#every single one. you guys are just not letting anyone even make an attempt

[emo-trash101]

Sorry this took so long to come out, society has been uh, beating my ass

Home is Where the Heart is

Pt 6

Daisuke x Male! Reader

Pronouns: Second person, Implied male

Word count: 1k+

TW: People going insane, Jimmy, murder/death, general mouthwashing stuff, internalized homophobia (this is just generally for the whole series)

Day of the crash

Anya had asked you to double check all of the supply closets for more bandaids (since Daisuke was using up all of them(supposedly to see you more)). Which led you to where you are now, carrying this huge and heavy box filled to the brim with bandages of all sorts.

With each step you took it felt like the box got heavier, like it was going to suddenly become slime and slink out of your fingers. But even with your sweaty hands, and tired arms, you manage to lug it almost halfway down the hallway leading to the medical room.

That was until you heard the alarms.

It was loud, and made every single nerve in your body flare up with fear. The red from the emergency lights that had been installed curb your vision, making each and every movement that much more difficult.

You first, drop the box. Nothing in there is worth a life, right? That's at least what you tell yourself when you start running down the hall, trying to frantically find anyone, or anything. But it feels like the whole ship was abandoned, like everyone but you had gotten to notice to leave.

You take a step back, almost in a cowardly way. Like you were a frightened animal being backed into a corner. You then dash towards utility room, hoping Daisuke had half a mind to stay put. Half a mind more than you did.

You never noticed the feeling of the ship moving, not until it stopped. The suddenness of it jerks you back slightly, but as if still caught in your momentum, you continue forward. If you had more a warning, maybe then you would've stopped, but the cold metal colliding with your forehead makes it a bit harder to comprehend that.

You hear the alarms stop, and frantic yelling. You're too disoriented to tell who's who, and what's what. You taste metal, and you can't seem to open your eyes, possibly from exhaustion. You want to lift yourself up, and get back on your feet and help. But your arms are too weak.

So you lay there, face down until you feel yourself get flipped over, a hand wiping over your eyes. "Holy shit are you alive?" You hear someone say, and you feel like you can finally open your eyes. You see Daisuke, with an unbefitting look on his face. The look of fear.

You try to say something, but only incoherent babbles come out. That's when you notice the smell.

Only once had you ever encountered the smell of burning flesh, but this time would make it the second. If you had the strength to, you probably would've vomited immediately.

You hear people rushing, more worried yells and orders being barked. But all you can focus on is the horrible smell. The metallic sting that wafts up your nose.

Daisuke places a hand on your cheek, and it feels wet with something, but you can't place it. That's when you notice the other hand, the one that presumably wiped off your eyes.

It's soaked in blood.

You think you only let yourself close your eyes for a second, just trying to process everything that's happening. But before you know it, you're unconscious, the sounds of Daisuke's sobs and pleas fading into the background.

Day 100

There's only two things on your mind right now. The taste of the sugar packets Daisuke had stolen (he claims they're borrowed), and the fact that both of your guys' knees are touching.

"Yo, are you listening to me anymore?" You hear Daisuke ask, and you realize that you had maybe been paying a little too much attention to those things. "Yeah, yeah sorry." You respond, silently cringing at your repetition.

You both were here attempting to recreate a 'normal' date. It was mostly Daisuke's plan, the old man stories he was receiving from Swansea about him and his wife starting to make him more of, well a romantic. You on the other hand, had nothing better to do than maybe mope around medical until Anya asks you in her polite and sad tone to leave her be.

"Okay then, what did I, Mr.I-was-totally-listening". You can't help but pause, looking back at him, and he has that same exact dorky smile on his face. It's not as bright as usual, but it's there, and it's making you feel sick in the stomach. "Something about us...being...yeah I don't really know." You reluctantly admit, a bashful blush spreading across your face.

You're totally sure he would've teased you for it, had you not just seen him shove half a packet of sugar in his mouth. He mumbles something, his mouth half full. "Dude, you can't speak with your mouth full, you're gonna like choke and die or something." I say, taking another taste of your own sugar packet.

He finally swallows the sugar, smiling at you "Well at least I'd have the prettiest boy in our galaxy to bring me back to life." He says cheekily, and you can't help but laugh. That's something he does. He makes you laugh every single time he says something out of your norm.

"I think I'd just let you die." You retort, an amused look on your face as you watch him feign offense. "Wow, and here I thought you loved me." He pouts slightly, and you have to hold back from pouncing on him, and coating his stupid stupid face in kisses.

You instead, roll your eyes, tucking one of the sugar packets into his pocket on the Hawaiian shirt. You always liked hibiscus tea.

"Here, as a sincere apology." You say, patting the pocket.

"Apology accepted."

I'm actually so sorry this took so long to finish, but I hope you enjoyed it so far

Make sure to drink water and eat food

Last and Next

[thefirstknife]

Seeing some of the latest whining over on Twitter, I think I've realized part of the problem: the content creators who have made playing D2 their life think it's "too easy" and that "toxic casuals are ruining things" because they refuse to admit they're simply too skilled to find a huge challenge anymore. But instead of rebranding to something else and moving on to learn a new game where they'll face challenge and struggle they continue to insist that the game is bad foe catering to "the lowest common denominator". Some of them also seem kind of entitled? Lime the idea that any no-name players (aka people who aren't Big Names in the fandom) could possibly do amazing snd outplay them feels like they're being cheated out of what they're "owed" as their Top Player Bragging Rights? But not everybody who puts in the work to get good at the game engages with the fandom, either. It just feels a lot like some of them think "I put in the work to master it, so nobody else should be allowed to match me and also it needs to keep up with me because I made this game my life". Feels very weird and entitled to me. And I say this as a person who has played some games so much that the highest difficulty settings are a breeze! I just accept that I've mastered it and move on when I want challenge.

Oh yeah, the new elitist dickhead whining is live in the community and it's the same thing as always. Agreed with what you wrote! I think streamers just literally want things to only be "difficult" for them and impossible for everyone else so they can feel special. They can deny it all day long, but there is no logical reason to want FEWER people to play an exciting competition and for FEWER people to feel like they can complete it. Because if people feel like they can't, they won't bother. Why would I waste my time? I'm not getting paid to play the game.

Day 1 raid race is a community contest, meant for the community, aka all players. It's not "special contest for top players only," it's a contest for everyone. It's supposed to be something everyone tries out and does their best, as well as something that is reasonably achievable for more than a grand total of 12 players.

Over the years, Bungie has been hard at work turning raids into an activity that more people will want to play and finish. Including adjusting the way day 1 race is happening and when. They WANT more people to participate which is evident through lowering the amount of grind needed to be ready and moving the race to the weekend, and now extending it to 48 hours. This helps everyone; the community and the devs.

More below:

The moment the day 1 raid race is accessible, that means more people will attempt it and more people will realise that they ARE good enough to raid and complete the contest mode. When the raid race is locked to a power level grind that nobody outside of people playing the video game for a living can achieve, that drastically reduces the number of people who will enter the race. When the raid race is releasing in the middle of the week, nobody outside of streamers will be able to compete. Now, day 1 raid race is no longer limiting in ways that we, the players, can't control.

This means more people can attempt it and at that point, we're dealing with pure numbers. More people attempting means that more people will finish. So when streamers are whining about "numbers," they're whining about the simple hard cold unchangeable logic of math. More people than ever are playing, more people than ever are attempting, more people than ever were able to watch the whole race and figure that they have a chance, and then they had plenty of time to try. This resulted in more completions than ever. Very little to do with the raid being "easy." It wasn't. It was accessible.

There are probably incredibly good players out there who couldn't participate before because they didn't have time or weren't available off work or couldn't ruin their mental and physical health over a 24 hour video game contest. There are probably perfectly average players who can still complete the raid race if they have more time to practice.

And this bothers content creators, because it's telling them that they're not special. Some Joe Shmoe with a 6 year old PC and $5 headset might be incredibly good at Destiny, possibly even better than them, but he didn't have time to compete before. Now he does, because Bungie removed the limit that a player can't control and the content creators are fucking mad as hell because Joe Shmoe, 47, a dad of 3, can finish the contest mode.

They keep insisting this is not the reason they are mad; they're mad because.... uh.... Contest mode is supposed to be SUPER HARD and it's an EXCLUSIVE EVENT that happens TWICE A YEAR!!!! And like. Yeah? Joe Shmoe has the same feeling about it. Joe Shmoe also gets two days a year to participate in a community event. Again, content creators are slowly learning that they're not special and it's a hard hitting truth. Also if more people are playing the raid race, then they're not watching them. That's gotta hurt as well. It's at least 5 fewer subs.

I am so fucking done with their bullshit and their repeated attempts to demean everyone's accomplishments by yelling about the raid being easy and bad and whatever. They are sad people with a void in their hearts.

The raid was absolutely hard. More people than EVER attempted it and MANY haven't been able to complete it. The raid wasn't "easy" in the sense they mean it (they mean easy = bad), it was different. It required different skills and it had a different goal and a different fantasy to invoke in players. Every single one of those bitches used every known cheese and meta tactic to brute force every damage phase and every mechanic, to the point of many of them not figuring out an entire mechanic in the final encounter. They straight up did not understand a mechanic and then dare to say that it was easy. But yeah. They were grasping at every broken build possible and then whining about it being easy. Well I did it with 30 resilience. I am better.

They are absolutely entitled. They feel like they are owed everything in this game because they've been here since 2014 and that if the game is not catering to them, then it's objectively bad. Literally, as you said, they've mastered the game and they're bored of it. But hey, there's money in clickbait about negative stuff so they will keep being miserable playing something they obviously don't like anymore.

I'm so done with those assholes. The raid was an absolute BLAST for me. It was super fun, it was really difficult and it took a long time to get it done, but my team did it, even through a horrible bug that cheated us out of a clear 10 hours early. The raid is SUPER fun, it's an excellent new addition to the raid roster, super helpful for newer players and newer raiders. The mechanics are really smooth and simple, they don't require a lot of callouts, but still rely a LOT on coordination of the whole team. Incredible work threading the line between an incredibly fun raid that is also accessible to everybody. I'll be doing it a lot, it's a really chill experience that still gets your adrenaline going. Bungie did an amazing work with it and I absolutely love it.

I cannot FATHOM a mindset that people have where they want people to NOT be able to experience raids. The most bizarre thing in the world to me. Raids are PEAK content in the game that devs spend a lot of time making and that is currently not being played as much as they want, which is actually a problem resource wise. Since they take so much resources to create, but aren't being used, it's a shame.

This raid was absolutely made with that in mind. They want more people to play to raids. This raid is "easy" in the sense that it is accessible. And there's nothing those assholes hate more than accessibility, I guess. God forbid people who paid for the expansion get to play the expansion. That includes the day 1 contest mode race absolutely. It's for the whole community, not for 50 people with a twitch.tv account.

Every content creator whining about this is a bitch who does not care about the health of the game or the community. They want a game made for them, and only them. They think they own it and that it's good when only 3% of the players play raids. They want every regular player to suffer and leave, to not have fun and to not experience these amazing activities.

They want the game to die.

[phantomrose96]

I'm thinking about Tumblr Live again and ruminating on WHY it's such a huge flop and I think I've figured it out: They've completely refused to make it a tumblr feature...

By which I mean (begrudgingly goes to unsnooze Tumblr live) this:

^This is meant with zero insult or derision to the people above, but these are absolutely not Tumblr users.

Every single thumbnail I've ever seen for Tumblr live seems to say "This is for clout!" "This is for a thirst trap!" "This is for influencers!" "This is for Tiktok wannabe stars!" "This is for showing your pretty filtered face and reaping what people on Instagram and Tiktok are desperately chasing!"

I'm remembering that Reddit has (or had) livestreams you could tune into like this. I've tapped into some. Ones I remember offhand include:

a guy just wandering around downtown in his city silently showing people the streets and stuff

a guy streaming his attempt to beat the last level of Celeste

a guy streaming his dog he was petting

And that, that was Reddit. That was undoubtedly just regular Reddit users going "oh stream feature? yeah okay. here's my dog." "here's my video game." "here's my street corner in Prague."

And when I think of all the recent successful Tumblr features, they're all things that correctly tapped into actual Tumblr user interests. Blaze had people go "haha yeah here's my dog." "here's my advertisement for a horse lawyer (lawyer who is a horse)." They let us buy crabs because, fuck it, crabs. The blue checkmarks were funny. Polls turned into the fandom brackets people have desperately wanted to make for a decade+. I'd wager the merch that calls on old Tumblr memes is at least decently successful.

If Tumblr Live wanted the chance to be successful, it should have been angled toward Tumblr users. "Here, you can livestream your cat if you want." "You can livestream yourself working on some fanart and chatting." "You can livestream yourself going bird watching because birds are your hyperfixation and you can identify them all by their song to all your followers who want to tune in for bird facts."

But Tumblr Live has never tried to be that. It ONLY seems like it wants to be a Tiktok-clone, Instagram-clone, clout-chaser baited-hook trying to pull converts over from Tiktok/Insta/etc who are trying to grow their influencer brand, which Tumblr is lethally hostile to.

(And ALL of this is only touching on the concept behind what's happening here. I haven't even touched on the third-party streaming service and questionable data protection.)

Like fine, I guess I get it from a business model of trying to grow your userbase--since catering to your existing userbase doesn't pull in new meat. But this will not work. Because anyone, tumblr-native or not, trying to grow themselves as an influencer will NOT find success here. This place is not a place of honor. No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here. Nothing valued is here. What is here was dangerous and repulsive to us. We will not watch your Shein haul stream.

[thevoidstaredback]

Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

[lottiies]

THE S. STANDS FOR SLUT

⇢ Leon’s been a horndog over every single one of his coworkers except for you. Your pent up anger finally pays off after you finish a mission with him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, fucking in a forest, unprotected sex, creampie

WC: 1k

NOTE: i won’t be able to get any other fics out until like after a week from now. feel free to send ideas for bots…kind of need some. hopefully the video as a header works in the tags if not i’ll change it (ㅠ‸ㅠ)

MASTERLIST

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Employee of the month? Nah. More like (wannabe) whore of the headquarters. That’s what you deemed Leon to be.

Okay, maybe he didn’t fit your description perfectly, though. It’s not like he got any pussy or dick because they all turned him down. Either way, you couldn’t stand him. The man was practically flirting with anyone who had a developed frontal lobe and yet he had never once made a move on you.

Had it been any other man, you’d be over the moon about it because hello? Who wants a guy who’s trying to get into everyone’s pants? But it’s Leon…the same one who makes a sticky river gush whenever he glances your way.

The fact he didn’t even compliment you made you upset. It wasn’t in a depressing ‘what do they have that I don’t?’ type of way. You were pretty pissed, actually. Maybe he was trying to tick you off on purpose.

Being sent on a mission with him was your last straw.

The tension was palpable. He was such an asshole for messing around with you even during a life threatening scenario! Pinning you against surfaces like you were some damsel in distress, which he knew you weren’t, he’d smirk all smugly when you shoved him off and scowled at him. All the banter got him riled up. What a woman you were. His type to a tee. Felt blood rushing south whenever you handled your gun with expertise.

Like, he wanted to fuck you raw until you needed his help to walk but he also wanted you to slap him around and yank on his hair until he was reduced to a begging mess. Talk about duality. One thing at a time, he must be patient.

He’s not a moron when it comes to your feigned indifference at his antics. If he lacked observational skills, he wouldn’t be here in the first place. You gave him an ego boost. It’s almost like he could see the steam coming right out of your ears whenever he was buttering someone else up, bonus points if it was the receptionist.

Sometimes you got the urge to smack his earpiece comm. Only then would you be spared from Leon's pathetic attempts at flirting with Hunnigan. She’s not interested, Leon!

Anyways.

Mission accomplished. Chopper? Late like usual, what’s new? Here you and Leon were outside in the middle of fucking nowhere, sitting on a log like you were on a camping trip. Yeah, well the tent and high spirit is missing.

You were on edge, and Leon’s idle whistling broke you. God, what a tiny thing to get upset over.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” You were so done with him. Why was he sitting so close to you when there was tons of space on the log? His knee was brushing up against yours.

Leon let out an amused huff, giving your forehead a flick just to spite you.

“So uptight, bet you haven’t gotten dicked down in a while. That’s what you need to blow off some steam.”

“You’re one to talk, when’s the last time you got laid? Last time I checked, your attempts at whoring around have been completely unsuccessful.”

“Ah, so the princess has been keeping tabs on me? How cute. Consider me flattered.”

“I wasn’t.“ You rolled your eyes, glaring at him. “It doesn’t take much effort to figure it out, you just wanna get your dick wet.”

“What, are you obsessed with my dick or something? Jealous?”

“No! Ugh…you’re so fucking gross, Leon.” Giving him a shove on the shoulder didn’t move him at all. He curled a hand around your waist and brought you closer, his lips right against your ear.

“Maybe I don’t have much game, but at least I’m not being a little bitch about it. You just need someone to fuck all that sass outta ya, sweetheart.”

Okay. Wow. Maybe his voice was his superpower because that’s all you could focus on now. Were you really in a forest if you could no longer hear the rustling of tall and mighty trees or the distant buzzing and yapping of insects and birds?

And maybe his voice was hypnotic too because you don’t know how the hell you ended up on your fucking hands and knees. Ouch, your fingers hurt from the way they dug into the dirt but the way Leon was hitting your sweet spot made up for it.

His right glove was all damp from the way he had ground his palm against your clit just a couple minutes prior.

You were both still clothed, just having your pants down enough so you could get to the point.

There was a reason Leon liked you so much, you weren’t all that high maintenance, and you were actually fun. Would any of those receptionists with freshly manicured nails and keratin treatment on their hair be okay with getting dirt and leaves all over them? No! They’d want to fuck in a lavish bedroom with candles and shitty romantic songs playing. Instant boner killer.

His dick wouldn’t get hard for any woman who wasn’t you after this. He didn’t wanna waste a single load, no, they all had to be dumped into you.

“If you wanted to fuck, you could’ve just asked. Could’ve been going at it like rabbits ages ago.”

“I like it better when you don’t talk.” You gritted in response, reaching a hand back to slap the one he had on your hip. He liked the way you bit back, yeah, it had him twitching inside you.

“That right? Your pussy has a mind of its own then, got allllll nice and tight around me right now. She’s begging for me.”

You had always been Leon’s wet dream, but that fantasy felt nowhere as good as the real thing. He has no issue letting you know, either, he’s always had a big mouth.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, bet I’m the first one to stretch it all out.”

“Been looking at your tits all day, don’t they hurt after bouncing from all this running?” He snaked his hand up your shirt and squeezed your chest, rolling the flesh between his fingers before giving one of your hard nipples a pinch.

If you weren’t losing grasp of reality you would’ve been able to notice the distant sounds of rotor blades whirling around.

“Hear that, sweetheart? We gotta hurry.”

Yeah you’d rather die than be found getting fucked by Leon Slut Kennedy. You always thought those facial expressions pornstars made were unrealistic, but now you were mimicking it without much effort. If you snapped a shot of it you’d be famous on Twitter. How embarrassing, or maybe flattering?

“Atta girl, you like it nasty huh?” His hand wrapped around your throat like it was your personal collar and his murmured growl of your name had you seeing stars. He came inside you, pumping you with everything and slapping your ass before pulling your panties up so his load was trapped with you.

What a bastard.

The chopper ride back to HQ was uncomfortable with his cum plugging you up like a damn toy.

“You, me, hotel room after this?” Leon asked all cheekily as he nudged your shoulder, too busy looking at the way you had your legs crossed instead of the pretty view outside the window.

Maybe he’d finally get a good old slap to the face from you like he deserved while you rode him.

[twitchmattentusiast]

｡°✩ PROVE IT . . . . .ᐟ

── MATTHEW STURNIOLO.

pairings. matthew sturniolo x female reader (mentions of christopher sturniolo)

❝ You know Chris would lose his shit if he saw us out here together, right? ❞

# warnings: drugs, alcohol, toxic chris + toxic matt, mentions of toxic relationship, female + male receiving, doggy style, recording?? dom!matt x switch (mostly sub) reader!

── authors note: matt and chris do NOT get along in this btw they’ve got some sibling rivalry. this is purely fictional so obvs i don’t think this is how they’d act in real life !

The house reeked of alcohol, weed, and sex—a combination that you wouldn't complain about on a normal day, but today wasn't a normal day; it was hell. The speakers blared some type of shitty trap music, and if you hadn't introduced your ex to real music, you would think that he was the one on aux tonight. 

You were pissed off, which wasn't something unusual; you were usually in a bad mood, but tonight one particular person put you in an extra bad mood, ruining your entire night. 

your ex.

 christopher sturniolo.

 Chris Sturniolo walked into your life like a storm that was dying to cause some destruction. and as you look back on your year-and-a-half relationship, you realise that's exactly what he had done. You first met each other at a party in your freshman year of college. your roommate, who had finally decided to sleep in your dorm tonight instead of staying at her boyfriends like she did every. single. night. dragged you to some kind of frat party and then ditched you for her boyfriend. You didn't mind. she actually asked you first if you were cool with her leaving, and at first you thought it was a good idea until you realised you didn't actually know anyone here, so you were left alone on your own devices with a full bottle of tequila.

It took you ten minutes to find your way around the frat, but you finally found the kitchen and found refuge in the fact that it was empty, so you did what any freshmen would do: drown your sorrows in alcohol because you were slightly too socially awkward to make new friends.

You were alone for a full twenty-five minutes until a group of obnoxious guys walked in, all talking loudly and pissing you off instantly. You wanted some alone time, and these stupidly drunk guys were ruining that. Your lips were twitching in a frown until your eye caught onto the last guy who walked into the kitchen, and you were instantly mesmerised. 

It took him a minute, since he was so caught up on talking to his friends and laughing too loudly, but his eyes locked into yours, and they twinkled. There was just something about him that drew you to him, and so with some (a lot) of liquid courage since you had managed to down a large amount of the tequila, you walked over to him in attempts to start a conversation, hoping he'd eagerly respond and not laugh in your face. 

He didn't laugh in your face.

Instead, he smiled at you, instantly sparking a conversation that he wordlessly carried, and to your surprise, your anxiety slipped away. You talked to him so easily. The conversation flowed for hours, with his friends biding him goodbye as they were off to meet some other friends or something.

an hour or something into your conversation, he split some tequila onto your white shirt and apolgosied profusely. It was your favourite shirt, but you were too drunk to care, and he was too cute. You didn't want to act dramatic and scare him away, so you let him grab your hand, trying to ignore the sparks as he dragged you gently up the stairs and towards the bathroom, attempting to get the stain away. He was sure it would work.

 It didn't work.

You couldn't help but laugh at him, at how focused he was on getting the stain away when you didn't even care. The next thing you knew, you were staring at each other, and then your lips were connected, and all of a sudden you were making out, and then you were fucking in some random bathroom for what felt like hours. 

and after that, you and Chris spent all your time together. It was like you were stuck by some kind of glue, as you never left each other's sides. You haven't known each other that long, but it felt like you were meant to be. You weren't officially dating yet; you were scared of commitment, and so was Chris, so you just stuck with having sex, and the sex was fucking amazing. You would go to visit Chris after his practice every day. Once they were all packed up and his friends had left, he'd drag you to his room and serenade you with his guitar, resulting in you two fucking. again.

and you guys would repeat the cycle basically every night.

 You started showing up to his practices, deciding you wanted to actually get to know his friends. Chris would occasionally teach you how to play the guitar, and you started to fall in love with music. So you helped him come up with a band name, book gigs, and budget because, god knows, none of the boys knew how to do that and design their outfits. You went to every gig hiding behind the scenes because you hated being on stage, but they all treated you like you were part of the band because, with how much you did, you were part of them. 

You helped with all of it even before Chris finally managed to lock it down a week later.

 With how much time you spent with Chris, you thought you knew everything about him. After all, you guys would stay up all night just watching the stars as you smoked on his roof and talked. But it turned out that Chris had forgotten to mention one tiny little thing to you.

 or rather three.

 It turned out that Chris had a brother. but not just one of them. No, he had three brothers, and he hadn’t told you about a single one of them. Imagine your surprise when you show up at Chris's doorstep wearing nothing but a long trench coat and Chris's favourite lingerie set when someone who looks similar to your boyfriend but isn't quite your boyfriend opens the door with his own surprise etched on his face until he starts smirking.

 That was the first day that you met Matt, and you quickly learned that the reason Chris never spoke about his brothers, especially Matt, was because he didn't get along with him. at. all. 

Every time you showed up at his house, Chris and Matt would get into some kind of argument that lasted for hours and got way out of hand faster than needed. According to Nick, they had some kind of feud and always had.

 At first, you didn't have a problem with Matt. He was your boyfriend's brother, and even if Chris didn't necessarily get along with him, you didn't want to be rude. but eventually the way he'd always talk down to Chris annoyed you, and the way he'd always smirk at you when he'd see you. at parties, at his house, even at the dinner table! He'd sit opposite you, smirking at you as if he knew some kind of secret that you didn't know, and it drove you up the fucking wall.

 You later found out that Matt was a womaniser, and that was a good reason for you to stay far away from him. You decided that if he wasn't going to be nice to you or your boyfriend, then you'd ignore him too. In hindsight, maybe it wasn't the nicest thing to do, but you didn't have much of a choice considering Chris instantly dragged you away when Matt was in sight. 

but things were different now. Sure, back then Chris could have a say and decide what you could do. He had always been annoyingly controlling, but he had fucked you over so you could speak to whoever you wanted and do whatever the fuck you pleased. It was two days ago when Chris broke up with you, claiming he believed the relationship wasn't working out anymore and that you guys were heading down different paths. He had literally dropped out of college only a week ago, and his band, after a year of being together, had only slightly started to pick up, so you weren't even sure what the fuck he was talking about; you were just pissed off.

 Once again, your roommate had dragged you to this party you didn't want to be at. Only this time you bumped into your ex, who was making out with some blonde girl on a couch. His only response when he noticed you caught him was a shrug.

 a fucking shrug!

 Now listen, you and Chris have broken up multiple times in the past year. Whenever an argument went too far, you'd decide to break up, but you'd always find your way to the other's house an hour later, but this time it was different. It had only been two days, Chris hadn't turned up to your house, and now he was making out with some random girl.

 You were pissed off. 

You usually don't smoke much, mostly because of your stupid ex, who always had to have a say in what you did, and you stupidly let him. had a problem with it. That never stopped him from smoking, though. With how annoyed you are now, though, a smoke seems like the only thing that will stop you from either having a breakdown in front of this whole party or killing Chris, so you quickly make your way outside, pushing the door open as you unzip your bag, beginning to fish through it for a cigarette. 

As you finally pulled the cigarette from your bag, a trail of curses left your mouth. your mind going back to your stupid ex, who had apparently moved on just fine, which just pissed you off more. You wanted to piss Chris off and hurt him just like he had hurt you. You needed to find someone to make out with and maybe do a little something more, but you needed it to seem real. God knows, you couldn't fake anything anymore. but who? Sure, you could walk up to a random guy at a party, it wouldn't take much to convince him to makeout with you. but again, you didn't want to fake it. which left your options very limited. 

so who?

nathan?

nah. he was just like chris.

"Need a lighter sweetheart?"

You didn't even need to turn around; the all-too-familiar cocky smooth tone hit your ears, causing your lips to slightly curve into a smirk.

It looks like you found your guy.

Matt leaned against the railings. His arms crossed over his chest as he watched you with a smirk on his face. It was the same smirk he gave you every time you walked past him. It was the same smirk he gave you when he first caught you checking him out when you first met. and it was the same smirk he gave you and Chris when you were all sitting at the table and he sat opposite you.

Matt was a pain in your ass, a thorn in your side, an annoyance you desperately wished you could flick away, but you couldn't, not when you were with Chris. but maybe you could now.

Chris would freak the fuck out if he knew you were even standing this close to Matt, let alone about to smoke a joint with him, but that made it all the more exciting. All you wanted to do right now was piss off Chris, and you knew that's all Matt ever wanted to do too. Before you can drag out the joint to answer him, he acts quicker, brushing his fingertips on your chin, almost tugging you closer to him. He licks his lips, wetting them with a chuckle.

He held the lighter up to the tip of the joint, watching as the flame licked at the dried herb. The smell wafted up, filling the air between them. He looked up at you, his eyes darkening slightly as he took in your appearance. He released the lighter, letting it dangle from its chain around his fingers.

His gaze lingered on your lips, and he wondered how they'd taste. He wondered how they'd feel wrapped around his cock. He wondered if they were as soft as they looked. 

Your red dress that hugs your figure so perfectly that it makes Matt internally groan rides up your thighs when you straighten up. Taking an inhale from the joint, you blow the smoke in his face without a care. He watches each of your movements, the stupid smirk sitting on his lips growing wider the more his eyes move up and down your body. You almost want to chuckle at how easy this is.

He reached out, grabbing your wrist lightly. He pulled you closer to him until your bodies were just barely touching. He leaned in, whispering in your ear.

He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and he loved every second of it.

"You know Chris would lose his shit if he saw us out here together, right?"

His breath tickled your ear as he whispered the words, sending shivers down your spine. You could practically hear the smugness in his voice. He knew exactly how to get under your skin.

You glared at him, pulling away slightly. You took another drag from the joint, blowing the smoke in his direction again. You wanted to provoke him and see what he'd do next.

"Maybe I want him to see us together," you said, your voice low and sultry.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise before a smirk spread across his face. It felt like this was the most important thing that you'd ever said to him. Usually you just glare at him or simply ignore his existence, so to see you like this, smile at him, looking at him all boldly in that slutty red dress. fuck. He stepped closer, his hands finding their way to your hips. He pulled you flush against him, feeling the heat radiating off of you.

"Is that so?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave lower. "You want to make Chris jealous?"

He leaned in, his lips hovering just barely above yours. He could feel your breath hitching, and he knew he had you where he wanted you.

 Little did he know you had him where you wanted him.

Matt was all about the chase. and you knew how to play that game all too well.

You licked your lips slightly, and Matt smirked as he trailed his hand up your arm. "You know... I always thought that you needed someone better to take care of you.”

You raised your eyebrows. "Someone like you?" You asked sarcastically, provoking him even more, and with the way his eyes darkened, you could tell it was working.

His smirk grew wider, his hand trailing down her arm to rest on your hip. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Exactly like me."

Your eyes twinkled. "prove it."

you challenged him, your eyes locked on his. you could feel the tension building between you, and you knew there was no turning back now. but that's exactly what yoy wanted, not that you would admit that to me out loud ever. you just wanted to push him some more and see how far he would go. Would he really kiss his brother's ex-girlfriend? Would he fuck you? God, would he eat you ou-

He chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "Always such an angel, hm?"

You smiled devilishly. You were starting to get impatient with all this talk. You weren't much for talking, especially when you felt your panties dappen even more, something Chris had never managed to do with some looks and words. You knew what Matt was doing; he wanted you to make the first move to brag that you had given in first, and if that's what it was going to take, you would do it. You're in his hands now. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to meet your lips in a passionate kiss.

He groaned into the kiss, his tongue darting out to tangle with yours. His hands roamed down the sides of your body, moving towards your ass to squeeze it, causing you to moan, leaving Matt to smirk into the kiss.

You pushed Matt against the wall, grinding your hips against his. You could feel his cock throbbing against you, making you moan into the kiss. You broke the kiss only to pant against his lips. "Upstairs," you said breathlessly as Matt reconnected your lips again and again, pulling at them harshly.

Matt pulled away from her lips just enough to say, "Yeah, upstairs." 

He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. He could feel your hips grinding against him, and he found himself getting harder. He wanted you; he always had. But this was different; this was revenge, and that made it all the sweeter.

you purposely grinded against Matt as you felt Chris's eyes on yoy. before you giggled, dragging Matt upstairs and waving to Chris sweetly as you passed him. disappearing out his sight. 

Matt grinned, following you up the stairs. He watched you, admiring your form. He couldn't wait to have you bent over the bed, begging for him to fuck you. He knew it would be good, but he didn't think it would be this good.

His eyes flicked over to Chris, and he gave him a little wave too, copying your actions before disappearing up the stairs with you. He knew Chris would be furious, and that made him even more smug.

Chris had always told him to stay away from you, and now he was going to do the exact opposite. 

You slammed the door shut behind you, locking it, before pushing Matt against the wall. You pinned him there with your body, pressing your breasts against his chest as you kissed him passionately.

Matt groaned into the kiss, his hands roaming over your body. He squeezed your ass, pulling your hips tighter against his. He could feel your hard nipples pressing against his chest, and he found himself getting harder.

"God, I've wanted you for so long," he murmured against her lips before kissing her again.

"Prove it," you teased again.

 Matt growled, his teeth nipping at your neck. He could smell the alcohol on your breath, and he found himself getting more aroused. He wanted you; he wanted to claim you as his.

"I will," he promised. "How about I prove it to you and Chris?"

Confusion appeared on your face until Matt motioned to what was in his hand. a camera. excitement pooled in your stomach. Did he want to film you? Was he going to send it to Chris? You keep her face neutral, trying not to get your hopes up, knowing that if you were wrong, Matt would tease you for it forever.

Matt grinned, holding the camera up to show you. He leaned in, capturing your faces in the lens. He clicked the button, snapping a picture of you and then him. He then moved the camera down, pointing it at your cleavage.

"Trust me, Chris is going to love seeing this."

Chris wasn't going to love this. He was going to hate both of you. you knew that and so did he get that made it more exicitng. the idea of fucking his britter? the one Chris made sure to keep you away from at all costs? It turned you on so much, and Matt is filming you guys? Chris had never done such a thing, which just showed how different they were.

"You look so fucking hot." Matt murmured as he switched the camera to video and pointed at you, telling you to say hi to Chris, which you did, looking at the camera all shyly.

"Don't be shy, baby." Matt tutted as he lifted your chin up with his finger. "Chris brought this upon himself, being such an ass to you." he taunted.

You bit your lip as Matt slowly unzipped your dress, leaving you in your lacy bra and pants, which made him groan. "fuckk"

You reached behind and unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor, exposing your perky tits. "Now you," you said, tugging at the bottom of his shirt as your other hand trailed towards his budge.

Matt smirked as he faced the camera towards you. "See, Chris, your girl is begging to see my cock, but she never begged for yours like that, did she?"

If you weren't so turned on, you would roll your eyes at all the digs Matt was making. He was clearly doing this for the exact same reason as you to get back at Chris, only wanting to extend their britter rivalry longer, but you were literally dropping, so you ignored his digs, just agreeing to whatever he said so he could hurry up and just do something!

Matt must have sensed your desperation as he chuckled slightly, looking at you expectantly as he harshly pushed you onto the floor, making you moan pathetically. Chris had always been too soft when you fucked, which you didn't mind most of the time, but sometimes you wanted to be treated like a slut, and you knew Matt would do exactly that. "Well, go on then," Matt said. "Suck it."

You grinned wickedly as Matt stripped his shirt off. You kneeled before him, reaching for his belt. You undid it quickly, pulling his pants and underwear down enough to free his cock. You looked up at him, your lips wrapping around his length. You began to suck him off, your hand stroking the base of his cock as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft.

Matt moaned, running his fingers through your hair. He could feel your mouth working on him. "Fuck, you're so good at that," he murmured, thrusting his hips forward harshly.

You continued to suck Matt off, taking his thick cock deeper and deeper into your throat. You gagged slightly as you took every inch of his cock into your throat. Your eyes were glazed over with lust as you sucked him off hungrily.

Matt was so big. bigger than Chris. You couldn't wait for the moment his cock was inside you. God, you were literally going dumb thinking at that moment. 

Matt angled the camera down at you, chuckling as you moaned as she took more of his cock. "That's it, baby, you're doing so good."

You moaned at his words. Praise had always been one of your biggest kinks, and hearing Matt praise you surprised turned you on even more. 

You continued to suck Matt off, taking his entire cock into your throat over and over. You moaned softly as you felt him throb in your mouth. You continued to stroke the base of his cock as you sucked him off.

Matt groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair. He could feel himself getting close, and he wasn't sure if he could hold back much longer.

"I'm going to cum," he warned, pulling out of your mouth. He aimed his cock at your chest, groaning as he came. He painted your tits with his cum, watching as it dripped down your skin. He groaned as he pointed the camera at your chest, watching as you swiped some with your fingers and sucked on it, moaning in response.

"Your girl is such a slut, Chris. This is why you've been hiding her from me this whole time, huh?"

You licked up the remnants of Matt's cum from your fingers, smacking your lips. You winked at the camera as you did so, looking seductively into the lens before standing up and seductively walking up to the bed, making sure to sway your hips as Matt chuckled, walking behind you and smacking your ass harshly.

 Matt chuckled, slapping your ass again. He could see the red mark left by his hand, and it only made him want to do it again.

"You're such a bad girl, baby," he purred, his hand trailing down to your pussycat. He rubbed your clit through your panties, feeling how wet you was. "You like that, don't you?" He smirked as he saw the wet spot on your panties. You were enjoying this as much as he was.

You shivered as Matt touched your pussy through your panties. You nodded, biting your lip as you tried to suppress a moan.

Matt chuckled, pulling your panties aside. He slipped two fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out slowly. He curled them, finding your g-spot and rubbing it, still receiving no response as gasps left your mouth. 

"You like that?" he taunted. 

You cried out in pleasure as he rubbed your g-spot. You arched your back, pressing yourself further onto his fingers. You could feel the cold metal of his rings against your clit, and it was driving you insane. 

"words sweetheart." Matt threatened as his pace slowed down.

You whimpered as Matt slowed his pace. You hated that he did that, especially now that you were so close to cumming. You were so desperate for release. "Please... please don't stop," you whined. 

Your voice was shaky as you spoke. You had never been this horny in your life. All you could think about was how badly you needed to cum.

Matt chuckled, speeding up his pace. He could hear the desperation in your voice, and it only spurred him on more.

"That's it; just beg for it," he teased, adding a third finger to stretch your pussy out even more.

you screamed as matt added another finger to your pussy. you couldn't believe how full you were right now. you didn't know whether to be embarrassed or turned on by how loud she was being.

"Oh god! oh fuck!" matt smirked and leaned down licking her pussy.

Matt smiled, licking your pussy again. He could taste how wet you were, and it only made him want to eat you out more. He buried his face between your legs, licking and sucking on your clit.

"You're so fucking tasty," he murmured against your pussy, continuing to lick and suck on your clit.

You screamed out in ecstasy as Matt ate you out. You had never felt anything quite like this before. Even when Chris used to eat you out, it was never anything like this. You could feel an intense wave of pleasure building up inside of you. "oh fuck! i'm gonna-"

Matt kept eating you out. ignoring how you attempted to push him away. "Cum for me, baby," he said.

As Matt told you to, you lost control. You screamed out as your body tensed up. Your pussycat clenched tightly around nothing as you rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. 

Matt watched as you came, your body trembling with pleasure. He could see how much you enjoyed it, and it only made it harder.

"Such a good girl for me, hm?" He smirked as he positioned the camera on the table.

You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath after the intense orgasm. You hated to admit it, but you don't think Chris ever made you come that hard. Before you can reply, Matt suddenly flips you over.

Your eyes widen. "Matt, I don't think I can take it." You shake your head. Your legs were already shaking. Fuck that. your entire body was already shaking simply from Matt eating you out. You're far too sensitive. You don't think you can survive anything else anymore.

 Matt chuckled darkly. "What happened to me proving it to you, baby?" he asked.

Your lips clamp shut as Matt repeats your earlier words back to you. As sensitive as you are, you unfortunately never back down from a. Challenge aside, if Matt is that good at giving an orgasm from that alone, surely getting fucked will be a million times better, so you whine as he smacks your ass again.

Matt smirked as he saw your wetness drop down your thighs. Seeing you on all fours like this made you a million times hotter. Hell, the way you were moaning and whining for him, you were slowly becoming a hot mess for him. The lipstick smudged all over your face, showing that. 

"You're such a dirty little slut," he murmured, sliding his cock into you from behind. He gripped your hips tightly, pounding into you hard.

"And you love every second of it."

You didn't have the energy to argue; you were still trying to catch your breath after your last orgasm, but even if you could argue, you wouldn't deny it; you were loving every second of this.

You gasped as Matt slid his cock into you even deeper. You loved how deep he went inside of you. You could feel every single inch of him filling you up. "Fuck Matt, yes!" you moaned out in pleasure as he pounded into you.

Matt slapped your ass again, figuring out that the last time he did it, you liked it. He smirked as you moaned loudly as the sound echoed through the room. "You love my cock, don't you, baby?" he asked. 

You whined about the pleasure being too much; you couldn't reply until Matt slammed into you even harder, causing you to fall into the mattress. 

"I said, Do you love my cock?" Matt repeated grabbing onto your hair as your ass was in the air and your head was buried in the pillow. tears pooled in your eyes;; thepleasure wase was too much.

"yes matt! yes! I love your cock!" you moaned. 

Matt smirked and reached around, pinching your nipples as he fucked you.

"such a fucking whore loving mine and my brothers cock hm?"

His words made you feel even dirtier. Chris was never that good at small talk, but the filth that was leaving Matt's mouth made you go insane.

You could feel your body responding to each of his movements. You were so turned on right now that you could hardly reply. "Yes!  Fuck yes, Matt!"

Matt chuckled. He loved how fucked up you looked, and he loved even more how fast you were becoming a mess for him. He gripped onto your waist, fucking you even faster from behind if that's even possible, loving the loud moans that leave your mouth. He can't believe his brother was the lucky guy able to fuck you. Chris; he didn't even do it right. You were probably left unsatisfied, and that just made Matt want to make you even more of a mess for him. 

You let out a loud cry as Matt pulled your hair even harder. You could feel your body shaking as he continued to fuck you. You were so close to losing it again. "Matt!" you gasped, whine falling from your lips as you couldn't even form a sentence correctly. "i’m gonna cum aga-"

Matt chuckled upon hearing you say you were going to cum again. He loved seeing you lose control like this. He quickened his pace, thrusting into you hard.

"Then do it, cum for me."

You screamed out as Matt thrust into you hard. You could feel your entire body tensing up as you got closer and closer to cumming. Finally, you couldn't hold back anymore, and you came. hard.

"oh fuck! i'm cumming!"

Matt could feel your pussy clenching around his cock, and it pushed him over the edge. He groaned loudly, filling you up with his cum.

"That's it; take my cum." He praised as you moaned loudly, begging for him to come inside him.

Matt chuckled, thrusting into you one last time. He filled you up with his hot cum, painting your insides white, and then pulled out, watching as their cum that was mixed together dropped out of her. 

"There's a good girl," he praised, kissing your back softly.

You were far too out of it to even reply. You just bummed softly as Matt trailed kisses on your collarbone, softly rubbing your sides as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You nodded your head. "Yeah, that was just." You trailed off, hoping he got the hint, and of course the cocky fucker did.

"amazing? the best you ever had? magical?" 

You laughed and pushed him away from you. "Shut the fuck, you freak," you said. You were still trying to catch your breath, so you flopped back onto the bed, lying on the mattress, as Matt chuckled before disappearing somewhere. 

You didn't question him; he was too tired to even ask where he was going, but he returned moments later with a bottle of tequila, a rag to clean you up, and a spare t-shirt of his. 

He smirked up at you as he locked the door and pulled out a joint. "You want to dedicate a joint to that special somebody or what?" 

You rolled your eyes at the boy but let him clean you up, put his t-shirt on you, and the pair of you spent the rest of the night drinking tequila, sharing the joint, and ignoring any calls Chris left either of you. 

｡°✩

BYEE was this too much? i feel like i lowk went overboard but i also feel like this kinda sucks idk but let me know if you guys want a pt 2 or not cause i had an idea of some jealous chris sex☺️

[reiding-writing]

Hi 💜 can i pretty please request a fem!Reader where she looks younger than she actually is and people are often condescending to her but bf spence always has our back

(under)qualified [ s.r ]

WARNINGS: fem!reader, ageism, dick of a character that i made up, reader gets angry

spencer reid x cold!reader | hurt/comfort? | 2.1k |

series masterlist!!

a/n: so i unintentionally self projected on this and it ended up as an unintentional sequel to my cold!reader fic sorry 😭🫶

main masterlist!!

“Yes I understand that but if you’d just let me-“ Your attempt is immediately shut down by the man in front of you raising his hand like you’re a child who’s spoken out of turn.

You’d been trying for almost forty five minutes to reason with him, but every single thing that you said was dismissed like you were asking him for cookies after bed time instead of putting your two cents forward as a qualified psychologist on the mental state that the unsub you were tracking down was likely to be in.

“If you want to be useful, why don’t you go and make me a coffee? You can do that can’t you?” The look he gave you made you want to tear out your eyes so you couldn’t see him anymore and then force them down his mouth so you didn’t have to hear him anymore.

You swallow your pride with a clench of your fists, exhaling slowly through your nose. “…Yes Sir,”

“Splenda and skim,”

If he weren’t your superior you’d shove his splenda right up his asshole and watch it leak down his legs like a five year old who wets the bed.

You stuff the urge to slam the door on your exit into the back of your head, although you’re sure you are basically steaming from the ears by the time you reach the coffee machine.

You may well have been physically steaming from the ears if the looks from your teammates had anything to say about it.

“Something tells me she’s not getting along with Dr. Lancaster too well-“ Morgan’s assessment was met with agreement from Emily and a concerned glance in your direction from Spencer.

“Does anyone get along with him? Even Hotch can’t stand the guy,” Emily’s eyes turn towards where he stands in the conference room. “I still don’t get why he’s even here,”

“Strauss thinks he’s a valuable asset to the team-“ Spencer speaks as he stands, eyes still locked on your back as he leaves Morgan and Emily at the desk to make sure that you’re alright.

“Hey,” You look like your about to rip him to shreds as you turn towards him, although the minute you realise that it’s just Spencer and not the pain up your ass that is Dr. Lancaster your expression softens tenfold. “Are you- uh- Are you okay?”

That split second of venom in your facial features seems to knock the wind out of Spencer’s sails, and he’s increasingly glad that he’s not the one on the end of your rage.

“Oh i’m just grand,” You tone is dripping with sarcasm, and he watches as you unscrew one of the salt shakers and scoop a half teaspoon into the mug in front of you.

“Uh-” He has half the mind to question your actions, but the contempt that returns to your eyes as you turn them down to the coffee in front of you tells him that it’s most likely for the Doctor still in the conference room, and considering you were practically burning holes in everything you saw when you left the room yourself, he figured that this was you playing nice.

“You’d think that nobody under the age of fifty is allowed to have a PhD I swear-“ You don’t need any prompting to start spilling all of your anger for Spencer to hear.

“‘You’re too young to have a PhD’ he says, ‘go and make me a coffee’, oh I’ll make you a cup of coffee alright, and hopefully it’ll rot your intestines as you drink it,” You’re just rambling to yourself at this point, and Spencer purses his lips into a line as he listens to you, unsure whether to interject or just let you rant. “I’m a qualified psychologist for god’s sake, not a fucking coffee runner.”

He definitely knows how it feels to have your intelligence questioned because of your age, but in your case you weren’t even exceptionally young for your education, even if you looked a few years younger than you actually were.

You were 23 when you got your PhD. Which yes was a few years younger than the average person, didn’t make you any less qualified than someone like Dr. Lancaster who’d had his PhD for over two decades.

If anything it probably made you more qualified. Social sciences like Psychology changed all the time, and someone who was stuck in the mindset of what it was like twenty years ago would probably overlook things younger specialists would see immediately.

He guessed that was probably what was happening with you and Dr. Lancaster back in the conference room.

“Would you like me to speak with him?” Spencer’s tone carries nothing but sweetness, as well as a slight hesitation in the possibility of increasing your frustration rather than helping you quell it.

“It’s fine Reid, I’ve got it.” You tone is notably filled with much lest resentment as you turn down his offer, but he can still hear the lingering frustration in your words. He trails behind you regardless, following as you re-enter the conference room with the coffee mug held in your hand and a feigned smile on your face.

He’s sure you can handle yourself, he’s just there for backup. Just in case.

“There you are, I was starting to think you couldn’t even find your way to the coffee machine,” You force yourself to bite your tongue and just give him the coffee before retreating to the opposite side of the conference room to watch him drink it, ensuring a quick escape if he doesn��t take kindly to the salty beverage.

You could see the instant shift in his facial expression as he took the first sip, his eyes immediately turning towards you and Spencer with a disgusted look on his face. “You call this coffee? It’s disgusting.” He discards the cup on the table, glaring daggers into your forehead.

“Guess I’m not qualified enough to make it,” You shrug with an overly nonchalant expression. “You know what they say, you want something done right you gotta do it yourself,”

“You little-” Dr. Lancaster was the one steaming from the ears now, and Spencer had to step in to stop the two of you getting into a full blown argument.

“You know studies have shown that if you view something pessimistically before you experience it, you’re more likely come out with a negative opinion afterwards,” Spencer’s sentence accuses the doctor of mentally disregarding the coffee because of his distaste for you rather than the fact that you put half a teaspoon of salt in the drink.

You have to suppress a small smile at his interjection. Spencer Reid. Helping you get away with purposefully tampering with a superior’s cup of coffee because you were petty over his condescension. Who would’ve thought.

You can see Dr. Lancaster open his mouth to retort, but Spencer doesn’t give him the chance. “Is this the psychological profile you’re working on? There’s still a lot of gaps in it,”

Spencer reads the board with a raised eyebrow. Some of what’s written makes absolutely zero sense and he’s beginning to wonder whether Dr. Lancaster was even a ‘doctor’ at all. Although it was at least much easier to read than when you’d scrawl out your own profiles. But he’d leave that part out when talking to you about this later.

“You’ve ruled out the possibility of deluded fantasies as part of the MO?” That was the oddest part to Spencer. The unsub showed a clear repetitive pattern in how he’d kill his victims, making the idea of delusion the literal first thing to look into as part of their psychology. He glanced at you as you spoke and you gave him a shrug of your shoulders and a shake of your head that told him exactly how frustrating the last hour of your life had been.

“Are you questioning my decisions?” Dr. Lancaster’s voice was just as harsh to Spencer as it was to you, and you had half the mind to pour the rest of the coffee you made him over his head and hope the salt got in his eyes and blinded him.

“Well, I do have my Bachelor’s in Psychology so I feel I have an adequate knowledge on the subject, although I’m sure our psychological expert would be a better person to assess the holes in your profile,” Spencer gestures his head over to you as he speaks, and you can see the anger rise into Dr. Lancaster’s face like one of those baking soda and vinegar volcanoes.

By now your sure your smile at Spencer’s interjections is visible, and your not even sure that you’re trying to hide it anymore.

“How dare you suggest that my methods are inadequate,”

“With all due respect sir, psychology is an ever-changing science, and your… methods are not as effective as they used to be back when you used to work with the BAU twenty years ago,”

“We’re on a time limit here, so either you can work with me, or i’ll make my own profile and pitch it to Hotch separately,” You take a seat on the edge of the conference table and gesture your hands outwards.

Dr. Lancaster looked like he was about to blow a fuse, and if he was any older you’d be convinced he was about to have a heart attack and die right there in the middle of the room from rage.

He looked absolutely astounded at your tag teaming, and you’re sure that the both of you being in your early thirties whilst he was in his late sixties was not helping with the seething anger that was showing all over his face. “You two have some nerve speaking to your superior like this. I will be bringing this up to Chief Strauss, believe me.”

He didn’t give either of you the time to say anything else as he pushed past Spencer to leave the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Talk about immature, you’d think he was a child,” Your final jab is met by a small laugh from Spencer, and you shoot him a small smile of thanks that makes his cheeks heat up.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” Spencer gives you that perfectly awkward endearing smile as he retreats to the door of the room and you almost melt at the sight.

He’d really gone out of his way to deal with the asshole plaguing your work to no real benefit of his own. You wouldn’t lie, it was kind of attractive seeing Spencer shut him down like that, but you’d keep that to yourself when you talked about this later.

“Spencer,”

You caught him with the door half open, hand he looked at you with the eyes of a puppy who’d just been praised for spinning in a circle rather than an FBI agent who’d been called his first name by his coworker.

His eyes were big and round and blinking softly at you, his pupils blending into the honey brown of his irises and making his gaze even more puppy dog like.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,”

[sunnie-angel]

i've had this idea for a kind of cracky jason todd x reader hockey au rattling around in my head for close to 10 months now but i don't think i'm ever gonna have the motivation to sit down and write this particular fic, so! here's the outline for what i would have written. honestly if anyone wants to adopt the fic, go for it.

you're the assistant manager of the Gotham Knights, the city's beloved hockey team that hasn't had a shot at the regional championship in years. this year, the impossible's happened: the Knights have made it not only to the championships, but to the top six teams. there's only three games that stand between the Knights and total victory, but the first team you're set to play is notoriously dirty. send opposing team players to the hospital in stretchers regularly kind of dirty.

and so what do you do? well with not only your job but your hometown pride on the line, in a fit of desperation you reach out to famous local crime lord Red Hood. high on caffeine and adrenaline, you ask if he’ll be an alternate goalie (he's already got the right helmet for it) going into the championships because no one in their right mind is going to sabotage a crime lord’s team right in front of him. hell, just with him riding the bench, it might be enough to save your boys from getting the shit beat out of them.

and of course jason isn’t really a big sports fan but he is a son of Gotham so like hell is he gonna let the Knights lose at their one big chance if he can help it. so Red Hood becomes the team’s alternate goalie and yeah, the first few practices are awkward, but because toeing the line of insanity has paid off so far, you tell him that yeah he may be a crime lord that’s there mainly to intimidate the other team but he’s still gotta do practice drills if he wants any ice time during the game.

and when the other team finds out, they throw a fit. their manager tries to get him barred from the game, but Hood’s not a meta, has never actually been prosecuted for a crime, and technically his legal name is last name hood first name red so they can’t make him give up a civilian identity just to play. the publicity around the attempts to bar him only drive more interest surrounding the regional championship and suddenly every single game of the next few matches is sold out. you're keeping your job based on that turn around alone (the Hood jerseys sold out in minutes), but now you're determined to get these guys to win.

jason as red hood accidentally becomes a permanent part of the team after they win the regional championships and then get bumped up to compete for the national championship. you're no longer afraid of him because even if you've never seen his face, you have carried him moaning back from a session with the physio because he's got soo many weird injury issues that are finally getting long term treatment. kinda hard to be afraid of a guy who's just been giggling from pain as the 8-year old knot in their neck finally gets released, you know?

as the Gotham Knights get closer to their first ever national championship title game, jason starts to develop a weirdly good relationship with the rest of the Bats. they may disagree with his methods and ethics but Gotham actually has the chance to win at something so they won’t go after him for now. at least not until he wins them that trophy. and anyways, keeping busy with hockey mean's jason's got less time to be putting heads in duffel bags which really goes a long way to making bruce happy.

along the journey to the championship cup, jason and reader fall in love.

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star - Tape #1 (Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader)

A/N: After being dead on this account for years, like Christ (or bread?), I have risen (I'm not religious). The point is, if you are new to this series, welcome! I am rewriting this series for myself (and anyone still reading after all this time). It is something I want to see through and that I loved re-reading all these years later. The original reception was so warm and lovely, sometimes making me feel guilty for leaving so abruptly. I loved every reblog, comment, tag, and like for this series. I hope that if you're still here, you like the remake. This series DOES contain sensitive matters such as kidnapping, death, torture, sexual themes, and more. If you struggle with this material please know you are not alone and always reach out for help. I will be making a new masterlist once I have more chapters out. Please let me know what you think and enjoy! - Much love, Em <3

Video Killed the Radio Star Remake Masterlist

Link to the Ao3: Video Killed the Radio Star

Next Chapter: Tape #2

WARNING: stalking, mention of kidnapping, blood, cursing, and sensitive material ahead.

Tape Contents: You start recording videos for the BAU once you find out you have a stalker.

Word Count: 2,196

Tape #1- December 29, 20XX

Your face looks a little apprehensive as you move away from the webcam on your computer. Your eyes flick off the screen, leaning forward to read something as if you had planned out a script for yourself. You wave at the camera, offering the lens a weak and shy smile. Your posture slumps for a second, letting out a prolonged sigh. “I,” you frown at the camera, “I’m not good at talking to myself on video, it seems.” 

“I guess bluntness might be a saving grace for both of us,” you whisper as you play with a ring on your middle finger, sliding it up and down your finger, “You know that feeling you get when you’re driving home late at night and you think to yourself, ‘Oh my god. I think that car behind me is following me.’ I think it all started with that.” A hand reaches for your hair, and you timidly move a stray strand away from your eyes. 

“I tried everything I could think of and kept turning randomly, but it was too late. I would rush up to my apartment, and across the street would the same red van every fucking weekend. I tried to get the plate one day as I watched them leave from my window, but no such luck.” You swallow thickly, your voice suddenly full of emotion. 

A sad smile crosses your face as you shake your head, “Fucking dumb, this is so fucking dumb.” you cry softly as tears dance along your lash line. You take a deep breath and push your shoulders back in a desperate attempt to regain your composure. 

You hold up a wilted, purple rose. Loose petals fall as you twist the stem between your thumb and index. “Got this last night, just on my windshield.” You mutter with a tone of disdain. “Don’t even like roses.” you joke lightly as you set the rose on your desk. 

“I’m going to the police tomorrow. I just… thought maybe doing this would make me feel better,” you pause and let out a bitter laugh, leaning toward the camera, “It hasn’t.” 

Then the screen goes black. 

Tape #2- January 3, 20XX. 

Your eyes have bags under them, and you gently rub the bridge between them. “So, got told off by the police.” 

You lean back in your desk chair and shake your head before pointing accusingly at the camera. “Went to the station, brought my stupid fucking rose and everything. They told me they would patrol the area. Of course, what car do I not see across the street anymore? That fucking red van. Guy told me that I was just imagining things.” 

You relax for a second before speaking again, your shoulders squaring defensively. “And! And, the second they leave, guess who is back again. Every single weekend, 7 pm to 11 pm.” You let out a weary sigh and rest an arm on your desk, staring directly into the camera. 

“The Police said they couldn’t even do anything until something boarding physical assault happens.” You trail off with a sideways glance away from the screen. 

“I’m not going to just sit idly by waiting to get assaulted.” You hiss out, leaning forward and stopping the video. 

Tape #3- January 14, 20XX 

You’re playing with the edges of your sweater as you lean back into your chair, rocking slightly. “Got another love present today,” Your voice distant as you pull a Polaroid from the desk, holding it up for the camera to see. 

The Polaroid was of you at the library where you worked. You were sitting in a striped sweater, your hair down. You were smiling at one of the volunteers who works ‘story hour.’ You threw the picture back on the desk with a grimace. 

“No one told me that my sweater that day looked so hideous.” You croak out in a desperate attempt to make yourself laugh in the moment, and for a second, it works. You start with a slight chuckle, but it quickly takes a sharp turn for the worst and becomes a full-on sob. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out before you wipe tears from under your eyes, “I’m just scared. My mom and I talked about it, and she said that maybe it was a ‘secret admirer,’ which… does not make it any better. I feel like everyone thinks I’m fucking crazy.” Your voice raises before you cut yourself off and look down at your sweater again. 

“I’m not,” 

Camera off.

Tape #4- January 17, 20XX

You smile at the camera and scoot a little closer. “Hey,” you say with a gentle sigh of relief, “Great news—I’m organized!”

You lean back and relax in your chair slightly, “So I’m Y/N L/N. I work as a librarian here in Richmond, Virginia. My apartment will be in my records, I’m sure.” You laugh out softly, holding up a photo of a tattoo that seems to reside on your lower collarbone. 

“I didn’t want to flash the camera, so I took the liberty of taking a photo of this lovely tattoo of mine,” you say, glancing at the photo of the line-art floral tattoo next to your face. “If you think this doesn’t seem like me… well, you’re partially right. I was drunk in Vegas for my twenty-first birthday, and then I woke up missing a good chunk of money and a tattoo.” You shrug as you slowly set the photo on your desk. 

“I’m not trying to freak anyone out if they do see this. I just…” you pause, releasing a slow and controlling breath, “I want to be found if I do go missing. I want to be easily identified if I’m not alive. I want people to know I was a person and not just a body, you know?” You let your lips grow into a weak smile, nodding slightly, seeming to agree with yourself. 

“I’m making these to help myself, to feel like I have more control. The presents stopped recently, but they’re still watching me every weekend. It feels like it's about to get worse. I can’t explain it. I’m not trying to make the police feel bad. I just… don’t like going down without a fight.” 

“Speaking of not going down without a fight,” You reach over to grab a photo and proudly turn it over to the camera. “You know who this is?” You ask your silent audience. “This is the lovely Jennifer Jareau.” You answer with a weak smile, feeling strange as you talk with yourself. 

“I decided to beg the police to email this video folder to her. Currently, just the police have this, as I’m annoying and persistent but also very charming. That’s a lie. My coworker's boyfriend’s friend works at the station. Hopefully,” You swallow gently as the photo slips away from your fingers. “Hopefully, they won’t have to send it to her and the BAU team, but in the unfortunate case, she does see this.” You smile, wave a little, mouth a soft ‘hello,’ and lean forward—screen black. 

Tape #5- February 10, 20XX

You’re wearing a red, pink, and white striped sweater with a white headband pushing your hair back as the camera focuses again on you. “Happy Early Valentine’s Day to everyone who got a gift from their stalker on the top of their car today,” you say with mock happiness before your smile falls, and you hold up a copy of Wuthering Heights. 

You flip through the pages before stopping on one and facing it toward the camera, trying to get it to focus, but you quickly find the task irritating. You groan and decide to read the line, “Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad.”

“That's one of the lines circled, underlined, and highlighted…” You say, flipping through more pages slowly. 

“The only scenes highlighted seem to involve Heathcliff and Catherine, which are romantic scenes, of course, but just that one quote is emphasized.”  You say, shaking your head, and you laugh a little, setting the book somewhere outside the frame. 

“What a shitty gift, I already have a copy.” You joke before the screen turns black. 

Tape #6- February 14, 20XX

Your face is flush red, eyes swollen and raw from crying as you sit in front of the camera, speechless for a short amount of time. You look positively catatonic for a second, unmoving. The sound of you raking in a shaking breath scares you as you bring yourself to speak. Your face doesn’t match your attire, as you sport a sweater with a giant pink heart in the center and small heart-shaped earrings hanging from your ears. 

“They were in here,” your voice is soft and hoarse. “They were in here, everywhere. They left roses everywhere. They were in here! They got into my apartment and left dozens of rose petals on my bed, floors, couch, and kitchen table!” Your voice raises in volume as you cut yourself off, a small tear rolling down your cheek. 

“Something isn’t right,” You were shaking your head and letting out fast breaths, on the verge of hyperventilating. “This is all getting so,” you raise your hands to run through your curls, pulling gently. “I need you to find me. I’m doing so much already. I went to the police station, and they searched everything: cameras, streets, but there was nothing! Just petals!” You yell softly, voice rasping softly at the end of your outburst. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” you mumble softly, tears filling your eyes. 

Tape #7- February 17, 20XX

You smile awkwardly at the camera and hold up Jane Eyre, opening it to a dog-eared page. “You are my sympathy --my better self --my good angel.” You read off the quote softly with a light sigh at the end of your reading. 

“Seems like we have a Brontë fan in our midst,” you try to be light-hearted as you set the book to the side. 

“I wrote down all my passwords, but it's not like you’ll need them. Nonetheless, you can never be too safe.” You quip the sentence in a soft voice. 

“I’m trying my hardest not to do anything crazy. I just, nevermind.” You say, annoyance thick in your voice as you shut the camera off quickly. 

Tape #8- March 2, 20XX

A terrible gnawing was growing in your stomach. Your hands clutched your waist gently as you leaned back in your chair. You felt like you might be sick as you stared off-camera toward your newest ‘gift.’ Your throat felt taut as you swallowed, a shaky sigh coming from your lips as your pale face looked at the camera. 

“I’m scared this might be my last video,” you say, your voice hoarse and tense, “It all just suddenly stopped. There was no more red van, no more gifts—nothing to write home about, but today,” 

You lean over to pull a pair of white, blood-soaked panties from a plastic bag into the frame. “These were on my door knob today when I got home. I tried not to touch it. I put it in this bag to ensure I didn’t contaminate it more. It doesn’t look like blood blood, more like period blood.” As you throw the bag back to your desk, your voice edges into an emotional tone, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

 “I think that they’re mine,” You cried softly, shaking slightly as you tried to control your breathing, “Th-the panties, not the blood. I haven’t, those can’t be from my period. Mine hasn’t come y-”

“I’m not going to be okay. I was stupid to think I might be, but I’m not!” You cry into your hands, and your shoulders shake as you let out a weak sob. “Please find me if I go missing. Please,” Tears fall on your cheeks as you lean toward the computer. 

“I need you to find me.” 

March 5, 20XX. 

A clicker is in J.J.’s hand as she turns off the videos. “Richmond PD sent this over this morning when twenty-eight-year-old Y/N L/N didn’t show up to her job,” She hands out folders as she speaks, “Her coworker called her mother to see if she had gone out of town when she said no. Y/N’s coworker’s boyfriend called a cop friend to check her apartment and found no trace of her or anyone else in her apartment. They sent this video folder over the second he called it in.” 

Spencer was frowning as he flipped through the pages of your file, hating the idea that you knew. He knew that dread, that feeling when something bad was about to happen to you. That innate and raw feeling that pushes through a person like a wave. He opens his mouth to say something, but Hotch is already speaking before he can get the chance to. 

“We leave here in ten,” He says before leaving the room, cutting everyone’s comments short in one small miraculous moment. 

Within ten minutes, the team finds themselves away from their jet, stuffed into groups in black SUVs, barreling toward Richmond. 

[hannieehaee]

Hi :) can you please make a svt reaction about their gf receiving tons of love confessions on a daily basis ? <3

you receiving love confessions from other people

content: established relationship, some jealousy is involved, gender neutral reader, etc.

wc: 1011

a/n: hiii thank u for requesting i loved this concept hehe <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he wouldnt want to show it, but he'd become a little territorial whenever you told him about yet another person inquiring about your relationship status. although he would be confident in your relationship, he would still feel annoyed at knowing so many people thought they even had a chance with you. his jealousy would only manifest in pouts and whines in complaint, but he would sometimes get sulky about it for a while.

jeonghan -

would somehow tease you about it. would also laugh at the mere idea of anyone else thinking they could ever have a chance with you. he'd be wayyy overconfident about how much you liked him (with good reason), so he would constantly bring up how obsessed with him you must be to constantly turn a blind eye to every single one of your suitors in favor of being with him instead.

joshua -

mostly amused. he knew from the moment he met you that you must get a lot of attention (i mean, you did get his undivided attention upon the first glance), so he wouldnt be surprised if that was still the case even while you were in a relationship with him. he wouldnt see any harm in it, simply chuckling in amusement whenever someone would attempt to get with you, knowing you were already happily spoken for.

jun -

he understood why it happened, he just wasnt a fan. he's not a jealous guy, but he also doesnt enjoy watching people try and flirt with you any time he's away from your side for more than five seconds. he'd express his discomfort to you in the form of whines and pouts, choosing to stick to you like glue in order to prevent people believing you werent spoken for. he'd ask you to never let him know if people hit on you while he wasnt around. he'd know it happened, but he'd choose to live in denial.

soonyoung -

idk how to explain this properly but he would get so touchy and clingy if he ever sensed anyone showing any type of non-platonic interest towards you. he's not possessive per say, but he would get sulky if he sensed anyone even thinking of you in a way that was anything more than friendly. knowing you got confessions on a daily basis would have him attached to your hip 24/7 to 'subtly' let people know you were taken.

wonwoo -

wouldn't really think much of it. he's always been a bit of a heartthrob himself (i mean, he was known around his neighborhood for being handsome ..), so he would shrug off the constant attention you got in the same way he shrugged off the attention he's always gotten. he would feel some pride at knowing how strong your feelings were for one another to never consider even looking at anyone else.

jihoon -

if you told him you had gotten a few confessions here and there, he would shrug it off and reason it was only to be expected since you were such a catch. however, if he were ever to actually see someone confess or hit on you while he was present, he would scoff and get immediately frustrated at the sight. he's a lowkey guy, so he wouldnt cause a scene or anything, but his jealousy would easily begin to show. he'd need reassurance from you to go back to his calm self, but would now become touchier as if to show dominance.

seokmin -

he would be one of the many people sending you love confessions on the daily. ok, not really (since he already had you all to himself), but he knew how gorgeous and likable you were, so he couldnt bring himself to blame anyone who showed interest in you. would even relish in knowing other people saw all the charms you had to offer.

mingyu -

too busy warding off all the love confessions heading his way to even realize you were kind of in the same boat. he's wanted by everyone (re: that video from nana tour where the lady literally stops in her tracks to check him out) and he gets attention constantly (re: the million times in which random ppl in nana tour struck convo with him), so be assured that this man understands the struggle and would absolutely not pay it any mind.

minghao -

would find it amusing how other people thought you'd ever even give them the time of day when you had him. he was extremely secure of your relationship, so be would never feel threatened at you having many options for a partner. he'd even feel a bit cocky knowing he was the one and only person you wanted.

seungkwan -

a little bit peeved by it. not jealous or anything like that (he's super confident in your relationship), but more so annoyed that other people would dare look past your boyfriend (him; boo seungkwan; vocalist of boy group seventeen), and still try and shoot their shot. would straight up mock anyone who dared even consider trying to express their interest towards you (behind their backs, but still!).

vernon -

you got another person stopping you in the street to ask for your number? cool. he wouldnt really mind it. i mean, he knows you're hot and funny and likable and basically possess every good quality in the world, so why should he be surprised that other people are aware of that too? would be completely chill about it and even ask you to keep him updated on any instance in which someone tried to hit on you (for entertainment reasons, of course).

chan -

maybe a teeny tiny bit jealous at seeing the fourth person today try and charm your number out of you (despite chan being right there!!). he knew you were an absolute catch, but it still threw him off a bit whenever other people would acknowledge that fact. would need a bit of reassurance from you to feel less bugged by it and would eventually even make the whole thing into an inside joke between the two of you.

[prentissluvr]

you'd dance with me? — sam winchester

for : 200+ followers event [ closed ] ➖⟢ pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : fluff, light angst ➖⟢ cw : reader gets sort of stood up, alcohol, reader is tipsy, swearing, (not) unrequited love, barely edited ➖⟢ wc : 1.4K prompt : telling them they deserve better (and silently wanting to be the one who gives it to them)

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the man from the bar, james, isn’t your exact type. no one is except for sam, because you’re irrevocably in love with him. but since you can’t have him, and you’re dying to have a fun night without every second being consumed by thoughts of him, how much you love him, and how much you’re sure he doesn’t love you back, you turn to flirting with the nearest handsome single man.

and that means james. james has been nice enough and asked you to call him jamie, because “that’s what his friends call him.” dean gave you an impressed look as you walked past with “jamie” on your arm, and you winked at him, feeling playful and hopeful for a fun night after a tiring hunt. dean grinned back and sam barely gave any indication he noticed you before you settled at the bar and launched into a decently boring conversation with james about his corporate job and the fake life that you spin up for him.

that was over half an hour ago and it’s been at least twenty minutes since james excused himself to the bathroom with the promise that he’d be right back. you know he’s not coming back, but you stay rooted to your seat anyway.

it takes a few more minutes before sam appears, taking the previous man’s spot by your side.

“he left, didn’t he?” you ask, forlorn and not even bothering to look at sam as he settles next to you. sam cringes and nods. you sigh, not having to turn your head to see the movement through the corner of your eye as he confirms your suspicions. sam wonders if he should tell you that the asshole left with someone else. you deserve to know, but he’s hyperaware that it’ll only add to the sting. 

he takes in the look on your face and the empty shot glass that you fiddle with, and he immediately knows that you’re much more upset by this than you normally would be. of course, the situation is completely shitty, for anyone, but on any other day, you’d probably brush it off by looking for someone better or heading back to sit with him and dean for some fun with them (if dean’s still around by then). today, you’re alone and at least an extra shot or two in since the guy left, likely making you more tipsy than you intended to get tonight. more than that, the frown on your lips is easy to see and read, far different from the smile you normally give him when you’re pretending not to care. tonight you don't attempt hide it.

“you okay?” he finally asks. you sigh again and surprise him a bit by dropping your head on his shoulder. this kind of touch between the two of you isn’t abnormal, but these days it feels like you’re avoiding it a little, which sort of kills him. it takes you a moment to answer, but when you do, sam’s heart clenches.

“i just wanted to dance with someone tonight.” your voice is sad and candid from the removal of your filter by the alcohol in your system. for a moment, sam is blindingly angry with the asshole that stood you up, and he has to hold back a vehement curse before recentering his focus on you and the sad pull between your eyebrows. he just clenches his jaw and lets you say what you need to before he lets any of the million things he wants to tell you fall from his lips. “he said he’d dance with me when he got back… then he didn’t come back. d’you think it’s stupid i wanted to dance? think that’s why he left?” 

now sam’s heart is plain-old breaking for you. he wants to ring the neck of the stupid man that made you question yourself like this, made your voice sound so dejected. then he wants to sweep you up in his arms and hold you close and kiss your forehead and tell you that it’s the sweetest, most endearing thing in the world that you want to dance. tell you that he’ll dance with you every night despite the fact that he can’t do much more than hold you and sway with you. tell you that he’s completely and enduringly in love with you. he discovered that recently, though he figures it’s been true for a long while now.

he has to settle for something a little more tame because you’re upset over another guy, because you're a little tipsy, and because he can’t lose your friendships if those words don’t come across well.

sam puts his arm around your shoulders and you sink further into him. “if that’s why he left, he’s an idiot. anyone in their right mind would trip over their own feet to dance with you. no one in their right mind would leave you– someone like you, sitting here alone,” he says your name so soft and loving that he thinks he’s given himself away until he remembers you’re not picking up on everything right now, “he didn’t deserve you. you deserve a whole lot better than that ass.” i’d be so good to you, he thinks.

“yeah,” you agree, still sounding a little despondent.

“if you– if you still wanna dance, you’ve got a willing partner,” sam forges ahead, anything to make you smile.

“mm, where? james probably left with someone else, for all i know.” he doesn’t like that man’s name on your lips, and maybe you’re a little more drunk than he thought, because you’re not getting the hint as quickly as you normally would. if you were sober and trying not to act upset, you’d say that all with a playful tone to your voice to tease him for offering. right now, you just sound sort of unbelieving.

“you know,” sam responds, keeping his voice just as serious as yours instead of matching that tease like he normally would.

this time you let a bit of humor slip into your voice, but it’s still sort of pessimistic, “what? are you gonna drag dean away from whatever girl he’s found just to cheer up my sorry ass?” sam has to laugh a little at that thought, because it’s a silly image and almost funny how you refuse to see him as an option.

“your ass isn’t sorry,” sam smiles all soft when that pulls a half-hearted snort from you. his voice is still gentle as he finally says, “i’m right here, you know.”

when you tilt your head up to look at his face, and finally, finally, he gets your eyes on his, he almost melts to the floor. you’re looking at him, sweet and soft with your eyebrows pinched together like you’re not sure if he meant it. then there’s that little hint of hope and joy swimming around in the pretty pools of your eyes and it sets his heart afire, just like that. you’ve done just about nothing special, but to him you’ve done everything.

“you’d wanna dance with me?” you say it like you can’t believe it, like that’s exactly what you’d really been hoping for all night and it takes everything in sam’s power not to swoop down and kiss you right then and there. he’d wanna do a whole lot more than dance with you, but it’s a wonderful, glorious, honey-sweet way to start, he thinks.

“of course,” he grins at you, and that’s all it takes to pull a big smile over your features too. that’s just about everything sam could ever ask for, and it brings a flood of relief over him. he just can’t help himself when he asks, “that is, if you’d want to dance with me? i’m sure i’m not your ideal dancing partner for the night, but hopefully i’ll do.”

“of course i want to dance with you, sam,” you say, so blatantly honest that it makes his heart hurt, “and that’s not true.” you won’t explain what you mean by that, so sam stands with you and gladly lets you use him for balance. it’s not true that he’s not your ideal dancing partner? is that what you meant? he certainly hopes so, because that must mean, by default, he is your ideal dancing partner, and you wanted to dance with him tonight, not this awful james.

maybe you love him back a little, he hopes, as your wrap your arms around his middle and let him sway you back and forth, all gentle and smiling.

[chukys-mouthguard]

#21 fluff for Matt Rempe please :)

Prompt: “You’re the only one I have opened up to like this.”

“Did it hurt?”

You hand hesitantly moving to touch the black and blue mark that had found its place on Matt’s eye, trying not to inflict any more pain on him.

“When I fell from heaven? Nah, it wasn’t too hard of a fall.”

Rolling your eyes at him, he couldn’t help but laugh. His humor the one thing you could always count on, no matter the situation.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious.”

“Well I sure think so!”

The two of you sat in Matt’s apartment as you’d put in your doctor cap and attempted to help his newly acquired battle scars from yet another fight. To be honest you didn’t know how he was still actively participating in the fights. His face surely couldn’t take another punch after 3 fights in a row.

“I mean, sure it hurts. It definitely doesn’t feel good. But, I kind of signed up for this you know?”

Walking the first aid kit back to the bathroom, you’d someone scoffed at his words. “Mmm, signed up for that? I disagree. I don’t know if anyone signs up for that.”

While he understood what you meant, he disagreed. Matt always knew he wasn’t going to be the next Crosby or Ovechkin. And because of that, he had to excel in other areas.

He sighed as you rejoined him on the couch, his demeanor now changing as he seemed exhausted. His body finally waving the white flag that it needed a break.

“I just, I love hockey. So much. And, I know that I’m not the greatest skater, I’m not scoring 80 goals a season, hell I probably won’t even play 80 minutes a season. But I know that I can support the guys who can do those things. And maybe that’s through fighting. Sure, I don’t necessarily love getting my face bashed in. But I’m willing to get punched in the face, if that means getting to put on that jersey and play in a place like Madison Square Garden.”

The emotion in his voice almost bringing you to tears, you knew how much he loved the sport. But hearing him talk about it like this, hearing him be vulnerable and not the joking goof ball he normally was. It was refreshing. For him to just be Matt Rempe, a normal 21 year old guy who is working his butt off to make a name for himself.

“I love that, every single thing you said. And I wish more people got to see this side of you. Because this I’m sure is more meaningful to people. Your love and passion for the sport, I’m sure your teammates would love to hear you talk like this too.”

He shyly laughed as he tried to climb off his sappy soapbox.

“You’re the only one I’ve opened up to like this.”

His fingers intertwined with yours as he leaned in to give you a kiss. A thank you for being by his side and supporting him through it all. And for putting up with him on days he looked like he’d been in a horrific bar fight.

“Well, I’m honored that you opened up to me. Now, let’s get you into bed, I have a feeling someone is definitely sleeping in tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, please don’t wake me until at least 7pm.”

[ifyoucandaniel]

I want to thank you for making your list of recommended long batfam fics. I have been making my way through it and I am really enjoying them! ESPECIALLY cards on the table (I also love Dark Matter but I had already read it). Please let us know if you ever get more long batfam fic recs 🥺

okay so ive been waiting to answer this until i had gathered a good chunk of new long fics and ive been getting a lot of similar messages asking for recommendations, so here is another list of my fav long batman fics!

Jason and the Three Terrors by @cdelphiki, 220k, ongoing, T. if i can get you to read one thing, let it be this. ohhh my god where to even begin, this is a fic where jason stays with the league after his dip in the lazarus pit for a little while and winds up being charged with getting damian, his cousin, and his sister out of the league safely. this fic is just so fucking good, cdelphiki always writes such seamless relationship growth and watching jason go from "im dropping these brats off first chance i get" to "im a single mother of three and i need to provide for my kids" is phenomenal. 1000/10, the writing, the kids, the relationships, please do yourself a favor and read this.

A Collision of Masks by Movaz, 169k, completed, T. !! guys. this is such a good dick grayson-centric fic. this is set in an AU where batman never joined the justice league so the justice league knows very little about batman inc. and consequently dick never joins YJ so the YJ team is tasked with checking out a new hero called nightwing in bludhaven and police officer grayson is tasked with helping the team in their investigation :) really good fic exploring dick juggling all his identities and finally gaining people he can rely on! i actually did a bind of it so you know i love this story so much

Life Happens by @cdelphiki, 176k, complete, G. ok so this fic is probably one of the most beautiful stories of growth and love i've read. its about tim and damian being transported from their world into ours where they're only comic book characters and they start to build a life for themselves here. cdelphiki is one of the most amazing authors, im currently going through all of their works, but this one has just stayed with me and i dont think anyone should pass it up. watching tim and damian grow together and seeing damian have a real childhood and just the whole concept of life happening wether you want it to or not is so beautifully done. cannot recommend enough.

Honoring Promises by LananiA3O, completed, 14k, T. okay this isnt actually a long fic, but its one of my favorite fics ever and i need it on this list. if you're like me and you love UTRH aus where instead of sticking around as red hood after bruce threw a batarang at his throat jason fucks off and disappears to live a normal life, this is for you. from dick's pov, he realizes jasons last letter was a last attempt at reaching out and stalks him until he finds out what really happened to his little brother. i think about this every day and wish it was 10000 words long

The Time Before by @cdelphiki, 80k, completed, G. at this point this is basically just a cdelphiki fic rec lmao when i said everything by them was good, i meant that shit. this is a fic where jason is sent back into time when he was 9 years old but still has all his memories from the future. he goes to bruce for help despite wanting to do literally anything else and is surprised to realize maybe everything isn't how he remembers it 10 years in the future and maybe theres a chance he can go home when hes older again. once again cdelphiki hitting me in the feels with this one, really amazing study on how time and pain can change how you perceive and remember things and also just forgiveness and fixing mistakes and accepting mistakes were made. very good, highly recommend

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by Sophene, 80k, completed, batlantern, T. I have no excuse for this, this is such a fun and funny fic i love it so much. basically HOA president single dad bruce with his 10 million adopted kids and then hal jordan moves in next door and plays his music too loud at 10pm on a school night and throws parties and bruce has a stick up his ass about it. i really really love the shift in hal when kyle comes to live with him as his ward (? i cant actually remember if hes adopted or just a ward) and seeing him finally understand why bruce acts the way he does when it comes to his kids. also seeing bruce just being a tired dad 90% of the fic when he isnt glaring at hal is so good.

Option C by CasualGeek, 78k, completed, T. this has, in my opinion, a very unique and interesting premise. basically, what if instead of becoming red hood, jason comes back to gotham and manages to get Joker put on trial for the murder of sheila haywood and get the insanity plea thrown out. really interesting approach to batman and joker and jason technically doing things through the legal justice system and what that means for him and the people around him. very good, read it all in one sitting

butcherbird, fly away home by e_va, 41k, completed, M. lost days jason todd loml! basically what if when jason was off on his world tour one of his tutors kidnapped bruce wayne and jason has feelings about it against his will. "what if lost days jason was stuck in the same room as a sick bruce for more than 10 minutes and actually had to talk to him without punching him" AU and i throughly enjoyed it. @darlingatlas recommended this one and she never misses with the jason recs

this kind of weather by r_astra, 55k, completed, T. this is the fic something in the static was originally inspired by and if you know me, i love that series, and i love this fic too. another what if jasons mom didnt die until later and social services gets involved before he can bolt and bruce seeks him out with some very interesting news. i love fics that display jason’s relationship with crime alley and him being one of them. very good, i love jason so much

ok now these aren't actually long fics but i need to get them out here because i love them so much and highly recommend!

To My Brother by a_silly_gander, 7k, completed, T. Lost days jason au where he starts sending post cards from his travels to dick on a whim while we follow his time away and the people he meets. i love this one so much, please read it if you love jason and dick, its so special to me.

Enhanced Fashion Sense is a Perk of Being a Cat by 12pt_timesnewromanfont, 23k, complete, G. selina breaks into drake manor to steal a cat artifact and accidentally meets the drakes ten year old son they left home alone. then she starts keeping tabs on him and eventually adopts him and makes him stray. i really love selina finding tim before bruce and taking care of him <3 10/10 i wish selina would adopt me

[vanillarosekiss]

To the beautiful person who left me this anon ask:

hi ria! I know you normally write femreader as girly or with a more feminine energy. But wdyt of John Price whose s/o is self conscious because she’s not as girly as the ladies who undoubtedly always surround him and maybe have made her he can do better than her ((totally not projecting lolz))

i’m so sorry i accidentally deleted your ask, but luckily I managed to copy it before! I really hope this finds you angel..♡

warnings: self depreciation, afab!reader x John Price, this one’s actually kinda sad guys sorry (happy ending though, i promise!!).

John Price had always been the kind of man who carried himself with a quiet confidence, commanding respect in every room he walked into. It wasn’t just his rugged good looks or the way he carried the weight of his responsibilities with ease — it was his unwavering calm, the type of presence that made you feel like the world could crumble, but he’d hold it together for you. He’d do anything for you.

You didn’t feel like you belonged in his orbit. You didn’t even feel like you belonged in the same room.

Not when he could have his pick of anyone. And not when the effortlessly gorgeous women you saw at his work functions or in photographs seemed to orbit him naturally.

They didn’t mean to make you feel small of course, but sometimes, they didn’t need to. Backhanded comments like, “Oh, she’s not quite what I expected for John,” or those lingering glances they shared when they thought you weren’t looking, planted seeds of doubt that grew roots in your chest. It hurt you more than you liked to admit.

You weren’t as polished, as composed, as these women. It wasn’t that you didn’t try… no, you just didn’t feel like you when you did. Dresses made you feel exposed. Heels left your feet aching. Even makeup was a practice you rarely indulged in because it didn’t feel worth the time or effort considering the little time you actually spent out.

And yet, John had still chosen you.

You were sitting on the couch with your knees pulled up, thumbing through your phone absentmindedly when John walked in. His heavy boots on the hardwood floor were a sound you’d grown to love, a comfort of such.

“Alright, love?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded quickly, plastering on a smile. “Yeah, fine.”

But John was too observant for his own good. He was extremely perceptive, his time in the force had made him a great reader of expressions. He tilted his head, scanning your face as he set his keys on the counter.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his tone laced with doubt.

You looked away, shrugging. “Just tired, s’all.”

“Not buying it.” He waited intently on your reply.

You hesitated. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Darlin’.” That single word was a command. You knew he was being serious.

You sighed, your voice wavering, threatening to crack despite your attempt to sound indifferent. “Do you ever… I dunno. Do you ever wish I were more like the women you’re surrounded by?”

His brow furrowed. “What women?”

“The ones at those events,” you muttered, gesturing vaguely. “They’re all so put together, and I’m-” You laughed bitterly. “Not.”

John leaned back slightly, his hand finding your thigh and gently resting there. He regarded you for a long moment, his eyes steady. “Who’s been telling you all this?”

“No one,” you said quickly. “I just… I feel like they’re right sometimes. You could do better than me.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, but not uncomfortable. John’s grip on your thigh tightened slightly before he pulled you into his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“Do you know why I chose you?” he asked quietly.

Your throat tightened painfully. “Because I was there?”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Because you’re real. Because you’re you. Because I don’t need anything like those women you were talking about, don’t want them, either.”

“But- ”

“No ‘buts’.” His tone was firm now, the kind that silenced any argument before it began. “I don’t care about anyone else. Those women you’re talkin��� about? All worthless, the lot of ‘em.”

You felt the unavoidable prick of tears in your eyes. “You really mean that?”

John turned slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You think I’d lie to you about something like that?” He kissed your lips gently, lingering there for a while.

“You’re enough for me, angel. More than enough.”

For the first time in what felt like months, you finally believed him.

I really hope this finds the right person. What a gorgeous request! Give me sweet John Price immediately. ˖⋆࿐໋

[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

Chapter two: low expectations.

taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne

A/N: sorry for the late update, but imma catch you guys up 🫡

previous chapter | next chapter

Over the next few days you manage to get your pre-reading all done and dusted.

You can’t help but already feel exhausted by the amount of things that you have to juggle at university.

Just as soon as you were completed with one task, you groaned at the thought of your long list of remaining errands. Bills, assignments, grocery shopping and your shifts at the cafe were all piled on top of you constantly, not to mention your attempt to attend your lectures and classes, double checking that they were the right ones.

But the most stressful by far was trying to avoid your mother’s calls, which occurs at least twice a day. As of recently, you had thought that you were safe, coming up with excuses left, right and center.

At least that was before you had seen a missed call from your dad this morning.

That’s how you know that you’re really in the shits.

You’re gonna have to come up with something. And in quick timing.

But for now, you’re going to have to sideline your personal dilemmas.

With your new job at the cafe, you have no choice but to remain consistent with your routine, that is of course, if you want your new job to last.

After weeks of rejection or rather, the lack of replies, you had managed to secure a job at your roommate’s favorite cafe spot.

And by secure you mean that you had sort of lied about having experience in a cafe previously.

You didn’t entirely lie…just exaggerated the truth a little bit.

This was one of the only jobs that had replied to you out of a whole stockpile and you weren’t going to let it go to waste. Not under any circumstances.

You did have the experience of watching and observing what your classmate did at her family owned cafe whilst you were on the till for a few minutes.

But nonetheless, what’s so hard about making coffee? Anyone can do this shit. It’s okay if you’re learning on the job, doesn’t everyone? Currently, you succeed in trying to rotate between keeping track of orders and making drinks as well as trying not to get in MJ’s way too much.

But you were handling it to the best of your abilities. Even if that did mean messing up a few of your customers' orders every once in a while. MJ had said nothing about it so far which means that you're in the green light.

For now.

“You really should be getting some sleep, don’t let your first year knock you out before midterms.” She acknowledges, elbowing you slightly.

“I kno–” you barely finish your sentence, another yawn coming out of nowhere.

“See?” She hums, finishing off an order for the previous customer. “You need some beauty sleep.”

She’s referring to your bruised under eye bags that have started to appear. Ultimately, the results of you staying up till midnight yesterday to finish off an assignment. You had only managed to get a few hours of sleep before waking up in time for your 6am shift.

“I also need money, but we can’t have it all can we MJ?” you note, keeping your tone light before you move on to serve another customer.

You’ve only been on shift for a couple of hours but you think you’re coping well so far. MJ forewarned you about the morning lecture rush hour. You guessed that it was soon by glancing at the old clock hung up on the wall, indicating that it was just after 8:30 am. Students continued to spill in and out of the cafe, the bell above the front door continuously ringing in your ears.

A small line had begun to queue up and you swiftly moved through them with ease. As your next customer came up to the counter, your face lit up at the sight of a familiar face.

“Oh hey stranger–” you begin, recognising the same grueling face that you had seen last week bore into you. But you barely get a chance to finish your sentences before he cuts you off sharply.

“Coffee. Black.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ as you tap his order into the machine, immediately sensing his disgruntled aura. By the expression on his face, you can tell that he doesn’t seem up for teasing.

He seems…frustrated? Or maybe even upset?

“Name?”

“Miguel.”

You can’t tell whether he’s cranky because it’s 8am in the morning or rather that you failed to notice this the last time you saw him. Either way, it makes you a little dazed. Perhaps he wasn’t a morning person. You understood that because you were the complete same. Taking his name, you brush him off instead hoping that your coffee will cheer him up.

You inform him of the price and he swipes his card without a second glance. He leaves to take a seat in one of the corners of the cafe which just so happens to be the only part of the cafe that wasn’t so overwhelmed with customers.

It’s not long before you head over there yourself with his order.

“Here’s your black coffee.” you say, setting it down in front of him. Hastily, you’re about to run off to prepare your next order before his words stop you.

“I ordered a black coffee. Not a latte.”

You turn around abruptly, realizing your full mistake. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”

“Are you new here or just incapable of making a simple cup of black coffee?” Miguel interrupts, his tone laced with vexation.

“Who do you think you’re–”

Your outrage comes to a halt by the sound of your name being called by MJ. You glance over your shoulder and notice her point towards an ever growing queue of customers. Shit, you don’t have time to cuss him out.

Taking a deep breath, you make the decision to be the bigger person, after all it’s like what your manager Steve said…

‘ The customer is always right.’

“I’ll bring it over for you, m’sorry.” you apologize again, rubbing at your forehead, suddenly overwhelmed with the pressure. With sweat beading at your brows, you look over to see a small queue beginning in front of the till again.

MJ throws you a hurried glance, a look which you know means ‘hurry the fuck up and make these orders.’

You end up taking longer than five minutes to return back to him, run ragged with the new orders of coffees, teas, lattes, macchiatos and hot chocolates that continue to pile up.

“Here you go, sorry about that.” You place his new and correct drink in front of him.

“No worries.”

You’re almost taken aback by his response. First he snaps at you and now he’s telling you not to worry about it? God, he was so confusing.

“Enjoy.”

You think that you hear a mutter of ‘thanks’ leave his mouth but you don’t turn back to hear his words clearly. Yet… you can’t exactly keep away.

For some reason your brain keeps lingering towards a burning question which has rattled your mind all through the past week. Giving in to your temptations, you end up turning around and prompt Miguel with another question.

“How did you know ‘Pride and Prejudice’ was set in the 19th century?”

“Huh?” He glances up from his phone, his thumb paused in his mindless scrolling.

“Last time, when I saw you in the library. You knew it was set in the 19th century.”

“I didn’t.'' Miguel huffs, and your eyes can help but notice the size of his biceps. You estimate that they’re bigger than your fucking hands. “It was an estimated guess.”

“Really? You don’t seem too-”

“Listen.” Miguel quips, his sharp tone suddenly returning, causing your voice to trail off midway through your sentence. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as he speaks. “I’m going to try and say this in the nicest way possible, but I’m really not in the mood for some crap about your literature degree, okay? I really couldn’t care less.”

Ouch.

Your expression drops and you’re immediately aware of the distance between the two of you.

He’s right. You barely know him. He’s just a guy who just so happened to be there at one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. “Right, sorry.”

You’re about to leave his table before he stops you…again.

“Y’know I ought to tell your manager that you messed up my order.” Miguel begins, continuing to scroll on his phone, not bothering to even look up at you. “This is a very reputable cafe and if you start slacking on the job then…”

“Then what?” You question. “Are you trying to threaten me with a bad review?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say threaten is the right word but…now that you say that perhaps I should write one.”

Your stomach drops at his words. “Oh, you fucking wouldn’t.”

He smirks, still peering down at his phone. “Maybe I would.”

“Bet.”

“Don’t start betting on things that you’ll end up regretting, nena.”

Your brow raises at his phrase which you don’t entirely understand but you really don’t have time to question it. Your patience is running out as well as your time to get back on track with the orders.

As you walk away from his table, his words seem to settle into your skin.

He wouldn’t? Would he? No… he hasn’t got the balls to. What kind of person has that amount of free time on their hands to write a bad review? At least he had gotten his coffee in the end, you were in your right mind not to spill it all over him on purpose.

“He’s a dick, he’s a dick, he’s a total dick.” You mutter under your breath, making your way back to your station. But you should’ve guessed that from your conversation with him in the library, recalling his mocking tone of your embarrassment.

You should’ve kept your expectations low if you ever thought that you were going to be friends with him.

“What did you say?” MJ queries, hearing your mumbles as you join her.

You nod towards Miguel, still sitting in the far corner scrolling mindlessly on his phone.

“He’s an evil, brooding…” You fail to think of an appropriate ending.

“Dick?” MJ ends.

“Correct.” you say. You promise to yourself that from this moment onwards you are refraining from looking over at that corner.

You find that time passes quickly during your shift and once the rush hour of students finally dies down, you and MJ get the chance to finally take a break.

“Fucking hell, I never want to do that again.” She murmurs wiping down the surfaces near the coffee machines for any spilt substances.

“Ditto that.” you murmur, grabbing a cloth to wipe down some empty tables.

Learning that MJ was a performing arts student made you more than happy to get along well with her. She was in her second year, yet in a sea of sickening STEM students here you had real proof that you weren’t the only humanities student.

Take that Miguel.

/

Currently eating dinner alone in your apartment, you reminisce on your day in silence, your roommate out at her weekly computer coding club. You think that it was safe to say that it was a good day today, despite all the stresses at work.

Speaking of work, you recall the conversation from this morning.

You don’t want to give this Miguel guy too much credit but you’d be lying if you said that his threat earlier didn’t scare the shit out of you for the remainder of your day.

Even MJ had to ask if you were alright when it got to the end of your shift and you had brushed it off, blaming it on your exhaustion.

He was totally bluffing….right? I mean, he doesn’t even know you.

You bite down on your metallic fork, anxiety rapidly filling you within.

No, you can’t help it. You have to check.

Chewing on your fingernails, you type in the name of the cafe that you work out and head over to the reviews section on Google.

Scrolling down to find the latest reviews, your stomach practically drops at one comment, under the simple username of: @miguelohara20.

‘New barista lacked the ability to do her job. Couldn’t pay attention to even get my order right. Talks way too much unprovoked, to the point where you might as well save some money and make the damn coffee yourself.’

The fucking nerve of this guy causes so much anger within you that your fork practically falls from your other hand as you immediately go to text MJ. You send her a screenshot before typing with fury.

- ‘Did you see this? This was that guy that I was complaining about earlier: the rude, evil, brooding STEM one.’

Sent: 7:34pm

It’s not long before you receive a reply from MJ and it’s one that makes your stomach drop.

- ‘Yeah I did :/ Steve texted me about it actually.

Received: 7:36pm

MJ sends through another text, a few seconds later.

- ‘He wants a meeting with you on ‘customer etiquette’ !!

Received 7:36pm

Dropping your phone on the table, you let out a groan, holding your head in your hands. Now, this day went from ‘good’ to being the second worst day of your life, now with your job on the line.

Yeah…you think you fucking hate Miguel now.

reblogs are much appreciated!

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[sammyluvr]

you’d dance with me? — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, light angst, reader gets sort of stood up, alcohol, reader is tipsy, swearing, (not) unrequited love, barely edited, 1.4K words. requested ! for my 200+ followers event [ closed ]

prompt : telling them they deserve better (and silently wanting to be the one who gives it to them)

the man from the bar, james, isn’t your exact type. no one is except for sam, because you’re irrevocably in love with him. but since you can’t have him, and you’re dying to have a fun night without every second being consumed by thoughts of him, how much you love him, and how much you’re sure he doesn’t love you back, you turn to flirting with the nearest handsome single man.

and that means james. james has been nice enough and asked you to call him jamie, because “that’s what his friends call him.” dean gave you an impressed look as you walked past with “jamie” on your arm, and you winked at him, feeling playful and hopeful for a fun night after a tiring hunt. dean grinned back and sam barely gave any indication he noticed you before you settled at the bar and launched into a decently boring conversation with james about his corporate job and the fake life that you spin up for him.

that was over half an hour ago and it’s been at least twenty minutes since james excused himself to the bathroom with the promise that he’d be right back. you know he’s not coming back, but you stay rooted to your seat anyway.

it takes a few more minutes before sam appears, taking the previous man’s spot by your side.

“he left, didn’t he?” you ask, forlorn and not even bothering to look at sam as he settles next to you. sam cringes and nods. you sigh, not having to turn your head to see the movement through the corner of your eye as he confirms your suspicions. sam wonders if he should tell you that the asshole left with someone else. you deserve to know, but he’s hyperaware that it’ll only add to the sting. 

he takes in the look on your face and the empty shot glass that you fiddle with, and he immediately knows that you’re much more upset by this than you normally would be. of course, the situation is completely shitty, for anyone, but on any other day, you’d probably brush it off by looking for someone better or heading back to sit with him and dean for some fun with them (if dean’s still around by then). today, you’re alone and at least an extra shot or two in since the guy left, likely making you more tipsy than you intended to get tonight. more than that, the frown on your lips is easy to see and read, far different from the smile you normally give him when you’re pretending not to care. tonight you don’t attempt hide it.

“you okay?” he finally asks. you sigh again and surprise him a bit by dropping your head on his shoulder. this kind of touch between the two of you isn’t abnormal, but these days it feels like you’re avoiding it a little, which sort of kills him. it takes you a moment to answer, but when you do, sam’s heart clenches.

“i just wanted to dance with someone tonight.” your voice is sad and candid from the removal of your filter by the alcohol in your system. for a moment, sam is blindingly angry with the asshole that stood you up, and he has to hold back a vehement curse before recentering his focus on you and the sad pull between your eyebrows. he just clenches his jaw and lets you say what you need to before he lets any of the million things he wants to tell you fall from his lips. “he said he’d dance with me when he got back… then he didn’t come back. d’you think it’s stupid i wanted to dance? think that’s why he left?” 

now sam’s heart is plain-old breaking for you. he wants to ring the neck of the stupid man that made you question yourself like this, made your voice sound so dejected. then he wants to sweep you up in his arms and hold you close and kiss your forehead and tell you that it’s the sweetest, most endearing thing in the world that you want to dance. tell you that he’ll dance with you every night despite the fact that he can’t do much more than hold you and sway with you. tell you that he’s completely and enduringly in love with you. he discovered that recently, though he figures it’s been true for a long while now.

he has to settle for something a little more tame because you’re upset over another guy, because you’re a little tipsy, and because he can’t lose your friendships if those words don’t come across well.

sam puts his arm around your shoulders and you sink further into him. “if that’s why he left, he’s an idiot. anyone in their right mind would trip over their own feet to dance with you. no one in their right mind would leave you– someone like you, sitting here alone,” he says your name so soft and loving that he thinks he’s given himself away until he remembers you’re not picking up on everything right now, “he didn’t deserve you. you deserve a whole lot better than that ass.” i’d be so good to you, he thinks.

“yeah,” you agree, still sounding a little despondent.

“if you– if you still wanna dance, you’ve got a willing partner,” sam forges ahead, anything to make you smile.

“mm, where? james probably left with someone else, for all i know.” he doesn’t like that man’s name on your lips, and maybe you’re a little more drunk than he thought, because you’re not getting the hint as quickly as you normally would. if you were sober and trying not to act upset, you’d say that all with a playful tone to your voice to tease him for offering. right now, you just sound sort of unbelieving.

“you know,” sam responds, keeping his voice just as serious as yours instead of matching that tease like he normally would.

this time you let a bit of humor slip into your voice, but it’s still sort of pessimistic, “what? are you gonna drag dean away from whatever girl he’s found just to cheer up my sorry ass?” sam has to laugh a little at that thought, because it’s a silly image and almost funny how you refuse to see him as an option.

“your ass isn’t sorry,” sam smiles all soft when that pulls a half-hearted snort from you. his voice is still gentle as he finally says, “i’m right here, you know.”

when you tilt your head up to look at his face, and finally, finally, he gets your eyes on his, he almost melts to the floor. you’re looking at him, sweet and soft with your eyebrows pinched together like you’re not sure if he meant it. then there’s that little hint of hope and joy swimming around in the pretty pools of your eyes and it sets his heart afire, just like that. you’ve done just about nothing special, but to him you’ve done everything.

“you’d wanna dance with me?” you say it like you can’t believe it, like that’s exactly what you’d really been hoping for all night and it takes everything in sam’s power not to swoop down and kiss you right then and there. he’d wanna do a whole lot more than dance with you, but it’s a wonderful, glorious, honey-sweet way to start, he thinks.

“of course,” he grins at you, and that’s all it takes to pull a big smile over your features too. that’s just about everything sam could ever ask for, and it brings a flood of relief over him. he just can’t help himself when he asks, “that is, if you’d want to dance with me? i’m sure i’m not your ideal dancing partner for the night, but hopefully i’ll do.”

“of course i want to dance with you, sam,” you say, so blatantly honest that it makes his heart hurt, “and that’s not true.” you won’t explain what you mean by that, so sam stands with you and gladly lets you use him for balance. it’s not true that he’s not your ideal dancing partner? is that what you meant? he certainly hopes so, because that must mean, by default, he is your ideal dancing partner, and you wanted to dance with him tonight, not this awful james.

maybe you love him back a little, he hopes, as your wrap your arms around his middle and let him sway you back and forth, all gentle and smiling.