. But…

“Hello,” said a man who you could only describe as genuinely tall, dark, and handsome. He also looked a little surprised.

You wiped the scowl off your face. “Hi.”

He looked around, as if the answer for you standing in your doorway in pajamas, looking quite annoyed, would appear out of thin air. It didn’t. You realized as much about thirty seconds later as you finally started speaking.

“Sorry. Are you moving in?”

"Oh! Yeah," he breathed out a small laugh. God he was handsome. "I apologize for the noise.”

You shake your head. “No! No, that’s okay. Just… curious.”

He smiled a little and you tried not to melt on the spot. He reached his hand out in greeting.

“I’m Aaron.”

You shook his hand, trying not to stare at him as you gave him your name.

“Nice to meet you,” you said softly.

“You, too. Uh… I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, nodding at the box under his arm.

“Of course!” you nod quickly. “Right. Um… I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

You went back to your apartment, shutting the door behind you with a little grin. So much for staying determined to be grumpy and less than pleasant today.

It was, unfortunately, two weeks later before you saw him again. This time as you were checking your mailbox in the lobby. As you heard someone clear their throat, you muttered a small apology, stepping out of the way as you looked through the letters in your hand.

“Um… hi,” he offered as a greeting that made you jump a little bit. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... Just wanted to say hello."

You looked up at the voice that was irritatingly smooth, finding yourself getting a bit warm in the cheeks when you noticed him giving you almost a shy smile. You turned towards him more to give him your full attention.

"Oh, gosh. Uh, sorry," you chuckled softly, returning his smile. "Guess I'm not very good at being neighborly, am I?"

"You're doing just fine. I'm sure it might be a little... maybe off-putting to have a strange man approach you in the lobby, now that I think of it."

You shook your head. “It’s not that at all. I’m just… not used to people approaching me here at all.”

“Not exactly social?”

“More like nobody else here is. I don’t mind a little company,” you replied, a little more flirty than you were intending.

Clearly he didn’t mind.

“Good to know,” he nodded once with a growing smirk.

“Uh…” you clammed up a tiny bit. “So… Um, are you, like, new around here?”

“Only to this building. I’ve been in D.C. for too many years to count,” his smirk melted into a softer smile. “Just needed someplace new, I guess. My old apartment… I just needed a change of scenery.”

“Yeah. Yeah, no, I’ve been there,” you nodded softly. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s great. My son loves it here.”

Your brows raised a little. “You have a son?”

“I’m shocked you didn’t file a complaint last night with the tantrum he threw,” he chuckled a tiny bit.

“I was out last night, so no worries here.”

“Oh? With friends, or…?”

You couldn’t help but smile a little more. “Yeah. Just a couple of girlfriends.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Maybe too much fun.”

“You get up to a lot with them?” he asked casually, though not without humor, crossing his arms over his chest.

You smiled. “Only on occasion. I don’t think I could really handle the way they go out practically every single night. I only agree to go out like that with them once a month.”

“Now you’re sounding a little too much like me for someone so young and pretty.”

You find your cheeks warm at that, though you try not to react outwardly. You could tell that he knew just how much he had affected you, though. If you didn’t know any better, you might guess he was a mindreader.

“I think you make yourself out to be too boring for someone so friendly and handsome.”

He laughed a little at that. Then a comfortable silence falls over the both of you for a moment. Maybe two moments. Eventually, you shift your weight, and look back up at him again. He really is horribly handsome. A guy shouldn’t be able to look like that, and… God, he smelled good, too. You shuffled the mail in your hands a little bit before speaking again.

“Uh… Well, it was nice chatting with you, but unfortunately I do have to go clean my apartment. Family is coming over tomorrow,” you said softly. “I’ll see you around, though, yeah?”

“Yes, that sounds… sounds good. Maybe if you end up wanting some of that company you were talking about, we could get dinner some time?”

You couldn’t help a giddy smile sneaking onto your face. You nodded easily, glancing at his hand as he shut your mailbox for you near your head.

“I could come knock on your door some time soon and invite you properly, if you’d be alright with that,” he said, that little smirk sneaking back onto his face.

“I’d like that.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fic #gender neutral reader

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jadeddangel · 2 months

Note

can you do

angel x reader x husk poly

They neglect the reader, but with a good ending

"Not too important"

Husk x reader x Angel Dust

Summary: In which Angel and Husk struggle to balance their work lives and personal lives, leading to a mild argument and a struggled apology

Warnings: swearing, abandonment issues, talk of Valentino, talk of physical abuse

You, Husk, and Angel had been dating for a little over since the incident with Charlie and Angel getting into an argument, you didn't really know what happened since you weren't there but you could piece together that it almost got messy. The hotel had been growing steadily after the extermination so you, husk and angel struggled with making time for eachother, especially with Val trying to make angel "pay" for the incident at the club and for ignoring him. And due to the hotel gaining popularity, husk had been forced to work as Alastor's little errand boy for the time being. And then there was you, after zestial found out about carmilla's incident with the angels, zestial has been making you work like crazy, errands, working as a temporary bodyguard in certain rings, despite him not needing it. It was getting exhausting trying to give all of your energy towards zestial and having a good attitude while also remaining the hinge that really brought angel and husk's relationship, to say you were burnt-out was an understatement.

You had gotten home after a long day of errands and escorts. As you finally got into your shared room, you stripped out of the green and black cloak along with semi-formal clothes in a darker theme After a very much, well-deserved bath and some time to decompress, you headed downstairs in some more casual clothes. After seeing Angel sitting at the bar to talk with husk, you nearly skidded down the stairs eager to give your lovers the attention they deserved, you hopped onto the bar chair next to angel before wrapping him in a hug, " Angie! Oh, how I've missed you! How was work?" You nearly exclaimed in the poor boys ear. Angel's body went ragged as his muscles tensed and tried to relax, realizing it was just you but still didn't quite relax. Angel used his second set of arms to carefully remove your body from his tucking your arms into your lap and rolling his eyes exhaustedly, "It was the same as usual, long and hard, Val has a stick up his ass" Angel complained a bit, as you listened closely, his tone wasn't like how it usually was, and the lack of dirty jokes really made you concerned. You nodded a bit before turning your attention to husk.

"Don't think I forgot about my favorite little kitty. How are you doing? Alastor isn't being too much of an unbearable prick, is he?" You asked, taking notice of the alastor's lack of presence. Husk's body went ridged at the sound of alastors name causing him to overpour his glass over alcohol he was serving himself, Husk let out a hiss as he stepped back and away from the overflowing mess of his glass. "It's the same as it always is, Listen, Our days were hard enough, we don't need you and your peppy attitude to make it worse, you don't know what it's like so don't even try and act like you know what's going on." Husk hissed out through gritted teeth, narrowed eyes focused in on you, pupils forced into the shape of sharp slits.

Husk's words bounced around in your brain for a few mere moments before your body tensed as you tried not to take them to heart. You could feel your body relax as your mind disconnected from your emotions in order to protect itself. Your nails subconsciously dug into the hard linoleum of the countertop as you struggled to ground yourself, "Oh...." The sound fell effortlessly I the silent air as you struggled to find the right words, not caring how they hurt yourself or the people around you. "Right.... YOU both have had a bad day, and me trying to cheer you up makes me the bad guy? Get a grip, HUSKER... " You spoke monotonously aside from enunciating certain words. You pushed your chair back as a sickening crackle filled the thick air; your chair had scraped up a good amount of the wood, which would most certainly get you in trouble later.

Your blood was boiling in anger at his insensitivity as you "calmly" walked away from the bar to your room to get some space. You laid down face first in the cold covers. You felt the bed dip slightly and a cold, wet nose pressing into the underside of your forearm. "Hi fat nuggets.." You sighed s bit sitting up so you could pet Angel's beloved pet.

Time had passed rather quickly as you ranted to fat nuggets about everything that happened, avoiding using any slurs or cussing in front of the sweet animal. You had left your emotions calm down as you felt a familiar feeling of guilt from having acting that way. You may not hold grudges, but you weren't apologizing first. You were tired of being the bigger person in all of these situations, and it exhausted you. You let out a heavy sigh as you looked down at the adorable little creature that seemed to be hanging onto your every word, " I need to get some sleep now, zestial has me planned for an early meeting again.. never thought I'd regret selling me soul, " you joked while scratching behind Nugget's ear. Letting out an exasperated sigh, you picked the little pig up and laid down, holding him close to your chest for comfort. You heard the floorboards outside your door creak from weight as a long slender hand pushed open the door slowly, causing light to flood the room. You did your best to ignore it and stay still. The most you did was let go of nuggets, allowing them to jump into, presumably, Angel's arms.

Angel took a deep breath as he sat down on the side of the bed, "Muffin? It's Angie.. look, I don't know if you're awake right now, but I'm sorry, we're sorry, work has been stressful on all of us, and we took it out on you." Angel pressed into the sensitive matter carefully, "Husk is worried about you. Why don't you come down for a drink, huh? I can see your brow furrowing, " Angel teased. You hadn't even realized your expression had changed as you sighed heavily sitting up, "I'm not taking anything husk makes until he apologizes.." you muttered stubbornly. Angel let out a little snicker, "you both are so cute when your mad, cmon just one drink and if anything goes wrong you've got us," Angel tried to bargain, and so far, it was working. Angel put two of his hands under your arms to lift you while the other two set nuggets down. Angel soon managed to coax you out of bed, aka bribe and carry you, and helped you down stairs. The wood where the chair had scraped away was fixed along with the chair in its original spot. You hesitantly sat down with angels encouragement, Angel took his seat next to you and gestured to husk to say something. Husk took a deep breath and cleared his throat, "want a drink?" Husk grumbled as Angel let out a heavy sigh shaking his head as he set his forehead in his palms.

Husk poured you your usual drink as he looked at you with slightly pleading eyes. Husk has never big on apologizes but you could tell he was trying to apologize just... in his own little way. You grabbed the glass from him taking a big sip, "I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to hurt you, I wasn't thinking, ill accept your apology, will you accept mine?" You asked reaching for his paw with your other hand slowly allowing him to pull away if wanted/needed. Husk didn't as he held your hand tightly, "can we just rest after this drink? We've all had a shitty day.."Husk said in his usual husky voice. You and angel shared a look before letting out happy snickers and giggles, "definitely, mr.whiskers~" Angel teased in his usual tone. Husk let out a deep groan pulling his paw away "great now the moments ruined" Husk shot back just as playful as Angel. They were happy and so were you, so it worked out well, and you wouldn't change a thing

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iamnotokaythx · 11 months

Text

hello! first post on this blog. how lovely! i’m not normal about miguel o’hara. specifically yandere miguel. i wrote some hcs. theres also what i believe is called a drabble down there.

warning: not proofread, lowercase, kidnapping (twice), mentions of miguels past, hcs in no particular order, sfw surprisingly, descriptive + gory threats directed at a random person, miguel is paranoid, reader is gender neutral but masculine, i haven’t watched the movie yet, i used that spanishdict.com website but i am not a native speaker so help is appreciated, lmk if i missed anything

—

i respect everyone’s headcanons very much but imo: y’all got yandere miguel SO terribly wrong. he is a stoic, violent asshole, yes, but think logically!!! would this man, who watched his wife and kid die, ever hurt the object of his love? /lh

i think he’d probably treat you like glass no matter how much you insist that you’re capable of autonomy and he’d try to have the patience of a saint, but it can run thin.

if he gets severely pissed off, expect furniture to be thrown and screaming to ensue—but one look at your fearful eyes, all watery as he backs you into a corner, it makes him melt and cradle you in his arms. he cares for you so, so much and would never want to scare you.

miguel is kidnapping you. absolutely no doubt about it. he can’t trust you to be in other dimensions where so many things could go wrong, where it could collapse or you could be caught in the crossfire of a canon event or—no. no, you have to stay with him, where he can watch out for you at all times. i think if you retaliated, all he’d do is restrain you in an inescapable hug and sink his fangs into your neck, putting just enough venom to make you sleep for a little. he apologizes profusely once you come to… but he doesn’t mean it. he’s sorry to hurt you, sure, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you safe. with him.

miguel has no qualms about hurting anyone else, though! barista seems just a little too gregarious? miguel’s talons spring from the pads of his fingers as he taps his fingers on the table. he smiles at you. it’s a warning. ‘i could kill them, you know.’ he says with his eyes. ‘right now, if i wanted to, i could rake my claws across their throat. i could pick you up and run out before anyone else caught me. before they’d even get a chance to fall to the ground dead.’ his gaze flickers to the door. he runs his tongue across his fangs. ‘or i could bite them. shoot venom all inside their bloodstream. they wouldn’t pass out like when i did it to you, they’d die. they’d die painfully and slowly, their body shutting off as the pain made them wish it happened faster. all because they were smiling at you just a little too long.’ his eyes shine with mirth. he thinks it’s all a joke. you decide to put and end to his cruel mocking by standing up abruptly, grabbing his hand, and dragging him towards a different table far away from the poor barista.

at home, he’s affectionate. so saccharinely affectionate. he doesn’t—won’t respond to his name, you have to call him some nickname or pet name or something. “miggy.” “guel.” those are accepted, but he cracks a genuine smile whenever you call him by something corny and sweet like “baby” or “love.” he’s more likely to comply to a request if you call him a pet name, but he allows you some freedoms at the least. internet: heavily monitored, only when he’s with you. tv and video games are fine, as long as they’re only local co-op or singleplayer. you’re only allowed a phone so you can text him if you need him.

he nearly always finds time for you. as soon as he’s home, he’s attached to you like a lifeline. his touch never leave your body—he’s always holding your hand or waist or kissing you from behind and murmuring words into your ear. “mi cariño, i missed you at work. i’m tired, hermoso, please can we go lay down for a little?” he’ll ask. you’ll comply, if you want, and subject yourself to being smothered in his arms for 1-3 hours while he cuddles up with you and sleeps, but if not then he’ll whine until you let him lay his head down on your lap as you watch tv and ignore him. he so desperately craves the domestic affection he once had with his family.

speaking of ignoring him, please don’t. he’ll go insane. before the first day’s up, he’ll beg you for as much as a glance towards him, even if it’s a scornful glare it means you’re functional. he’ll become more and more desperate, clinging to you and your every word, movement, and nonverbal communication. after a long time—maybe a week, if he can stand it, he’ll cry into your chest until you explain what it is you want. at that point, he’d be willing to do almost anything just for that never to happen again.

…almost anything.

(okay i’m gonna be real. i don’t know the difference between a fic or a drabble. i assume what follows is a drabble)

he wouldn’t let you leave, it’s too dangerous. you somehow managed to escape, and he tracked you down in a panic-induced frenzy. as soon as he wrapped you back in his arms, you realize you’ve seriously fucked up. he’s silent on the way back home and even silent until the next day. you wake up the next morning to the smell of bacon and you find him in the kitchen. he acts like nothing happened at all, but begins a rather unsettling spiel as you eat.

“i did some thinking. i realized… it’s just not safe for you here!” he says slowly, circling you as you stared at the sizzling food in front of you. you don’t know if you should eat or not. his hands snake up to your shoulders, giving you a gentle back rub. “so i’ve decided we need to move. somewhere where you’re safe, you know?” miguel evidently noticed you hesitation to eat. “something wrong with the food, amor? i made it just for you. at least try some.”

you decide not to eat. you make a lame excuse about not being hungry. his hands tighten around your shoulders and then just as abruptly leave your skin. “you mind telling me why you won’t eat?” he whispers in your ear. you insist that you’re just not hungry. he growls in his throat, but suddenly switches into a smile. “of course. i’ll put it in the fridge for when you want it.” miguel says gently. he wraps the plate in saran wrap and set it in the fridge. “i took a day off. looks like we’re going to be together all today now.” he says. he leads you to the couch and assumes the regular position, laying with his head on your lap.

“i love you, y/n. i really, really fucking love you. you believe me, right? you know, right? you know how much i need you? to eat, to sleep, to breathe? i need you.” he says as you watch whatever show was on. “i… i don’t feel… well, i’ll explain later. how about you lay down this time? i know you like getting massaged.” he offers. you lay down, expecting to feel his hands press the knots out from your back, but instead you feel him grab your hand. “i’m sorry. i can’t imagine this is pleasant.” he apologizes, pressing one hand to your back so that you can’t move. his other hand brings your wrist to his lips and he kisses your forearm before sinking his fangs in. within seconds, you feel more and more drowsy.

—

woohoo go me! i did it

anyways i’m super tired i wrote this all in one sitting

part 2

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x male reader #miguel o’hara x reader #yandere miguel o’hara x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #tw yandere #yandere x male reader #m no im not actually ever gonna stfu about him. he’s so babygirl.#yandere miguel x reader #male reader #x dom male reader #dom reader

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