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steddie-my-love · 7 months

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Cleaning Frenzy

Mike Schmidt x OCD!Reader

a/n: i was just diagnosed with ocd and am really struggling with it so here’s a super self serving fic

cw: vague mental health discussion, mentions of anxiety, non-sexual nudity

—

your hands screamed in pain under the hot water of the faucet. there was no way of knowing how long you had stood in front of the sink scrubbing at the perfectly clean dishes in front of you but you knew it just wasn’t right.

behind you, the door opened and closed with the slight jingle of keys. He tried his best to be silent as he toed off his shoes, happy to slip into bed with you without a second thought but stopped when he saw the kitchen light still on.

“baby?” Mike’s voice called out in the silent apartment. You were normally asleep by now.

You stilled, not having realized the time. immediate overwhelm and shame gripped your throat as you looked down, taking in your cracked hands.

“y/n?” he asked a little louder as he turned the corner into the kitchen doorway. his eyebrows creased as he looked you up and down.

“Baby, what’s happening? are you okay?” he asked gently, speaking low as if anything louder would shatter you. A shallow breath drew through your lungs, doing everything to keep the creeping sense of anxiety at bay. “yeah i just- i couldn’t get the dishes clean and everything was so dirty and i just-“

“baby breathe” mike said, cutting you off as your mind began to spiral “you think you could put a hand on my chest?” he asked, not wanting to push you too far.

Your hand moved up, trying to touch him on his chest but you just couldn’t. There was no way of knowing what was on that fabric and it terrified you. Fresh tears sprung into your eyes as you tried again, desperately craving mike’s warmth.

“oh god, it’s okay y/n. you’re safe” Mike said, trying to soothe you “ how about we go and get clean then we can get some rest huh? that sound good baby?”

You nodded slowly, following mike as he led you to the shower. While you set up the water mike washed his hands before he pulled out two towels fresh from the cabinet. As you climbed behind the cloth curtain, mike hung up the two towels before following you in.

mike quickly took his loofa and scrubbed down his body, the smell of leather and pine greeting your nose.

Then it was your turn. you took the sweet smelling body wash off of the shelf and began to lather it in a wash cloth. your body was clean in no time, counting out the swipes over your skin making sure that everything was clean.

the panic seemed to drain out of you as you watched the soap bubbles fall, body losing tension quickly.

“ there you go baby” mike cooed as your eyes slipped closed, opening up his arms for you to fall into. immediately you leaned into him, chest warm against your skin. “you want me to do your hair or do you want to do it?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“can you do it please?“ you murmured, tracing patterns onto his skin as you avoided eye contact. Before you knew it, mike’s hands were in your hair scrubbing and detangling your locks. You must have started to doze off before you felt the water shut off on your back.

mike stepped out of the shower quickly to wrap himself in a towel before wrapping you up as well. in your room you both changed, mike throwing your hair in a loose braid to stop it from tangling while you slept.

“there you go gorgeous” mike said, kissing you on the forehead. At this point you were exhausted, eyes slipping shut as your energy caught up with you “one last thing!” he said, and before you could blink he had pulled out a small tube of cream and was working it into your hands. “there you go baby! i know how chapped your hands get after so much activity”

“thank you so much mike, i love you” you said, slipping under the covers next to mike.

“i love you too y/n, try to get some rest” Mike replied, but you were already asleep

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #ocd!reader #fluff

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elliesmainhoe · 1 year

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hey, i saw your hcs of Ellie x adhd reader and i literally loved it

the question is can you write Ellie x ocd reader i would love to read something like that

i didnt saw anything like that and i had diagnose few weeks ago so it would be cool to read how Ellie would react to some weird stuff reader doing maybe more comoulsion like contamination one where reader cleaning everything and not touching stuff for some reasons or counting things doing some stuff few times cuz its safer this way

of course if youre not felling okay with this thats totally okay and i understand this

have a nice day!

Ellie Williams Headcanons: Reader with OCD

Ellie is so thoughtful <33

You often get very paranoid about leaving the doors and windows unlocked at night

Before you lived with Ellie you used to do at least 4 rounds around the house, checking the locks and jiggling door handles to reassure yourself.

However once you'd moved in with Ellie she did all of your rituals with you, trailing behind you as you double check the locks, making sure you turned off the gas and your hair straighteners.

So that when you toss and turn at night, afraid you'd missed something she could be able to calm you down WITH EVIDENCE.

Ellie carries around hand sanitizer, cleaning wipes and general to-go hygiene stuff.

She knows how obsessive you are about cleanliness, and you often freak out when you haven't washed your hands recently-

Helps you calm down, sometimes you clean your hands so much, your skin turns pink and sensitive, scrubbing so much at yourself until it hurts.

So she offers you her alternatives (cleaning wipes, hand sanitizer etc etc)

You often reorganised your closet, your makeup, the kitchen. Anything really.

You could spend hours upon hours cleaning and reorganising your space. And often times you do

She's very helpful of course- lets you do your own thing, but making sure you do everything you need to aswell. Cooks you dinner, reminds you to take breaks and drink water.

--------------

I don't have OCD so some mannerisms might be incorrect <3333

Hope u like this nonnie

Taglist: @aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @eywaskisses @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho @mufflaa @mial1l @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @ellies-girl @escaping-reality8 @magicalfreakcowboylawyer @hejdevkdbdjsd @dergy @half-of-a-gay @ellieismami @cyberlainn @gollumsmygel @sseorii @kyleeservopoulos @taloulalila @ellieluhme @kiiyoooo @delusionalvioleht @joelscharm @hi2647 @gumdropkoo @coffeeandbookskeepmealive @womaniza @namgification @kimiisims-blog @tayyyystan @abigaillovestoread @whoreshores @kylieeluvstlou @knowitsforthebetterr @endureher @erikaar @lanasluverr @sayah13 @ilovebufflesbians @srryhoneyy @222fine444u @jade1212 @frogtits1 @casually-simping @amoebagrl

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yellowroseswrites · 1 year

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This one is more of a cathartic work than a comfort work, but if you need an outlet or something to call you out then you have certainly come to the right place. This is a part of some quick blurbs I wrote while I wait to post my longer fic requests :)

[TW, PLEASE READ, I cannot stress enough how triggering this fic could be. It is written mainly from an overthinking, self hatred, train of thought pov and its filled with terrible things about readers self image. It doesn't have any comfort at the end, only crying. Again, it's more of a vent fic than a comfort fic, please don't read if you think it will trigger you. If i missed any tw pls let me know. Feel free to reqiest a blurb in my asks ! <3]

Modern! James potter x Fem! reader-

"Pretty Girls"

It had been four hours. Four full hours of you scrolling through tiktok only to find every girl who was prettier, skinnier, and better than you. You had tears in your eyes, but you couldn't find it in you to stop scrolling. You had to figure out how they did it, you need to know how to make yourself look like they did and talk like they did and smile like they did and walk like they did and move like they did. You had to make yourself be like them.

James knocked gently on the bathroom door, "Baby," he started, "It's been awhile, are you okay?"

Of course you weren't okay. They were pretty. They were skinny. They has straight teeth. They weren't sitting alone on the cold bathroom floor praying that they could fall asleep and wake up in a different body.

"Love?"

And James, poor James. He's so perfect, so correct. He deserved a pretty girlfriend, He deserved someone who could make him feel good. Someone who wouldn't hurt him when they sat on him, someone who knew what they were doing and could do anything they set their mind to.

"I'm coming in okay?"

The door knob clicked as it opened. You didn't hear it. You couldn't see the concerned look on James' face through your tears. You couldn't feel his hands on your shoulder, in fact, the only thing you could feel was the bile raising in your throat. You felt weird, you felt gross. You felt so full of hatred towards yourself and you didn't know where to put it. You didn't know what to do with it.

"Hey, look at me. What's wrong?"

You looked at him, but it only made you feel worse. He was so pretty. You focused on the feeling of his hand on your shoulder. It was a nice hand, a great hand even. You didn't deserve that hand.

All of a sudden all that you could think of was to get away from him. You were going to contaminate him with your grossness. You couldn't do that. You pulled your shoulder closer toward yourself and pulled your knees up into a ball. When James tried to move closed you swatted at him with your arms,

"No, no, no, g- go away."

You could barely get words out. You didn't want to speak. You didn't have a good enough voice to speak. You wanted to be gone, you wished more than anything that you could disappear. You put your head against your knees and cried. You cried and you cried and you cried and you didn't stop.

James didn't try to touch you again. He sat back against the wall opposite of you and cried with you. He didn't cry because he didn't want you. He didn't cry because you swatted him away. He cried because you were in pain and he didn't know how to make it stop.

Neither of you knew how to make it stop.

#comfort fics #yellowroseswrites #x reader #x reader fic #intrusive thoughts #ocd!reader #overthinking!reader #self hatred fic #cathartic fic #vent fic #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #tell me if i missed any tags

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x-neurodivergent-reader · 2 years

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Headcanons: 13th Doctor with a companion who has OCD

A/N: I must admit, I’m not particularly happy with this one (not sure why – I guess I feel like I could have done more with this idea, but didn’t quite feel able to?)… But I’ll let whoever reads this decide whether or not it’s still good. If it is, then enjoy!

The reader here is gender-neutral.

Content warnings: Some angst (not that different from my Master with OCD!Reader headcanons, but without the Master-typical violence)

Tag list: @agent-barnes40

Even if she isn’t the best at comforting people, the Doctor does want to be there for you in any way she can. She can imagine how frustrating, overwhelming, and sometimes even outright frightening such a disorder can be, so she does her best to try to help you through it.

She won’t judge you for your rituals, no matter how illogical or odd they might appear. She understands that the way OCD works can be strange sometimes, so she won’t bring attention to that aspect of it, unless it’s to assure you that you should do what makes you feel safer, as long as it isn’t hurting you.

If your intrusive thoughts are centred around morality in any way, the Doctor can likely relate, given the many points in her lives where she took more morally dubious actions, and thought lowly of herself as a result.

When it comes to travelling, she’ll try to help you find ways to help ease or cope with your anxiety as much as possible in situations where you might not be able to do a ritual.

It might take a decent amount of trial and error, but since she doesn’t want you to get especially anxious from your OCD alongside the stress that comes with your adventures, she does what she can for you, if you want her to.

If your thoughts involved something terrible happening to either of you on an adventure, the Doctor might encourage you to take a break from travelling with her until they ease off.

She isn’t likely to outright “ban” you, as she trusts you to make your own decision on whether or not you can handle travelling while having those thoughts eating at your mind – but she’ll encourage you to do what’s best for your own mental health, even if it means leaving until the subject of your OCD changes or, again, you find some measures that make it more bearable to deal with.

The Doctor prefers not to use her psychic abilities on other people unless the situation really calls for it, so it might take some convincing – but she can agree to use them to calm your mind, if you ask.

She’s most likely to agree if you want her to do it because your rituals are constant to the point of being especially debilitating, or your thoughts are horrific enough that it’s taking a toll on your ability to feel safe at all, or your self-image. If her using her abilities is the only way that you can feel able to function in your day-to-day life, then so be it.

It obviously isn’t a permanent solution, but it’s nice to get the weight of the intrusive thoughts and constant anxiety out of your head for a bit. And she won’t fully admit it, but making that connection with someone she trusts as much as you might just calm down her own rampant mind, too.

#thirteenth doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x you #thirteenth doctor x y/n #thirteenth doctor imagines #thirteenth doctor imagine #doctor who imagine #doctor who imagines #doctor who x reader #doctor who x y/n #doctor who x you #13th doctor x reader #13th doctor imagine #13th doctor imagines #13th doctor x you #13th doctor x y/n #neurodivergent!reader #ocd!reader #My Imagines

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contradictorypenguin · 2 years

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Cracks

Summary: For someone with OCD, going out for a simple stroll isn’t always a walk in the park. When your compulsions act up and you find yourself frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, Steve goes the extra mile to help you through.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OCD!gn!reader

Word count: 1,031

Warnings: A tiny smudge of angst maybe? Vague depictions of intrusive thoughts & compulsions, Steve being a strong boi, if you really squint there could be references to the reader’s weight, but Steve is so strong that I don’t think it matters, reader’s gender isn’t mentioned so you can read it either way

Disclaimer - Not everyone experiences OCD the same way, so this might not be applicable to everyone’s experience. I have OCD, so I based this off of some of my own compulsions and my desire to have a sweet and accommodating partner because I am single and alone <3

It was an absolutely gorgeous day. The sun was shining cheerfully and the air was warm, but there was just enough of a breeze blowing to keep it from being too hot. There were flower bushes flanking the sidewalk to the left and the right, and the blossoms sent a delicious floral fragrance through the air.

If there was any situation more romantic, you hadn’t found it yet, and from the way your boyfriend looked at you as he held your hand was any indication, he agreed.

And to top it all off, the sidewalk itself was fresh and new, and the cement had practically no cracks in it – so while your ever-present OCD was still making you avoid all of the cracks and the spaces in between each square, it was easy to avoid them, and you didn't feel particularly anxious or tense. Steve's natural walking pace was ridiculously fast, so he always made sure to match your pace when the two of you went out for a walk. All you had to do was take it two steps to each square, and just like that, you avoided all the cracks.

He knew about the OCD, of course, and you could tell that he noticed how frequently you looked down at your feet, checking to make sure you were still stepping in the right places. But he also knew that if you wanted to talk about it, you would, so he didn't bring it up. You appreciated that about him.

“This is the place where you first met Sam, isn't it?” you reflected, thinking back to the stories he'd told you.

Steve nodded, smiling. “He was the only other person crazy enough to be out running at that time of day.”

You grinned and started to laugh along with him, but the giggle died in your throat when you saw the stretch of the path ahead of you – instantly, instinctively, you stopped in your tracks. You didn't even have time to warn Steve you were stopping, and you had to let go of his hand to avoid being pulled forward.

Steve turned around, shooting you a puzzled glance that quickly transformed to one of concern when he saw your face. “What's wrong? Are you alright?”

“It's- I- I'm sorry,” you stammered, feeling anxious and embarrassed at the same time. “It's just...”

Helplessly, you gestured at the ground. He followed your gaze, and as soon as he saw it, he understood.

Bricks. The worst type of walkway, the most painful form of pavement, the crappiest kind of concrete; bricks. It was like they'd been specifically designed to make you anxious. Each brick was smaller than your feet, which meant that there wasn't a single safe place for your foot to land – every single step would cover a crack. You could try to tip-toe over them, but the stretch of bricks went on for a few yards, and you probably wouldn't be able to cross safely without touching a crack. You tried to follow your first instinct and just go around them, but the sidewalk was flanked by flower beds here, and you wouldn't be able to get out without trampling them.

“Sorry, I'm sorry,” you blurted out again. Already, the guilt was sinking in for ruining such a perfect afternoon, and your intrusive thoughts were taking advantage of your anxiety and flooding your brain. “I just- I- I can't- urg!”

“Hey, it's okay,” Steve assured you, stepping off of the treacherous bricks and back onto the safety of the sidewalk. He wrapped an arm around you and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “You don't have to apologize, it's okay. What do you need?”

You shook your head, unable to produce coherent words. “I don't- I don't know. I don't know what to do. I can't walk over those, I just can't do it, but I can't go around them without ruining the- the- I don't want to- god, I don't know.”

“It's okay,” he said again. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? We can just stand here for a minute if that's what you need.”

You did your best to oblige, taking a few shaky breaths in through your nose. Steve was right – you weren't in any danger, and you had to remember that.

“So... let me ask you this,” Steve said slowly after a few moments of silence. “If you can just get across the bricks, you'll be okay, right? You just need to get back to the smooth sidewalk?”

“Well... yeah,” you confirmed. “But I don't know how I could possibly – ahh! STEVE!”

With barely a split second of warning, Steve hooked one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, and suddenly, you were lifted off the ground. With another yelp of surprise, you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck to hang on.

“Steve!” you admonished, though the giggle in your voice made it clear that you weren't really angry.

“Well, you couldn't go straight, and you couldn't go to the left or the right, so I just figured... why not go over?” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

He crossed the section of bricks quickly and casually as if you weighed nothing more than a feather, and you were once again reminded of his strength. By the time he set you down on the other side, he wasn't even slightly winded. The second your feet touched the smooth concrete again, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you. Really, I mean it. Thank you so much.”

Steve smiled and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead. “I'm happy to help. If there's ever anything I can do to make things easier for you to handle, you just have to say the word. You know that, right?”

You nodded. “I do.”

With a cheeky grin, he added, “Plus, you're cute when you're startled.”

“Steve!” you swatted him on the arm, but you were beaming.

He offered you his hand once again like a perfect gentleman. “Shall we?”

Happily, you took it, and the two of you walked hand-in-hand into the gorgeous afternoon, leaving all of the cracks behind.

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swordsandholly · 2 months

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Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

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lw6-woso · 6 months

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coping mechanism (Leah Williamson x reader)

OCD, it was something. when you first joined the Arsenal squad in 2018 the girls took notice quickly that you were some one of a clean an organising freak. the first time they really noticed was when they walked into your apartment for a team bonding night. everything was highly organised, you books you food and everything was perfectly clean like it was really impressive.

so when you and Leah moved in together, Leah got first hand of the struggles of our OCD and not just been organised and neat. the anxiety, the mood swings all the bad things Leah has witnessed.

it was a normal day and you both had just gotten back from training, you both showered and Leah went to do some work in the office whilst you were doing some organisation in the kitchen since it was getting on your last nerve. you were currently taking out everything from the cupboards and cleaning the cupboards, the things in the cupboards and then organising everything.

Leah had walked in half way through you being in your moment, and signed knowing that you were getting bad, that's what the girls like to call it it was stages, you would clean simple for example hoover and polish, you would clean excessively like lamps and do a real spring clean and then you would slowly get worse with organising closets, clothes and then going through the house and organising every part of the house over and over again. during these stages your wellbeing would get worse with your mood changes, sleep it would all get worse. worse was a key word in this situation.

Leah always struggled with this sort of things, never knowing the triggers as you didn't even know, it just happened.

"hey baby what you doing" she asked leaning on the door frame.

"this kitchen has been bothering me for a while" i said finishing off another cupboard.

"okay so what do you want for tea tonight" she said not knowing if the kitchen will be in cooking conditions tonight.

"takeout" you said almost instantly.

"okay what food you thinking" She said.

"i don't know I'm not that hungry you can choose love" you said to her and she nodded leaving you to it. Leah walked back into the office and ordered food and and asked Kim for some advise.

you were really getting along with the Kitchen finishing all the cupboards and sweeping and mopping before leaving the kitchen. you were walking towards the office still feeling awful you couldn't even describe the deep feeling you had within you. walking into the office you sat next to Leah fidgeting about.

"come on" Leah said getting up and grabbing your hand.

"what" you asked.

"we are going for a drive" she said as you walked out of the house. you didn't question what she was doing. you just let Leah drive off.

"what about food" you asked.

"we will pick it up" She said, and you did just that you picked up the food and continued to drive and drive hoping it'll clear your head. Leah parked up in front of the sunset, you sat there in silence not knowing what to say.

"what caused it" she said and you knew exactly what she was going on about and you knew the answer.

"my therapist suggested to change my prescription" you said.

"oh love, why didn't say anything" she said.

"i don't know i just thought id be fine" you said.

"so how do you feel about it all" she asked.

"in my gut i think its good idea like i haven't had to many slips and I'm progressing with everything but in my mind i think that if it change everything its just going to get worse and ill end up like i did after covid and i cant do that again" you said.

during and after covid was awful for you the germs and the news go to you and to summaries it all you refused to play football and when you did start to come back to training you went through a breakdown and you didn't come to training or play for almost a month.

"you won't because you have a strong support system and i think personally i think that you should try to change your dose so then if it doesn't work then you really know where you are and if you are improving and if it does work then your getting there its a long process as you know" she said.

"yeah" you said.

"one step at a time" she said and you looked at her and kissed her.

"i love you" you said to her.

"i love you more" she said back.

"not possible" you said to her kissing her again.

"right lets get home I'm shattered" Leah said and you agreed it had been a long day.

you both went home and straight to bed. over the next couple of weeks you agreed to change your dose and it had been the best decision you had made during the journey, you felt more free. you obviously had your moments with cleaning, that will never change as you were always a clean person before your diagnosis, but Leah was right with having a strong supportive system all the girls were rocks, and Leah especially having her to come home to made life so much easier.

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moonstruckme · 7 months

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I really love everything you write. Could you write with one of the Marauders or poly!marauders, whichever you think is best, where the reader has OCD (overchecking) where she often needs to check if the door/windows are locked before leaving, even if she doesn't wants to, but her brain always tells her to check it often. Or before bed where she needs to check if she turned off the stove and things like that? (if you don't feel comfortable writing, that's okay and feel free to ignore this request 🧡)

Thanks honey!!

cw: reader displays some symptoms of OCD

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 634 words

Despite the long day you’ve had and the way your eyelids are drooping, it takes Remus forever to get you to your room. You all but collapse onto the duvet, not even protesting when he slips your shoes off for you before coaxing you back up to wash your face and get ready for bed. (“You’ll be so upset if you wake up with your eyelashes sticking together and your outside clothes still on, sweetheart. And who’ll get in trouble? Me, naturally.”) Finally, when you’ve both washed the day from your faces, brushed your teeth, and changed into your sleep clothes, Remus reaches for the light, but hesitates when you sit up.

“Did you see me lock the door?”

Remus sighs, then feels immediately guilty for it. He’s not upset with you; it’s just frustrating, watching what your own fear will do to you when you’re already so exhausted. “Yes, dovey. I saw, you bolted it and everything.”

You’re looking more and more awake by the second, though fatigue still clings to you. You begin to gnaw on your lip.

“Want me to go check again?” he offers, knowing you won’t be able to rest until you’re sure.

“No, thanks.” You purse your lips, vexed with yourself beneath your worry. You slide your legs over the edge of the bed, standing despite the heaviness that seems to encourage you back down. “I’ll do it. I should check the windows too. And you had a candle going in the living room, didn’t you?”

You’ve already checked the windows, and the stove, and the oven. But you know that already; there’s no sense in telling you. Checking and rechecking is how you make yourself feel safe. “I put it out, but I’ll come with you to be sure,” Remus says, standing too. “For an extra set of eyes.” So he can reaffirm that everything’s been done when you ask again.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders as you go into the hall, hoping your quiet is due to tiredness and not any of the guilty, self-deprecating thoughts that always seem to be churning in that head of yours. Remus walks with you through your home, placing a hand on each burner of the stove to prove its coolness, testing the handle on the door to show that it’s locked, and placing the lid on his blown-out candle so there’s no chance of it reigniting and catching on the nearby curtains.

“Thanks for indulging me,” you say softly on your way back to the bedroom, casting a last glance behind you to ensure that you had, in fact, turned off all the lights.

“Don’t mention it, dovey.” Remus drops a light kiss on the crown of your head. He pulls the sheets aside for you, sympathetic to the eagerness with which you relax into the mattress. “Think you’ll be able to sleep now?”

“Mhm.” You curl up under the covers, looking at him with droopy, troubled eyes. “I’m sorry for being so paranoid.”

Remus’s chest aches faintly as he takes your face in hand, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “You’re not paranoid, sweetheart. You’re just trying to keep us safe, and I appreciate it.” Your brows come together disbelievingly, and Remus doubles down, reaching downward to wrap his arm around your waist. “I do! C’mere, honey.” He tugs you toward him, and you help him out by rolling over, your back pressed to his front. Remus makes his chin at home in the juncture of your neck. “It’s not always convenient, but you’re protecting us. I get that, alright? And it’s nice to know our home isn’t going to burn down on your watch.” You’re soft and warm against him, and Remus gives your tummy an affectionate squeeze. “Now we can both rest easy.”

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chelscait · 9 months

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i’m just wondering if i can request and Alexia and lioness reader fic from the World Cup Final? like they’ve been together for a while but haven’t told anyone so it sort of gets revealed when they congratulate/ comfort eachother.

shout it to the world. | Alexia Putellas

As the final whistle blew, it felt like your heart took its final beat, limbs going limp as the one thing you had always wanted slipped through the tips of your fingers.

It hurt, the exhaustion and emotion made you feel tight, compressed as you collapsed to the ground.

Your breathing was heavy, corrupted lungs struggling as you curled up on the floor, head firmly pressed into the ground whilst different noises erupted around the stadium. You had let your teammates down, your family and all the fans and you felt lost.

Sitting up, your lip wobbled and you fell backwards so you weren't leaning on your knees, feet planted on the floor as your torso laid flat.

Your intakes were wobbly as you stared up at the polluted sky, the colours cascading into a mixture in the atmosphere. They weren't the prettiest, pretty much represented the aura that accumulated at that moment.

The Spanish team bounded around you as you kept your gaze upwards, fingers fiddling above your head as your mind started to process the recordings. You couldn't keep the tears at bay as the reality hit, the reality of how close you truly were, how close England was to making history.

The first World Cup since 1966, and you failed. You failed England and its beloved sport.

The sobs hit you hard, racking your body, so you sat up and buried your face in your knees. You felt really alone, even in a stadium that had an attendance of 80,000 as well as how many girls that are currently on the pitch.

You completely blocked out the presence of some of your teammates, not realising they were stood around you in the same state, clapping your back with sympathy.

Feeling an arm wrap around your shoulder, you lean into their comfort, not caring who it was, as you relished their hold.

The small number 4 on her shorts appeared as you opened your eyes and you nestled into her more.. Keira was always their for you, you could count on her.

She rubbed her hand up and down your arm as you silently cried, the tears unseemingly able to stop their streaming down your cheeks, and you looked up slightly.

The corners of your mouth lifted as you spotted your girlfriend with a huge grin on her face, it falling slightly as you noticed her ex-girlfriend's shirt on her. You'll get over it.

It was like she could sense your look as she moved her head to face you, eyes darting away as hers found yours. You needed her to be happy, not be bothered by you.

Tucking your chin in between your knees, you felt Keira move away and another body sit beside you instead. Blue was replaced with red.

"You played so well, Y/N. I'm sorry this had to happen, I really wish it went differently."

"You deserve it, Ale. Don't make excuses for me, it's your moment, don't let me be in the way." You mumbled, head slightly turning towards hers as she laid an arm on your back.

"Amor, you're not in the way." She spoke softly as she tucked her ponytail back to be able to see you. "I'm so proud of you and I love you."

"Ale, cover your mouth. Just in case." You told her, sitting up as you looked around the pitch, spotting atleast 2 cameras as well as a whole herd of paparazzi.

"No. Te quiero, te quiero mucho." She spoke louder, accentuating her mouth's movements for it to be easier to lip read.

"Ale! Seriously.."

Your eyes were wide as she smirked, finding it funny, and you slapped her shoulder before she pulled you in to lay down with her.

"Love.." You sniffled, snuggling inconspicuously into her touch.

In the middle of the pitch.

"¿Que? I feel we're ready to show the world a little bit of our love, no?"

Your smile was broad, the thoughts and feelings of football were now gone. All that flowed through your mind was what life would be like without hiding your relationship after a year.

"What would you do if I kissed you right now?" You turned on your side, leaning your head in your palm as you faced her.

"I would.." You cut her off as you leant down for a quick peck, "like it."

You both giggled and both leant in for one more, oblivious to the other eyes and cameras around you. Too content with one's missed touch.

“I’m so proud of you, mi súper estrella.”

She snorted in reply, eyebrows raised.

“That was a shocking pronunciation.”

#the title is aggravating my OCD #caits little fics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso oneshot #woso oneshots #woso ficlets #woso fics #wlw #woso #barca femeni

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l832 · 1 year

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yellowroseswrites · 2 years

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Writing Requests / Rules

Hi ! I'm Kae, and I write comfort fics ! This is my comfort fic/vent account, my main account is @rosesareyellowtoo !

I write mostly things that include triggering content! Bc I for one always look for fics as a way of coping, so I wanted to be a safe place for any requests that others may be uncomfortable with. (which is totally valid don't go hating people just bc the won't write triggering things. it's literally triggering. ok thx)

Here are my like. rules and things.

Who I write for -

-HP- Ron Weasley Draco Malfoy Cedric Diggory Fred Weasley George Weasley Mattheo Riddle Theodore Nott Lorenzo Berkshire Blaise Zabini

-MARAUDERS- Basically everyone!

-ST- Steve Harrington Eddie Munson Jonathan Byers Robin Buckley [x fem/gn only] Nancy Wheeler

-MARVEL- Bucky Barnes Peter Parker Matt Murdock Loki Laufeyson

-CM- Spencer Reid Derek Morgan Aaron Hotchner

-OBX- JJ Maybank Rafe Cameron

-9-1-1- Evan Buckley

-Hunger Games-* Peeta Mellark Finnick Odair Haymitch Abernathy

I only write x reader fics !!

I write all genders, but I'm more comfy with x fem!

*for hunger games reqs, i will not write about the games themselves/anything inside an arena. I'm fine with trauma from previous games tho, or just general comfort that isn't related to the games!

What I'm willing to write-

. sh

. eating disordered things

. addiction problems

. intrusive thoughts

. su!c!dal thoughts

. ocd!reader

. adhd!reader

. depression and everything that goes with that

. anxiety

. s3x addiction/p0rv addiction

.ov3rs3xualizing issues

.rape/sa and the ptsd from it

. ptsd

.nightmares

. any fluff and hurt/comfort

. also im willing to do angst, im just better at hurt/comfort

What im NOT willing to write-

. Nothing really, If I get a request I'm not comfy with I'll be sure to update !

When you send an ask for a fic, please just make sure to be as specific as possible! any little detail you want specified, just write it. I promise, details in asks will never bother me.

Stay safe, drink water, love you all <3

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punkeropercyjackson · 2 months

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No because it's genuinely flabbergasting how often Rick contradicts himself with calling Percabeth the perfect couple

Poseidon said 'The sea does not like to be restrained' in reference to Percy and Piper said Annabeth 'keeps him in line'.Percy directly said to Annabeth he wishes she'd be nicer to him and she responded 'I am never going to make things easier for you'.Percy straight up insulted Annabeth in his narration for not treating him like Rachel does(the 'unlike some other girls' line)and Annabeth deadass started crying because she hated that Percy's approach to their romance wasn't as direct as hers.They find eachother's interests stupid and lame.Percy is an abuse survivor and has resigned himself to Annabeth's constant hitting he never returns as seen by 'Nah,you'd just beat me up' followed by Annabeth laughing in agreement.Even after they start dating,Annabeth has ZERO trust in Percy's to be faithful to her seeing as she assumed he'd gotten with Hazel literally just for standing next to him in a friendly way and used Rachel as ammo to make him nervous on purpose for her amusement because 'you gotta keep your boyfriend on his toes' and it's topped off by the fact Percy quickly gently letdown Reyna because he remembered her.Annabeth hates her hair and traditional femininity and Percy says it makes her look like a princess and thought she looked better than normal after Circe's makeover

They give eachother ZERO character development,Annabeth intensified Percy's insecurities big time and Percy enabled Annabeth's bad coping mechanisms just as much.Percy hates masculinity and is drawn to femininity but forces himself to act and look like a guy so he can be Annabeth's ideal macho boyfriend and Annabeth quirks herself up into a manic pixie dream girl instead of acting like herself to be Percy's It Girl.Percy hates fate and destiny and he's always told Annabeth is his by people who don't even know him.They don't even have any reasons to be attracted to eachother to begin with seeing as they find the other so annoying it's hard to believe they're not actually found siblings and the fact that all the other campers kept teasing them about liking eachother only adds fuel to it!I'm fucking loosing it,'Percabeth gave me my standards for romances' is one of the most depressing ship related things you can say i'm so serious

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sanguineterrain · 2 months

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thinking about jason todd and a partner who has OCD. he wouldn't understand completely at first but he'd get the anxiety overlap, the intrusive thoughts, the feeling of getting in your own way. thinking about how safe he'd be to perform your rituals around, how he wouldn't judge you for rewashing his drinking glasses or wiping down his counters or washing your hands until they're dry and cracked.

he'd answer your panicked texts about raw chicken and buy you a cooking thermometer the next week. he'd reassure you that no, you're not a bad person, you're not damned, you're not infected. he wouldn't take it personally that you can't kiss him until he showers after a patrol. he wouldn't get frustrated by your paranoia, your need to check and double-check that you've locked your doors. he would sit with you at 2am when you're spiraling, when your brain is your worst enemy.

most of all, jason todd would love you not in spite of your OCD, but alongside it, because it's not invisible but it doesn't define you either. jason would understand this immediately—he knows what it's like to be dismissed for parts of yourself that are hard to control.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #haha this is definitely not me projecting or anything *nervously sweats*#tw ocd #ocd reader

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