#young* and now he still sometimes comes by and I just feel awkward about it

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

into you

Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.247

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano

A/N: Another one for  @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe

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You couldn’t sleep. 

The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland. 

You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got. 

For years you dreamed of being a big movie star. 

Much like every young person who came to LA. 

Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year. 

By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it. 

Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.

You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month. 

They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason. 

Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead. 

Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you. 

You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change. 

Not just because they offered you the job. 

No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was. 

You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens. 

And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope. 

But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years. 

You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then. 

He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing. 

But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life. 

So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition. 

Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.

Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional. 

Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone. 

2:43 am. 

Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back. 

In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo. 

You should be beyond happy. 

Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined. 

Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet. 

You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him. 

Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed. 

More than once. 

In front of the camera. 

But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you. 

You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room. 

You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay. 

You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound. 

In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise. 

You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up. 

He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.

And so instead he played. 

And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other. 

Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play. 

His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song. 

When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked. 

You hummed in agreement. 

„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side. 

„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled. 

„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile. 

„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place. 

„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you. 

„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him. 

„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed. 

„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head. 

You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.

„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours. 

„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered. 

„Yeah?“ He asked. 

„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply. 

„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again. 

„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment. 

„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes. 

„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest. 

You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too. 

„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face. 

He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.

„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked. 

„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie. 

„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down. 

„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go. 

„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry. 

The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces. 

„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder. 

„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. 

„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging. 

„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…

You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.

„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked. 

„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours. 

You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped. 

„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss. 

The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet. 

Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile. 

„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over. 

„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him. 

„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready. 

And you did actually get married. 

Seven months later.

On a beach. 

In the rain. 

Without any interruptions. 

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #my fic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfic

[sluttyten]

My afraid-of-romance ass has just been asked by another regular customer for my number and the stupid thing is that again I do think this guy is kinda cute and I really probably should say yes

#the fear tho lmao #what am I afraid of? I have no fucking clue #this is why I’m still questioning my sexuality lol like what am I? do I even actually like guys? do I like anyone? #in an existential spiral at the moment #but honestly why do they always ask for my number #like dude just give me yours and let me make the decision when you’re not right here in front of me #but I felt bad telling him no today just because the last time a customer asked and I said yes I almost immediately regretted it #and then that didn’t work out because I thought he was too young #young* and now he still sometimes comes by and I just feel awkward about it #maybe I should turn to Facebook and see if I can find him because I have set an age limit for myself and I really don’t want to entertain #anyone younger than that #but I’m……… I know I’m like never active in here anymore #but I just needed to talk about this somewhere #because any of my coworkers would probably tell me I’m being ridiculous or they’d just seriously keep questioning why I keep saying no to #customers that hit on me and my best friend would probably also not get it #idk y’all I just needed to rant about it/talk about it #anyway I’m definitely gonna stress over this until tomorrow #and I’m gonna feel really bad if he stops coming by

[spitgobbler]

I ♥︎ Daddy

here is todays shower thoughts blurb since i randomly thought of those ‘yes, daddy?’ panties(pls don’t let me be the only one who remembers them circulating at one point?!)😭 … enjoy my ted talk 🫶🏻

pairing: leon kennedy x fem reader

tags: daddy kink into slight ddlg, age gap, leon uses his fingers on you, dirty talk, clothed, aftercare, uhhh yeah!

It was always just a joke, a tease you did to Leon. A brief ‘yes, daddy’ falling from your lips whenever he asked if you ate that day or if you could grab him a beer from the fridge.

You never thought much of it but Leon had lots of thoughts about it. Always made him so fucking hard each time that damn name spilled from those sugary sweet lips of yours.

Had him manspreading even more on the worn couch of his apartment to hide his hard on while accepting the alcoholic drink with an appreciative kiss. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep.

Leon already had a few moments where he felt awkward from the looks the two of you sometimes received while out on dates. The misunderstandings of him being your dad. You never cared when it occurred, responding with an easy “No, he’s my boyfriend,” and moving on with the date without a care in the world.

At least that made him feel better, it reassured him. Leon didn’t exactly date you because you were so much younger. Well, it was a bit flattering he still managed to pull such a pretty young thing at his age but he also loved you for how smart and attentive you were. But he also loved how much you needed him, maybe it was a bit of a complex he developed from his line of work.

He knew another one of your jokes were about to take place when you pull away from his side, his strong thighs feeling empty without your smooth legs laying across them now, and yanking the front door open to retrieve a package.

“What’s got you in a hurry baby?” Leon sat up slightly on the couch with curious look.

Leon was met with a giggle and a mischievous smile, not any proper answer though as you opt to flee off into the bathroom. He’s left scratching his head at your typical silly behavior but he just remains seated back on the couch.

It’s not long before you come back, blocking his view of the TV. Arms crossed and a cute grin pulled up on your face.

He lets a brow raise, “And now you got this bratty look…”

Oh, but he’s quick to watch you as your hands grip the waistband of those adorable fuzzy hello kitty pajama pants you made him buy you.

“Hey, I’m not a brat!” You get caught up easily in protesting against his words, nothing in that sweet little head of yours except Leon and whether or not Mocha and Usahana would get a build-a-bear plush.

Leon simply just gives you a look, as if you’re foolish for trying to deny it. “Uh huh… just continue.”

And there it goes again, that saccharine voice saying ‘yes, daddy’ while you inch those pajama pants down your hips and legs.

Fuck, why is it like a sucker punch straight to the gut every time you call him that? He bites back a groan but his darkening eyes say everything when he sees those light pink panties on you. The words ‘I ♥︎ daddy’ printed in a darker pink right where the cotton fabric clothes your mound and on the back right on the swells of your bottom.

Leon tries to compose himself, he can’t handle these jokes anymore and frankly, it’s feeling like it isn’t a joke anymore.

“Sweetheart, what’s this about?” He asks.

You tilt your head at him, responding like it was no big deal. “Huh? S’just a joke Leon. Like how I tease you and call you daddy because you’re old enough to be my daddy?”

Head falling back against the couch, he groans and mumbles. “Just a joke? Just a joke.”

You’re left feeling confused. Usually he’ll laugh all sarcastic, sometimes even spank your butt in playful retaliation.

The older man lifts his head up, eyes boring into yours then down to those panties again. Before you know it, his strong calloused hand is pulling you onto his muscled thighs, chest against your back.

“Just a joke?” Leon repeats huskily against your neck, keeping your thighs open by resting your legs outside of his.

A shiver runs down your spine and heat invades your cheeks. You try to nod, “Y-Yeah, seen em’ online randomly.”

The rough fingertips of his right hand graze up and down your supple thighs. Back and forth, back and forth like waves. You feel it, that tingle in your core as he teases you. Maybe it’s what you deserve after torturing the poor man.

“You think a man at my age is stupid, baby?” Leon asks softly, his fingers finally touching your clothed cunt. “I may still use a flip phone but I know it wasn’t random, you got an algorithm.”

Your breath hitches at his touch and words. You kick yourself inwardly for being so damn obvious, attempting to whimper out a protest at his statement.

His padded fingers rub at your cunt, the cloth of those silly panties adding delicious friction. The soft pink gusset darkening as your arousal begins to taint them. Just how he wanted.

It’s hard to stay still as his fingers move upward to rub soft circles against your clit. Back pressing against his chest as you squirm in pleasure.

“S’Okay baby, I know dumb little girls like you need a man like me. A daddy to care for them and provide.” Leon cooed, letting himself indulge in the very thing he was at conflict with since it was very clear both of you were on the same page.

Your thighs instinctively try to clench together from pure arousal at his words but they are kept open by his legs. Mind turning mushy at this point and Leon just kept saying all the right things.

He rubs at your needy little cunt with more pressure, sending consistent pulses of heat to your tummy.

“And I’m so very happy to do that for you, doll.” Scratchy stubble brushes against your soft warm cheek as he kisses it. “Make you hold onto your plushie as I take you like a good girl.”

Your hips buck at that and a desperate moan spills out. The older man couldn’t hold back a groan of his own, fingers pressing and rubbing at your panties with fervor.

“Wonder you good you could color in the lines while I spoil your pretty little princess parts.” All of his dirty thoughts are spilling out as he plays with you and it’s sending both of you into a heated frenzy.

Rough messy circles on your clothed clit has you trembling and a lewd squeal rings out. “Daddy, daddy!” Is all you can manage to slur out and it just makes Leon’s cock ache even harder against you.

Leon doesn’t let up though, rubbing and rubbing at that bundle of nerves, spoiling it with his calloused fingers as he turns you into a mess. Showering your needy little pearl with affectionate caresses that set you ablaze on his lap, squirming and gasping as your heart pounds.

Leon allows himself to manspread even more, your legs pried open even wider. “If you love your daddy so much then you’ll be a good girl and show him how much you love him, won’t you?”

Several harsh rubs against your swollen clit has your back arching off his chest and your toes curling. Warmth and shivers flooding your body as you fall over the edge and cum.

“Thank you daddy, thank you.” You blabber out messily.

Panting as your hips buck from the intense waves of ecstasy course through your heated body. Leon guides you through your orgasm and stops before overstimulating you.

Almost instantly he closes his legs just slightly to help ease the strain and make you more comfortable. His affectionate cooing started right away, holding you closely to him as you come down from your high.

“So good for daddy,” Leon mumbled and pressed several kisses to your cheek. “Let’s get you comfy and clean.”

You nodded a bit sluggishly at his words, turning your head to try and kiss him properly which he laughs softly at. Leon lays you down gently on the couch and changes the tv to play something more your speed.

His hands reach for your soaked panties, pulling them down and off your legs, wordlessly pocketing them before making way into the kitchen. He’s not gone for long, coming back with some water and a wet rag.

“Drink this, baby.” The cup of water had a straw in it and he looks at you seriously but you had no problems obeying him.

Leon hums as he carefully cleans up your sensitive parts since he didn’t want you to get oversensitive and feel pain instead.

Now, with everything in order, he sat down and situated you so your head laid on his lap. His hands caressing and playing with your hair soothingly.

“I meant what I said, you know?” His voice a calm rumble. He gives you time to voice your disapproval but when you don’t, he continues. “Think about what you want as a reward for being so good for daddy, for now though, get some rest.”

You respond with a ‘yes, daddy’ and your daddy squeezes your cheeks playfully. The response reminding him of all your jokes but perhaps hints was a better word for it.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x fem!reader smut

[luveline]

hi love! i have a request in mind. i read your guidelines and saw you’re not writing smut atm so just want to clarify that that’s not what this is!! i was wondering if you could write something where reader has abnormal pain during sex? and it’s just the conversation either before trying (thinking it will be awful and she’ll get rejected) or right after (and not having bad success for that first time). the reassurance of it would be wonderful to read, especially in your voice! as for the character, i’d love either joel or hotch! whatever comes easier <3 love ya jade

hi lovely, hope this is ok!! fem, 1k

cw suggestive/adult themes, mdni

"Am I doing something you don't like?" Aaron asks quietly. 

You sigh and turn your face from his kiss, skin aflame. It was a matter of time before he read your hesitancy, but you'd hoped to power through. This is the dealbreaker for some guys. You're especially terrified of Aaron's rejection in particular. 

"It's not you," you murmur. 

He drops his hand from your shoulder to your thigh, far from anywhere intimate but a heart-skipping touch regardless. "No?" he asks, matching your murmur. "We don't have to go any further. I misread you, honey. I'm sorry." 

"You didn't. It's… I want to," you say, pitch heightening and weakening at the same time, almost raw. "I really, really want to, but it's–" You look down at his chest. "It's embarrassing." 

"Oh." He clears his throat. "I'm not young. I promise, I know the reality of a woman's body–" 

You laugh unexpectedly, "No need to brag." 

"What I'm trying to say is that I know what real women look like. I'm not expecting you to be a two sheet spread." 

"Aaron, that's really sweet, but it's not what I'm struggling with." 

"Sorry," he says. He rubs your leg gently in apology. He looks embarrassed himself now, an odd expression on him, but reassuring in a way. 

"I have this thing. Sex," —your voice sounds weird, fraught with nerves— "can be really painful for me. Sometimes I can't do it because it hurts, and I don't want to lead you on when it might not, uh, work." 

Aaron holds his silence. You rush to fill it.

"We can still try, I'm not saying I can't have sex with you, I know that for most guys it's not something you want to go without and I get if that means I'm not right for you–" 

Aaron takes your hand. "Hey, wait. Wait. Who says you're not right for me?" 

"I just know sex is a big deal." 

Aaron is full grown, and you should've expected this, but it still shocks you when he speaks without cringing, "I won't tell you I don't enjoy it, but having sex with you isn't the only thing I want from you. Honestly, it probably doesn't make the top one hundred." 

"It's not that I can't…" 

"Right. It hurts?" he asks. 

Emboldened by his question, you squeeze his larger fingers between yours. "Yeah, it can hurt. Not always, but even if we take it slow I can't guarantee I'll enjoy it… The top one hundred, really?" 

Aaron leans down slowly to kiss your cheek. "Really. I don't want to lie to you, I want you. But mostly to make you feel good."  

His tone is quiet, measured, with a hint of hoarseness, and his breath fans warm over your skin. This is the very first time you've had this conversation  and still wanted to try afterward, confident that the partner understands what you're saying. 

"I probably should've told you before." 

"You told me when you were ready, that's all I want from you." He kisses your cheek again, before his arm is woven across your shoulders and your face is hooked into the curve of his neck. "Thank you for letting me know." 

"Aaron–" You laugh, the weight of your small secret finally lifted. "You just said thank you for my putting you in possibly the most awkward situation I could have when ten minutes ago you were giving me a hickey." 

"I think I'm old enough to do both." 

"All this focus on how old you are," you murmur, pressing your lips to his jaw. "You realise I barely think about it?" 

True and untrue. He doesn't feel any older than you when he's kissing you into a tizzy, but he's handled this conversation with immense and reassuring maturity. It is so, so nice to have been able to talk about your problem without shame or disgust in the mix, and nice, too, to know he isn't expecting supermodel perfection under your clothes. 

"I know you don't. It's hard not to think about sometimes, maybe you'll understand when you're older." He chuckles at his own joke as he pulls you close, leaning back in the couch cushions and encouraging you to rest the entirety of your weight on him. "Can I kiss you again?" 

You take his face into your hands and kiss him, careful not to jab his chest with your elbows as you grow closer, closer. It's easier to kiss him knowing that no matter what happens, he doesn't mind. He understands. 

"Thank you," you say against his lips. 

"Stop. It's the very least I'd do for you." He kisses the corner of your mouth, covers your hand on his face with his own. "And… let me be crass, but when you say sex, you don't mean every aspect, do you?" Your eyes close as he pulls your nose against his. "I meant what I said earlier, about making you feel good."  

You huff an amorous laugh, "Not every aspect, no… We can figure it out. Please?" 

"Let's make something very clear, honey. You don't have to say please to me. Not about this." 

It means the world to you that after everything, this mess of conversation and flirting alike, you can wrap your arms around him for a hug and be received like it's the one thing Aaron was waiting for. His arms slide behind your back, one hand curled against the curve of your waist and the other stretched broad between your shoulder blades. 

"If it makes you feel better, I have a mole shaped like Louisiana on my stomach," he mumbles. "I didn't know how to bring it up." 

It's not that funny, but paired with your adrenaline rush and the comfort of his arms, you burst out laughing. Aaron joins in with his high-pitched laugh, so unlike his usual dulcet tone, and that makes it worse. You laugh so much you almost forget what you were doing before. Then he touches the small of your back under your shirt, and you remember. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[vixstarria]

Admit that you love me

Connected with my other headcanon fics, but works as a standalone as well.

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, Astarion is bad at feelings, Gale is bad at everything

Bit of angst, bit of comfort, bit of fluff, love, banter, humour and all the other good things. Non-explicit. Early Act 2.

Approximately 2,000 words. 

You traversed the shadow-cursed lands. Earlier this week, Elminster had showed up, eaten all your cheese, essentially told Gale to kill himself and promptly went back to wherever he had come from. And you thought 200 year-old vampires were erratic... You hoped you would never come across a vampire wizard.  

It was an average evening in camp. You and your companions were passing time by the fire before calling it a day. 

You were sitting on the ground before the campfire, as Astarion sat on a fallen log behind you, trying to massage a crick out of your neck and shoulders. You weren’t even being obnoxious about it, your neck had genuinely been killing you and he was trying to alleviate the pain and discomfort.  

You’d closed your eyes and leaned forward a bit, trying to give him better access, when a remark from Gale caught your ear, and the hands stilled. 

“It’s truly heartwarming to see how well Astarion takes care of his livestock.” 

In the sudden silence that ensued, before you had even registered your own emotions for the insult, your immediate instinct was to seize the hand that was still on your shoulder, and say: 

“If you kill him, he’ll take us all with him.” 

It turned out to be the right call, as Astarion re-sheathed a dagger you hadn’t even noticed he had drawn (or had on him), and gave your hand a small squeeze.  

“I... I’m sorry, that was a poor joke.” Gale looked at the ground shaking his head. “If you can call it that. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He started to get up. “I better-” 

“Disrespect my lover or me again, and I will personally burn everything that you cherish, and rip out the throat of every person you hold dear.” Astarion’s voice was an icicle. “I won’t kill you… But I will fulfill my need to hear you scream.” 

Astarion gave your hand another squeeze and got up. He met your eyes as you turned back to look at him, and gave you a barely perceptible shake of the head before stalking off.  

Gale, who had stood silently through Astarion’s cold outburst, wordlessly turned and left in the opposite direction. 

You still sat on the ground, elbows on your knees, eyes shut, now rubbing your temples. Great. Perfectly normal (in accordance with your definition of ‘normal’, anyway) evening ruined. No Astarion, Gale at a new lowest low, awkward silence, you still with a crick in your neck, and now an unfolding headache. All while feeling like you’ve been spat on.  

“Is that what you all think?” you asked quietly, still rubbing your temples. “That I’m a stupid lamb offering myself to a wolf for slaughter?” 

To your surprise, it was Lae’zel who answered.  

“It is true that the vampire is a predator, and there is hunger and lust in his eyes when he looks at you. But there is also love and yearning. You both carry it. My people are proficient in recognising it, for we are taught from a young age to quash such notions at their conception. Love and attachment make you weak. But you two, you have turned it into a source of resilience and strength. The wizard is as delusional as he is out of line.”  

You were completely taken aback by what you just heard. 

Firstly, by the fact it came from Lae’zel. But also... You hadn’t actually exchanged words of love with each other. Oh, there were the ‘my love’s, but that was more of a silly casual pet name that had started long ago. You both regularly addressed Karlach as ‘love’ as well. It didn’t mean much. 

But to have a githyanki set it out for you so candidly...  

“...I couldn’t have said it better myself, Lae’zel,” spoke Shadowheart.  

“Aw, none of us doubt you or fangs,” added Karlach. “Hells, sometimes I worry my heart will have a meltdown not from exertion, but from seeing you two.” 

You hoped no one could tell your face had coloured scarlet by the light of the fire. 

“Gale just hasn’t been himself lately. I’m sorry you and Astarion took the brunt of it. I’m sure he feels awful about this.” Wyll apologised as though he had anything to do with it. “I better go speak to him, make sure he knows we understand.”  

You excused yourself and went to your tent soon after as well.  

Astarion didn’t return that night. On checking his tent, you noted he did take his weapons with him, though. That’s all you really needed to know. He could take care of himself. After all, he was one of the horrors other people were scared to encounter in the shadows. Still, when you finally fell asleep, it was only due to sheer exhaustion. 

~ 

It was morning when he finally showed up at the entrance to your tent. Probably. You could barely tell night from day in this blasted place. You were sitting cross-legged on your bedroll, getting ready for the day ahead. You didn’t get up to greet him as you continued to fasten the belts and buckles of your equipment. 

“I was worried.” 

“I know,” he said simply. When you didn’t say anything, he sighed and added: “And I was angry. Furious, actually. Murderous. I didn’t want you to see it.” 

You bit back a swear. 

“I can-” 

“Before you say you can handle my anger, that’s not the point. I don’t want you, of all people, to be exposed to it to begin with.” You frowned and he continued: 

“When everyone keeps telling you you’re a monster, eventually you no longer want to prove them wrong – you want to show them just how much of a monster you can be. And you’re the only person who doesn’t think that about me. Why on earth would I do anything that might make you look at me the same as they do..?” 

It broke your heart a little to realise that that’s what he thought. 

“They don’t think you’re a monster, Star,” you said imploringly. “Gale said something stupid which he immediately regretted, yes, but the rest of them were on our side.” You made sure he was taking in what you were saying. “On your side.” 

“...They were?” Astarion’s eyes softened. 

“Yes. Lae’zel gave a whole speech, just about.” 

“Ugh,” Astarion curled his lip. “And I thought you were serious for a moment there.” 

“I am serious! She was quite poetic about it, actually.” 

Astarion suddenly took a step back out of your tent, looking up at the sky in alarm. 

“What is it?!” you reached for your bow. 

“Oh just checking for flying pigs...” he stepped back into the tent. “...So what did she say? I’m intrigued.” He still looked skeptical, but much less guarded than before.  

You paused your preparations, set down your weapons and met his gaze. 

“She said she sees the love in your eyes.” 

You weren’t about to tell him that she actually said she saw love in your eyes as well.  

“Oh...” Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback. “That is quite poetic for a githyanki.” 

You continued to study him without saying a word. 

“...Oh no. No no no.” He waved a finger at you. “I see EXACTLY what you’re doing, and I am NOT falling for it.” 

“What am I doing? I’m not doing anything.” 

“Exactly! You’re not saying anything, forcing me to fill the silence until I start stammering like a fool and admit that I love you!” He paused, turned away and huffed, before turning back to look at you, hand on his hip. “And that is NOT on the agenda!” 

“You’re not going to admit it?” 

Astarion looked away again, wrung his hands, opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it, and looked back at you, cocking his head to one side before finally saying:  

“...Not today..?” 

You burst into a laugh. How long had your heart been pounding? 

“Gaaaaaale! Old buddy, old pal!” you heard from Astarion. 

You lifted your head to see Gale approaching.  

Fucking Gale, you thought.  

You got up to face Gale at the entrance to your tent. 

“Morning! I would say ‘good morning’, only that would be a lie for all of us, in light of-” 

“Oh for the love of all that is unholy!” Astarion cut him off. “Spare me your words and drawn-out explanations, and I will spare you my daggers. We don’t need that. We can sort this out like two mature, adult men.” 

The next thing you knew, Gale was on the ground, looking in disbelief at the blood dripping onto his hand from a possibly broken nose.  

“There. Now, for all intents and purposes, this matter can be resolved, if you wish. As previously advised, in the event of any further disparagement of me, Tav, or the nature of our relationship, I WILL be committing arson and turning everyone you love and care for inside out, Tav being exempt, of course. Now that this has been explained to you, if you accept, the damage you just took to your face can serve as compensation, to the full and final satisfaction and discharge of the idiotic shit you said yesterday. Are we in agreement?” 

Astarion held out a hand 

You stood back observing Astarion, your arms crossed. Theatrics to cattiness to violence to legalese within the span of a minute. How flustered and giddy was this man? 

Gale was still on the ground, also looking at Astarion incredulously.  

“I sometimes forget that you used to be something far worse than a vampire.” 

Gale accepted the offered hand and got up. 

“And you, Tav? Would you like to break the spare lute over my head, perchance?”  

Astarion perked up at that, but you were quick to protest: 

“No, no, let bygones be bygones and all that...” 

“Then it is settled,” Astarion interjected. “Well then, off you go, friend.” 

“Actually,” you cut in. “I think Shadowheart needs to rest a while. Gale could come with us today instead, seeing as you’ve sorted everything out. Gale, are you up for it?” you asked as Astarion stared at you in disbelief. 

After the borderline sleepless night you’d had because of these two idiots, the least they could do was entertain you by suffering each other’s company.  

“...Sure, let me just ah... do something about the blood. I’ll only be a minute.” 

And just like that, you and Astarion were back on your usual bullshit, causing a loud ruckus as you headed out of camp, him on your heels.

“I object! It’s ME or HIM! And if it’s him, you can give me my ring back!” 

Wyll snapped his head in surprise to look at you two, as Karlach gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.  

Astarion paused as if to say something to them, then waved a dismissive hand and continued walking after you. 

“...Because I am NOT dying in camp like a sitting duck just because HE couldn’t keep you safe!” 

“It’s my ring now, and you’re both coming! And so is Lae’zel. Lae, are you ready?” 

“Always,” came an unperturbed answer from the githyanki, as she got up to follow you. 

“There. She can lecture you on poetry, between the fighting.” 

Astarion had finally caught up to you.  

“You cheeky pup,” he said only loud enough for you to hear, his red eyes narrowed and a wry grin on his face. “We’ll need to have a long talk about your behaviour.” 

“Is that on the agenda? For today?” 

Astarion swore under his breath, smiled to himself and fell back again. 

Yep, definitely flustered, you thought, fighting a stupid grin that was threatening to take over your face.  

Oh you were going to enjoy this day. 

~~~~~ 

Author’s note: 

Sorry bloodweave gang, my headcanon is Gale and Astarion are constantly beefing.  

I wanted to work in the “disrespect me again” line from Early Access – although I ended up altering it. A lot. 

~~~~~

Next in series - Confession

OR, chronologically appropriate smut - Seeing stars

Series master list

AO3

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #gale dekarios #astarion fanfic #fkn gale

[miguelhugger2099]

Hiii, I’m in love with your writing it’s a comfort for me atp. Could you please do grumpy reader where she doesn’t talk to others a lot. That makes Miguel look like an extrovert (even though we both know that’s not true 😭). Happy Easter 🐣 and or any holiday you celebrate.

Two Peas in a Pod

c.....comfort,,,,, sad hamster meme the highest honor i could ever get omg thank you i really liked this ask because its basically me haha my friend actually told me ive gotten better at being more welcoming and "nice" and another friend would tell me that i could never mask my uncomfortableness if someone was bothering me LMFAO but as alwayyssssss i can rewrite this request for u if ur not satisfied :) Art: nellwhre17 on instagram

Spider-People were supposed to be funny and outgoing. It was in their canon to have some resemblance to the original quippy and humorous Spider-Man. If not outgoing then at least a little endearing and sweet.

So the Spider Society is a little thrown off when you’re introduced to the team by Miguel. Both of your arms are crossed, your face blank and looking over other Spiders with neutrality. 

“Here’s our new recruit. She’ll be working more with Margo and Lyla. Think of her as one of your superiors like myself or Jess or Peter B.” Miguel tilts his head at all the other Spiders. “That’s all. Dismissed.”

He turns to face back to his console, returning to work on new files Lyla had presented to him. Some Spiders stay to chat with you. They don’t notice the slight discomfort and annoyance in your face.

“Hey! My name is Peter M! I think we might be the same age!” One says, his mask squinting to look like he’s smiling.

“Have you gone on a mission yet? What Earth are you from?”

“Has Miguel explained The Canon to you yet? It’s a little overwhelming, I know.”

The commotion irks you a bit, the Spiders coming into your personal space so you shuffle away and your brows instinctively scrunch together. “No, I’m fine.” You mutter curtly. The others finally see the change in your demeanor and they awkwardly step back.

Miguel turns over to see the few Spiders around and barks at them to stop. “She’s still new to all this so don’t go around pestering her.” 

They smile wearily up at him then at you, whose face is still contorted a bit in a way that looks like you’re obviously still being bothered. 

They get the message and wave goodbye to you but not without feeling a chill down their spine at how cold you were. Maybe you were just shy. Everything is and always will be overwhelming around here with different variants of yourself. So, they believed in time you’d come around like the others.

You, in fact, did not come around. After weeks, months even, you still came in and left without a word. Get in and get out. You rarely engaged in conversation and if you were in a group, you’d keep to yourself. If someone tried to include you, you’d just say a few blunt words that didn’t move the conversation at all so there'd be an awkward standstill before moving on.

No matter what, no one knew anything else about you besides your name, you were a Spider-Woman and the name of your Earth.

Even the esteemed group of young SpiderLings couldn’t even get you to open up. Jess and Gwen had just come back from a mission, wanting to eat at the cafeteria before heading home. They had found seats beside Hobie and Pav who were just catching up together.

Pav had mentioned trying to talk to you once but his bright personality pushed you further and further away from him, your responses to his questions becoming more and more short and quick.

“I’ve never met such a complicated individual.” He pouts, crossing his arms on the table.

“Don’ bother me none. I don’ like someone tryin’ to bug me either.” Hobie scratches the back of his neck. 

“Would’ve thought they opened up by now.” Gwen brushed her hair out her face. “It’s like pulling teeth with her.”

“She just seems kinda grumpy sometimes…” Pav sighs resting his head in his arms. “Even more than Miguel which feels wrong.” 

“Yeah, at least Miguel snaps at you but she…kinda just sits there.” Gwen leans back with a weak smile. “Not really sure how to make conversation when she’s so quiet.”

“She just doesn’t feel like talking, guys. Go easy on her.” Jess rubs her temples. 

Their conversation is cut short when Miguel walks through the cafeteria, documents in hand and with you in tow. Speak of the Devil. 

“Jess, Gwen, I misremembered about giving you the reports of your last mission together. I also have the analysis for the next one on Earth—199B.” Miguel hands the reports to Jessica and she immediately skims through it. Gwen looks over her shoulder and gives you a smile.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She asks. 

You respond with a shrug and a nod. “Good.”

Gwen’s smile wavers, laughing nervously as the awkward silence. She expected some sort of greeting back. 

Miguel answers for you. “She’s been with me the whole day since Peter’s been busy at home.” Gwen looks to Miguel.

“And how about you, boss? Doin’—uh—doin’ good?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. “Better now that Margo fixed what Hobie broke in the console room.”

Hobie tsks. “Did not. You’re jus’ blamin’ me ‘cause I’m the scapegoat around ‘ere. Tha’ it?” 

Miguel pulls up camera footage from his Gizmo, of Hobie pulling apart different motherboards and CPUs from the server and tucking them away in his pocket. “Is this not you?!”

Hobie squints at the footage and shrugs. “AI has truly come a long way, mate. Bettah check tha’ out.”

Gwen, Pav and Jessica laugh at the scene, giggling at the sheer anger on Miguel’s face and Hobies indifference. You watch with a soft smile up at Miguel but nothing else.

Miguel feels your hand on his forearm and he looks down at you. You nod your head to the side, signaling it’s time to go. He looks at the time on his watch and collects himself. 

“We’re gonna head out. Don’t bother us unless there’s an emergency and be alert for any sudden messages should I need to contact any of you for anomalies.” He turns and gives a small wave before leaving, you trailing behind him.

You don’t say much other than looking behind to give them a small nod and following beside Miguel.

The group watches as Miguel talks to you, relating information and talking your ear off about missions and the to-do for the day. You listen quietly, eyes held on his and nodding along.

They glance at each other and think they would’ve never seen a person more closed off than Miguel in their lifetime. Even less where it looks like he’s more talkative compared to you. What an odd pair. “I think she has opened up. Maybe just not with us.” Jess leans back with a smile.

#nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ #requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you

[fun-k-board]

Hey, could I request Bi Han/Sub Zero romantic headcannons with a male reader who is his right hand man and childhood friend?

Bi-Han / Sub-Zero with a boyfriend who's his childhood friend

Note(s) : I'm gonna be honest, I don't really like him, but I want to try and be a better writer by writing about characters I don't like. Please, give me critiques on how I wrote him!

First of all, he was incredibly moody as a child already, not exactly of his own volition having a dad like his would ruin any kid, so if you can't handle people who are mean on purpose? You'd have a REALLY hard time getting along with him.

Bi-Han was always brooding, in the corner with a frown, he eats with a frown, sleeps frowning, talks to his brother's frowning, the only time he's ever smiling is either in private or when it's just him and Kuai Liang, but it doesn't happen that often any more after his dad died.

To befriend him, you'd either need to be a part of the Lin Kuei, either born into the clan, maybe the son of one of the lower Lin Kuei members, or found and taken in by the clan, or somehow be involved with one of the Lin Kuei's missions.

It's a long and slow process, but even just talking to him once a day will eventually gain a semblance of trust, it'll be hard to show it, and he mostly does by standing next to you and sometimes agreeing with you, but these things will take time.

By your teenage years, you two began training together, maybe he tends to be a little rougher than other Lin Kuei, and maybe he's broken your nose once, twice, possibly even thrice before, but he did apologise, eventually.

He would confide in you about troubles with his brothers, well, he insists that Smoke isn't a brother and more like a stray even though that's just not true, but Bi-Han would be awkward and reserved about talking with you.

He feels that this isn't your business, and not only that, he feels like you just... Wouldn't get it? While he understands you may have issues of your own, his situation is rather unique.

His troubles mainly consist of Kuai Liang and Tomas upholding tradition, Bi-Han believes that his brothers view tradition higher than him, and even though he's grandmaster, that they don't take his opinions into account.

Of course, this is ludicrous, his brothers follow his every word and typically offer little resistance, though, if you try to tell him that he will just storm off and claim he was right all along and that you don't understand. He'll eventually come to his senses and realise what you said was true, but, won't apologise.

If you agree with him, or at least say you do, he'll murmur a gruff complaint about his brother's and then you'll sit in silence for a while.

By the time MK1 rolls around, he's fairly jaded, he doesn't like talking to his own brothers, he dislikes them a fair amount actually, but he still loves them, or, at least he holds love in his heart for Kuai, he still hates Smoke.

Bi-Han doesn't know exactly what he feels for you, he knows it's not friendship, but at the same time, he's never really had friends before, so, he can't be sure. All he understands is that he values you, and more importantly, your opinion, if you disagree with him it may hurt his pride, but please, stay firm, he comes around eventually, only with you.

He wants to wait for something, that maybe proves you may love him, because when that rolls around, he can fully decide whether to act on his emotions or not.

You most likely accompany the trio to stop Shang Tsung, and you'll most likely be there when Bi-Han betrays the Lin Kuei. Obviously, you choose to stay with him, and, it breaks Smoke and Scorpions heart, they may not have known you too well, but, they knew you were one of the only things that would stop him from going down that path.

In a way, you both failed them that day.

Now, after proving your loyalty to him, you're basically his right hand man and oversee a lot of the clan, you train young and old recruits, you maintain a harsh schedule everybody is expected to follow, you help Bi-Han with whatever he needs, and sometimes need to force him to take a day off.

By the way, he won't let you say his actual name, you always have to either call him Sub-Zero or Grandmaster, depending on if you're on a mission or not, his name is personal to him, a core part of his identity, and, until you're closer, he feels awkward letting you call him Bi-Han.

During this, he becomes even more angry, even more distant, even with you, and it may take pushing, reminding him of your childhood spent together, for him to crack.

He won't come crying into your arms, he doesn't beg for forgiveness or want any, he just sits there, and begins to rant. He rants about how he feels like, if he was a better grandmaster, his brothers would have joined him, if he was a better grandmaster, maybe he wouldn't have joined Shang Tsung, and wouldn't have been tempted by his lies.

You hold a hand to his shoulder, and you confess, you tell him what you think about him, how you feel about his temptation into evil by Shang Tsung, and even though he doesn't want forgiveness, you give it.

And, with permission, you hold his hand. It's a small step, but, it's the most contact you two will have together for a long time.

Now, he gives you small smiles in private, nothing wide, but something so tiny it's hard to differentiate from not having an expression at all, he gives you some time off, more than he gives himself, anyway, and more importantly? He feels himself relaxed around you.

Telling a joke that would once make him scoff and walk away now makes him let out a gruff and amused noise, it's a mix between a laugh and breath of air, and he only does it for you.

Dinners with him are less awkward, when before you would sit in silence, hesitantly taking bites from food. You two now chat quietly about your day, each recruit, and sometimes about each other. You can actually enjoy the food and his presence.

He lets you call him Bi-Han now, not in public, but, when you two are alone, in a hallway, in your rooms, having dinner or breakfast privately, whichever situation calls for you two to be alone, he lets you call him by his name, and, it makes him feel vulnerable. It makes him feel loved.

He's always held your opinion in high regard, but now, it's honestly the only one that matters besides his own, and he does, silently, hope you aren't so tempted by power like he is.

Bi-Han may take longer to kiss or cuddle you than what most would consider normal, he loves you, he knows he does now, but, he's nervous, no, he's afraid. He knows he's a rough man, and he knows how uncaring and even violent he is and can come across as, so, naturally, he tries to avoid the subject. He doesn't want to do anything without your consent, but he's also far too afraid to ask.

It will take you to ask him, you'll need to make the first move, and when you do ask him for that first kiss, he gives you that small, hardly noticeable smile, and you both lean in, closing your eyes...

It's awkward. Maybe you know how to kiss, maybe you don't, but Bi-Han definitely doesn't, and, it shows. He feels slightly embarrassed at how lost he is, but, you two can learn together, and even just telling him, hey, maybe it wasn't the best, but, we can learn together, lifts his spirits an unnatural degree.

For the next week, the schedules become less strict for most Lin Kuei members, and any mess ups are met with less harsh, but still kind of harsh, punishments.

Kissing is basically ingrained into your schedule now, once in the morning on the cheek before breakfast, maybe once at lunch if it's a tough day, and always a peck on the lips at night before bed.

It takes less time to cuddle if you've already kissed before, sure, it still takes a bit long, but, so do most things with this man. Maybe it starts with holding his hand, or, sitting on his bed and talking about things, training gets hard sometimes, so perhaps you're just a bit tired.

You look up at him and quietly ask if you can just lay down for a while, or, maybe you just lay down yourself and wait for any objections, either way, he lets you lay down, and eventually, lays down next to you. Your hands hold each other tightly, your head is resting on his shoulder and it feels strangely perfect, despite how stiff his shoulders are.

This becomes semi natural in your schedule, but only after a long day, cuddling each other until you or him are on the brink of sleep, and then you return to your bed. You two still sleep in separate beds, that's just how he prefers things, no matter how much he trusts you, it's just more comfortable.

I'd recommend cuddling in summer, because, he's insanely cold and the winter is not at all suited for cuddle sessions between you two.

It takes a bit for you two to start calling each other 'boyfriend', not because Bi-Han doesn't consider you his lover, and therefore boyfriend, but because he sort of just assumes that kissing, cuddling, all of that, makes you together automatically, and, he doesn't like announcing his relationships.

It's not like he's embarrassed of you, he seriously isn't, but, you're the only person who sees the vulnerable side of him, and he prefers to keep it that way. None of the other Lin Kuei members, god forbid any one else, deserves to know your relationship with each other.

Dates are rare, extremely rare, you two have major responsibilities within the clan, and, Bi-Han doesn't trust anybody enough for them to run it while you two are away, so, the most date-like thing you'll experience is eating dinner together after every one has had theirs and left.

#bi han #bi han sub zero #bi han x reader #bi han x male reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x male reader #mk1 bi han #mk1 sub zero #mk1 subzero #mk1 x male reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat 1 x male reader #sub zero x reader #sub zero x male reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk1 #mk sub zero #mk bi han #mk #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat 1 headcanons #sub zero headcanons #bi han headcanons

[purinfelix]

joao x reader angst based off of that song Nothings New by Rio Romeo. Like maybe Joao is always ignoring reader in public or smthn. 🤭

nothing's new.

pairing: joao felix x reader (established relationship) summary: in which you learn dating a famous footballer comes with the price of secrecy warnings: angst, toxic relationships w/c: 790

a/n: ANONNN this request really hit me idk like it single-handedly brought my motivation to write back because even though it pains me, writing angst is just too fun sometimes .... its a little short but i hope you enjoy !!!

Before Joao, you had had an ex-boyfriend who, despite being nowhere near as famous, insisted on keeping you his little secret. Most of your ‘dates’ had consisted of you sneaking in through his bedroom window or accompanying him on weekly boy's nights which left you feeling uncomfortable at best and totally invisible at worst. Your relationship, if you could even call it that, was a part of your life you were glad was over. 

Telling Joao about this hadn’t been easy, but you had seen it as an obstacle to overcome as early on in your budding relationship as possible. And you had always planned to have a mature, serious conversation with him about it - but that was before it came slipping out one evening after multiple glasses of wine and several vodka cruisers. The two of you were sharing stories of awkward first dates, childhood crushes and all other things a young couple likes to get off of their chests over a dinner date, but before you realised it he was helping you stumble back to your apartment. 

You had thrown yourself onto your couch, chest heaving as you felt a heat radiating from your flushed face. Hands gently gripped at your ankles and you leant forward to see your boyfriend trying his best to take your shoes off for you whilst you tried your best to sit upright. 

“And he had the audacity to make it seem like my fault!” you mumbled, words slurring as your hand waved about angrily. 

“What an asshole,” Joao’s voice came from somewhere behind you now, probably as he was putting away your shoes by the front door. Even through your drunken haze you could hear the sincerity and sympathy in his tone, as you reached out a hand in his direction. 

“Well, there’s a reason I broke up with him,” you laugh weakly even though there’s no joke in your words. You hear the sound of his feet padding back over to the couch and suddenly his warm hand is in yours, caressing the back of it with his thumb. Even through your half-lidded gaze you can make out his eyes, which only look back at you with an earnest expression as he speaks. 

“I don’t understand how anyone could treat you like that.” 

It’s been months since then but his words still echo in your head now, as you make yet another unsuccessful attempt to reach out for his hand as he walks ahead of you. Not so ahead that you can’t keep up, but just enough that any onlookers and paparazzi can apss the two of you off as mere acquaintances, and not a couple. 

His hand dangles by his side and you yearn for nothing more than to take it in yours, the way you did that night and the way you still do most nights - but you have to remind yourself that most of these nights you spend in the privacy of your own home with your boyfriend. Because when you’re out, in the public eye, he stops being your boyfriend and becomes Joao Felix, beloved and renowned footballer who has yet to announce a romantic relationship to the public. 

You can’t remember exactly when it started being like this, but if you had to you’d put it sometime around the start of the most recent football season. It wasn’t like he had told you that your relationship would have to stay a secret explicitly, because he had all the implications in the world to do that with. He’d talk about other footballers and their relationships and constantly quote his agents advice of “not flaunting a relationship if he wasn’t absolutely sure it would last”. 

It hurt. There was no denying it. Watching your boyfriend oscilate between the most loving person you knew and treating you like a total stranger, and trying your best not to overthink how he played the role of a disinterested stranger a little too well. And it had taken you some time to get over the idea that maybe if you had been more famous it wouldn’t have to be like this. 

But still, you lived for those times, in the privacy of your own home, when your boyfriend would return. When you would be allowed to wear his jersey, his shirt, his arm around your shoulder and not feel immense guilt about it. When he would whisper sweet nothings as apologies, and kiss you like he meant it a thousand times over. When he would show his love to you like he had nothing left to lose, and your relationship felt real again. 

You could only wait and hope for a day when you weren’t the only one who knew about it.

#joao felix #fc barcelona #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix fanfic #joao felix oneshot #football fanfic #football #oneshot #joao felix angst #angst #purinfelix #jet answers ✧ #jet writes ★

[word-wytch]

Don't Stand So Close To Me

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 1/? 3.5k Series Masterlist

✏︎ Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him.

Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, perv!eddie, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

A/N: I've poured my heart and soul into this one.

Fourth period English was the only class that Eddie Munson could seem to pay attention in, though not exactly to the lessons. 

He propped his cheek against his knuckles as he watched you from the back of the classroom.

“See, everything is filtered through Holden’s limited first person narration, so we get really pure insight into how he sees the world, but we also have to take it with a grain of salt,” you said, delicate heels clicking against the tile floor as you paced back and forth. “We see what he pays attention to, and therefore what we ought to pay attention to as readers.”

Eddie’s eyes traced the curve of your waist, over the back of your tweed pencil skirt as you turned to place the chalk back on the ledge at the bottom of the board. It was hugging you in all the right places, as it did every time you wore it. His favorite.

“Alright let’s break out the quotes and notes assignment from chapter ten. Who would like to share their thoughts on a quote with the class?” 

Your eyes scanned the room. Students shifted in their chairs in an awkward silence before a hand shot up in the front row. 

“Nancy,” you smiled and gestured to her, “Take the floor.” 

“Ok so one of the quotes I picked out was where he says ‘I damn near gave my kid sister Phoebe a buzz, though. I certainly felt like talking to her on the phone. Someone with sense and all.’ I think it’s really interesting that he says that she has sense,” said Nancy.

Eddie barely registered a word of what Nancy said. He was too transfixed on your shirt, the way the fabric parted at the buttons when you leaned in just the right way. Sometimes if he was lucky he could catch a flash of skin, a glimpse of delicate lace from your bra. It almost made him wish he would have picked a seat closer to the front of the class. 

Nancy continued. “Right now he’s surrounded by very mature things at the hotel that he’s trying to make sense of and has really negative opinions about. He keeps thinking of his little sister though, and that’s always positive, so that’s in contrast to the rest of what’s going on.”

“Thank you, Nancy, that’s exactly right. A juxtaposition, very perceptive of you.”

Eddie shifted in his seat, feeling his pants start to tighten. 

“Does anyone else have a quote they’d like to share their thoughts on with the class?”

Chairs creaked, a few legs scooted loudly against the floor in the restless silence. A sniffle.

“Come on, Nancy can’t carry this entire class.” You tapped your fingers on the desk behind you. “Well, I know she could but I’m not going to let her,” you said, giving her a little wink.

Still silence. 

“Alright, fine.” You glanced around at the rows of averted eyes until yours settled on the young man in the leather jacket seated at the very back far right corner of the classroom. “Eddie,” you said with a gentle smile. 

His dark eyes shot up, face flushing. 

“Do you have any thoughts on what you read in chapter ten last night?”

Eddie licked his lips, casting his eyes downward in thought. “I uh,” his mouth was like cotton, “No I don’t really think I… understood the chapter,” he said, giving a sheepish grin. The soft pout of disappointment on your pretty lips made his stomach drop.

“I don’t think he can even read the chapter,” muttered the blonde athlete in the seat next to him.  

“Jason,” you began, but Eddie didn’t miss a beat.

“I don’t think you can even read your girlfriend,” he said, to which the class awakened audibly.

Jason shot daggers at Eddie. “Why don’t you quit talking to her and find a girlfriend closer to your  age, huh? There’s plenty at the senior home across the street.”

The class erupted in laughter.

“Stop it, both of you!” you shouted over the din. “The next person to make another sound has detention,” you said sternly. The class grew quiet again, allowing space for your voice to soften. “Eddie, please see me after class.”

“Oooh,” mocked Jason as he sat back and laughed.

“Jason, detention.”

“What? No!”

“I told you, the next person to speak has detention. I don’t make idle threats.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a satisfied grin as he watched you command the room.

“Please,” Jason begged,  “It’s the last practice before the game tomorrow.”

“No. You can use your time in detention to work on practicing some self control.”

Jason huffed and shot Eddie another glare but Eddie’s eyes were fixed on his desk, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his face contorted. It took all of his strength to bite back a laugh.

You sighed and leaned back on your desk at the front of the classroom. “Now then,” you started, composing yourself, “I’ll be very curious to read all of your assigned journal entries from this chapter, since clearly so many of you have something to say.”

Chairs shifted. A cough.

“Alright, pass them forward,” you said, gesturing to the class. 

The room was filled with the sound of sheets being torn from notebooks, binders opening, paper shuffling. The students passed the pages forward up the four rows and you walked by to collect them.

“Why don’t we spend the last fifteen minutes of class silently reading the book, hm? Then maybe tomorrow we might have something to talk about.”

You returned to sit at your desk with the papers as the students opened up their books. 

Eddie dug his beat up copy of The Catcher in the Rye out of the mess of his backpack. The red, soft cover spine was beginning to peel away from abuse.

He opened it up to a random page and began to gloss over the words but none of them registered. His mind was too full of other images — the arch of your back, the way you toyed at your lips with your finger in thought, of what you would look like bent over that desk of yours with him on top of you.

Fifteen minutes passed like this. The bell rang. 

Eddie waited in his seat as the other students filed out of the classroom, turning to bury the book in his backpack in an effort to avoid Jason, but it didn’t matter.

“Watch it, freak. I mean it, I’ve got my eyes on you,” said Jason, to which Eddie simply raised his eyebrows in mock fear.

After the last student left, Eddie slowly approached you, dragging his feet a little as he walked. 

You swiped the last of the chalk from the board with the eraser, leaving a small cloud of dust as you turned to face him. 

“Sorry for the outburst today.” The chain on his wrist rattled as he brought a hand to his chest, “I meant no disrespect,” he said earnestly. “Well, I did to Jason, but never to you.”

You returned a soft smile, “Thanks, I appreciate the apology even though I can see that you weren’t exactly the instigator.” 

“Yeah, well, Jason, like any basic primate, seems to think that any male who comes within three feet of his mate is a threat.”

A snort escaped you. Basic primate.  

Eddie’s eyes crinkled, his smile contagious. “Besides, Chrissy’s the one who came over to talk to me anyway.”  

You sighed and shook your head, not really knowing what to say.

“Sorry, I know, I’ll stop.”

You gave him a gracious look and took a deep breath to compose yourself, “Eddie,” you started.

His mouth curved ever so slightly as he relished in the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“We’ve been in class for about a month now,” you began, “You haven’t turned in an assignment in the last two weeks.”

Eddie scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”

“Now I might be new to teaching here, but I know this isn’t your first time in this class, nor your second. Clearly there must be some part of you that wants to graduate, or else you would have just dropped out two years ago, right?” you asked, searching his eyes. “You don’t strike me as the sort of person who does anything they don’t want to do.”

Eddie smirked, “It’s only been a month and you already know me so well, miss.”

There was something about the way that he said it that brought a heat to your cheeks. You tucked your hair behind your ear in an attempt to hide it. “Well, what do you think we can do about this little conundrum then? I don’t want to see you fail.” 

“I dunno, maybe I just… need a little help?” he said sheepishly.  

You hummed, bringing a curved finger to your lips in thought. “I want to help you, but you have to be willing to put in some effort.”

“I know, I’ve been totally slacking. That’s on me. I can change that,” he said assuredly, “I promise.”

You smiled softly at his earnestness. “If you’re willing to put in the effort, I would be open to tutoring you. I have some time after school today if you want to stop by my classroom, we can come up with a game plan then.”

Eddie’s dark eyes widened at the suggestion, “I’d appreciate that very much, miss.”

You gave a nod, “Sure thing. I’ll see you after school then. I’ll be here.”

 “See ya later,” he said, grabbing his well worn backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “Oh, and,” he turned back toward you, closing the distance between you even further. His eyes lingered over your lips for a moment before meeting your gaze again, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you half whispered.

You turned toward your desk to gather the papers in as neat a pile as you could manage with the frayed edges left by spiral notebooks and placed them in your fourth period grading folder. The bell rang out again through the halls signaling lunch period. You grabbed your purse from under your desk and closed the classroom door behind you. 

Walking through the halls of Hawkins High was like a strange recurring dream. Same drop ceiling, same tile floor. Same weird smell when you walked past the science room. The same cliques too — the jocks, the burnouts, the party animals. This time with less bell bottoms and fringe, more leg warmers and hairspray. Surprisingly little had changed. 

You opened the door to the teacher’s lounge adjacent to the cafeteria. The wood paneled walls and old carpet were much less familiar to you than the hallways and classrooms you had spent countless hours in. It was strange to be on this side of things now.

“How’s your day going so far, sweetie?” chimed Ms. Click, putting the glass coffee pot back on the warmer. 

“Oh, you know, just another day of pulling teeth from my class. I swear Nancy Wheeler was the only one who read the chapter last night.”

A swoon swept across the room. “Oh Nancy, she really is such a bright star isn’t she?” Ms. Click remarked, her voice sweet like table sugar.  “You know she kind of reminds me of you when you were her age, doesn’t she, Doris?” 

Doris O’Donnell hummed and pursed her lips with a little nod.

“Well, smarts-wise anyway. Boy I try not to pick favorites but you certainly were a pleasure to have in class. If I’m remembering right you were valedictorian, weren’t you?” 

You offered a weak smile, “Yep, class of ’74.”

“’74? Goodness it hasn’t been that long has it? Gosh we sure are getting old aren’t we?” she called over to Ms. O’Donnell, the beads on her glasses chain rattling as she laughed, “Oh goodness I don’t mean you sweetie,” she said, putting her hand on yours reassuringly, “Heck if I didn’t know you I would have mistaken you for a student!”

“Thank you Ms. — I mean Peggy.” You grabbed a mug from the stack and turned it over in your hands. #1 Teacher. The matte apple and text printed on the front of it was fading with age. You filled it with coffee and and grabbed a small open milk carton sitting nearby, watching the cream swirl in the mug before taking a seat at one of the three round tables with plastic veneer to look like wood. 

“Gosh, you know I don’t mean to pry, but with such a pretty face to match the good head on your shoulders I would have thought you’d have a different last name by now.”

You stared into your coffee, feeling the ghost of the ring on your finger. “Ah, yeah. Almost, but… it didn’t work out.” 

“Oh — I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s um — it’s fine.”

“You know there’s plenty of lovely young bachelors at St. Michael’s, we’re having a potluck tonight if you want to come.” 

It took all of your strength to hide a visible grimace. Sounds delightful. “No thanks, I can’t. I’ve offered to tutor a student after school today.”

“Who might that be?” asked Ms. Click.

“Eddie Munson.” 

The whole room groaned. 

Ms. O’Donnell cackled from her corner, her toad-like face contorting. “Good luck. I’ve been stuck with him for the last three years. Honestly I don’t know why he’s still in school. He’s too old to be here anymore if you ask me.”

Your eyes shot up from your coffee. “Well, he must have some desire to be here or otherwise he wouldn’t be. Isn’t it our duty as teachers to help students achieve milestones?” 

Ms. O’Donnell huffed, “Oh yeah, he needs help alright. None that I can give him though.” 

“I can imagine that help would be a difficult thing to offer while putting him down.”

She snorted, “Sure sweetie. Say some magic words of encouragement, that’ll do the trick. Hey, pick me up a little fairy dust too while you’re at it.” 

Laughter rang out across the teachers lounge.

Your lips formed a hard line as you popped open the tupperware container which held your salad.  

“Keep us posted, will you? We’re all dying to know how it goes.”

______

You could hear the lockers slamming shut as the din in the hallway began to die down, students filtering out with the last bell of the day. You flipped through the pile of notebook papers on your desk, making small notes on each one with a green pen before setting them onto the neat pile in front of you. You never liked to use red, too harsh. 

There was a strange feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t seem to shake. You wondered if perhaps the chicken on your salad had sat in the fridge for a few days too many. 

Your eyes shot up from your papers as you heard footsteps at the door. “Hey, Eddie.”

Eddie flashed you a smile and a little wave as he dragged a chair from the far corner of the room to the empty spot across from you and plunked himself down in it.

“How are you?” you asked.

“Oh, you know, just another day in suburban paradise.”

You chuckled dryly, “Yeah, you could say that again.”

Eddie fiddled with his rings, twisting them as he looked at you with those big dark eyes.

“So first off, let’s talk about the book we’re reading in class. Have you read any of it?”

“I did read the first few chapters, kind of lost interest though, sorry,” he admitted.

You nodded curtly. “The Catcher in the Rye seems to be a fairly polarizing book from my experience. Some students love it, others hate it. I myself am in the former camp, of course. I tend to find that most of the people who don’t like it just don’t quite understand it.”

Eddie gave a short puff of air through his nose. “I could say the same thing about most of the shit I’m interested in.”  

You smiled sympathetically. “Is reading not really your thing?”

“Actually, contrary to the opinion of a certain primate, I do like to read.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Really? Like what?”

“Fantasy mostly, The Lord of the Rings, really anything Tolkien writes. I’ve read those books a few times through actually,” he said, “Probably kind of stupid to read the same thing over and over when you could be reading other things, but — ”

“No, that’s not stupid at all! I’ve read them more than once too, actually.” Your eyes were sparkling. “They’re some of my favorites.”

Eddie sat back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips. “You? A geek? Never would have guessed.”

You smirked at him. You couldn’t quite tell if he was being sarcastic or serious. “Actually incorporating world building with storytelling the way that Tolkien does is something I’ve always tried to emulate in my own writing.”

“Your own writing?” Eddie shifted in his chair, leaning in.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, glancing downward, wishing you could suck the words back into your mouth.  

“You write books?”

“I… don’t know if you could quite call them books if they aren’t published, or totally finished but — I do like to write stories.”

Eddie’s eyes were enormous. “Can I read them? Oh please let me read them.”

The heat was back in your cheeks again. “Oh jeez, I don’t know, it’s been ages since I’ve even looked at them myself.”

Eddie leaned in even more, his elbows on the desk. “Come on,” his smile was so disarming, “What,  you think I’m gonna like, judge you or something?”

You looked down at the papers you were grading and clicked the pen in your hand. “I don’t know, writing is such an oddly… personal thing.” 

“Please? You know I’m like the last person to be passing judgement on something like that, right?”

You sighed. His eyes were big, and wet, and pleading and you cursed yourself for being stirred by them. “Ok, how about this, if you can get your grades up, get at least a B in one of your classes, I’ll let you read one of my stories.”

Eddie sat back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear. “Challenge accepted.”

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you met his smile, “Whatever motivates you,” you said trying not to think too hard about the implications of the deal you just made. “You know, what I really want to talk about is the creative writing assignment you turned in the first week of class.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That bad, huh?”  

“No! Actually not bad at all. Actually quite good. You’re very creative, Eddie.”

“Oh is that what they’re calling it these days?” he deflected.

“No, I’m serious. You’ve written stories before, haven’t you?”

“Well, I am the dungeon master for my DnD club.”

You squinted your eyes curiously at him.

“Oh! So basically, I come up with the plot of the story that they players are going to play. I create the world essentially, lead them through the story. Well, to some extent. The monsters are all from a guidebook but the plot is all me.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Creativity and leadership.”

Eddie chuckled and scratched the back of his head to distract from the heat creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah, well, doesn’t change the fact that I’m 20 years old and still in high school.”

“About that,” you started, “Why do you want to graduate? Maybe if you can identify the reason for reaching your goal, then you can find the motivation to work toward it. Besides wanting to read my stories anyway, like a personal reason.”

Eddie sat back in his chair for a moment, biting his lip in thought. “Uhh, maybe to prove all the assholes in this god forsaken purgatory wrong?”

You laughed, probably a bit too hard. “I think that’s an excellent reason.”

Eddie beamed. “See, I knew I liked you.”

You coyly returned his smile and fidgeted with the pen in your hand again. “Let’s figure out a day or two when we can meet weekly. Got any after school conflicts?”

“My band plays at the Hideout Tuesday nights, Fridays I’ve got Hellfire Club.”

“How about Mondays and Wednesdays then? Does that work for you?”

“Sure does.”

“Great, and I can help you with other classes too, to the best of my ability anyway. Show you how best to study, how to approach papers and essays — that sort of stuff.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said softly.

 The feeling in your stomach was back again. “Me too.”

______

Thank you so much for reading, tons more to come! Comments and reblogs keep me going! 🙏

Tag list: @ooo-protean-ooo @toxicjayhoo @mermaidsandcats29 @jadequeen88 @msgexymunson @wroteclassicaly @inknopewetrust @storiesbyrhi @kissmyacdc @cherry-vamps @willgrahamspsycheval

There are some of you are on this list who I talked to about this months ago! Sorry it took me a while to get this up but I’ve spent the last month outlining this monstrosity. That’s mostly out of the way now so updates should be pretty regular, like once a week. 💕

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x reader #my writing #Eddie munson older reader

[heartfullofleeches]

Alright awesome, uh aHEM-

Y/N trying to comfort Theodore: “Listen man I’m really sorry about the divorce, you two really loved each other so it must’ve been really rough.. If you need any help or just want someone next to you then know I’ll be right here for you okay? And hey on the bright side, there are plenty of fish in the sea! I’m sure you’ll find your one and only eventually”

Meanwhile Theodore is internally flipping out cause: Oh my god the divorce was actually a blessing in disguise she’s finally gone and fuck I think I really love Y/N and they’re sitting here comforting me and touching me I want them so bad what do I do fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

Theodore never liked coffee. The bitterness clung to the roof of his mouth and caffeine gave him jitters til next week if he drank too much. With the kids and all his school work pilling up, he needed something to keep him awake and everything else he tried had no effect. He experimented with different creamers and sugars, and created the perfect mix to help it all go down. He figured it wouldn't be too much of a crime to ask his then girlfriend to pick up his drink of choice whenever she bought drinks for herself - only to be handed a black coffee everytime.

"Ta-da! One iced latte. They didn't have that toffee creamer you like so I raided your fridge. Once you're feeling better, we really need to get you out of this house, mister."

His blanket falls from his shoulders as he reaches out. "... thanks."

His voice was hoarse and scratchy; startling even him as it crawled from his throat. It sounded foreign to him, but that's exactly what that woman did. Somedays he couldn't look in the mirror without seeing a glimpse of the shy, awkward teen he used to be - and the stranger that person had because. He was a wreck. He hadn't slept. He only showered when he had to pick up the kids from their grandparents. He hadn't eaten anything in days... until you brought him food. Back in your highschool days you'd pay him with his favorite foods in favor of completing some project you forgotten about. While his tastes had changed a lot over the years, he gorged himself on everything you brought until he felt ill.

Theodore tears the lid of the cup and swallows the concoction, not stopping for a breath. Your hand flies to his back as he chokes. "Take it easy, Theo. Give me that."

You pry the cup from his hands as you sit beside him, weighting his palms against his lap until his shakes quiet. "It's going to be okay. You'll find someone when you're ready to look again and I'll always be here to support you."

You always have been. Years went when he forgot about his own birthday and it seemed like the entire world had to - and there you were, cake and a new book in hand. You were his rock through thick and thin; a vow he made with his ex. The guilty euphoria when people mistook you as his spouse instead of her. Beside what he did with his kids, Theodore had forgotten what it was like to enjoy another's company - reminded each time you came around. He couldn't make this about himself. He couldn't.

"The kids.... Erin's still so young. How am I going to tell them."

"Sometimes, a separated home is better than a dysfunction one. It won't be easy and they'll always come before anything, but right now you need to focus on yourself and what you want in life."

Your hands tighten around his. What does he want? He wants to go back to the night he took that cigarette from her. He wants to scream and hit his younger self for following her at that party. He wants to go back and stop the arrangement that kept his mind off the study partner that always came up with an excuse when it was time to hit the books, but there when he needed them most. He wants to tell them how they made him feel. He still does. He wants to love you - and now he finally.... finally can.

"Hold me.... Please, I just want...you to hold me."

His glasses fog up. You wipe the tears from behind his lenses as your arms envelope him. Eyes misty, all he feels is the pull of your warm embrace and he breaks. Theodore wraps the blanket around you and centers his hearing on the steady beat in your chest. It's the most beautiful thing in the world. If he has that to listen to every night, he won't need caffeine - or anything else for that matter. All he needed was you. All he ever needed was you.

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere x you #yandere fluff #Theodore my oc #soft yandere

[filmbyjy]

COLLIE DUTY

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

THIRTY - layla the puptress

WARNINGS: none :D just Layla being a good girl🥹

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

Why were you so nervous?

Your hands trembled as you scanned through the most appropriate outfit you could find to just ‘casually’ hang out with jake. Which was weird to say considering he is still your boss.

Oh god, he’s still your boss…This was so wrong!

Maybe it was because you two almost kissed which made you forget he was your boss. Either ways, this wasn’t right but Jake was expecting you so you had to go over. As per usual, you made your way past the community gate and parked right outside of Jake’s house. Mrs.Matilda wasn’t at the porch so you assumed she must be having her afternoon nap.

You could feel the way your hands were starting to sweat. The nerves getting to you the closer you stepped onto Jake’s porch. You clicked on the doorbell. You nearly winced at the loud (fancy high end) doorbell he had, like a complete horror movie kind.

The black haired boy opens the door, a cute smile adorning his face. As he was about to say something, Layla perches at your legs and tries to somehow climb at you. Which was impossible considering how big of a dog she was.

“Layla, (name) is our guest. We don’t climb our guests.” Jake warns the puppy. The small whimpers Layla gave out was obviously hurting Jake’s heart so he gives a small ruffle to her fur and turns to look at you.

“Sorry, she’s umm…really excited to see you.” He says as he scratches his nape in shyness/awkwardness.

“is Layla excited to see me or are you excited to see me?”

“umm…both? god, I’m sorry.” Jake groans.

you chuckled, “it’s fine. this is our first time actually hanging out causally. usually, I would be over to puppy-sit Layla.”

“oh, right. wanna order something to eat? unfortunately, as you know…from jay, that I have zero idea how to cook.”

“sure, why not.”

This was very awkward…

You were sure Layla could feel how awkward it was because she started getting a little rowdy. Just as you sat down, she jumps onto your lap and starts licking your face.

“Layla.” Jake warns her a little. The puppy doesn’t stop until you were smiling genuinely. Jake pats the empty spot beside him to get Layla to sit next to him but she doesn’t listen.

She only whimpers trying hard to get you to feel comfortable. Ah if only she understood how hard it was to act around your boss who you were pretty sure knew about your crush on him. Maybe she knows.

“I’m sorry about her, I have zero clue why she’s acting this way. She usually listens to me very well.” Jake apologises.

“it’s alright.” You held Layla close and hugged her. She calms down a little. Her heavy breathing dies down due to her excitement. “She’s just really good at reading emotions sometimes.”

Jake tilts his head. He didn’t understand what you meant but it’s fine. Maybe when the time comes. For now, he could only hope for you to actually notice him making a move.

Or was it too quick? Was he moving too fast? Oh god.

Jake was internally panicking. Why was he so nervous around you? You were his secretary for 4 years now, he shouldn’t feel scared or nervous. It’s not like you were going to bite him.

Just as jake opens his mouth to utter something, his phone rings. He looks at you apologetically and goes to answer the call. You were waiting for him. It took longer than you expected and so curiously got to the best of you.

“Dad, no. I am not marrying her. She’s not the woman I like. What? What do you mean, I have no choice? That doesn’t make any sense. Yeah, I am growing old but I want to find a woman I like to marry. Not be arranged to marry.”

You felt sad. Well not for yourself but for jake. Why is it that rich young people always have to be arranged for marriage. You couldn’t help but wonder. The way jake paced back and forth while on the call with his dad only led you to do one thing…

“baby?” you called out. Jake turns around in shock. “you were taking too long, even Layla was getting riled up.”

You looked down at Layla and she seemed to get the note. She whimpers a little at jake. Her tail drooping and wagging slowly. “You said you would take 5 minutes…it’s been almost 15 minutes. I was worried sick.” You jutted out your lower lips, giving Jake a small pout.

Jake was frozen, he couldn’t say a single word. All he heard was his dad blasting him questions and demanded answers. However, that went a complete blur since his brain sort of short circuited.

Did you just call him baby?

“Sim Jaeyun.” His dad on the call says in a stern voice. Jake finally gets back from his little moment. He felt his face heat up.

“yes, dad?”

“who was that?”

“umm.”

“don’t ‘umm’ me. was that a girl? or more specific, was that your girlfriend?”

“well…she’s umm…” Jake looks up at you. “yeah…”

“shes my girlfriend.”

a/n: OOOOOOOOOO THE SPICE🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

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[slothgiirl]

an understanding

morpheus x reader. 5k. no use of y/n. yearning. the only thing i know about video game development comes from mythic quest. dont feed ducks bread (its bad for them) morpheus.

“You know feeding ducks bread is bad for them right,” you pointedly tell the stranger in black. The man was wearing 30 layers of black under the midday sun. You had no clue how he could bear wearing a wool coat in this heat. Sweat was already gathering around your forehead and you were in a gauzy shirt. 

“Oh.” His voice was deep, an alluring quality that would’ve made him a perfect audiobook narrator. He doesn’t look up, still hunched over his loaf of french bread: the good kind that was made fresh in store at some local bakery. 

“Mind if I sit here?” You didn’t want to sit on the grass. Lugging a towel on top of your laptop and bag was bad enough so you were really hoping for a bench, even one with no shade. It was just too nice of a day to spend working indoors. 

He doesn’t respond. Tearing another piece of bread, he pops it into his mouth, finally looking up, looking out at the park contemplatively. 

You decide that it’s okay. He didn’t say no.

He was obviously incredibly awkward or maybe didn’t get out much judging by his pasty skin. It was rather unfortunate too. Now that you’d gotten a good look at him he was cute in a way that would’ve thrilled you at twelve when you were wearing studded belts and obsessed with Mary Shelley and Trent Reznor. His hair was a hopeless mess: it’s color so black it seemed to destroy any sunlight that shone on him.

Too bad he was about as interesting as a pet rock.

Even the beta testers who were chronically online, still figuring out women at the ripe old age of twenty six (which you understood as your dating life was no better and all your hopes rested on Hinge) were livelier to talk to.

You were probably being too hard on him, you thought as you opened up the company issue computer. It was the fancy type that bent completely backwards. There were so many dialogue trees to work through. So many paths.

Sitting cross legged on the bench, you get back to work and try not to think about the man on the other end of the bench. 

He managed to make eating bread an incredibly depressing act; gaunt as he was, with a forlorn expression in his clear blue eyes. 

Clearly the guy was going through something. 

Refocusing on your work, you turn up the screen brightness and pull up your saved files for Project: Dracul City.

There were notes.

Bottle: get sent to old lady Constancia and gain +1 luck token 

Newspaper: uncover school turned shelter LORE 

Right. 

“Thirsty now, are we dearie,” you utter under your breath. You worked best like this, saying the lines out loud. At the office, no one batted an eye, but you’d gotten plenty of looks at cafes. 

No. That was too fairytale-esque. This was more survival horror. The words rich and velvet were also on the moodboard. 

“A bottle of wine to soften the blow eh?” You frowned. It sounded too young, too flirty. Old Lady Constancia ran a black market shop in the game. 

“Well then, a bit of liquor for the road? Better than anything in the tavern.” 

Again, it was wrong. The wrong feel for the setting.

“No need to ask how your night is going then.” There. You grin a little, reading over the dialogue tree that led here, skimming over Lady Constancia’s lines. There’d be no voice actors for this so the diction would have a lot to convey.

“What.”

“Huh,” you look up from your screen. You’d completely forgotten you were sharing the bench, speaking too loudly. 

“You were saying.” The man looks over at you for the first time. His gaze is no longer distant as he studies you. It was obvious you held his full attention in spite of how cold his demeanor was. 

“Nothing,” you laugh nervously, “I just-it’s something I do while working. Say what I’m writing to see if it makes sense. It’s a really good trick for dialogue. Sometimes what sounds good in my head sounds really awful to my ears. It was advice I got years ago in school. Really fucking helpful though.”

“You are a writer?”

“Ha, I wish,” you scrunch your nose feeling yourself blush. “Well, sometimes. I don’t know. I always wanted to work in video games and thought writing for them would be cool. And yeah, every now and then I think I’ve got a novel in me but I like my job. Sure-I’m not lead in anything yet but it’s fun to flesh out these characters and help build a world where people can escape into. Just look at early fallout, Kentucky Route Zero’s a really good one. . .” Your own sincerity embarrassed you. “I know,” you look down at your screen, the blinking | waiting for your next words, “most people play to blow things up and kill lines of code but, I really do think it means something to people. Give them a world to play in, create, dream. . .yeah.” God you rambling so bad. “I can stop if it bothers you?”

There’s the slightest hint of interest in the subtle relaxation of his expression, “Not at all,” he replies, putting aside the bread he had left, “There is nothing frivolous in striving to inspire people.” 

His words catch you off guard. He’d been so distant before, you were expecting a brush off. “Well maybe this line won’t impact someone but you never know what characters players latch onto.” Mariska Lutz’s tapes haunted you for months after playing Bioshock for the first time. 

The man does not reply again, watching the ducks hop into the murky water. 

You return to your work, making an effort to keep your mumblings quiet. 

It’s not until the battery low notification pops up on your screen that you look up again, shutting your laptop and stretching your legs out. Your left foot tingles hellishly, having fallen asleep. 

You look over, only to find that the man had left without a word, without making a sound. It was unsurprising. When you worked you got tunnel vision. That was the reason your pot of pinto beans had burned before. No enfrijoladas for you that day. 

Well, he had certainly been a character. 

*****

 You escape a hectic office where you’d spent the past week during crunch time as the demo went live, a short teaser of the gameplay for corporate who would never even play the game but wanted to see evidence that money would be made when the game released in time for October aka when everyone would be over school and the spooky month would fit the game’s design. You’d brought a tote bag with your lunch and snacks from the office. Nothing hit the same as lays with salsa valentina though you would like to know who kept using your bottle. You’d labelled it. As a last resort you’d taken to stashing it in your desk when you knew you’d be working from home. 

July. 

Kids were chasing the poor ducks back into the pond. A woman in leopard print roller skates took on hills like a pro. 

You liked the warmth of sunlight on your skin. 

You still wore sunscreen though. 

It’s Thursday but the park is packed. You try to look for any spot that has some shade, an open seat so you can enjoy a hard earned lunch. Your fingers have cramped from all the typing you’ve done in the last few days. You haven’t checked in the mirror but you feel like roadkill. 

It was about three in the morning when you’d started using eye drops to keep going, but the meeting was happening. You’d done everything you could for your team.

No luck.

The moms were out in full force today, phone in hand as their kids ran wild. 

Then- 

You spot the same man from your last visit to this particular park. He looks the same, only his coat is longer. It was like he was trying to get heat stroke. 

Well, the trick to adulthood was just going for it. Sharing a bench wasn’t the end of the world. 

You walk over. 

“Hello again,” you wave, “mind if I sit here?” You could always keep looking. There was plenty of time before you had to rush back to work. 

“No.”

You plop down, leaving space for not only Jesus but all his homeboys too. “Thanks. I feel like everyone keeps having the same idea as me, but I guess it’s summer and unless you take the ferry west we don’t have the best beaches.” You open the bag of chips and liberally pour salsa on them, “want one?” 

You hold out the bag, offering up your snacks to the man. He seemed less morose than last time, but was for sure managing to sulk under clear skies. 

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Instead he reaches into a white paper bag and slowly grabs a pinchful of birdseed to toss over to the ducks. 

You’re left holding the bag of chips long enough for it to be awkward before you shrug and dig in, sucking the salt and salsa from your fingertips. 

This is why you’ll never have a flat stomach. Five minute abs workouts from tiktok were not enough and you sure as hell were not giving up gansitos. There were some in your freezer waiting alongside a pint of ben and jerry’s. 

“You got birdseed,” you note, amused. He had been listening to you. A thrill of excitement bubbles up in your chest. 

He nods, the motion small. 

Your companion was not an expressive man.

“No fat pigeons,” he states neutrally.

You’re puzzled but shrug it off. “I’ve heard you can feed them oatmeal. But I’d probably double check that.” 

Finishing your tiny chip back, you fold it up neatly into a square and pop it back into your tote bag until you can toss it into the trash. Your actual lunch was  a cold tomato and fresh mozzarella pasta. 

Nothing exciting. 

You’d been at the office for practically a week, only going home to have a quick shower and pick up food. You were overtired. Food was fuel. You’d treat yourself tomorrow to breakfast at your favorite cafe. 

You idly eat as people bike by. 

It could use some more sauce. 

Your melancolic acquaintance continues to feed the ducks, lost in his own thoughts.

You stab a grape tomato, deciding to make conversation because what was there to lose. “I didn’t catch your name last time.” Last time, ha. You were really going on like there would be a next time. What was the chance you’d see him again? There’d been students in your same major you’d never shared a class with. 

The question hangs in the air. 

You chew the tomato, the juice spilling out into your mouth. It was tart.

You didn’t think he’d reply and were already considering fleeing. You could finish eating at your desk. 

“Morpheus.”

“Morpheus,” you repeat so you don’t forget, “like the Greek god of sleep?” At least, you think he was the Greek god of sleep. It had been a while, he might have been a mythic hero. 

“Of dreams,” he pauses, turning to you, his clear eyes peering into yours intensely, “and sleep. Yes.” 

It’s only polite to introduce yourself properly now. You wipe the corners of your mouth clean and reply, “Nice to meet you Morpheus,” feeling silly and giddy (flip flopping between the two similar states) as you give him your name. 

Blandly he states, “We have met before.” But with his attention on you, you catch the twinkle of amusement in his eyes.  The corners of his small mouth twitch in the ghost of a smile.

“All the same,” you beam at Morpheus, and finish your long lunch in quiet companionship.

*****

When you’re exhausted, you don’t even dream. Depending on whatever game you are working on, there’s weeks when you’re so mentally drained that you don’t even get under the covers before you’re out like a light. 

You’re pretty sure this is a dream. Your mind rested enough to dream.

It’s usually in the middle of the dream, in the middle of the scenery changing from a party in your grandmother’s house where a bird offers you a peach to you sitting on a trampoline that you remember from summer days at your childhood friend’s house before the trampoline broke and sent you both to the ER where you only had scratches only your friend isn’t there but a programer from your internship and hey maybe this was sign from your subconsciousness that you should text her-

You let out a breath.

The sky turns pink.

Yup, this was a dream.

You lean into it, letting it happen around you, letting your mind wander as the trampoline bounces lightly with Nina’s movements. It jolts your body, your brain swings around in your skull pleasantly like being in those massage chairs. 

A breeze runs over your cheeks.

You look at the blue of the trampoline border. Blue like the waters in instagram pictures. Blue-

The black trampoline washes away into dark waves and your favorite aunt lays in an innertube sipping on a cocktail, “I’m really glad we came to Hawai’i.”

“Me too. Though I’m still waiting to see a mermaid.”

“It’s great. I’m glad Lady Gaga approved the highway from San Diego to Hawai’i.”

“And we got to see those sea dragons!” 

“Exactly!”

You feel something by your leg and stick your head underwater. The water is so clear, you can see everything around you, including the dolphins swimming around you, leading you somewhere. Minecraft dolphins. You grab onto it’s fin, wondering where they want to lead you. Atlantis? Too see a mermaid.

From under the water you tell your aunt, “I’ll be right back!”

“Yeah-”

And your alarm goes off. Your dream rapidly fades as you wipe the sleep from your eyes and blindly grasp around your nightstand for your phone. “Shut up!” The alarm was so annoying. Shrill ringing in your ears when all you wanted to do was go back to sleep.

You send Nina a heart emoji on discord, followed by let’s grab some shaved ice. 

Then, you flop back on your bed and doom scroll for a few minutes before you have to sign in on Slack.

*****

It becomes a habit. 

Even as the weather takes a turn as fall sets in, you try and make it out to the park once a week, and without fail Morpheus is there. He’s not always feeding the ducks. But he’s always there and always leaves without saying a word.

You’re not offended when he barely acknowledges your wave as you sit down next to him. That was just what he was like. Morpheus suffered from perpetual resting bitch face because of his pouty mouth. You’d yet to see him smile. 

It didn’t matter. You liked his presence. You enjoyed having company as you got fresh air. 

He listened but rarely had much of a reply.

“It’s nice to go into the office and touch base with the other writers,” you muse, sipping at your drink, “make sure everything is coherent and I guess it helps to talk to people who are also living with this whole world in their head. It helps. The entire story’s been fleshed out by James, our lead.” You let the words hang in the air. Working from home was nice too. It lets you wake up at noon and crawl down the rabbit hole of your own imagination until three in the morning. 

Morpheus’ tilts towards you as he continues to watch the wind sweep through the trees. A trio of teenage girls had brought an entire charcuterie board and flowers for their park day. 

“Not to mention James does have to sign off on my work. I’m still pretty low on the totem pole.” This was your first full time gig out of school. Not an internship with terrible pay and long hours or freelance, but an honest to god full time job with benefits and pay that meant you could finally rent your own studio apartment. “Do you game?”

“No.”

You glance at him in profile. He remained as pale as the first time you’d seen him, but the gauntness in his cheeks had receded. There’s lines under his eyes that led you to believe he was closer to forty than your late twenties, closing in on the big 30. The Cut loved to post how everything changed at thirty. 

“It’s fun. I didn’t really get into them until high school but that was only because my parents bought into the whole video games cause violence schtick but like, I wanted to play pokemon not Call of Duty, at least when I was nine.” You smile, thinking back on fond memories, “then I started going over to Michael’s house after school and we’d play Zelda and Fallout. His parents were complete nerds who knew Klingon so they were cool about us playing whatever they were also playing.” Your parents would not have approved of Left 4 Dead. 

“I will take your word for it,” Morpheus tells you, sitting back against the bench. 

You sip your tea. It’s still warm enough that the ice is melting away, watering down the taro flavor. “Or you could come over sometime and play Stardew Valley?” You pick a tree and stare at it. You were nervous about his reaction. But it had been weeks. At some point you had to make plans and grab a burger or a drink. That’s just what friends did and if you left it up to Morpheus it would probably take a year. That’s all. It had nothing to do with how your heart sped up the moment you spotted his familiar head of hair in the park. It had nothing to do with the anticipation that had you smiling like a fool on Wednesdays when you routinely went to the park. 

He doesn’t respond, his expression dour. 

After a beat of silence, you find it within yourself to look at him. 

Morpheus meets your searching gaze with his own. You could see the emotions playing out in his blue eyes, but you could not read them. Like the eyes of a bird of prey, you could see the intelligence, the life and consciousness within, but lacked the ability to understand them the way you could read other people. 

The corners of his mouth lift, his smile a precious thing you couldn’t turn away if you wanted to. “Perhaps,” he allows. “Once the image of an avenging Mina Harker fills the minds of dreamers around the world.”

Smiling softly you reply, “Only if it’s successful.” You could never be sure with indie games. 

“It will be,” Morpheus states.

“I try not to focus too hard on what happens after it’s released and out of my hands. What will be will be.” 

He nods. 

You finish your tea. 

It was a lovely day. The August sun was not so harsh after four. There were less people as families planned for a return to school. The tourists stopped visiting the Northwest in droves. 

And maybe Morpheus would come over. 

That was more than you’d had yesterday. 

You could even show him the demo of-

You bite your lip, trying to think if you had let anything slip about Project: Dracul City. Developing games came with a strict gag order. Nothing could leak before it’s time, not the gameplay or plot or any of the concept art. Usually, you were pretty good about keeping quiet. 

Surely you hadn’t told him. 

And yet he’d known. 

You frown. 

“Do you wish to feed the ducks as well?” 

His words break your line of thought. You hadn’t even noticed the crinkling sound of the paper bag as he opened the birdseed up. 

“These ducks must be the most spoiled in all the public parks,” you muse, smiling at Morpheus before grabbing a handful of feed and tossing it lightly into the grass. 

It was exciting to see the ducks and birds come over. The shyer animals waited to see if it was safe. They all had their own personalities. 

You’re not bothered by his lack of response, the conversation stilling. You’d grown to like his taciturn ways. It gave what he did say more weight. He wore black like a uniform and over the course of the weeks in which you had been meeting up with him (undiscussed by either of you) he had become beautiful in your eyes. You wanted to run your fingers through his unkempt hair. You wanted to steal away his smiles for yourself: to know you could make such a dour man smile because he couldn’t help himself around you. 

You reach for more birdseed only to find that Morpheus had left. 

Figures. 

*****

Unsuccessfully, you try to wipe away the number written on the cup of hot apple cider, otherwise known as the perfect fall drink as the leaves grew into vibrant array of reds and oranges with the change in seasons as the days grew cold. 

The cashier had been nice, but you were only interested in one man. 

The sharpie doesn’t budge at all. 

You give up trying to get the sharpie off when you spot Morpheus. “Hey I got you a drink since it’s starting to get cold out.” It wasn’t coat season for you yet, but you’d started wearing a sweater while running all over town. 

You hold out one of the cups, the one without the number scribbled on it. 

His eyes widen, pink lips parting in surprise. But he makes no move to reach for the cup you’re offering. 

“It’s apple cider,” you tack on, “warm you right up.”

He blinks. 

You roll your eyes, “just take it and say thank you.”

It works. Morpheus nods, taking the cup from you, his fingers cool when they brush against your skin. “This was not necessary.” 

“I know,” you say, plopping down next to him. “But I wanted to.” 

“Thank you,” he inclines his head toward you. The sincerity in his voice is clear as a bell. 

Heat blooms on your cheeks. “You're welcome.” Again, you smile at him as you take a sip of your cup, “I can’t wait until the street vendors start having roasted chestnuts.”

“You enjoy winter.”

“Yeah. Some of it,” you laugh, “The snow can get annoying at times but more and more I find myself taking the time to enjoy the little things. It’s not like I’m working towards getting into college, getting a degree or anything anymore. I’m just enjoying life, yeah?” You flush. In your head it sounded wise, but out loud you just sounded naive. 

“My sister shares your thoughts.”

You arch a brow, “you have a sister! Older or younger?”

With a slight smile, Morpheus answers, “older.” He must be fond of her. 

“Well she’s right. It’s hard at first. I’d pick up flowers for myself and then think about what a waste of money they were but why not. I like having flowers. Or I’d make up excuses not to go out with my coworkers to stay in but if you do that enough times they’ll stop inviting you and you fall into a rut and that’s no way to live. And some people are so different outside of work.” The older you get, the easier being content becomes. 

Stop and smell the roses indeed. 

Then you ask him, deviating from your unspoken plans, “do you want to walk around?”

“If you wish to.”

“I do, but we don’t have to.”

Morpheus stands, and you take that for the answer that it is. 

******

The grass tickles your calves as you wander through the meadow. The sun paints the sky in hues of orange as it sinks below the treeline. 

It’s lucky it’s not raining. 

On your first trip to this national park, it had rained the entire time. Not surprising. Rain was a constant companion in this city, but it was more than worth it when you got this lovely meadow all to yourself. Wildflowers were sprinkled throughout the grass. 

You’d always wanted to come back, splurge on the fancy lodge instead of being in a tent and hoping the rain wouldn’t get through the plastic. Plans to come-

You blink, looking around slowly. 

Was this a dream?

You try to string your thoughts together: trying to remember how you got here. It was fall. Not spring. It’s hard, your brain feels like it's sinking into a thick comforter, the way it always feels when you’re on the border of deep sleep. 

Taking in the scenery, the solace, you let your train of thought dissolve and you give into the nonsensical logic of dreams, letting yourself fall back into deep sleep. 

It’s lovely. 

You sit down in the grass as the leaves take flight, butterflies in the air twirling in constellations before settling back down in the branches. These trees were unmatched by anything you’d seen before. It only made you wish to see more, go to more places. 

“You are fond of the natural world.”

Turning, you find Morpheus sitting next to you. His long coat is no longer black but a starry night. Stars twinkle in the depth of the fabric as you take him in with wide eyes. 

“Morpheus,” you’re delighted to see him.

And because this is a dream, you don’t hesitate to reach out, crossing boundaries without a thought, you brush your fingers over his shoulder, half expecting your hand to go right through and slide into an abyss of night. That doesn’t happen. 

Sheepishly, you meet his gaze. 

His eyes are black unfathomless pits with a sole pinprick of light for a pupil. At this, you draw back. 

Morpheus says nothing, regarding you carefully. 

You blink.

And when you can bear to meet his waiting gaze again, his eyes are clear as ever. It must have been a trick of the light. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you note lamely. The national park wasn’t exactly close. 

“I have business to contend with,” Morpheus replies, which leaves you with more questions than answers. You didn’t even know what he did for work. “We will not be able to meet in the Waking world for some time.”

“Oh,” you answer, crushed. It was ridiculous to feel so intensely about someone who was the equivalent of a classroom friend. You didn’t even have his number. Lin, your coworker, would call that a red flag. 

His words sink in and, “the waking world?” Now you’re just confused.

His brow furrows with concern. “We are in The Dreaming.”

“I don’t understand.”

Morpheus frowns. “This a dream, your dream.” The sky goes periwinkle as snow starts falling. “And I am King of Dreams, Ruler of the Nightmare Realms.”

“Oh,” you go, “should I bow or something?” 

Your words elicit a rare smile from the dour man. 

It made your smile grow, to know that you had made him smile. 

“There is no need,” the small smile stays on his pink lips. 

“No off with her head” you joke, accepting dream logic and not questioning it as you quote the Queen of Hearts. 

Morpheus frowns. “I would not be so crude.”

“Oh so I should be worried,” you wiggle your brows. 

“Not of me.” He utters softly, his eyes become glassy. “Not while you are under my protection.” Morpheus reaches for you. The back of his hand ghosts over your cheek. 

You lean into his touch without a thought. 

You meet his gaze unabashed. 

He blinks slowly, peering at you through dark lashes. There was a sedate romance to him that the Brontë sisters could only dream of. 

“I cannot stay,” he confesses with remorse.

“You did say you had stuff to do.” 

“I do.”

His hand is soft against your cheek. Neither of you move, resting in the moment, holding the pause for as long as possible.

Morpheus draws away, standing. Snow falls around you but the temperature remains pleasant. Snowflakes fall on your arms and do not melt. 

You stand. 

It’s the awkward point where you’re waiting for him to leave but don’t want him to leave and he’s dragging it out too. You’ve been through this plenty of times on friends' doorsteps as you chat and say goodbye and wait. 

He stuffs his hands in his coat. It touches the ground, melting away the snow around the hem with its soft red flames, more ember than anything. 

Morpheus makes no move to leave. 

You wait, taking in the sight of him. Snowflakes fall in his unbrushed hair. 

“Here,” Morpheus draws something from his pocket. 

“Oh.” 

He drops it in your outstretched palm without ceremony. Morpheus looks away as you study the object.

It’s a necklace. The chain is simple gold. It’s the pendant that catches your eye. 

Encased in glass are grains of sand. They swirl inside the glass on their own. 

“Thank you,” you look over at him. 

Morpheus nods slightly. “It allows you to enter The Dreaming at will.”

“A standing invitation then,” you wink.

“Yes.” He has a talent for filling words with a weight beyond their common vernacular. Morpheus’ gaze is heavy on you. 

You can’t parse out why this is so important, but it obviously is for him. 

You unlock the clasp, wrapping the chain around your neck. With your fingertips, you try to lock it. The clasp is impossible when you cannot see it.

The hairs at your nape get in the way.

“Allow me.” Morphues closes the distance between you. 

“Yeah, that would be great.”

He takes the chain from you, his fingers brushing against the back of your neck. He works swiftly, making quick work of it. 

The pendant hangs in the middle of your chest. 

Your heartbeat is hummingbird quick. 

Morpheus’s breath tickles your nape. 

You don’t dare move, fearing this is all a dream that will end if you do anything.

“I shall be expecting you.”

“I’ll be sure not to disappoint. Though it’s about to be crunch time and I’m not looking forward to-” 

His actions cut you off. 

Morpheus leans forward, his lips brushing against your neck chastely. 

You draw in a breath. 

The moment is over in the blink of an eye. 

Something witty, sure to ruin the moment, is on the tip of your tongue as you turn, looking over your shoulder. But he’s gone. 

****

The sand continues to swirl, defying gravity inside the pendant, when you wake. 

You play with it as you scroll through files, read through work emails, and desperately try to recall the details of your dream. 

You’ve never been more excited to sleep in your life.

#morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #morpheus x y/n #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman #an understanding #lmao i love miscommunication as a trope #to morpheus: he explained what he is perfectly #meanwhile readers like: idk whats going on but im into it #unedited as usual

[mysticovo]

hey so could I possibly get a scenario where Splinter is on about none of his sons will ever give him his grandchildren one day. He has zero hope. And s/o of Donnie is just like “Donnie has 5 robots that call him dad so you’re already a grandpa. Donnie maybe your dad’s feeling left out?”. What happens after this?

Omigosh yeaaaa!

~~~~~~~~~~

Splinter was bored out of his mind…..looking through the family album as his old Lou Jistsu movies played in the background. As he started at the pictures of his 4 sons as young children, reminiscing…he couldn’t help but sigh. All he wanted was to experience it again….having the small tots running around the lair. But…differently.

Of course his sons had to deny him of that feeling. He kept flipping through the pages. Eyes grazing over each one. ”Oh my sons…” He sighed out once more, not realizing he was thinking out loud.

“Splints? You alright?”, a calming voice called back. It shook him out of his thoughts as he looked up, seeing you with your hand on the back of his chair.

“____, yes…just thinking.”

“About…? It’s like that time your favorite show was over run by that…horrid puppet show.”, you paused and looked at him with a soft expression, “Don’t make me get Dr. Delicate Touch or Dr. Feelings.”

He sighed once more before asking real bluntly….“When am I going to get grandchildren?”

“Oh…oh!”

That was certainty not what you were expecting…but it had to come out some point. Apparently even Leo’s been thinking about it since he was what, 14? You’ve had to hear that conversation in some of Donnie’s old recordings from when they were kidnapped.

“I-um-well..”, you tried to find the right words but nothing sounded correct or be able to be verbalized. To say you were red was an understatement.

“I….I need to go and babysit Shelldon..”

And with that, you quickly left without another word. This was a conversation you desperately did not want to have…especially right now. As you walked through the halls of the lair, thoughts plagued your head. I mean…was that even possible?

Oh…it sort of was…

~~~~~~~~

“Dee!”

Your voice had rang through the lab, the sound of machinery was the only other noise. Once he heard it, he immediately looked up. Shelldon was currently curled up on his lap asleep as he worked on another turtle robot, this one a baby.

“____..”, his voice had a small breathiness to it as his eyes filled with love. You were basically a small family by now with all the robots calling you two their parents.

You sat on a stool and rolled over to him, stopping an inch away from him. Your hand made it’s way to Shelldon’s head and gently stroked it.

“Just had an awkward conversation with your dad.”

“When is it never?”, a small smirk laid on his beak as he continued to tinker with the small robot.

“Oh har har…but..I think your dad’s feeling…it’s hard to explain.”

Looking down at your lap and hands, Donnie slipped a hand into yours. He squeezed it softly and left a kiss on your hair.

“Scoff, describe it. Maybe my non dum-dum brain can make sense of yours.”, he really didn’t mean it in a bad way…more of a playful, teasing way. Sometimes it was certainly hard to decipher.

“He asked about grandchildren. I think…I think he might just feel left out of this whole entire thing..”

“He told you what?! I mean…he really shouldn’t have even done that! The pressure it would…just…nyeh!” He slammed his screw driver down onto the work desk and turned to you. “I am so sorry..”

“It’s not your fault…I asked why he was upset.”

“Still…”, He sighed, he gave you a look before giving you a pat on the head with his battle shell’s robotic arm, “Pops is just…look, I’ll talk to him. I’ve been able to scold him before and I’m not afraid to do it before.”

He then decided to go on a ramble of the tv shows and docs he was gonna rig to Splinter’s glorious tv/projector. As he ranted and rambled, your thoughts ran. “Donnie…what if he’s feeling sort of…I don’t know…left out? I mean we have Shelldon who he barely interacts with and he’s basically our son. Then this one..”, As you gestured to the two turtle robots, Donnie looked back at you with loving eyes.

“I guess I didn’t…calculate that factor.”

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. He sighed softly again before getting up, placing a small blanket Mikey made onto the unfinished robot.

“I’ll try to talk to him…”

“Without that tone.”

“Yes, yes…without that tone.”, Donnie softly laughed and rolled his eyes. With that, he walked out of his lab and lingered for a few moments.

“Hey _____..”

“Yea Dee?”

“Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea..” With a soft smirk, he finally left. Leaving you with a shocked face and your mouth opening and closing like a fish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey! Hope you all liked it, sorry it took so long! Ive just had a few things going on and stuff but I’m still working on and accepting requests! Like always, I’ll see you later my Mystic Deers! （＾∇＾）

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #donatello hamato #save rottmnt #donnie x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #scenarios #fanfiction #fanfic #~mystic’s~fanfic~

[igotanidea]

Species relationship (Cinnamon rewritten) : werewolf!Jason Todd x werewolf!fem!reader

Yes, I think this is way better than previous one. :D

***

„Where’s Jason?”

All the batfamily has gathered in the batcave, the only one missing being the wayward son, the black sheep.

“I believe he’s with that girlfriend of his….” Damian muttered with the roll of his eyes.

“Girlfriend?”

“Yes, father… a fellow female…. Ugh… I don’t understand that concept either….”

“Hm.”

“Was it like a good hm or a bad hm?” Dick chimed in. “I swear your grunts are sometimes so hard to decipher, Bruce…..”

“Who is she?”

“We don’t really know…..” Dick threw up his hands “He’s very…. protective over her….”

“Is she…..?” Bruce hesitated. Sometimes it was still hard to admit that werewolves and all the supernatural occurrences to come with it were real. Yes, Bruce had an open mind when it came to technology and reality, but accepting the fact that his second adopted son could transform into a hairy beast was… a lot. However, if there was anyone who could pull that thing off, it was definitely Jason with his 6.0 ft height and 225 Ibs weight.

Imagine the heart attack Bruce would get if it was tiny Damian with such skills…….

“Is she what Bruce?” Dick teased “come on, say it… you can do this….”

“Is she…..a werewolf?” Bruce hissed through clenched teeth.

“Good job, Bruce!” Dick laughed

“She is.” Tim answered, trying to mitigate the situation before someone does something regretful. “A pretty one from what I heard….”

“Who is she Tim?” Bruce turned to his third adopted son.

“How would I know?!”

“You have access to all the Wayne Technology and you’re you. Don’t tell me you haven’t googled her”

“I did no such thing! That would be a gravy invasion of privacy!” Tim made an innocent face that no one bought.

“Hm.”

“What?! I’m serious. You can’t just go and spy on people….werewolves… whatever. “ Tim said it with so much belief that Dick couldn’t help it and burst out laughing.

“Dick.”

“I’m not sorry Bruce. You’re definitely wasting your comedian and acting talent, Tim.”

“I’m being serious. She’s just a girl. A girl who turns into a giant animal every full moon and then sometimes…. It’s not her fault she imprinted Jason…. I won’t be searching for that poor unfortunate soul.”

“Imprinted?” Damian and Bruce asked in unison.

“No.” Dick says sternly. “Just no.”

“But…..”

“You’re too young to hear about it Damian.”

“I’m 11 years old, Grayson!”

“Precisely my point.”

“You will tell me everything……” Damian reached for his katana, but before he could actually do something, Bruce held him back by the cape. “Let me go father…… this is humiliating….”

“You will now go to your room Damian.”

“But….’

“I got some things I need to discuss with your brothers.”

And with those words and Bruce stern expression Dick and Tim knew. They were toasted.

***

 Regardless of what was happening in the batcave, Jason couldn’t care less. He was in fact meeting Y/N, but to say she was his girlfriend or that he imprinted her would be too much. There was something happening between them, but they never really put a tag on it. Besides, the whole concept of finding your soulmate just by looking at them was a false ideology blown by movies like Twilight and Jason scoffed (both internally and externally) every time one of his siblings (or honestly anyone) came as close as even suggesting it.

They felt good with each other, sure, but neither of them were fully convinced whether it was because of the fact that there weren’t really that much werewolves in Gotham and it was nice to have someone to go through the same struggles or whether they liked each other as humans.

Not that they had many opportunities to see one another in that shape.

Werewolf form was… comfortable. It was easier to hide oneself in all that fur and muscle and avoid unnecessary emotions. Being human meant vulnerability, awkwardness and too many words and feelings.

And Jason was not good with feelings. And, to say the truth, he never trusted them.  He was rather used to teasing, deflecting and covering that side with snarky, harsh humor.

At least until he met Y/N.

She was working at the little bakery in Gotham. The only bakery. Maybe that was why it was so easy for Jason to figure out her true identity.

It was not even a challenge considering the fact that as a human, she was always covered in flour and her wolf fur was a mix of tawny and white, almost as if someone sprinkled that ingredient all over her. And what was more, her signature dish was an apple tart with flavoring, and she always smelled of cinnamon. And wolf senses never fails, especially when it comes to nose.

What he didn’t realize what that Y/N was not only a simple baker girl.  And it was amazing what a smart head could do with the access to the Internet and some dot connecting.

Let me repeat: there weren’t many werewolves in Gotham.

For months it was their tradition to meet at the meadow on the outskirts of town to run together or hunt together or just do anything together. He used to swing by her place by the end of her shift, always as a wolf and let her tag along (of course he was not going to admit that he wanted her company. He was an alpha after all. ). So the surprise he felt one day when he showed up at the bakery seeing her as human, not ready for the unwinding was beyond words.

She was just sitting on the threshold of the shop, reading a book, but it was pretty obvious there was something going on in her mind. Again: wolf senses never fails and he could literally smell how distracted she was.

“I know who you are.” She simply said looking straight into his animal eyes.

Jason shook his wolf head. She couldn’t …….

“Jason Todd….”

Whoops.

“Wasn’t really hard to figure.” She shrugs. “You should cut on smoking it’s not good for your health and you reek of cigarettes.” It might have been the first time since they knew each other that he heard her laughing.

The way she acted was… doing something to him. For the hell of it he couldn’t figure why that light reproach made him feel…. Guilty. Chastened. Maybe it was unfair. He knew her identity, maybe he should have told her sooner? It was actually pretty funny that a giant, predatory animal let out a whimper and hung his head in shame in front of a girl, so much smaller than him. It was like at that moment, she got some power over him. A beta!

“Can I?” she asked reaching her hand for his fur and holding back before touching it. Only when he nodded, she tangled her fingers it his silky pelage. “It’s ok, Jason. I know it’s hard to reveal yourself…. Been there, done that… But you’re not alone anymore.” She cooed, caressing his back lightly. “We’re the same kind…..”

In any other circumstances, he would never let anyone touch him like this. But she was… different. The way she talked and comforted him… but surely it was only because of the wolf in her calling to the wolf in him. Kind of a “species relationship”, nothing more.

Definitely nothing more……

So why did he felt the sudden urge to nuzzle her and actually acted on it?

Just a species relationship……

It was month ago and their acquaintance developed.

He learnt that while being a little messy human in her wolf form Y/N was full of grace and gentleness. Acting like one of the Aristocats, even if the werewolves were in fact.. dogs. When she was hunting it was never bloody. She always took care to be clean of the mud, to avoid unnecessary dirt and to choose the nice paths to run in the woods. Each and every of her move were careful, thoughtful and intentional.

Absolutely opposite of Jason who was the perfect definition of running wild and free. But even with her queen-ish attitude she never complained. And he really appreciated that, since Y/N was so different from all the members of his family, who were constantly trying to shape him, tell him what, how, why and when to do (or nor).

With her… he could just be himself.

Just a species relationship.

And after a long night of patrolling he was searching for that freedom he felt with her.

Just like he was doing at that point, escaping the batcave, leaving Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian and all his Red Hood shit behind, running to the bakery just to spend some time with that beta.

It was purely coincidental that of late she’s been working night shifts, finishing in the very early morning. Her boss found out about the little ailment of her which was hypersensitivity to light. To put it simply, working during the day was nearly impossible for her since she was becoming half-blind, getting clumsy and ashamed of said incapability. But still, she was the best employee, letting her go was not an option, hence the work schedule alteration.

Pretty lucky work schedule alteration.

Pretty lucky work schedule alteration that gave them opportunity to spend some more time together.

But still it was just the species relationship.

Nothing more.    

And his wolf heart definitely did not start beating faster when he saw her turned into that majestic animal, waving her tail awaiting his arrival.  When she senses him approaching she tilted her head playfully, imitating the way she used to do as human when something got her attention and her eyes sparkled.

Jason let out a single howl as a form of greeting. Of course, he had to show off. He was an alpha and had to underline his presence and position. And it scaring the shit out of Y/N’s coworkers came in pair with that, he was more than willing to tease those people a bit. Even if his werewolf female friend shook her head in disapproval and was definitely going to tell him off later.

He knew better. He knew she liked him being like this and her every action was only proving that theory.

However, at the moment they were just looking into each other’s eyes. Two giant animals in the middle of the city, lost in the connection they had. Just a for a second though, because Jason got a bit scared of what Y/N may see in his mind if they were standing like that for too long and started running, signaling her to follow him. 

She just couldn’t ignore the calling of an alpha. Her alpha. It was too strong to disobey so she followed right after him, keeping safe distance to avoid getting hit with the dust he raised. She was a lady after all.

Soon enough, with their speed, they reached the meadow in the forest. Their spot. Their place for relaxation and sleeping after a hard day (night) of work.

Jason just tumbled to the ground not having a care in the world, but Y/N took a few turns to make a proper place for herself and settle down. The sun was about to raise and she needed a spot in the shadows to avoid extensive exposure. Even  if in her wolf form she wasn’t really prone to the light sensitivity, it was a bit of a habit now. Not every human instinct was turned off during transformation.

Unfortunately, the place she choose was too far from Jason for his liking as he raised onto his paws and moved closer to her, laying close enough that if they were humans they would be cuddling. And this time she couldn’t care less about his dirty, messed up fur.

It was Jason.

It was her alpha.

And she was the part of the pack. She had to obey.

Obviously only because of that she let him approach her and lay his head next to her, their noses almost touching, their tails waging happily at the presence and warmth of one another.

Only because of that she felt comfortable and safe enough to close up her eyes and enjoy that fuzzy feeling inside her. 

Only because of that she let him shift his position slightly so that he laid in a way that would give her additional protection from the light. Just in case.

Only because of the pack thing they let their guards down, slowly drifting off to sleep, away from all the people, away from reality, lost in one another. Protected by one another .  

Species relationship, my ass.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #jason todd au #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #red hood x oc #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction #red hood fluff #werewolf!jason