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sleekista · 4 months

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that’s enough

barça femeni x teen!reader, alexia putellas x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: this is a mess. the plot is like when ur writing an english essay and you let your subconscious mind write it so it ends up splitting into three topics with no context.

TW: throwing up, coarse language

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Last night, I went out again. It isn’t unusual for me and if I get caught it gets me in trouble with Alexia. I’m not even doing anything bad most of the time, just driving around to take the pressure away. What I don’t factor in this time is the fact that we have an early morning session and a late night session. So if hell was a day, this is it.

First, we have a video session discussing tactics. Which is at 7am, then at 6pm we have a field session. Of course when I wasn’t there when Alexia woke up she immediately called me.

“Where are you? Where’s your car and why aren’t you in the house?” She questions clearly annoyed.

“Relax Alexia, I went out on a little drive, I’ll be there for the video session don’t worry.” She’s about to say more but I hang up. I know I won’t hear the end of this but there can’t be too much harm.

Turns out there can be.

I walk inside the room with my mcdonald’s coffee, I’m not the last person there but Alexia is in the room and shoots daggers at me. I shrug my shoulders, moving to sit next to Ingrid.

“Alexia is really mad, what did you do this time?” She asks, looking at me with a slight smirk.

“I went for a drive to clear my mind. I guess it’s illegal to do that now. I got a coffee though.” She wrinkles her face in disgust.

“Out of all the places to get coffee, you choose the worst one? Honestly kid, please find some place better. Staring at that makes me physically sick.” I roll my eyes.

“I was in a hurry and they call it fast food for a reason. Imagine if I was late? I’m already in trouble.” She nods her head in understanding.

“So, any plans for today or are you going to play Hogwarts Legacy all day.”

“I’m going to watch a movie.” I reply.

“The whole day?” She questions confused.

“Well… I never said I was seeing the movie IN Spain.” She sighs pinching the bridge between her nose.

“That’s not a good idea. Why would you do that?”

“Because I hate subtitles and I don’t want the movie to be in Spanish.” I shrug.

“That’s… a good point. If Alexia finds out you’ve left the country again she’s gonna lose it so have fun and make sure not to tell her you told me.” I nod.

“Will do my friend.” I’ve left the country before, one time to Germany where I accidentally met Georgia Stanway and got drunk with her. And the other time was at the UK in which I got into some nasty fights against some sad Arsenal fans. Like yes I was taunting them but no reason to attack me. I won in the end, obviously.

So if Alexia finds out I’ve left again she will be so mad. I focus my attention to the screen in front of us and listen in on what whatever Jona has to say.

- - - - -

After the session, I quickly make my way out of the room and into my car. I’m almost gone but Alexia is right behind me and she bangs on the window. I groan pulling it down.

“Hi Aleeee.”

“Don’t you ‘Hi Ale.’ me. Where have you been and how long? Do not lie to me.” I sigh.

“I went out on a drive around town, it’s so pretty at night, so excuse me if I want to look at it. Now if you must know. I’m on a tight schedule so, may you please move so I can move?” I ask, she reluctantly agrees and steps back allowing me to drive off to the airport.

(this is rlly fast paced but you can imagine whatever movie you want during the time skip)

- - - - -

It’s currently 5pm, I’ve been out all day the flights were only 2 hours and they were cheap. I don’t know why the others think of this stuff. Maybe I’m just Australian though.

I notice my stomach feels off, but it’s probably because I’m dehydrated and haven’t eaten a proper meal all day. Only a large popcorn and 2 packets of skittles.

I arrive at the grounds just in time and walk in with Sandra. I walk over to my area and get changed into the kit, before walking out onto the field with Lucy.

“You alright mate? You’re pale.” She states.

“I’m good, little tired is all.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me but we walk on.

The session is gruelling, high intensity and does not do anything to help what I’m feeling. Alexia has been pushing me harder than anyone else which is annoying and I low-key want to fall to the ground. That would only result in more laps though.

The 1.5 hour session ends, we have dinner which lasts half an hour than another 45 minutes in the gym. Both of which I am not excited for.

I can’t even think of anything when it happens, I feel bile rise up my throat and I just know that I should’ve eaten a proper meal. I make it into the bathroom in the nick of time, spilling my guts into the bowl. Someone is in here holding my tied back hair but I can’t be bothered to find who.

When I finally stop gagging, I flush the toilet and lean against the wall staring in front of me to find Keira.

“You feel any better or do you want to stay here.” She asks, resting her hand on my cheek. I shrug my shoulders as she sighs.

The door opens again and it’s Lucy.

“Oh, there you guys are. What happened?” Lucy turns to Keira.

“I was walking by the bathrooms and heard someone gagging and here she was throwing up.” She nods her head and I go to stand up.

“NO! No, you are not doing that. What if you throw up again? I’m going to get Alexia. Right now.” Lucy says sternly.

“Nooo, get Ingrid instead? Please Lucy.”

“Fine.” She walks out leaving Keira and I alone again.

“Mind telling me what lead to this moment?” I nod, explaining the staying up all night to not eating any proper food.

“That’ll do it. Can’t believe you just got on a flight to London.”

“It’s not even that long, it’s a great way to spend time. It’s like you saying a 45 minute drive is long. That’s how long it takes for me to get to school when I’m in Australia.” She shakes her head.

“Aussies sense of time is so out of whack I’m telling ya!” The door is opened again as Ingrid and Lucy make their way inside.

Ingrid sighs, “What are we going to do with you huh?” I laugh.

“Come on, let’s get you to the medics and then you can go home. I’ll drive your car and before you say anything we will be telling Alexia.” I nod, knowing there’s no escape.

We get to the medical room and Alexia is already there, talking about her knee with one of the physios. She looks over in question, Ingrid pushes me forward while Keira explains everything to the doctor. Who explains for me to eat a proper meal and drink some actual water. Before going to bed to get actual sleep.

Alexia is fuming, muttering many curse words and dragging me out of there. We get our stuff and give my keys to Mapi who nods at the plan of getting my car back home.

- - - - -

We walk through the door and Alexia guides me to the couch.

“I have had enough of this. We need to set some rules ok? You are 16 in a foreign country, you can’t go around to other countries when you fucking feel like it. I don’t care if you didn’t do anything bad but I can’t have you out of this city without me. Got it? As for the night driving, we’ll set a curfew and I expect you to be back by a certain time and you won’t be able to leave until a certain time. I told your parents I’d watch out for you but you are seriously making it hard for me to live up to that.”

“Sorry Ale.” She shakes her head.

“I’m not doing this with you right now. I’m going to make you a proper meal, you will drink 1 litre of water then you are heading straight to bed. No phone, no xbox, nothing until I deem you can be trusted. Am I clear?” I nod, feeling like I was 12 again.

“You might think this is excessive but I care about you. I want you to be safe, I need you to be safe. So please, make it easier for both of us.” Shes pleading now and it makes me feel bad, tears brim at the edge of my eyes and she sits down next to me.

“Amorcita, don’t cry. Por favor.” She rubs my thigh.

“I’m sorry Ale, I didn’t mean to. The night drives just lessen my anxiety about some things, you know. Like therapy.”

“I know, but you can speak to me about it any time if you feel you’re spiraling. Anyone on the team. Don’t do stupid things to get us to notice. Just talk I’m always here.” I sob into her arms, I can feel all the anger she has fade.

“Thanks, this means so much. Again I’m sorry.” She shakes her head.

“Don’t be, but I would like to know why you travelled to England to watch a movie, don’t you hate England?” This has me laughing.

“I mean… I do but in Spain it’s either gonna be in Spanish or have subtitles and I wanted it in English without.” She laughs softly.

“Of course, now how do you feel about Chicken Burgers for dinner? With potato gems.” I nod my head. She gets up and walks into the Kitchen starting to make the food.

Maybe I can start trying, and maybe I am truly cared about more than I thought. This team 🫶.

A/N: I LOVE SICKFICS I HAD TO. if you see any sickfic requested, i probs requested it lol

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

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flamingpudding · 7 months

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Fictober23 Prompt: 25 - "Do I look like I knew that?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Edit - adjusted the last bit a little after rereading this during my break, so that it makes grammatically more sense...

There was no warning. The moment the Waynes had stepped into the main hall of this Gala they had not been prepared for what had been about to happen. The only sign they had gotten was Damian tensing for a split second before the youngest of them booked it across the hall.

Tim and Bruce instantly attempted damage control, distracting all the high society people that had noticed it, while Dick and Jason followed their youngest. Cass had already escaped the gala to the roof before they had set their first foot into the main hall.

But again, nothing could have prepared them for what was happening.

Damian not only had seen something that caused him to sprint across the room no, their Demon Brat had gone a step further and just tackled the kid of someone else over and was now wrestling with the other boy! Holding one of the daggers they must have missed to the other boy's neck.

Surprisingly, the other kid held himself pretty well against Damian. Jason and Dick spent a good five minutes just staring when they had found their youngest, only starting to move again when Vlad Master demanded answers from his child. The apparent guardian of the kid that was currently attempting to get a choke hold on Damian before getting flipped over the shoulder, the boy flipped mid air, landing on his feet.

Before Damian could lung at the other boy again Dick grabbed him, his arm wounding around Damians chest as he held onto his youngest brother that sent quite an impressive death glare towards the other kid that just returned the glare, not with the same intensity but clearly peeved had having gotten attacked out of nowhere.

"Daniel! Explain this instant! You promised me, one gala without a ruckus!" Master was clearly not amused, hopefully Bruce had some sort of peace offering ready. Not that the man needed it, Dick thought, remembering some of the reports he had seen the man on.

The boy, Daniel, turned his glare towards his guardian. "It's not my fault this time! HE attacked me first!" Jason snorted, clearly having heard out of that statement alone that Masters apparently also had a feral kid that attacked someone at a gala before.

"This is no excuse. I know you are still grieving but you can not attack my business partner's children. Wasn't it enough that you broke Andrews Mayors nose last week?"

"He deserved it, he hit a girl in a perverted way."

"Justin Gracer?"

"Made fun of my late parents' profession."

"Daniel."

"Fruitloop."

Dick watched how Masters pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not happy with his charge. By now Damian seemed to have calmed down too from whatever idea he had gotten into his head. He was still glaring at the other kid but at least it appeared he wasn't going to attack anymore when he hissed at Dick to let go of him. He still kept a hand on his shoulder just in case.

"I am so sorry Mr. Master. It wasn't Daniel that started it. Damian, come on apologies." Dick cut in, causing the other two to pay attention and fully face them. That's when he noticed it. Daniel looked a whole lot like Damian. The older siblings shared a glance before Jason left to get the others, Tim and Bruce were still stuck doing damage control but it should only be a matter of time. What was the best way to bring it up to ask subtitle questions without appearing suspicious?

Dick was just about a question before Daniel apparently beat him to it. "Fruitloop, you did not attempt to clone me did you?"

"Little Badger, why would I do that? I already have guardianship over you."

Dick felt like he was missing something here but he also felt Daniam's shoulder tense below his hand. So that was why he had attacked. Damian thought another clone appeared. He really hoped what Masters and his Charge seid were just some ill timed joke. Otherwise the implications would be very worrisome.

"Mom and Dad didn't keep some other family relations secret did they?" Daniel then asked and Masters looked at them contemplatively. "Well Jack was estranged from the rest of his family while Maddie only had her sister Alicia and as far as I am aware you and Jasmine were their only children."

"Mr. Masters if you don't mind, would it be alright to do a DNA testing? You said Daniel's father was estranged from his family? It would be good to find out now if there is a relation." Dick ignored the glare Damian was sending him now, but this was his best excuse to get the others DNA to test if the other boy was really a clone or not. If he was then the League of Assassins must have done some serious brainwashing, and memory manipulation. This would also be the first clone of Damian that actually had a consciousness of his own.

"Doesn't explain why he attacked me…" he heard the other boy mutter as Master stared at them with narrowed eyes for a while before giving the boy by his side a contemplating look.

"Daniel has lost his family and friends in an incident recently. It would be good if we found any family he could connect with or help with his grief." The man then finally said after a moment before handing Dick a business card with a number to connect them before leading his boy away, leaving the gala for all they knew.

A week later and after a lot of discussion in their Family. The Waynes and Masters meet for the DNA testing. Though the moment Masters and his charge met Bruce both froze, Bruce in his Brucie act blinked innocently at them and asked if anything was wrong.

"Fruitloop…"

"Don't be ridiculous Daniel. I never would have attempted what you appear to be implying."

The boy pointed in at Bruce as he faced his guardian. "Look at him and tell me they don't look alike! He is like a more fit version of Dad! Like he hadn't eaten a single one of mom fudges in years! You have to have an explanation for that!"

"And how would I do that?"

"I don't know! You're the fruitloop one that had cloning equipment in the basement! Who did you buy it from? Some old fruitloop? The one you bought it from, did they try to - i don't know - clone a celebrity for themselves! The papers you had with it clearly stated that it had been used successfully once. It was a second hand bought with super old technology when I demanded you destroy the stuff!"

"Daniel, do I look like I knew that? I never looked in these papers you speak of! I just bought it as a backup plan, that I never needed a little badger! Besides the only one I would have ever attempted to clone with that time frame would have been your mother! I didn't even know your father before college! "

"Why would you buy something without looking into the papers and instruction manuals you get with it?!"

"There was no need for! Why did you even look into that when you had me destroy it anyway?!"

The Waynes looked back and forth between Masters and his charge. The more these two continued to argue the more a sinking feeling started to form in everyone present. It was Tim though that voiced everyone's thoughts as he leaned over to Bruce whispering only one question. "Are we sure there never has been an attempt of someone trying to clone you? It sounds like there had been one, years ago…"

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lurkingshan · 2 months

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Unknown Episode 8

My god, Yuan is so smart and Qian doesn't stand a chance.

Big change this week, as Yuan started calling his brother by his name (insert grumbling about the subtitles obscuring this by always translating "ge" as "Qian"). Both in the scene when Yuan checked on Qian and wished him good night, and again at the river, he called him "Wei Qian." In both of these moments, Yuan is trying to encourage Qian to accept that relationships can change and that it's okay for him to see Yuan as someone other than his little brother. He's also still calling him "ge" when he's interacting with him more in a familial way, and flirting and caring for him while also establishing some new distance by not catering to him in every single interaction. Yuan still loves him, but he's not a kid worshipping an idol anymore. You could practically see Qian's head spinning as he tries to keep up and get a read on how Yuan feels.

I like the way the show used the Lili and San Pang reveal to shake Qian up. First of all, let me just say that the scene where he found out was absolute comedy gold from start to finish, and I lost it entirely when they showed Yuan in the background embodying popcorn.gif. Qian struggles a lot with change, and he's uncomfortable both with the idea of his siblings growing older and with them engaging in romantic relationships, something he himself has never done. And the show didn't mention it explicitly, but I can't imagine it's lost on him that San Pang was so against Yuan's feelings for Qian, but has no apparent qualms about dating Lili (and covering her with hickeys, what are you, 14, San Pang?), despite all of them being part of the same found family unit. There's a hypocrisy there that is so far unnamed, and it must contribute to his discontent with this situation, though I don't think he'd ever say that out loud. Some part of him must think it's unfair that they get to date happily while he's been tormented for years over what to do about Yuan's feelings for him.

And at this point, it's clear these feelings are mutual. Qian's physical awareness of Yuan was cropping up all over this episode; there was tension in every scene they shared. Their years apart seem to have only ratcheted up the yearning between them, and Qian is not as practiced at managing it. The anticipation was all over his face whenever he was with Yuan, and each time Yuan did not prioritize him in the way he expected, he was confused and disappointed. His words at the river felt more like he was trying to convince himself, not Yuan, that they should move on from any thoughts of a romantic relationship. I loved the way Yuan got up and sat down right across from him so he could look him in the eye and say he is more mature now, and he will always be his family no matter what, but wouldn't it be nice to have more together? His quiet confidence in that scene was excellent. I truly believe he is willing to accept whatever Qian wants, but he also knows Qian needs to be pushed to understand his own feelings. And next week he will be getting a big dramatic push.

#unknown the series #taiwanese bl #shan shouts into the void

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specialagentlokitty · 6 months

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10th doctor x deaf!reader - the way you talk

Heya! Absolutely love your work! I've been rewatching doctor who ready for davids comeback😍 it's kinda hard because i'm deaf and sometimes the subtitles dont keep up with the timings😫 i was wondering if i could request a 10th doctor with a deaf reader if possible pleaseeee, thanks 💜 - Anon💜

A/N: Italics will be sign language

The TARDIS enabled the doctor to speak and listen to every language there was.

And for somebody like it, it was amazing, incredibly useful, meaning there wasn’t anything that would be lost in translation.

But, he realised there was limitations to this, and that he wouldn’t make him an expert in some areas, especially sign language.

He knew some, enough to get by if needed.

But when he met you, he realised that wouldn’t be enough if he wanted to communicate with you.

You talked through notepads and text messages, but for him it wasn’t enough, he wanted more. He wanted to communicate with you the way you had to.

So, when he had some free time, which surprisingly was quite a lot considering he always seemed so busy, he began to learn.

And when he next went to pick you up, he wore a grin from ear to ear as he waved at you.

You waved back, following him into the TARDIS, and you set your notepad and pen on the console, putting your bag out of the way before coming back over.

The doctor was flicking through the notepad, and you waved your hand at him, gesturing for him to pass it back.

Quickly writing in it, you flipped it over and held it out to him.

‘Where are we going?’

The doctor beamed.

He took it from you and set it down, making you furrow your brows a little bit, and he began to put some coordinates in.

You took the notepad again, asking him where he was taking you, but he wouldn’t reply, so you knew it was a surprise he had planned for you.

Which wasn’t so bad, except usually his surprises ended in some sort of running or rescue situation.

He was bouncing around, and you smiled as you watched him, leaning against the railing as you just watched him bounce from thing to thing, doing whatever it was he needed to do.

You didn’t quite know how the whole TARDIS worked, and he had offered to explain it, but you didn’t want him to sit there for hour writing it all down.

You were happy not knowing.

As long as you were travelling with him you didn’t care.

He bounding over, and with a grin he held out his hand to you.

“Come with me.” He said.

He knew you could lip read, so often he would just speak to you.

Sometimes he would forget and be stood behind you, trying to have a whole conversation with you and getting confused when you wouldn’t talk back.

You smiled, placing your hand in his, letting him lead you to the doors and outside.

It was bright, multiple sun sun the sky. It was warm, it wasn’t hot, it seemed like the perfect temperature.

The sand was a vibrant shade of gold, and in the distance the heatwaves rippled about, creating almost an illusion if there being water over there.

The doctor looked at you, smiling even more when he saw you smiling, and he reached out, tapping your shoulder.

You turned to him and he took a small breath.

I don’t know if I’m doing this right, I’m still learning.

Your eyes shot open at the sight of him signing, carefully watching what he was doing as he carried on.

But I want to make it easier for you to talk.

He looked at you slightly nervous.

How long have you been learning? When did you start?

You carried on signing questions and he quickly took your hands to stop you.

Laughing slightly, the doctor smiled and let go.

Not so fast, I’m still learning.

You grinned sheepishly.

Sorry. Why did you start?

So I could talk to you.

You furrowed your brows a little bit.

Yes we write or text to each other, but I want to talk to you properly. The way you do, I wanted to make it easier on you.

You smiled and rushed to hug him tightly, and he happily hugged you back.

He had a long way to go, but with some practice and you to help guide him, he would be able to have longer conversations with you in no time

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #doctor who x y/n #doctor who imagine #tenth doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #tenth doctor x y/n #tenth doctor imagine

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d10nyx · 4 months

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sneaking out of heaven

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, religious guilt, sexually repressed reader, allusions to abusive parents

a/n: i'm soooo nervous about this one lmao... will be smut eventually, but part of is kinda just... setting things up, yay!! not really sure how to tag this part either, so sorry if i missed anything :// title from the waterparks song of the same name <3

word count: 1.3k words

Growing up in the church offered you the only sliver of normalcy in your childhood. Your father, the pastor, was a strict man. He'd always made his expectations of you clear, and you were not one to go against his teachings. After all, his words were the extension of the words of God, as he had made abundantly clear.

You'd never been to a public school, and living in such a small town meant you were not subjected to things that most young girls were. Your father favoured it. This way, he could ensure his daughter stayed free of temptation. That she would be safe under his watchful eye, and never stray from the teachings of God.

Still, in the Church, you felt at home. In God's eyes, all men were created equal. You felt like you had some semblance of free will, less trapped under your father's thumb. As long as you devoted your life to God, you would be safe. He would provide for you, and you'd be able to leave this town.

This did not mean you did not miss the things that most teenagers got to experience. Fiddling around with the computer your dad allowed you for home-schooling purposes and finding incognito mode was something that instantly fed into your curiosity. Your dad couldn't monitor what you were doing, and it made you feel more comfortable to explore.

You never ventured too far, of course. It was as though you felt God Himself would strike you down if you looked at something you shouldn't. No, all you did was watch teen dramas with your volume muted late at night when you knew your father was asleep. You read the subtitles as you watched, fascinated by the idea of partying and going out. Having fun. Being free.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to speak with someone your own age. This town was filled with old folks, and those who had kids all seemed to decide to have them a good ten or so years before or after you were born, so you were left being the only teenager there.

As you got older, the need to spread your wings and leave the nest only grew. Your father got stricter, roped you into more church duties. Anything to keep your curious mind wandering too much.

That was until the Kennedys moved into town.

Along with them came a boy, only a few years older than you. You could feel the tension in your father's body as you stood next to him while greeting them after they attended their first Sunday Mass there.

Their son, Leon, stood behind them looking incredibly uninterested. It was as if your father could sense what the boy would do to your mind, how he'd plague your thoughts late and night when you were all alone. You shook his hand that day, and that contact alone was enough to cause your downfall.

As you lay in bed that night, you felt the devil claw his way into the corner of your mind. He made his home there, filling you with thoughts that left you weak to temptation. As wetness pooled in the gusset of your panties remembering how Leon's hand felt in yours, you sobbed.

You prayed for God's forgiveness when the thoughts subsided. Apologised profusely for even thinking about touching yourself. The next morning, your shower took twice as long. You pretended it was the heat of the summer, but you knew it was your attempt at washing the dirty thoughts from your mind.

Every Sunday, Leon was begrudgingly dragged to church by his parents. And every Sunday, you fall further and further into sin. Until one day, you can't find Leon as you gaze into the pews.

It bothers you more than it should. You should be relieved. If he had convinced his parents to allow him to avoid church, you'd be rid of your temptation. God had heard your prayers, and he had offered you a solution.

You were not so lucky.

As you leave the church, Leon is propped outside against one of the walls. He's smoking, his lips the picture of sin as they wrap around the cigarette while he takes a drag.

His gaze flicks to you, and he tosses it to the floor, stopping it out with the toe of his boot. He grabs your arm, dragging you to the side of your church despite your protests.

“I've seen you watching me.” He says bluntly, but your brain can only focus on the sound of his voice and the way his hand feels as it lingers on your arm. You blink a few times, taking longer than usual to register his words.

“I-I haven't…”

“You have been, though.” He says harshly, brows furrowing like he's ready for a fight. “Think you're better than me? I can feel you judging me, y'know. I didn't want to come to this shitty town. I know I'm not like you.”

Your expression twists into one of confusion. Judging him? If anything, you were the one that deserved to be judged. You shake your head quickly, your heart beating so hard it felt like it would come out of your chest.

“I wasn't… I was just… just curious, that's all.”

He narrows his eyes like he's trying to see if you're lying. After a moment of studying you, he seems pleased enough with your answer and releases your arm.

“Cool. Your dad just really laid it on to my parents. They won't get off my back. Thought he sent you to keep an eye on me or something.” He says with a shrug, his gaze trailing over you.

“I'm not my father.” The words come out more sharp than you intended, and you're instantly scolding yourself mentally for speaking in that way. You take in a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting his gaze once more.

“I was wondering if we could be friends?” You ask softly, your voice shaking with slight nerves. Your father would probably crucify you if he knew you were alone with a boy, and here you were trying to bargain more time with him.

“It's just… well, I've never been able to hang around someone my age before, and-”

“Never?” He interrupts, brows furrowing as he looks at you. A small frown tugs at his lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss it away.

You shake your head softly, embarrassment burning in your chest.

“Shit. Does your old man keep you locked up in the church basement or something?” He asks with a laugh that only grows louder when he sees how affronted you are by him cursing.

He's joking, but it's not so far from the truth. You've been tethered to this town since the day you were born, kept on a leash so tight you could feel your airwaves being restricted more and more with every tug made by your father.

“It's just… I've never left this town.” You say quietly, and just like that, Leon's expression softens.

“You don't seem so happy about that.” He replies. The look on your face confirms his suspicions, but you don't say anything in response.

“Hey, well… I'll tell you everything you want to know.” He says with a smile that makes you weak in the knees.

If God created everyone in His image, he must have put a little extra of Himself in Leon Kennedy. You're not entirely convinced you're not in the presence of an angel. Or perhaps a demon sent by the devil to lure you into a life of sin.

You brush the thoughts away quickly. Leon was a human, plain and simple. It didn't matter what he looked like. All men were created equal, you remind yourself. There was nothing wrong with talking to him.

“So we're friends?” You ask hopefully, extending a hand in hopes of making contact with his calloused palms once more.

“Yeah. Friends.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy

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shayyprasad · 2 months

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would you love me if i were a worm? | peter parker

summary: you ask peter a very, very serious question.

warnings: nothing! (reader goes by rose sometimes... like a pet-name?)

pairing: frat!peter x bimbo reader

word count: 0.7k+ words

a/n: i honestly had so much fun writing intellectual, i wanted to add more to this little bimbo!verse! this trend feels like such a cute, bimbo-y thing, so i put it on here! (in no way is use of "bimbo" meant to be a patriarchal stereotype. please do not take it offensively, this is a work of fiction.)

M.LIST | RULES/REQUESTING | ABOUT ME

you're scrolling through your instagram reels, trying to pass your time. you're snuggled against peter - he's nice and warm - and lazily draped against him.

his arm has lost feeling at this point, but he couldn't care less, he's totally happy with it. being close to and loved by you is the best thing he could ever ask for. peter's lost a lot in his life, but you'll never be one of them.

he has his head laying on top of yours, tapping away at his laptop. peter's been busy with spider-man, to the point where the essay that is due tomorrow completely slipped his mind. he's trying to multitask since he hasn't spent that much time with you lately.

he's struggling, typing with one hand, but it's worth it.

you swipe to the next video using your freshly painted nails (they're a nice shade of pink, topped with a glitter coat). what's playing is a girl talking to her boyfriend; you can't hear the audio, but there a subtitles. the girl poises a very important question:

what would he do if she were a worm? would he love her still?

which leads you to think, what would peter do if you were a worm?

would he still love you?

or would he give you away? throw you into the dirt? would he step on you?

you gasp at the thought, and peter turns to look at you. "you good?" he doesn't look nor sound especially concerned, but the look in his eyes gives it away.

"petey?" you ask, eyes wide and wet.

"yeah, rose?"

"would you still love me if i were a worm?"

he's about to burst into laughter, he really is, but with one more look at you, he realizes that's not a great idea. the way you're looking up at him, expectant and weary, almost like you're afraid of his answer has him rubbing your shoulder, a chuckle slipping out.

if it's even possible, your eyes widen more. "you wouldn't?" eyes glossed over, lips pouted, he wishes he could take that stupid little chuckle back. he doesn't like the way you're tearing up, even if it's for a reason like this.

peter doesn't get fazed by much, he's spider-man, but watching you cry is number one on his list.

peter thinks it a silly question; he'd love you if you were a damn rock.

you're so gorgeous like this (not the crying), he can't help but think. with your hair in soft curls, satin hugging your figure. the curve of your lashes, how you blink up at him.

god, he's so happy he's with you.

"of course i would," peter says quickly, realizing he's been quiet a moment too long.

"really?"

"yeah," by the look on your face, it's not enough. "uh, i'd love you still."

"you'd carry me around with you?"

"sure. i'd figure out how to give you a cute pink bow, we could tie it around your waist- er... around you. and buy you a little dollhouse, you could use the rooms."

peter's committed now, and your eyes aren't welling with tears anymore.

"can it be a, like, pink dollhouse?" you ask, softly, voice moist from tears.

"with glitter," he adds, "and if we can't find a nice enough one for you, that's absolutely perfect... i'll make you one myself."

"oh my god, really?"

"anything for my favorite lady. in fact, i'd get you the finest food too. top notch- top notch whatever-it-is-that-worms-eat food."

peter's so glad none of his frat brothers are seeing this, he would've died of mortification. but here, in this room, where it's just the two of you - peter doesn't have a care in the world.

"and, y'know what? i think i'd even find you a pink little louis-v bag. that's right, my rose." he's spewing facts right now, he'd do all this. well, maybe not the bag. the two dollars in his bank account might not work out great with that.

but you don't have to know that part, it's fine.

"i'd read your, uh- fashion magazines and stuff to you. show you the pictures and everything," he loves the smile you have on right now.

"you'd be the most beautiful worm there is," he finishes.

"awww. i'd love you if i was a worm too," you say, nuzzling your nose against his.

"i've got no doubt, rose."

it's not all a lie though, hypothetical or not. he's made a promise to never leave your side, worm or not.

taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x you #spiderman #fluff #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #angst #peter parker x reader #frat!peter x bimbo!reader #frat!peter x reader #frat!peter #peter x bimbo!reader #bimbo!reader

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

Text

Speaking in Tongues (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer translates a movie for you. Things get a little tense.

Request: reader getting hot and bothered when her and spencer are watching a movie with him translating whispering in her ear? A/N: Filth. Pure filth. Thank you to @foxy-eva for translating for me (and always encouraging me to write). Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Handjob, teasing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-rough sex Word Count: 1k

MASTERLIST

When Spencer asked you to join him for casual German cinema, you had expected something innocent. Even after he’d explained that it was an attempt to become more “conversational” in German, you’d never considered how intimate it would become.

When the movie first begins, Spencer keeps a respectful distance. His couch has enough room for you two to sit without touching, but you make sure that you do; just an innocent brushing of thighs. He seems to savor the warmth, though, because Spencer is quick to inch closer.

At first, you are happy. You also lean into him, linking arms with him and holding onto his hand trapped in the middle.

You think you’ve made a smart decision.

Then the dialogue starts.

Spencer’s breath is hot against your ear. He speaks so quietly that you can barely hear him. Although, you wouldn’t have been able to focus even if he’d spoken at a regular volume. Your heart is beating too loudly to hear.

He’s still speaking English, right?

There is a lull between the characters. You try to steady your breathing.

Spencer remains focused on the screen.

The next time he speaks, you squeeze his hand tightly. He jumps but continues to whisper what might as well be sweet nothings into your ears.

The German subtitles blur on the screen. You let go of his hand and turn your palm to his thigh, instead. He jumps but continues to speak, albeit with a rougher, shakier whisper.

You begin to wonder where his limits lie.

The next time that a character speaks, you slide your hand several inches up his thigh. Spencer’s voice catches in his throat. He pants into your ear, yet still tries to translate.

It takes him longer, but he manages.

So, you continue. Between the lines, you inch your way closer to the steadily growing bulge straining against his pants.

Spencer whimpers when you creep your fingers around his length.

He misses a line.

“Keep going,” you whisper as you turn to him.

His pupils are blown and his face has turned the prettiest shade of peach.

“You first,” he challenges.

The still-existent wit earns him your obedience. You can see the simultaneous regret and relief as he realizes that things will only get… harder, as you continue.

Despite the difficulty, he continues to dutifully translate for you. Of course, he could be speaking gibberish and you would allow it. You would allow just about anything to continue your exploration.

Spencer’s voice cracks when you tug at the waistband of his sweats. He outright whines when you pull his aching erection free from their confines.

Then, he continues to translate. For approximately five seconds.

“Fuck,” he groans when your hand wraps around his dick.

You’re pretty sure that isn’t in the movie.

“Focus,” you whisper into his ear.

Then, to be cruel, you nip at his earlobe. You revel in the way it makes him shiver.

“I can’t,” he confesses.

“Try,” you coo, “do it for me.”

He tries. Even when your fingers start to move, he stutters out rough, broken English. You want to pay attention to the movie to better support his desire to learn, but the sweetness of his skin is more alluring than the screen.

You litter him with sloppy kisses while your fingers apply waves of pressure around his dick. By the time you begin lazy strokes, Spencer is already about to sob from the repressed passion.

He hasn’t even touched you, but he feels himself teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"Ich will dich ficken,” he absentmindedly grumbles.

“In English, Spencer,” you tease, failing to realize that he was long past with the teasing.

“I said I want to fuck you.”

Before you can even process what he’s said, he pulls you forward onto his lap. You scramble to compose yourself, but Spencer continues regardless.

His hands are ruthless in their pursuit, pushing under your skirt and forcing your underwear to the side without hesitation. His fingers are just as quick to slip inside you. They also find no hesitation. He groans with relief to find you already dripping with anticipation.

He’s waited long enough. His hand drops to his dick while the other helps position your hips. With one smooth movement, you drop onto his lap as your body accepts all of him.

Spencer wants to take his time, but he knows he won’t be able to last. His thrusts are staggered and rough. You grab hold of his shoulders to try to keep steady, but you find yourself slipping when he starts to move.

You grab his hair, instead. The force with which you do so is matched by the intensity of his hands digging into your hips. He holds you down, pushing himself even deeper into you until there is nowhere left to go.

He still wants more. He cranes his neck forward despite your death grip on his hair. He returns your torture with bruising kisses on your neck.

You cry out. You cling to him, holding his face against your chest and depriving him of everything but you.

He doesn’t protest. He kisses you more. He fucks you as hard as he can until he is gasping for air against your breast.

Then, the world goes quiet as everything left of his resolve shatters. Spencer buries his teeth in the sensitive skin beside your collarbone. His hands keep holding you down, even when your body starts to squirm. He forces himself all the way to the hilt as he comes.

The feeling of his release is like a balm for the pain. It is so warm, and he is so vulnerable, that you are almost happy that his hold is so brutal.

But when he lets go, panting and whimpering like he had been before, you realize that he is beautiful in every iteration.

Spencer is only gentle then. He holds you like something fragile, and you treat him just the same. You focus on the feeling of his hot, steady breath against damp and bruised skin.

“What wonderful sorrow it is to love,” Spencer whispers through the exhaustion.

Your face crinkles with confusion.

“What?” you ask.

“The movie,” he mumbles, "That's the line."

Once you realize, you laugh. He joins you. You both laugh at just how far from the plan you’d strayed.

In the background, the movie entertains itself.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my Masterlist here!

Reid Taglist (Everything Reid): @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife

Complete Taglist (All Works): @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme

Thanks for reading!

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut

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stevesbipanic · 3 months

Text

@steddielovemonth Day 28: Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him. @starryeyedjanai

"Steve!" Robin clicked her fingers in front of Steve's face, Steve turned towards her, "Have you heard a thing I said?"

"Sure, I was listening."

"No you weren't you weren't looking at me, I wasn't born yesterday, Evie."

Steve smiled slyly, "Fine what were you saying about your date with Nancy," he replied pointedly looking at her lips this time.

Robin cracked a giddy grin, "The rollerskating was a great idea she held my hand all night cause you know I'm a klutz!"

Steve laughed turning to continue stacking the tapes. Robin poked her head round him at the sound of the front bell.

"Eddie!" She said tapping Steve and pointing. Steve grinned at the metalhead wiggling his fingers in a wave.

"Stevie! How's my favourite future cyborg, you ready to go?" Steve liked watching Eddie talk, the way his lips moved.

"Thanks for driving him, Ed, it was hard enough convincing him to go to the first appointment, wanna make sure he actually gets them."

"Course, Bucks, happy to babysit our favourite babysitter."

Steve punched out his card and gathered his things from the back. The drive to the doctor's office was quick, the thrum of Eddie's mixtapes vibrating the van. Steve always liked hanging out with Eddie, he liked loud.

He really wanted to hold Eddie's hand once they were sat in the bright white office. The cold walls were a little too similar to the bunker, but he'd promised Robin.

"It'll be a little weird when we first turn them on but you should adjust within a week." The doctor explained before fiddling with the device. A few seconds later the tune of the radio flooded his ears, Steve perked up a smile gracing his face. He looked over at Eddie, "I can hear the radio!" Eddie grinned widely in return.

Later, back at the trailer Steve was enjoying hearing the movie playing, happy to not have to rely on the limited subtitled movies Hawkins had to offer. He could hear Eddie finishing dinner in the background, it warmed his heart feeling somewhat normal again.

"Hear you go, sweetheart," Eddie said passing Steve a bowl of spaghetti, plopping down beside him, it was nice, hearing Eddie's voice more clearly now.

He paused the movie as Eddie started monologuing about something that had happened at the garage that morning. Steve wasn't really paying attention, too busy watching Eddie's lips. He wanted to tell Eddie how he felt but he didn't want to lose this.

"Stevie?"

"Hmm?" He replied not looking away from Eddie's mouth.

"Your hearing aids stop working? You've been reading my lips."

Steve blushed, "Um no, I heard you just fine."

Eddie paused before smirking, "See something you like then, sweetheart?"

Steve smiled in return, "Maybe, maybe I just need you to come closer to hear better."

Eddie leaned forward, glancing down at Steve's lips, "Better?"

"Hmm, little closer, don't want to miss anything you say, very important."

Eddie was barely a breath away, all Steve had to do was close the gap, "Stevie." Eddie said Steve's name like a promise and Steve couldn't help moving forward, brushing his lips against Eddie's.

He's glad he listened to Robin and got the hearing aides, he wanted to memorise the sound of Eddie's gasps and moans forever.

#deaf steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #second last one :((#ficlet #steddielovemonth

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andkisses · 9 months

Text

♡ he takes care of you (1) | enha ♡

ot7!enha headcanon: they take care of you when you have a headache

♡ ot7 x gn!reader | wc. 1.2k ♡ genres/tropes: fluff! casual hurt/comfort ♡ mentions of/warnings: pain, pain meds, headaches ♡ a/n: little something for every member <3 jungwon’s first and the rest below the cut ^^ dedicated all my migraine homies </3 also lowkey not proofread it could be better lol ♡ masterlist ♡

✧･ﾟ: * jungwon

“are you feeling better?” he asks. jungwon pouts as he watches you shake your head, still squinting. you snuggle back up into the blanket, and further into jungwon’s side. the tv plays so softly, the sound might as well be off. jungwon has watched four episodes of whatever drama netflix recommended, understanding everything through facial expressions and subtitles. every half hour or so, he would check your tempurature, just to make sure it wasn’t something else. but you stayed cool–or warm?--and jungwon knew it was just one of those days. “don’t worry,” he whispers against the crown of your head, planting a gentle kiss as episode five opens to a melodramatic scene. “i’ll stay right here for as long as you need.”

✧･ﾟ: * heeseung

he comes home to find you on the couch, under a blanket, in total silence. the lights are off and the tv, which is normally playing reruns of your favorite dramas, is silent. oh no, he thinks, a sad smile on his face as he gently pulls back the blanket. you rest, asleep, with a line between furrowed brows, headache plaguing you even know. heeseung takes one finger, lightly running it down your forehead to the tip of your nose over and over in slow, soothing strokes until that angry line fades away. heeseung can tell you still hurt, even in your sleep. it leaves a certain pang in his heart. he wishes he could take your pain from you, but since he can't, he settles for what he thinks is next best. heeseung places a warm, tender kiss between your brows. then, he pulls the blanket back up and sits on the other end of the couch, electing to read a book. he stays close, as close as he can, so he can always be there for you.

✧･ﾟ: * jay

when you came home, stumbling through the front door, leaving your stuff in a messy heap to disappear into the room you shared, jay knew what was occurring. he takes the time to stop what he's doing and sort your things–shoes on the rack, bags on the hook, keys in the bowl on the table by the front door. next, he grabs a small glass of cold water and some pain medicine. jay slips into the bedroom, which you've left dark and unlit. he can barely make out your figure curled up on top of the covers. he places his things on the side table and sits beside you on the bed. he rubs his hand up and down your back, and frowns when you whimper. "take these," he whispers, helping you sit up. after you've taken your medicine, jay wraps you in his arms, pulling you both down. he selfishly savors how you feel, snuggling into the crook of his neck. how lucky he is to be able to hold you and help you whenever he can, he thinks, kissing your temple. whatever he can do for you, jay will.

✧･ﾟ: * jake

he knows something is up from the way you squint when you laugh too hard, or take a moment to stare at the food on your plate you merely pushed around. at one point, you’re mid conversation, stumbling you’re way through a story, when jake reaches over and places his hand on top of yours. you don’t need to say anything–his look tells you he cares, and jake watches as you slump your shoulders and sink into your chair. “i thought i could just… think it away.” jake makes sure to laugh softly–he knows noises make it worse. you both stand and he holds you close, hand cradling the back of your head with fingers massaging your scalp. he walks you back to your room, where he dims the lights and turns on the fan. he makes sure the blinds and the curtains are shut before tucking you in safe and secure. “i’m sorry about dinner,” you mumble, already relaxing. “it’s okay,” jake assures, smoothing your hair back out of your face. “let me take care of you.”

✧･ﾟ: * sunghoon

he feels awkward, not knowing whether to hold you or give you space, talk or stay silent. he feels like glass, and sunghoon knows you’re really the one in trouble, but he cares so much and overthinks everything he isn’t sure what to do. he’s so in his head, that when you call out to him from your spot on the couch, encapsulated in the cool darkness, that he jumps. “what’s wrong?” you ask, your voice low and tired. you’ve taken your medicine (he knows, he helped you), but sunghoon can tell you’re still in pain. he kneels beside you on the couch, taking one of your hands in both of his, holding them beneath his chin. “i love you so much, it hurts that i don’t know what to do.” painful honesty, but sunghoon feels relief when you smile, telling him to stay. he crawls onto the couch with you, a tight squeeze, but he feels better–and he’s certain you do too–with you firmly and safely in his arms.

✧･ﾟ: * sunwoo

it’s quiet in the car, aside from the air conditioning, sunoo parked it minutes ago, but you’re finally relaxed in your seat, eyes shut, head tucked onto your shoulder. he knows he needs to move you–don’t need to suffer a neck ache too. but after everything you went through? it warrants a small reprieve. “you don’t have to pretend,” he says, leaning over to move a strand of hair from your face. he kisses your forehead and whispers against your skin. “not with me, not ever.” you over a soft, albeit pained smile, looking up at sunoo through your lashes. his heart swells–you tried your hardest to make it through the evening and everything he had planned, but sunoo’s known you long enough–loved you long enough–to see through any facade you put up, no matter how shiny and pristine. sunoo smiles, kissing your cheek this time. he can feel you smile wider. “let’s get you safe inside, hm? i get to take care of you now.”

✧･ﾟ: * niki

at first, he’s nervous when you go silent on your side of the couch. it isn’t that far, but you feel miles from niki in your silence. normally, you’re both going back and forth in your banter, no matter the subject on tv. but about half an hour ago, you started getting quieter and quieter, to the point niki wondered if it was something he said, a line he crossed without even knowing it was there. but then, as he finally gets enough courage to look your way, he sees you with your eyes shut and snuggled into the back of the couch. sometimes, i get these headaches. and now he;s rushing to do everything he can remember–lights off, cold water, medicine, a blanket, and—you wrap your fingers around his wrist, and he freezes in his panic. “thank you,” you say with a smile, and niki is certain you can feel his racing heartbeat through his wrist. “for taking care of me.” suddenly, the panic has melted away, and a new nervousness washes over niki–a unique worry of how much he loves you, and how it’s so much more than he ever anticipated.

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #k-labels #enhypen fluff #enhypen scanarioes #enhypen imagines #jungwon fluff #heeseung fluff #jay fluff #jake fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunoo fluff #niki fluff #headcanons #enhypen #all

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cuubism · 10 months

Text

a selection of The Library's customers

One day Hob will get used to The Library's many strange happenings. Maybe. Or probably not.

Today, it's the fact that there's a customer.

Sort of.

The small child who's essentially appeared in Dream's study frowns up at him, hands on her hips. She looks to be about nine. She's wearing a school uniform. Where are her parents?

"This," she says to Dream, horribly affronted, "is not the school library."

"I imagine it did not have what you needed," Dream says. Utterly unbothered by a random child wandering into his shop, seemingly out of nowhere. Hob watches with astonishment from where he's sitting at Dream's desk with a cup of coffee, evidently not needed for this interaction. "What were you looking for?"

"Unicorns," she declares.

It seems odd to Hob that a primary school library wouldn't have any fantasy books with unicorns in them, but what does he know. Dream nods with utter seriousness. "Please wait a moment," he says, and disappears into the bowels of the shop.

"How'd you get in here?" Hob asks as the girl sits down primly in a chair.

"I used the door, silly," she says. Not the front door, surely. Hob definitely hadn't seen her come up the stairs into the study.

Then her eyes light up. "Can I have a scone?"

Hob had brought over a container of them from the cafe, and Dream's been picking at them all morning. Hob passes the kid the container. What the hell else is he supposed to do?

Fortunately, Dream returns before Hob has to figure out what his adult responsibility is as regards an unaccompanied child that probably should be in school right now. Dream hands the girl a stack of at least ten books of varying sizes, presumably about unicorns. The girl looks through them, scrunches her nose up, and asks, "D'you have anything more scientific?"

Dream considers. Then hands her a large, flat book that he definitely hadn't been carrying a moment ago. The girl sets it on the ground, kneeling before it, flipping through the pages. It seems to be made up of scientific diagrams and large, full-color images. Hob sees viscera, organs, bones-- then the girl closes the book again. The cover says, Unicorn Anatomy: Piece by Piece.

The little girl smiles up at him, sharp and pixie-like. "Thank you, Mister Dream," she says, incredibly polite for a child currently grinning madly over unicorn dissections.

Dream nods solemnly. "I hope it will serve you well in your endeavors."

She trots off back into the stacks, to whatever door (?) she came from, and Hob turns to Dream. "Do you often get random children here?"

"The Library finds its customers," Dream says placidly. "She will find her way back to her classroom, worry not."

"Figured that, somehow."

Dream sets the other unicorn books aside and takes up a scone in their place, nibbling on it as he perches on the edge of his desk, looking down at Hob. He seems amused by Hob's confusion. "Why do you have a front door if people don't use it?" Hob asks.

"You use it," Dream points out. Which... is unexpectedly touching. Unexpectedly special.

"Fair enough," he agrees, voice tight.

Dream's next customer comes bursting in through a side door as Hob is helping Dream stack some new books. He runs in so fast he has to catch himself against the desk, his business suit tattered and smoking, his hair... literally on fire. He rapidly pats it out.

"Please," he begs, as Dream just observes him calmly from where he's sitting cross-legged on the floor. "I need--"

"1983 Alternate History," Dream fills in. "Yes, I'm sure you do. One moment, please."

As he disappears into the stacks, the customer leans against the desk, panting for breath. Hob doesn't think offering a scone is going to help in this case. He's not sure what else would help, either.

Fortunately, Dream returns quickly, handing the shaking man an equally tattered grey book that is indeed titled, in a concerning handwritten scrawl, User's Guide to 1983 - Alternate Version. And, subtitled: FOR EMERGENCY USE ONLY.

"Thanks," breathes the man, clutching the book to him. And with no more explanation than that, he runs back through the door he came from. Hob thinks he catches a glimpse of something very large and very on fire through the doorway, but the door swings closed too fast to tell for sure.

"They would do well to pass that around rather than returning it," Dream says, before sitting back down and returning to his book sorting.

Hob is naturally curious, but he thinks about all the fire and this time decides he doesn't want to know.

"...Hi?"

For once, Hob has successfully convinced Dream to stop working for a moment. Dream is, in fact, currently sitting on his lap, resting his head on Hob's shoulder in a half-doze as Hob regales him with a university story that's certainly crazy enough to fit in with any of the books in The Library. But Library customers don't follow a nine - to - five schedule, Hob's learned this well enough by now.

Dream does not seem embarrassed to have been caught in this position. He just stands fluidly, stretching his arms over his head. "Yes?"

The young person standing hesitantly in the middle of the room -- might be eighteen? twenty? once he crossed thirty Hob lost the ability to tell young adults' ages with any accuracy, they all seem like kids -- twists their hands together and says, "Could you help me find a book?"

Dream nods and waits for them to tell him which one.

The kid glances back and forth between the two of them nervously, like they think one or both of them might judge their selection. Hob tries to look non-threatening, even though it's hard to look more non-threatening when he's already half-sunk into the couch, wearing sweatpants, and was just caught cuddling his boyfriend in a semi-public space. He's also certain that whatever book this kid might be after, The Library definitely has something more concerning and more questionable.

Like Alternate 1983 History, for example.

Dream probably already knows what they're looking for, too, he always does.

Dream just tilts his head in beckoning and walks off into the stacks, his customer following behind, still wringing their hands.

Hob's fully expecting only Dream to come back, for his customer to disappear through another exit -- none of which Hob can ever find later. But they both come back through around ten minutes later, Dream carrying a book with a yellow cover. The study is close and cozy enough that Hob can make out the title -- Gender Queer -- as Dream passes it over, and oh, yeah, he gets it now. Granted, Hob himself has always been more of the type to punch people out whenever they give him any shit, but he understands the impulse, the need, sometimes, to hide.

The teen clutches yellow-covered book close to their chest. "You can take it home," Dream says when they make no move to leave.

They look down at the cover and then back up at Dream. "...I'm not sure I can," they say at length. "It's too, um. Obvious."

Dream just raises an eyebrow. "Is it?"

Hob swears he didn't look away, but as he follows the teen customer's gaze back down, the book has definitely changed. The cover is blue now, and it seems to be about maths, though it's hard to make out from far away. The kid flips through the pages, and they must be different from before for they look up at Dream in disbelief.

Dream, the fucker, just winks. Presses the book closed again, upon which the cover returns to yellow.

"Algebra is scintillating," he drawls, turning away and snatching up the container of scones from a side table -- a not-insignificant part of Hob's job, at this point, is just keeping Dream in scones -- "and suitable for any young person. Take a scone with you, too." He holds out the container. "Hob's are the best."

And with a tiny smile, the kid takes one.

#btw of ALL the books so far mentioned in this au Gender Queer is the ONLY one that's actually a real book XD #all the others are made up #conservatives in the US keep scapegoating Gender Queer and trying to get it banned #love hob doing literally fuck all in this. like does he ever work? who knows #all he does is snog dream a lot. good life tbh #bookstore cryptid dream #dreamling #my writing #dreamling fic #a warm up to hopefully get my brain churning enough today to finish in waking dreams

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theehoneeybee · 4 months

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Late Night Sugar Fix

pairing: Edward Naston/gn!reader word count: 1.3k warnings: swearing, brief mentions of murder, implied stalking, usual Gotham things

synopsis: the night shift at the diner was always quiet, few people willing to venture out into Gotham at night, except for one regular who came in on an almost nightly basis.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

a/n: i'm back in my paul dano era. I used to write for him back on an old blog of mine and it's nice to do it again :)

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Another slow night. The drops of rain trailing down the window carried the colours of the glowing city lights with them. The small, old TV perched in the corner re-aired news segments from earlier in the week. The sounds barely reached your ears and the subtitles lagged behind the speech.

The diner had become quieter over the past couple of weeks. With two vigilantes using the city as an oversized playground, and crime at an all time high, people weren't too keen to leave the house. Especially at night.

There was a few regulars who still came in, fellow night shift workers coming in for a much needed cup of coffee after a long day. The familiar chiming of the bell pulled your head away from the TV, turning around in your chair to greet the stranger.

His back was turned to you, his green jacket decorated with dark spots from raindrops. He set his umbrella gently down by the door and shuffled over the the bench, taking a seat on the cracked black leather stools.

"Evening," you greeted him. "What can I get started for you?"

The man barely makes eye contact with you. "A cup of coffee please, and, um, do you have any pumpkin pie?"

The clear frames of his glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, little droplets of water clinging onto the lenses. His soft brown hair stuck to his forehead. The umbrella must not have done its job. You gave him a nod and went out the back to prepare his order.

Once you came back, the man had cleaned off his glasses and his attention was now focused on the TV screen. You placed down the food, matching his gaze to look up at the screen.

It was a repeat of a news story from earlier in the day. 'The Riddler terrorises Gotham' the subtitles read, the face of the news reporter was replaced with one of the Riddler's infamous livestreams. The reported called him all sorts of names, 'murderer', 'villain', 'terrorist'. You couldn't help the small scoff that left your lips. This caught the strangers attention, half turning his head to look at you through the corner of his eye.

"Look, I don't agree with the killing," you quickly tried to justify yourself, hoping you hadn't offended him. "But at least he's doing something. I know too many people who have suffered because the cops don't do shit."

An emotion you couldn't quite place flashed on his eyes, leaving just as quickly as it appeared. He nodded, looking back at the TV. "Someone had to do something."

You spend the rest of the evening aimlessly scribbling in your notepad, occasionally turning to the TV for some lacklustre entertainment. The man left, giving you a small nod on his way out. As you cleaned up the plates, wiping down the counter, you glanced at the door.

He left his umbrella.

You leant against the counter, idly flicking between the pages of a newspaper that a customer had left behind.

"I speak without a mouth and hear without ears," you read the riddle printed on the thin pages aloud, "I have no body, but come alive with the wind. What am I?"

"An echo." The answer made you jump, no longer alone in the diner. "The riddle," the man gestures to the newspaper in your hands, "It's an echo."

The same man from yesterday with the clear frames and mousey brown hair was back. You never even heard the door bell ring. Same routine as last night, he sits down and orders a slice of pumpkin pie and coffee. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he ate, filling in the puzzles from a newspaper of his own.

Strange, you settled on, was the best way to describe him. He kept his head down, occasionally shifting awkwardly in his seat and adjusting his glasses, a nervous habit. Strange, yes, but he also was also endearing. Or maybe you just pitied him, the same way a sad puppy is both adorable and heart breaking.

The man was about to leave, folding the newspaper into a neat little rectangle and tucking it into his jacket. Before he had a chance to go, you dashed into the back of the diner to reunite him with his forgotten umbrella.

"Wait!" you called out to him, "you forgot your umbrella yesterday."

"Oh," he says quietly. "Thank you." He took the umbrella from your hands.

"I never got your name, by the way. I know all my regulars by their names," you explained.

He stares at you, eyes obscured by the reflection of light on his lenses, expression unreadable. "Edward," he finally introduces himself.

It was around the time that Edward began to frequent the diner that you began to notice strange occurrences.

When you would walk back to your apartment, the sun barely peaking over the tall city buildings, it felt like you were being followed. You could feel a pair of eyes searing into the back of your head. A wave of relief would wash over you once you finally stepped into your apartment.

On one of the few nights off you had, you were laying on the couch when a card was slipped under your front door. Getting up from your comfortable spot, you half-opened the door and peered down the hallway. Empty. It was a small greeting card with a cartoon owl of the front with the text 'owl always love you' written in cursive.

'I have keys but no locks. You can enter, but you can’t go outside. I have space but no room. What am I?' was scribbled messily on the inside of the card.

You didn't sleep that night.

You and Edward had developed an unspoken friendship. Each night you found yourself looking for forward to his visit. While you didn't talk very much, there was a mutual enjoyment of each others company. He would help you solve the puzzles in forgotten newspapers. Edward was very intelligent, always quick to answer. While he liked crosswords and dabbled in sudoku, you learnt riddles were his favourite.

"Are you any good with computers?"

Edward looked up from his puzzle, "I'm okay. Why?"

"Well I've been having this issue with my laptop," you explained. Whenever you tried to use it, it would work for about a minute before the screen blanked. Only a small question mark could be seen, flickering in the top right of the screen. You didn't want to waste your money bringing it to a repair shop or buying a new one, so your best bet was asking Edward. "It's probably a virus from one of those shitty free streaming sites."

"I can come take a look at it."

You scribbled your phone number down on a scrap piece of paper. "Thank you so much."

You had texted back and forth with Edward to arrange a time for him to come to your apartment to look at the laptop. Was it the smartest move to invite an almost-stranger into your apartment? No, but Edward seemed trustworthy enough.

'I'll be there soon :)' his message read.

Soon, there was a knock on your door and you were letting Edward into your apartment. He took a seat at your desk as you booted up your laptop.

"It'll be fine for a few minutes and then-" the screen went black. "Bam!"

Edward adjusted his glasses, bringing the laptop closer. "Yeah, I see what you mean." You watched anxiously as he fiddled around with it to little success.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to fix it here," Edward explained. "However, if I hook it up to my computer at home I should be able to get the virus off it."

"So it can be fixed? I don't need to buy a new laptop?" Edward shook his head no. "Oh, thank you! You don't mind doing it do you?"

"It's okay. I'll give it back to you at work tomorrow."

You thanked Edward profusely as he left your apartment, laptop in hand. When you sat down on the couch, fear punched you in the stomach. The blood drained from your face when your realised that,

You never gave Edward your address.

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lenoraah · 8 months

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𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴

pairing - logan sargeant x reader

summary - cute and (hopefully) short moments in logan and reader’s relationship written in headcannons

a/n - please let this be short, please let this be short, please let this be short

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

movie nights-

~it would be a black and white situation

~either The Wolf of Wall Street or your favorite movie, if your favorite movie is not in English he’d definitely watch with you with subtitles on

~i’m getting a the one blanket vibe and wearing his sweatshirt or hoodie (although that just seems like a daily basis thing)

~would add something different to the popcorn every time

~i feel like eventually you would decide to make a jar with names of movies and choose one from their if you got sick of your favorite movies

~it would be all cute and decorated and sitting in front of the TV

~pinterest would be the core of most of Logan’s problems whenever you had a new idea for movie night

~overall i feel like it would be cheesy yet happy and all cutesy and the two of you would do whatever it took to make the night really relaxing for each other

american football-

~oh this going to be so fun

~so I think we all know that Logan’s favorite team is the Miami Dolphins

~I think if you are American than it would be really fun to watch a game where the Dolphins and your team would be playing

~if you’re not American it would be entertaining to have him explain to you while watching a game

~maybe you would decide to support another team just to annoy him

~I feel like eventually at one point both of your families would get together and watch a game where the Dolphins and your team would play

~I’m imagining lots of screaming, snacks, explaining and backwards caps

~maybe this is just me

valentine’s day-

~either really romantic, like pull out the rose petals and the good silk sheets, or grab a bottle of inexpensive wine and put on a movie and call it a night

~but however I feel like a bouquet of your favorite flowers and breakfast in bed does the trick

~you would be equals, if he gets you something you would do something for him to

~matching bracelets, music box, engraved wallet card insert

~it would be something special every year and the two of you would definitely try to make it unique

~also the fourteen days until Valentine’s Day, you’d wake up and find a different kind of rose on your nightstand

~definitely one of your favorite holidays to celebrate together

comforting him after races-

~we all know what happened at the Dutch GP

~sometimes maybe you just need to hold him and remind him that it’s his first year in F1

~other times maybe the two of you will just sit on the couch or against some wall on your apartment with lemonade and your favorite drink without talking

~the two of you would definitely find things to do that are free of talking and is relaxing and is able to clear your head

~long walks at the park, a swim at the beach, a long shower together

~it’s not that hard to make him feel better some days but some other days it’s hard to make sure that he knows his self worth

~and he would do the same for you because you’re in this together

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x y/n #logan sargeant fanfiction #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 x you #formula 1 #formula one

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