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pretzel-box · 6 months ago

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Tags: Comedy, Some Fluff, Streamer AU, GN!reader x Human! Sebastian

Words: 1,9k

"Pressured_Solace has started a stream. Click here to watch."

The blue notification button caught your eye as it popped up on your desktop, the usual alert signaling that your favorite streamer was live. A thumbnail of the game he was about to play accompanied the message, and without hesitation, you clicked to join the stream.

“Jellycatfished joined the stream!”

“Is that the real one??”

“Bet it's another faker looking for donations.”

A grin spread across your face as you slid your headphones over your ears, adjusting them for comfort as you leaned back in your gaming chair. Solace hadn’t noticed your arrival yet, too focused on setting up the stream and chatting casually with the early viewers. Hearing his deep, familiar voice through your headphones sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, filling you with a warm, giddy excitement. Pressured_Solace was your absolute favorite streamer—witty, thoughtful, and with a voice that could melt butter. Like you, he streamed without a face cam, leaving his appearance up to the imagination of his audience, which only added to his charm.

“I think… yeah, I’m all set. Everything’s good,” he mumbled into his microphone. You could hear the sounds of items shuffling around and the clatter of coffee mugs on a wooden desk in the background. Then he leaned closer to the mic, his voice dropping to a playful tone. “Test, test, 1-2, 1-2. Can everybody hear me?”

The chat lit up with eager replies—greetings, questions, and a flood of emotes scrolling by at high speed. The sound of his chuckle was like music to your ears as he tried to keep up with the barrage of messages. You could feel his excitement; it was the same rush of emotions and adrenaline that coursed through your body when you streamed.

“Alright, just a heads-up,” he continued, his tone teasing. “I got a new microphone, and I haven’t fine-tuned all the settings yet. So if you hear anything other than my voice… well, that’s just proof I’m not a robot.”

His joke made you laugh out loud, and without a second thought, you hit the like button to show your support. This was classic Solace, always with that sassy vibe and the funny comments right up his sleeve.

You moved your cursor again, hovering over the donation button as you carefully selected the amount, leaning forward with excitement as you typed a message to accompany it. Money wasn’t an issue for you—you had sponsorships, collaborations, and a well-paying side job as a secretary at a company called Urbanshade. So you took the liberty of spoiling yourself a little by supporting your beloved streamer.

“Jellycatfished has donated $1000. ‘You're telling me you are not an AI that will take over the world, Solace??’”

The automatic voice read out your donation, and Solace burst into laughter, probably shaking his head in amusement. “Welcome back, beloved Jelly. How many times do I have to tell you not to donate so much, silly?” His words were playful, but there was a certain softness in his tone, a hint of affection that made your heart flutter. Knowing that your favorite streamer had noticed you always brought a smile to your face. “But seriously, thank you, Jelly, for the donation,” he said warmly. “I appreciate your support—although I’m starting to think you’re secretly trying to buy my loyalty.”

You laughed, quickly typing back into the chat, “Maybe I am! How else would I get the attention of the coolest streamer online?” A quick moment of embarrassment filled you as you suddenly regretted your message, was it too cringe? Too much?

Solace chuckled again into the microphone, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “You don’t need to buy my attention, Jelly. You’ve always had it.”

The chat exploded with a flurry of reactions, hearts, and playful comments. You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. This was the magic of streaming—the hidden identities, the mystery, the fun banter. It was your little escape from reality, and you loved every second of it.

Just then, a notification popped up on the screen.

“Pressured_Solace has invited Jellycatfished to a private match!”

It was an invitation to a combat pvp game that grew popular in the past few days, blowing up on social media. It became one of your favorite things to stream, and Solace knew that.

Your heart skipped a beat as you glimpsed at the sudden invitation. A private match? With him? You quickly accepted the invitation, feeling a rush of adrenaline and excitement. As the game loaded, Solace spoke again, his voice filled with that familiar teasing tone. “Alright, Jelly, let’s see if you’re as good in-game as you are at throwing money around.”

You laughed, feeling a surge of competitive spirit. It wasn’t the first time you played with him and surely not the last. “Bring it on, Solace. I’ve been practicing.” This was the last message you typed before the loading screen disappeared.

The game started, and the playful banter between the two of you continued over the ingame voice chat, filled with laughter, friendly taunts, and unexpected plot twists. The chat was loving it, spamming comments like “OMG, this is the collab we didn’t know we needed!” and “Ship them already!”

As the game loaded into the next round of the PvP arena, the tension between you and Pressured_Solace crackled like electricity. The map was a sprawling labyrinth of narrow corridors and open spaces, perfect for ambushes and quick escapes. You took a deep breath, fingers flexing over the keyboard, ready to bring your A-game. The chat, that was open on your second screen, was buzzing with excitement, filled with a mixture of support and playful taunts.

"Let’s go, Jelly! Show Solace who's boss!"

“Team Jellycatfished for the win!"

“Pressured_Solace may be good, but Jelly's got that magic touch!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the encouragement flooding in. The support from your fans always gave you that extra boost of confidence, especially when it came to facing off against someone as skilled as Solace. You knew he was good—really good. But you weren’t about to let that intimidate you.

“Alright, Jelly,” Solace’s voice came through your headphones, smooth and teasing. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

“Oh, I plan to do more than keep up,” you shot back, your voice light and playful. “I’m coming for you, Solace. How about a bet?”

“A bet?” He chuckles. “Sure.”

You started to smirk as an idea came to your mind. “If I win, I get to wish something from you.” It took a moment for Solace to reply, he was definitely teasing you by pretending to think. “Fine, but if I win, you're the one that has to fulfill a wish.”

“Deal.”

The match began, and you immediately took off, sprinting down a side corridor to grab some resources. You knew the map well enough to anticipate the power-ups and health packs that would spawn in certain locations. If you could get to them first, you might stand a chance.

But Solace was a step ahead. As you rounded a corner, you were met with a hail of bullets, forcing you to duck behind a crate. You could hear Solace chuckling through the mic.

“Nice try, Jelly, but you’re gonna have to be faster than that,” he taunted, his confidence evident.

Your heart raced as you peeked out from behind the crate, firing off a few rounds in his direction. He dodged easily, taking cover behind a wall. The chat was going wild, cheering you on, urging you to give it your all.

“Come on, Jelly! You got this!”

“Don’t let him intimidate you!”

“Use the power of the Jellycatfished!”

You grinned, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You quickly reloaded and made a break for it, dashing toward the nearest cover. You had to stay on the move—staying in one place too long would make you an easy target. Solace’s aim was deadly accurate, and you needed to keep him guessing.

But every time you thought you had a plan, he was already two steps ahead. He moved through the map like he was born there, seamlessly transitioning from offense to defense. You managed to get a few hits in, but he was quick to recover, always staying just out of reach.

“Having fun yet, Jelly?” he asked, his tone light but focused.

“More fun than you can handle,” you retorted, launching a surprise attack from above, dropping down from a higher platform. Your ambush caught him off guard, and you managed to land a few solid hits before he rolled away, retaliating with a well-placed grenade that forced you back.

The chat erupted with excitement.

“YES! Go, Jelly, go!”

“That was epic!”

“Don’t let up, Jellycatfished!”

Despite the cheers, you could feel the pressure mounting. Solace was clearly better, his skill evident in every move he made. He was precise, calm, and knew exactly how to control the flow of the game. You, on the other hand, were running on adrenaline and instinct, trying to keep up with his calculated strategies.

And then he made his move. In a swift, decisive maneuver, he cornered you in a dead-end alley, cutting off your escape routes. You fired desperately, but his shots were faster, more accurate. Before you knew it, your health bar was dwindling down to nothing.

“Looks like this is the end, Jelly,” Solace said with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Any last words?”

You grinned, a surge of determination flooding through you. “Yeah… don’t underestimate me.”

With a final burst of energy, you lunged forward, launching one last, desperate attack. It was reckless, but you had nothing to lose. You managed to land a few more hits before Solace finished you off with a well-placed headshot.

“Defeated! Pressured_Solace wins the match!”

The screen flashed the results, and the chat exploded with a mix of cheers and playful groans.

“GG, Jelly! You put up a good fight!”

“Solace is just too good!”

“Rematch! Rematch!”

“That was intense!”

Breathless, you leaned back in your chair, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not bad, Solace. Not bad at all.”

“Not bad? I’d say that was a pretty solid victory,” he replied, his tone teasing. “But you did put up a good fight, Jelly. I’m impressed.”

You laughed, feeling a warm flush of pride despite the loss. “I’ll get you next time, Solace. Mark my words.”

“I’m counting on it,” he said with a grin you could practically hear through the screen. “I always enjoy a challenge from you.”

The chat continued to buzz with excitement, fans from both sides celebrating the epic showdown. Even though you didn’t win, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. You may have lost the match, but you had fun, and more importantly, you had earned Solace’s respect. And that, in itself, felt like a win.

As the stream continued, you and Solace bantered back and forth, the playful rivalry only fueling the chat's excitement. It was moments like these that reminded you why you loved streaming so much—the thrill of the game, the support of the community, and the chance to connect with someone like Pressured_Solace, even if you didn’t know him outside of this virtual world.

But there was always tomorrow, and another game to be played. And who knows? Maybe next time, the outcome would be different.

A message plopped up at last, Solace texted you privately over the streaming platform.

“Alright Jellykitten.” He obviously joked by giving you such a silly nickname. “Time for my wish, prepare for your doom!”

“What is it, Solace?”

“Share your discord tag with me.”

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace fanfic #roblox pressure #pressure #pressure x reader #Streamer AU

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arjudy224 · 15 days ago

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The Intern: Small Talk with a Dead Man

After a dramatic realization during Christmas break, Y/N has been peacefully trying to live her life without the influence of the Batfamily. One night after classes, she is visited by an old friend...

*Fluff*

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern Small Talk with a Dead Man

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

I shouldn't have been surprised. TV broadcasts. Google Alerts. The radio guy who complained about Gotham's newest Crime lord during my morning commute. A few local news stations dared to ask, "Is Red Hood more dangerous than the Black Mask?"

Despite all those warning signs, my heart stops when I see him again. A flash of lightning illuminates the man across from me. The signature Red Helmet drips rainwater on my ratty tan carpet. The towering man is far from the mischievous teenager I once knew. Judging by the watercolors across his knuckles, he must have driven from patrol.

From the corner of my bedroom, my phone vibrates on the nightstand. Dick's grinning face covers the screen. I hurriedly decline the call. Tim's face makes an appearance. The screen goes black. I drag my gaze back to the dead.

"Hatchling?" Jason observes motioning to Tim's contact name, "What's Damien's? Infant?"

I pause to think about it. What did I make Damien's?

"Sassy pants... with several angry emojis." I elaborate showing him the contact.

"Ahh... fitting for a child raised by assassins."

The room feels too small. Stuffy even. After years of dreaming of what I'd want to say to him, I blank. The helmet drops to the floor with a thud. His voice breaks.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go."

That breaks me out of my stupor. Crossing the room, I shush him.

"Take this jacket off before you track any more water in. My landlord is terrified of mold."

Reluctantly, he lets me peel the wet leather away from his goosebumped riddled skin. The hulking man slumps towards my touch. In the darkness, I can almost forget how long it has been.

How many nights did we do this? Bruce starting a fight. Jason sneaking in through my childhood window with a devilish grin.

"I figured I've already disappointed one father figure. Why not disappoint them both?"

The image of his charred corpse flashes in my mind. Some memories don't age well.

A well-timed thunderclap shakes me back to the present. My Jason had blue eyes.

"Go sit in the living room," I command throwing a towel in his direction, "Do you want tea?"

"Yes please." He agrees following my heels, "Do you have-"

"The usual? " I interrupt with a sly backward glance, "Who do you think I am?"

I almost blush at the look he gives me. Good God. My back turns to face him while I turn the kettle on.

Which mug do you give a dead man?

I correct myself.

Which mug do you give a crime lord?

I look past the cluster of random holiday cups to my shining star. A brand new Superman mug complete with a washable cape napkin. Water. Green Tea and chamomile bags. A little bit of honey.

While I set everything up, Jason studies the collage of photos on my wall. Some from Gotham. A mix from school. His eyes fall upon a selfie of Dick, Alfred, Barbara, and I. Encrested on the frame, it reads, "Jason Todd Memorial 2022". My throat gets tight. It seems so meaningless now. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I analyze the man. The new uniform is much more outwardly utilitarian than his Robin costume. No more shorts. The guns are new. He had set a few in a cluster on the coffee table. Jason takes a postcard from the collage in his hands.

"George Clooney?" He muses turning over the card, "Dick always had a flair for the dramatics."

"It runs in the family," I retort setting down his mug on the table.

As I draw near, he smiles at the choice of mug.

"I didn't realize that you picked sides."

"Alfred sent it to me as a peace offering," I shrug.

I motion to the brown patched-up couch. Jason eagerly reclines. His body stiffens at the strange lumps towards the center.

"Courtesy of Ma Kent," I joke, "I'm convinced she lined it with kryptonite, so Clark wouldn't jump on it."

Rubbing his sore shoulders, Jason grimaces sitting up.

"Well, I'm sure this is the only couch that could cause the Man of Steel back pain."

Sitting next to the sweaty young man, I sip on my own tea. The bitterness of the green tea grounds me to the present.

"Do you want to talk about what happened in Gotham tonight?" I question glancing at the freshly bandaged cuts on his arms.

He shakes his head grimacing at the memory. New City. New topics.

Grabbing the remote, I start, "What are you feeling tonight? I've been aching to rewatch "You're Next" for a while."

He eyes me with playful suspicion. Jason folds his arms behind his head.

"What? I've always found scary movies comforting after a long day."

"Like the way you find Ma Kent's Couch to be comfortable?" He teases fidgeting with the coarse fabric of the homemade pillow.

The random stains make him raise an eyebrow. Thunder shakes my apartment.

"It's an acquired taste." I reply pulling the pillow flush against my chest, "Besides, horror is the only genre where your anxiety is always right, but the horror never stays for too long. It’s nice to see the Protagonists survive to the end of their story."

For a moment, he looks like my Jason again. The slight bruising around his left eye causes him to squint ever so slightly, but he flashes me an amused smirk. His fixed gaze never leaves my face. I start to sweat. What if he thinks of me differently? Five years is a long time. We've both changed.

"You watch too many movies." He remarks offering me half of the blanket.

I snuggle close allowing myself to enjoy this moment. A flash of lightning illuminates the small TV screen.

"That is probably true." I reply lying my head on his shoulder.

The exhaustion of the day compounds until the opening credits fade into black.

Taglist: @nosyrobin,@jjsmeowthie.@epicy0n,@gaychaosgremlin,@rory-cakes,@luna-zendra-star,@b4tm4nn,@anuttellaa,@chibiduck

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rootedinrevisions · 4 months ago

Text

In the Wings: Part 2

SUMMARY: In the midst of the chaos on set, quiet moments between you and Glen begin to weave a subtle tapestry of connection. As coffee cups become shared tokens of affection and playful banter fills the air, the chemistry between you deepens, revealing layers of warmth and humor. From lighthearted discussions about makeup to Glen’s unexpected revelations about his sisters’ influence, every encounter blurs the lines of professionalism and friendship, leaving you both questioning what lies beneath the surface.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianabomgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 I @saucy-sassy-sparkly I @alipap3 I @dudinhastuff I @lunatygerqueen I @hookslove1592 I @glenpowellluver I @missmarveledsblog

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

The sun wasn’t even up yet, but you were already on set, clinging to your cup of coffee like it was a lifeline. The early morning chill bit at your skin, and you stifled a yawn as you prepped your station. It was only the second or third day of filming, and the early call times were starting to catch up with you.

Just as you took a sip, Glen walked in for hair and makeup, practically bouncing through the door. He was already in costume, a grin stretched across his face as he greeted the crew. “Morning!” he called out cheerfully, like it wasn’t 5 a.m.

You raised an eyebrow, barely able to muster the energy to lift your cup. “How are you so awake right now?” you asked, your voice groggy with exhaustion.

He chuckled as he sank into the chair in front of your mirror. “Well, I’m on coffee number three,” he said, holding up an empty mug like it was a trophy.

You let out a tired laugh, holding up your half-empty cup. “I’m still clinging to my first. You must have some magic metabolism, because I don’t think my body could handle three.”

He grinned at you in the mirror, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “You’ve gotta pace yourself. It’s all about timing. Coffee every forty-five minutes.”

“Oh, is that the secret?” you teased, rubbing your eyes. “I’ll have to take notes. The rest of us mortals are just barely hanging on.”

“Aw, c’mon, you’ve got this,” he said with an easy smile. “Just have another cup. Or two. And maybe a power nap between takes.”

“I wish!” you scoffed, tying your hair back and grabbing a comb to start on his hair. “What’s the longest you’ve ever been on set without a break?”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head, thinking for a second. “Probably twenty hours straight for a shoot that kept getting delayed. Every time we were about to wrap, something went wrong. It was brutal. But, hey, I survived.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Twenty hours? That’s insane. How did you not collapse?”

Glen shrugged, looking a little proud of himself. “A lot of coffee, again. But mostly adrenaline. When you’re on set, there’s this energy that keeps you going. It’s weird, but it works.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that’s not how it works for me. I think I’d just fall asleep standing.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and it made you smile despite your exhaustion. “You? Nah, I’ve seen you on set. You’ve got this calm, focused vibe. I bet you’d be fine.”

“Focused, maybe,” you admitted, smoothing out the front of his hair. “Calm? Not so sure.”

“Well, you fake it well,” he teased, making you smile again. “Seriously, though, you seem like you’ve got a good handle on things.”

You paused for a second, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Thanks. It’s a little overwhelming, to be honest. But, I mean, who wouldn’t be excited to work on something like this? Top Gun? That’s bucket list stuff.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up at the mention of the film. “It really is, isn’t it? I still have moments where I look around and think, ‘Wow, this is actually happening.’”

“Do you get nervous?” you asked, genuinely curious. “Like, before big scenes?”

“All the time,” he admitted with a chuckle. “It’s part of the job. But you’ve just gotta roll with it. Once you’re in the moment, it’s like everything else fades away. The adrenaline kicks in and you just... do it.”

You finished with his hair and set down the comb, wiping your hands on a towel. “I guess I’ll need some of that adrenaline to get through this day.”

“You will,” he said confidently, standing up and stretching his arms. “But if not, there’s always coffee number two waiting for you.”

You laughed again, the weight of the early morning starting to lift a little. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Glen flashed you a quick smile, he grabbed his cup and started to walk out, pausing for a moment at the door. “Hey,” he called back, “if you need a coffee buddy, I’m always down for round four.”

You grinned, shaking your head as you watched him go. “I’ll hold you to that.”

* * * *

It was mid-morning by the time Glen made his way back to your trailer for a touch-up. The wind had done a number on his hair during the earlier shoot, and you had just set your tools down when the door swung open. Glen stepped in, holding not one, but two cups of coffee.

You looked up from your chair, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were on coffee number three this morning? You’re really pushing it now.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “This one’s not for me.” He stepped closer, extending one of the cups toward you. “I noticed your coffee order earlier and figured you could use a refill.”

Surprised, you blinked, glancing between him and the cup. “You got this for me?”

Glen grinned, nodding. “Yep. Figured you could use a little pick-me-up since we both know this day isn’t getting any shorter.”

You took the cup, a smile spreading across your face as you read the label. He’d gotten your order exactly right. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned that you memorized my coffee order this quickly.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t have much choice. You had it written on the side of your cup earlier. Made my life easier.”

You shook your head, amused by his attention to detail. “Still, I appreciate it. What do I owe you?”

Glen waved it off, sliding into your makeup chair with ease. “Nah, it’s on me. Consider it a thank you for always making me look presentable on camera.”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin as you took a sip. “I suppose that’s a fair trade,” you teased, setting your cup down before getting to work on fixing his hair. “Though, I have to admit, I was pretty close to giving up after seeing the state of this mess. The wind really did a number on you today.”

He groaned dramatically, glancing at his reflection. “I know, right? One gust and everything goes haywire.”

“Lucky for you, that’s what I’m here for,” you replied with a grin, starting to smooth out the strands. As you worked, you couldn’t help but feel the small shift in the air between you two. The conversation was flowing easier now, the silences comfortable rather than awkward.

Glen stayed relaxed in the chair, watching you work through the mirror. “You’re too good at this,” he said, his tone warm but casual. “Honestly, you make it seem effortless.”

You chuckled, your hands continuing to move through his hair. “Well, after enough practice, it kind of becomes second nature. Though, I’d say you’re not the worst hair disaster I’ve had to deal with.”

“Oh? And who holds that honor?”

You smirked. “I’m not naming names, but let’s just say it involved a lot of sweat and an unfortunate run-in with a stunt double.”

He laughed again, a deep, easy sound that made the atmosphere feel even lighter. “That sounds like a story I need to hear sometime.”

“Maybe after coffee number four,” you teased, stepping back to admire your work. His hair was back in place, not a strand out of order.

He turned to face you with a grateful smile. “Thanks. For the hair, and for... everything.”

You smiled softly, leaning against the counter. “You’re welcome. And thanks for the coffee. You might’ve just saved my afternoon.”

Glen stood, grabbing his own cup and raising it in a mock toast. “Consider it a small price to pay for making me look good.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he gave you a quick wink before heading back out. The gesture was small, but it left a warmth that lingered long after he was gone.

* * * *

A week or two passed and you had started to feel more comfortable with the routine on set. It was mid-morning, and Glen was back in your chair for a makeup touch-up after the first few hours of shooting. The trailer was quiet except for the hum of the lights, and the steady rhythm of brushes against his skin had lulled both of you into a comfortable silence. You were focused, making sure the base was even, when Glen suddenly broke the quiet.

"Is that the NARS bronzer you’re using?" he asked casually, his tone light.

You froze mid-application, staring down at the palette in your hand with raised eyebrows. "Wait... how do you know that?"

Glen chuckled, his grin spreading wide across his face. "I’ve got two sisters and a niece. Trust me, I’ve been a test dummy for enough makeup experiments to know the basics."

You blinked, half-impressed and half-amused. "Okay, I did not see that coming. So, what—are you secretly a makeup guru?"

He laughed again, the sound warm and relaxed. "Hardly. I just know a few things here and there. Like... contouring, highlighting, and... uh, what’s that thing where you use tape to get a sharp wing?"

"You're talking about the tape trick for eyeliner?" you asked, genuinely surprised by his knowledge.

"Yeah! That’s the one. My niece was all about it for her school dance last year." He shifted slightly in the chair, his expression softening as he talked about his family. "Lauren and Leslie, my sisters, used to rope me into their makeup sessions when we were younger. They were relentless, but I didn’t mind too much."

You smiled as you reached for a different brush. "Well, that explains why you seem so comfortable in this chair. You’re a pro."

Glen shrugged, still grinning. "Hey, I’ve survived worse. And you’re way better than my sisters were back in the day."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and as you worked, the usual professional boundary between the two of you seemed to soften a little more. He felt at ease with you, and you realized that Glen wasn’t just another actor in your chair—he was kind, thoughtful, and had an unexpected way of making the most routine moments feel personal.

"So, should I expect you to start recommending products to the other guys?" you teased, giving him a playful look as you added the finishing touches.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Maybe I should! I mean, have you seen the state of some of their skin? A little moisturizer wouldn’t hurt."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Right? I should help them get a good skincare routine down. 'Hey, guys, just a tip—sunscreen is your friend!'"

Glen leaned back in the chair, nodding seriously. "Exactly! 'You want to be the next big action star? You can't be looking like a potato on screen.'"

"Or like they just came from a three-day camping trip," you added, chuckling.

He chuckled along with you, leaning slightly closer as the laughter faded. "Maybe I should start a YouTube channel—'Glen Powell's Grooming Tips.' I could go viral."

"Just don’t forget to credit me as your makeup artist," you replied, a grin on your face. "I expect a solid shout-out for all the hard work."

"Of course! You’ll be my secret weapon," he said, his eyes catching yours in the mirror. There was a warmth in his gaze, a hint of something unspoken lingering between you. "But really, I’m just glad to have someone like you to make me look good. You’re the best."

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks as you brushed off the compliment with a smile. It was just another easy conversation, another private moment, but something about it left an impression. There was a comfort between you and Glen, a kind of unspoken understanding that made these small moments feel... different.

* * * *

The set was buzzing with activity as the crew prepared for the next scene. You were stationed at a portable makeup station, surrounded by an array of brushes, palettes, and hair products. The air was filled with the chatter of cast and crew, punctuated by the sounds of cameras rolling and directors calling for action.

As you touched up the makeup of one of the actresses, you caught sight of Glen out of the corner of your eye. He was leaning against a nearby wall, watching the scene unfold with a casual air, but you could see the moment his gaze shifted to you.

A few moments later, he pushed himself off the wall and made his way over, his usual smile lighting up his face. “Hey, you,” he said, his voice warm amidst the commotion.

“Hey! What are you doing here? I thought you were filming?” you replied, pausing your work to give him your full attention.

“Just wrapped a scene, and I figured I’d come see what you’re up to,” he said, casually leaning against the makeup station. “Plus, I wanted to make sure you’re not working too hard. You know, it’s a tough job keeping all of us looking good.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re all pretty easy to work with. It’s the directors who give me a run for my money. They keep changing their minds about how they want the characters to look.”

Glen feigned horror, placing a hand over his heart. “What? How dare they disrupt your creative process? Next, they’ll be telling me I can’t wear this shirt!” He gestured to his fitted T-shirt, a playful glint in his eye.

“Don’t worry; I think the shirt is safe for now,” you teased back, feeling more at ease with each playful exchange. “But I’m glad you stopped by. It’s nice to have a break from all the chaos.”

He nodded, his expression growing more sincere. “I totally get that. It’s nice to just hang out for a bit, you know? Plus, I enjoy hearing you talk about makeup and all the behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his interest. “Most guys wouldn’t care about that.”

“Hey, I’m not most guys,” he replied, his tone mock-serious. “I have sisters. I’ve learned to appreciate the art of makeup and hair. Besides, it’s fascinating to see how you work your magic.”

You grinned, flattered by his words. “Well, if you’re ever interested in a lesson, I could always use a willing model.”

“Model, huh?” He feigned deep thought, tapping his chin dramatically. “Do I get to pick my look? Maybe I want a smoky eye... or glitter? I could rock a bold lip, you know.”

“Glitter?” you echoed, your laughter ringing out. “Now that’s a bold choice, Glen. I’m not sure the world is ready for that level of glam.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, crossing his arms with a mock-seriousness. “But only if you promise to take pictures. I want proof when I’m famous!”

“Sure! I’ll make sure to use the most flattering angles,” you replied, your smile widening.

“Hey, you’re the expert. I trust your judgment,” he said, leaning in closer, his tone dropping slightly. “But really, I appreciate you. You make all of this so much easier.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks, Glen. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Anytime,” he said, giving you a playful nudge. “Alright, I should probably let you get back to work before the directors send a search party for me. But I’ll be around if you need a break.”

“Deal,” you said, watching him walk away with a lightness in your chest, knowing that these moments were becoming more frequent and meaningful.

#Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 2 months ago

Note

MY LITTLE FLOWER OMGGGG, GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET SO HARD. YOU COOKED SO GOOD WITH THIS ONE FLUSTERED CLAUDE IS MY EVERYTHING

ヽ(*´∀｀)八(´∀｀*)ノ

claude solves the word problem

okay this is the last one i swear. thank you all for the warm claude reception i really like writing for this guy

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, teasing, butt slap, more pet name bullshit are you ready to rumble

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a week later claude spent the night with you. you woke up alone on one side of the bed, blankets wrapped around you, which should’ve clued you in. you’re never this bundled up when you sleep alone. then you notice the steady drip of the coffee machine and the scent of espresso waft into your room, like a sensory trail to your boyfriend.

claude’s leaning against the kitchen counter. he’s visited so often lately that he left his own mug at your place for convenience, a gaudy green ceramic fish with a tail for a handle, just a few inches from his mouth. the steam floats around his face, warming his skin. it’s a surprisingly cold morning, even inside, and you’ve just realized you fell asleep in his baggy tee last night. that explains why he’s in sweatpants and not much else.

he can hear you approach in the quiet, crisp morning, and glances at you as you enter the kitchen. low in morning voice, you say, “good morning, boyfriend.”

“good morning, All-In-One,” claude says, significantly more awake than you.

“when are you going to drop that?”

“never.”

“okay, creampuff.” claude makes a face into his coffee as you call him that. over the last week you’ve learned that overly sweet nicknames shut him up. out of disgust, sure, but at least you have a reason to call him your sugar free gummy bear. besides, he’s fine with being ‘normal’ ones, like babe and honey and what have you, so you’ll happily take that compromise. “when did you wake up?”

“like thirty minutes ago.” he takes a sip of his coffee, sighs with quenched thirst, and grabs a mug for you once your coffee is done brewing.

you try to thank him but you yawn instead. you’re already out of bed, but it feels like you woke up earlier than usual, and claude’s shirt is so cozy…

he pats you on the head. the fingernails gently guide you over to him so he can press a kiss onto your forehead.

you blink up at him. he’s so casual about these things. steam rises around you, since he moved his coffee to make room for you, dissipating by his brow. “morning, flowery.”

“mm,” you say, too drowsy to really say what’s on your mind.

claude laughs anyways. it’s short but hearty. “oh shit, you’re so gone.”

the steam swings around in an arc. the fish mug clunks on the counter surface. and claude leans in, one hand still in your hair, the other on the hem of your shirt—his shirt—holding you close.

this isn’t an elegant kiss, he took you by surprise on this one. dark espresso and sweet milk lays on his lip. it’s too early for tongue, you’re too disheveled to open your mouth, but you raise your lips just right.

claude bumps his forehead against yours tenderly. his nails scratch at your head as he relaxes his arm and says, “i said good morning, little flower.”

“no, you said flowery,” you correct. unfortunately you’re awake enough to be sassy despite all the fluffy syrupy affection. maybe because claude himself is so casual, so teasing... “you’ve played undertale, right? you may as well call me...“

double unfortunately, a yawn sneaks up on you. you squeeze your eyes closed as you raise your hand to your mouth, letting out the yawn—

—which gets cut off once claude slaps your ass loud enough to interrupt your smartass comment. “i said good morning, HP OfficeJet Pro 8710 All-in-One Printer!” he barks. “we steer clear.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ ⁭part 1 ✧. ┊ ⁭part 2 ✧. ┊ ⁭part 3

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

#claude clawmark #claude clawmark x reader #claude clawmark fluff #nijisanji ttt #ttt x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #4402 writes #nice comments #4402 answers #smolsnoozes

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stop-talking · 1 year ago

Text

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 3)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.8k words

Tags: 18+, mike x reader, no use of y/n, smut, porn with plot, gag, bondage, exes, enemies, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, brat behavior all around, switch mike, sub mike, munch mike, dom reader, oral (fem receiving), pet names, banter, angst, love-hate relationship, hate fucking, aftercare, fluff.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

This chapter is pure smut. If you're here for the story (cuz pfft who reads this stuff right...) you can skip this and still understand part 4. TLDR: they fuck.

─────────────────── ��⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

You sit next to Mike on the couch as you down the last bit of your coffee.

"You know, I think I'd like to use one of my favors." You smirk and put a hand on his leg as you set your mug down.

"O-oh yeah?" Mike stutters out lamely, attention immediately pulled away from whatever stupid show you turned on the T.V.

"Yeah."

Mike yelps softly as you squeeze his thigh, but doesn't make any moves to stop you. Damn it, you know exactly how to push his buttons. You always did.

"What exactly do you want from me?" He narrows his eyes at you, brow furrowing as he desperately pretends he doesn't like to be toyed with.

"What do you think I want, Mikey?"

Mike's eyes go wide as your hand inches up his thigh, but he swallows and returns the sass.

"Why don't you tell me yourself, Princess?"

You huff and shift on the couch, throwing yourself across his lap dramatically. Your back arches from the way you're laying on his legs, and you stare up at him with a pout.

"Just take me to bed already."

Mike does just that, hooking one arm under your back, and the other under your knees. He fucking princess carries you. That's new.

"Damn, you been working out?" You tease him, feeling up his bicep with one arm as you hook the other around his neck for support. He doesn't look especially muscular, hell, he doesn't feel muscular either. Of course, that could be because of the soft hoodie he's wearing.

"What do you think?" He swings you around to face the bench press in the corner of his bedroom as he nudges the door closed with his foot. You'd never seen him actually use the damn thing, but... well, he was carrying you fairly easily.

"I think you've missed me." You look up at him, eyes trailing down to his lips.

"I'm just doing you a favor, sweetheart." He tosses you on the bed before you can get that kiss you were thinking about.

"You mean you're just doing me."

"As a favor."

His stubbornness irks you, and you crawl over next to him as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"Here, let me help." You grab his leg and start taking off his sneaker. Mike's a little confused, but he lets it happen. You take the other one off as well, then wave a dismissive hand at him as you start untying his laces.

"You can take off the rest yourself."

"Fuck are you doing with my shoes?" He grumbles as he removes his hoodie and shirt.

You don't bother to answer him, and when he looks over again he realizes you're completely un-lacing his shoes.

"I need the laces."

"Do I even want to know why?" He scoffs and starts to undo his belt and shimmy out of his jeans, leaving him in just his boxers.

"Oh, you'll find out. Lie down and wait."

Mike stays put, scowling. However, It's a little hard to feign annoyance when he's, well, a little hard. He finally gives in when he realizes you're not gonna throw him any hints, and sighs as he scoots back on the bed.

"Good boy." You tease him, finally pulling the 2nd lace completely free of his shoe.

He groans, but makes no effort to stop you as you climb up on him in a straddling position. He only wishes you'd taken your shorts off first. Oh well. Not like they're covering much, anyways.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"Not as much as you'd regret not doing this."

Mike can't argue with that. So, he doesn't try. He wraps a hand around the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. His other hand finds its way to your lower back and he gives a little tug down, silently begging you to lower yourself onto him.

"Mmmph... nngh..." When the gentle tugging doesn't work, he tries whining, but everything comes out muffled with your tongue practically down his throat. He's not usually the type to just take what he wants, but damn it, he might try it soon if you keep tormenting him.

"What was that, Mikey?" You pull away from the kiss and sit up on him, finally making contact with the twitching hard-on in his boxers.

He's already breathless from the kiss, and now that he can feel you... he can't even talk. You've broken him already. He just pants and looks up at you with those big brown puppy eyes of his.

"Use your words." You scold him, and adjust yourself on top of him to brush up against him. When that doesn't get him to talk, you gently trail your nails down his chest with both hands. That really gets him going.

"Please." He hates begging. He hates this. Wasn't HE supposed to be doing YOU? And yet, here he is, already melting.

"Please what?"

"Please just do whatever-the-fuck you want." He sighs and goes limp, letting his arms drop to the bed as he tries to get his breathing under control. All that kissing made his brain go fuzzy.

"Thank you. I will."

Mike practically growls as you lean down and bite him in the crook of his neck. It quickly turns to a whimper when you start rocking your hips as well, grinding into him with those infuriatingly tiny shorts.

"Shh... Abby's asleep, remember?" Shit. The last thing he wanted to think about right now was his little sister in the room across the hall. You were right though, the walls here are thin. Mike nods and bites the inside of his cheek to quiet himself, then tugs desperately at your hips. He wants you to keep going. He needs you to keep going.

"Aww, you're so worked up already." You can't feel much through your shorts and his boxers, but you can tell his moves are getting desperate. After a minute or so of biting all down his neck and grinding on him, you decide to switch things up before he explodes.

"Fuuuuck." Mike lets out a low groan as you climb off of him. He tries to pull you back down by the hips, but you swat his hands off. No fair.

"Here, gimmie." You take his wrist and hold his arm up, fiddling with something. Before he can even process what's happening, his wrist is tied to the bedpost. Is that... his shoelace? He's not sure whether he should laugh or try and get out while he can.

"You're an evil woman." He groans, but doesn't even try to pretend he doesn't like this. Not with it literally jumping in his boxers.

"This evil woman misses your tongue, Mikey." You tsk at him quietly as you tie up his other wrist. Tight. Damn it, that's gonna hurt later.

"Fuck... sit on my face."

"What was that?" You look down at him with a smirk as you slip out of your shorts and panties, kicking them to the floor.

"Sit on my face." He repeats. "Please."

"Only because you asked so nicely."

Mike nearly dies right there when he feels your thighs wrap around the sides of his head. You aren't quite on his face, instead choosing to sit up on the top of his chest. It's still enough to drive him mad. Damn it, he shouldn't enjoy this so much.

"I... You're so..." He looks up at you, his usual scowl replaced with that dreamy expression you only ever got to see in times like this.

"So what, Mikey?" You prompt him, running your fingers through his dark brown curls with a hand. "Hm?"

"Sooooo mean." He closes his eyes and groans, leaning back into your hand as you play with his hair.

"I wanna be meaner. Suffocate you a little."

"Evil woman." His eyes twinkle as he looks up at you again, unable to hide how eager he is.

Laughing softly, you lift your hips and position yourself over his face. Much to your amusement, his arms tug at the restraints. Has he forgotten he's tied up?

"Hold still." You scold him, carefully lowering yourself. His stubble tickles a bit, but it's a familiar feeling. This isn't your first rodeo, especially not with him.

Mike already has his tongue out before you even touch his face. Honestly, he probably wants this more than you do at this point, even if you are the most infuriating person in his life. He moans when you finally make contact, surprised at just how wet you are. Damn it. You really do love toying with him.

"Shush. No moaning."

Mike whimpers a bit when you scold him, and starts bucking his hips into the air. God, he wishes his hands were free. He can't even bring himself to beg for it, too absorbed in you.

"Fuck, right there." You start to buck your hips slightly as well, grinding onto his face. His tongue is hitting just the right spot, and he fuckin' knows it. Bastard.

As soon as you give him that little sliver of praise, he loses it. Completely. He's a desperate, writhing mess beneath you, pulling against his restraints and thrusting up into the void while he eats you out like he's starved.

With one hand gently pulling his hair, and the other clinging to the headboard to steady yourself, you rock your hips. This earns you another low moan from Mike, and while the vibrations feel amazing against your clit, he needs to shut the fuck up.

"Quiet, or I'll fuckin' gag you." You hiss, yanking his hair a little harder for a moment to make a point. He returns to whimpering, for now.

God, you missed this. Mike Schmidt was a jackass, but he was a jackass that knew exactly how to make you squirm. In fact, you were squirming now. Fuck.

"I'm almost... mmm.... Mike..."

Fuck, now you're moaning his name?

Mike wants to grab your hips and pull you down into his face harder, but his hands are restrained.

He wants to grab himself and finally get off, but again, restraints.

He wants to moan, but you're threatening to gag him.

He wants to keep you in this bed with him forever, but he can tell you're close, and pretty unlikely to stick around afterwards. Even if you could be convinced, he's too stubborn to ask.

He wants to taste your cum. So he does.

"Fuuuuuck." You turn into a trembling mess on his face, your legs going weak as he licks and sucks in just the right way. He knows your body so well.

"Nngh, Mike, stop." You lift your hips, leaving him licking at the air for a moment.

"God, that was..."

Mike watches as you scoot back to sit on his chest again, and feels your thighs gently squeeze his face. When you run both hands through his hair as well, he's in heaven. He doesn't need you to say he did a good job to know he did well. He can tell by the way you caress him, and the slick dripping down his chin. He smiles at the glazed over look in your eyes, and he's sure.

"Did I earn the right to use my arms again, Princess?"

That little smug comment breaks you out of your trance. Bastard.

"Yeah, yeah. One minute." You sigh and stare down at his face. Poor boy is wrecked, your mess all over him.

Mike's eyes go wide as he watches you take off your little white tank top, your only remaining piece of clothing. He only gets a brief look at your tits before you swipe it across his face, cleaning him up.

"Hey, I was gonna eat that." He teases, staring up at your chest with hunger in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you still can." You chuckle and stuff the tank top in his stupid smug mouth, a makeshift gag for what's to come. or cum. hah.

Mike can't help but be annoyed with you. He's clearly going insane with how badly he needs to cum, he just worked so hard to finish YOU off, and his wrists hurt. And what do you do? Gag him. Wonderful.

As soon as you finish untying one of his wrists, Mike uses his newly freed hand to yank the gag out.

"What was that for?" He scowls, reaching to untie his other wrist himself as you crawl on top of him.

"You're loud when you cum. Put it back in and bite down or you're not getting any."

He rubs his wrists and looks at the woman straddling his legs so confidently. If you'd just scoot up a little, you'd be where he really wants you, right on his cock. But he figured that probably wasn't going to happen.

"You're infuriating." He willingly shoves the gag back in his mouth, attempting to scowl through a mouthful of cotton. All his anger melts away when you tug his boxers down and finally wrap your hand around his dick. He shudders. Fuck, he's not gonna last long.

"Just let it out, Mikey." You coax him, using a soothing voice and quick hand to finish him off. He bucks his hips up into you and whimpers through the gag, eyes rolling back into his head. Precum drips from him almost immediately, and you smile. He definitely had fun.

After hardly a minute of pumping, he explodes all over his stomach and chest. Fuck, some even gets on his neck. You laugh and make a show of licking your fingers clean, eyeing him up and down.

When Mike's eyes finally flutter open, he almost gets hard again. He tries to let the image of you straddling him, completely naked, and sucking his cum off your fingers soak into his brain. He wants it burned into his eyes, Christ. Why did he ever let someone so hot get away from him?

"That was fast."

Oh, right, because she's a total witch.

"You told me to let it all out."

"Mhm. And now look at you. A mess."

Mike props himself up on his elbows and snorts.

"Gonna lick me clean too, sweetheart?"

"Nope."

God, why did he even ask? He lies back down on the bed, sexually satisfied, but mentally and physically exhausted. He hardly registers you climbing out of bed until he hears his bathroom door close.

A few minutes later, you return and toss him a rag. It's warm and damp.

"Clean yourself up, you're a big boy." You taunt him while you slip back into your shorts and panties.

Mike sighs but accepts the rag and starts to wipe himself down.

You reach for your tank top, lying discarded at the edge of the bed. Then you remember you used it to wipe up... hm. Probably best not to wear it.

"I'm stealing a shirt." You announce, turning to rifle through his dresser. Is this the shirt drawer? No, this one?

"Keep the tank-top. Free souvenir."

"Stealing? Not borrowing?" Mike scoffs, sliding his boxers back up.

"Yep. Can I take this one?" You turn and hold up a faded grey shirt with a cheesy pun on it.

"No. I like that one."

"Oookay... what about this one?"

"No. Sentimental value."

"This?"

He's tempted to keep denying you, if only to see you shirtless for longer. Damn, if you hadn't tied up his wrists he would have been all over those...

"Mike? Can I have this one?" You repeat, annoyed.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure." He grumbles, turning away in an attempt to hide his blush. It was stupid. He just ate you out, and he blushes at the sight of boobs?

You chuckle to yourself as you throw on his shirt. It smells like him. Or at least, smells like his detergent.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Hope you had as much fun as I did, Mikey." You lean against his bedroom door, preparing to leave.

"You don't wanna stay for a bit?" Damn it. He sounded pathetic, begging his ex to stay. This was just a favor to you, a quick release. He couldn't help but try, though.

"Hm. Don't you have to take Abby to school?"

Mike glances at the digital alarm next to his bed. Shit. They're definitely running late now.

"...Yeah. I'll, uh, see ya?"

"You promised to get a new babysitter this weekend."

He swallows, heart sinking into his stomach. Yeah, he did say that, didn't he?

"Right. Yeah."

An awkward silence lingers in the air for a few moments, so you clear your throat and speak up.

"You wanna walk me out?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After quickly shuffling into some shorts and a t-shirt, Mike walks you to the front door and unlocks it for you while you gather your things. His heart wrenches at the sight of you in his shirt, though he tries not to show it. That sort of thing would usually mean you're his. But you aren't. Not anymore.

"Tell Abby I said good luck in her witching endeavors."

"Will do."

He watches you leave, and the exhaustion finally crumples him. Fuck, Abby's just gonna have to miss the first few hours of school today. He needs a nap. Or a medically induced coma.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: This was my first time writing smut so uh hope y'all enjoy. This series is also my first attempt at fanfiction in general. I'm so excited to write the last chapter! Sorry to end on a sad note. I love angst. Sad little babygirl Mike. <3 <3

Also, is tying Mike up with shoelaces very realistic? Probably not. But it's hot. And I can't imagine he keeps bondage stuff.

Edit: Part 4

#fnaf movie #fnafmovie #jhutch #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mikeschmidt #josh hutcherson x reader #mike x reader #josh hutcherson x you #smut #no use of y/n #x fem reader #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt smut #angst fic #angst

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abitboldshop · 6 days ago

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peachsukii · 9 months ago

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REI! I almost forgot that it was Softie Sunday, I would have been so upset if I had missed it because I have been stewing over this for DAYS.

Bakugou loves to tease you. Sometimes, you get all frustrated and then flustered when you realize he's just messing with you and he thinks it is the cutest thing ever. And other times, you burst into laughter and it just makes him fall for you even harder.

You'll be trying to reach the cereal box on the top shelf, dancing on your tiptoes as your fingertips barely graze the taunting box.

He'll walk into the kitchen, grin when he sees you struggling to reach the box and come over to you, feigning assistance before pushing the box further out of your reach.

He can't help the burly laugh that's forced up his throat when he looks down to see your cheeks puffed out like an angry hamster, your brows knitted together at him in frustration.

"Kaatsukkiiiii." You whine up at him, throwing your head back in exasperation like a child, not getting what they want. You want to be mad, but he's so gorgeous smiling down at you as he soaks in your cuteness.

Other times, you'll be bantering about something and when you actually make a decent point, he'll start to mimic you, talking in a high pitched voice, bobbing his head in an attempt to imitate your sassy body language.

You'll stare at him with an unamused expression(😑) which causes him to chortle before he presses a kiss to your forehead, muttering against your temple, " 'm just teasin' you, Peach."

His favorite is when he makes you so frustrated over something so stupid that you both start to giggle at the ridiculousness until you are both in stitches of laughter.

He had put the cream back in the refrigerator, not realizing that you going to use it. You're all in a huff, reopening the fridge to get it, only to melt when he grabs your coffee mug off of the counter, steadily holding it for you to add the cream to.

As soon as you open the container and begin to tilt the carton toward the opening of the mug, he slightly moves the mug out from under the spout of the container, causing you to nearly spill it on the floor.

You begin to giggle, "Katsuki, this is battle neither of us will win." He's grinning like a fiend at this point, loving the way you're trying to suppress your laughter. When you try once again to pour the cream into the mug, he moves it again.

You're shaking with laughter at this point, completely giving up and setting the cream down on the counter. Katsuki laughs with you, setting your mug down on the countertop, watching, waiting for the moment you to decide it was safe to try again.

Playfully narrowing your eyes at him, you pull the mug closer to you. Once again, you pick up the carton and begin to tilt the opening toward the lip of mug, only for Katsuki to gently grab the handle of the mug between his thumb and index finger, slowly pulling it away from you, watching with tears of laughter wetting the corners of his eyes as your pad after the mug sliding away from on the counter, chasing it with the container of cream like a little goblin.

Once he reaches the end of the counter, he lets you have it, snorting as he throws back in head in laughter as you laugh, "Aha!!" in victory, which you both stand there, laughing so hard your bending over to clutch your stomach.

He is just so incredibly in love with you and he loves that you let him mess with you regularly so that he can continue to prove it so because he doesn't mess with anyone like that. Just you.

Pastel, I’ve read this like six times and it makes me so damn smiley!!!! Especially “I’m just teasin’ you, Peach.” 🥺🥹😭🧡💖💜

((This happens in my household daily as well 😂))

I adore that he does it just to make us laugh, to be silly and stupid. Ending up laughing over stupid things together is my favorite thing and I’m gonna cherish this thought forever. 🥰💖

『 #reis softie sundays 』

#reis softie sundays #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #Katsuki bakugou #bakugou fluff #my hero academia #x reader fluff #reis bakugo files #☆.reis library

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nyoomfruits · 3 months ago

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28 with maxoscar mayhaps? 💖

28. feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling

"Honestly I just hit the curb too hard on the exit of turn four, and then I had to correct that, and then you know how the car is in sector three. I mean, well, you don't, but I told you how we're like slower in the high speed corners, right? Anyway, pretty much lost my lap by then."

Max hums, snuggled up into Oscar's side, feeling the rumble in his chest as he talks his way through his qualifying laps. They're in Max's appartment, his living room, having only just come home from a Grand Prix weekend. It's been a long one, a weird one, and so they've barely had time to talk through their respective weekends.

But it's nice now, cuddled up in a place Max is starting to see more and more like home, now that it's slowly getting filled up with Oscar's stuff. The mug they bought at the Hungary Airport, right after Oscar's first win, that's found it's place in Max's kitchen cupboards. The hoodies that have found their way into Max's closet. A book Oscar's been reading, propped up on his coffee table.

It feels right. It feels good.

As Oscar talks his way through his second Q3 lap, the one that eventually ended up with him in a respectable third place, Jimmy and Sassy jump their way up on the couch, snuggle their way into the little pile of humans already there.

Max lets out a content sigh, rubs his hand over Jimmy's back, and Oscar does an animated rendition of the last three corners, face lighting up in a way that makes Max want to kiss him all over.

Home, he thinks.

#maxoscar #lmao im sorry i always make them a bunch of sappy homebodies #i just love the soft cozy vibes potential of maxoscar

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banquetwriter · 10 months ago

Note

hellooo! can i request johnnie x reader, where his tweets are about a song but the fans think they broke up because y/n also had a suspicious tweet like him!! thank you i hope you have a wonderful day!

୨୧ Assumptions ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ short (I'm sorry) fluff tbh

summary: ʚ the fans get the wrong idea when you and Johnnie tweet lyrics of his new song ɞ

Words: 1299

An: this is short but honestly it's so sweet and I loved doing this!!

SUPPORT ME

You made sure to keep balance with the plate and cup in your hands as you approached your office room. You had finally convinced Johnnie to start editing in your office since he moved in. You both even set up a little recording spot for him complete with a spooky background.

You walked up to the door and knocked against it slightly using your foot. After a moment or two the door opened with a slightly worn-looking Johnnie. “Hey what's all this for?” he asked, opening the door for you. “Well you have been working so hard on your new song I thought I outta surprise you.”

You say with a big smile holding up his cup of tea and chips. “Eh, I'm really proud of this song. I just hope it, you know, does well,” he says with a short laugh at the end of his sentence. You smile while walking to the couch that is directly next to his editing chair.

The one you sat at and relaxed while he would stream. The whole world seemed so in love with you two dating. Everyone loved how well you two worked. And you loved it too. “I'm sure they will babe. I think you fucking killed it with this song,” you spoke moving your legs up to your chest and setting the food on the desk.

He smiles as you sit down in his chair and start to click around on his computer. You plucked a chip off of his plate scrolling around Twitter. “Hey, quit stealing my chips,” Johnnie said, staring at you accusingly.

You pause looking up at him, blinking slowly for a second. “When your dick gets bigger I will,” you said with a faux smile. He giggles at your comment, turning back to the computer, his fingers reaching for the coffee mug.

“Be careful, I think the tea is still pretty hot.” you half mumble the warning before putting the chip in your mouth. “I'll drink whatever the fuck I want bitch.” he says in a sassy, Timmy-esque voice. He takes a small sip of the tea before yanking the cup away from his mouth. “Fuck!” he shouts as the hot piqued burned his mouth.

You let out a loud laugh at his reaction, covering your mouth as you did so. “Aahh fuck you!” he yelps again searching for a drink of something colder. You snicker looking back down at your phone. Twitter was usually an awful place to be and it wasn't any different than this time.

You banned Johnnie from looking up his name on social media sites, and it wasn't good that you still did it but occasionally you liked to check in on fans and see what was popular amongst the fandom.

Most were hyping up the newest video you had posted this week and taking clips from it as reactions. Your fans were so funny, like genuinely. It blew you away that people found you so funny.

Of course, there were a select few that were not ideal. One about how You and Johnnie haven't posted in a while, and that you two must have broken up. They were not true by any means. With Johnnie's new song coming out soon it was easier for him to bulk-record videos so he had more time during the day to work on it.

Johnnie had finally calmed down from burning the shit out of his mouth. “How much of the new song have you teased?” you asked using your foot to spin his chair so he faced you. You continued to munch on a few chips, eating all the food you brought for your boyfriend.

“Honestly not much just that I have a new song coming out, not even a date or anything,” he said, grabbing a chip too. “Mmm we should start doing more to promote it, well sorry, you should do more this isn't my song,” you murmur using your ring finger to tap around your phone with your chip-dust-covered hands.

“Mmm, I feel like it's both of our songs in a way, I mean yeah I performed it and edited it but you helped me write it. You're also helping me by taking care of me.” he gestured to his tea as he took a sip.

You smiled at his words. It was nice when credit was given for things like this. This was Johnnie's song but you did help him with the lyrics. It was about the heartbreak of getting older, the lyrics sounding like you were talking to time.

The idea simmered down into a few words; it was like breaking up with time. The lyrics were akin to a breakup song. It was a cool idea and one you dealt with as you grew older. You even starred in the music video as the “time” character.

“What were we thinking of doing?” he murmured with his mouth full. “Maybe tweeting a few of your lyrics? Something you wouldn't normally rant about I guess,” you suggested dusting your fingers off.

“That could be cool, we should do it from the chorus or something,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “Yeah for sure,” you mumbled absentmindedly, moving the chair with your foot still.

Over the next few days you both tweeted lyrics from the song. ‘I will forever mourn the loss of us’ and ‘You can't stay innocent to it forever’ got the most likes. Unfortunately, you two were now trending. “What the fuck are we going to do?” you asked looking at the #Johnnieandy/nbreakup tag.

“Just ignore them? The song comes out soon anyway,” he reassured you, his thumb rubbing the side of your thigh. Your legs rested on his lap as you cuddled up next to him.

You still didn't like the idea that everyone thought you two broke up. You can see how someone might think that from your guy’s tweets. And yes you shouldn't assume something about someone online but that just means your fans care about you. Doesn't it?

After a few days, you both released another video on each other's YouTube channels. The entire comments were filled with asking where the other person was. If you two had really broken up this would have been awful. Thank god you hadn't.

You both decided that you two should make at least one video addressing the rumors. On one of your tik toks someone had commented ‘Did you and Johnnie break up?’ so you replied to the comment with a video.

“Hey guys so a lot of people have been asking if me and my boyfriend Johnnie broke up, so today we are going to go ask him,” you said holding the phone up to your face as if introducing a vlog.

The next shot was of your feet walking up to Johnnie sitting on the couch. “Hey babe?” you asked, pointing the camera at him. “Yeah?” he answered back looking up at you. “Did we break up?” you ask as if it was a normal question.

“Umm last time I checked no,” he replied back trying to hold his smile back. “Oh ok, sweat just checking. Love you,” you said back moving the phone down as he broke his serious face and laughed with you.

You posted the tik tok captioned “addressing the rumors”

You cuddled up next to him and read the comments. Most of them were making fun of others for assuming things. The other half was just talking about how cute the two of you were together.

The following day the song and music video were posted and the feedback was worth it. You were so proud of Johnnie and all he had done but this song meant so much to both of you.

#jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie x you

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rileyglas · 10 months ago

Text

The List ~Pt. 5 - Confrontation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: While out for a walk, you run into everyone’s ‘favorite’ Overlord, resulting in a brutal altercation. Recognizing the danger you put yourself in, Alastor is all too willing to offer another deal.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, Valentino so yeah, mentions of blood and bodily harm, eventual smut (it will return), actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+ MDNI

3.7k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 (You're on it!) Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

When you asked Alastor to prove himself to you, you half expected him to just continue ignoring you around the hotel. He seemed like the type to keep any personal interaction behind closed doors. Keeping some privacy isn’t a bad thing. Before the deal, he stuck to doing his job around the hotel, helping Charlie with whatever new idea or ask she had, and broadcasting his evening radio show. Every so often he might have a drink at the bar, making small talk with Husk and Nifty, otherwise he kept to himself in the shadows.

These last few weeks were slightly different. If he grabbed a coffee, he also poured one for you (always using one of his mugs). He made a point of being at every group activity, standing practically on top of you with a hand on the small of your back. He often offered to accompany you into town if you were going for a walk. “I just enjoy your company dear” he would reason. You’re far from complaining, however, the other residents were starting to notice.

“Alright what’s the deal?” Husk thumps your drink on the bar, his aggressive tone catching you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Al – what the fuck is going on there? I thought you had more common sense than associating yourself with his sorts.”

Fuckin ouch.

“I have plenty of sense Husker,” you hissed with irritation at what he was insinuating. Vaggie and Angel silently take their seats next to you, feeling the tension of the conversation. “– and if you must know we discovered we have more in common than we thought. You of all people should know keeping someone of his sorts on good terms is wise. Thank you for your concern though.” You throw back your drink, slamming the empty glass into the bar as you stand up.

Husk tries to smooth over your venom, “Listen kid, you’re still pretty new to Hell…I’m just –“

“Thank you again Husk! Talking with you is always a pleasure.” You cut him off, putting on your jacket and walking towards the hotel doors.

Footsteps trail behind you - followed by a hand on your shoulder, “Hey doll, don’t be too upset with him. We all just….we worry is all. Smiles is still Mr. Mystery pants. Charlie seems to be the only one not worried about his intentions.” Angel offers you a cautious grin. His smile always seems to brighten your mood.

You place your hand on top of his, “Thank you hun. I’m not mad and I understand everyone’s… apprehension…. But I need you guys to trust that I know what I’m doing. You all have enough to worry about around here.” R̵͚̀ŭ̴͓l̷̥̓ȩ̷͒ ̷̢́#̵̧͌3̶̫̈́ ̴̬̾N̶̬͊e̷͇͂v̵̞̚ę̴̿ŕ̵̖ ̵̟̈́ḅ̶͂r̷̤̔í̸͜n̴̳͌g̴̫͐ ̶̢͠a̸̳͝n̶͕̐y̴̓ͅo̸͎̐n̷̚͜ȩ̷̇ ̸̪̑ẗ̶͈́ő̴͜o̷̺̊ ̵̛̬c̴̘̀ľ̴̹o̶͇͗s̸̠̾e̴͇͝

Needing some time to yourself, you decide to take a stroll through Pentagram City. The streets could be dangerous when traveling alone, but Carmilla was kind enough to let you leave with some…equipment. Like a nervous tick, you palm the carmine knife sheathed on your waist. You always hope there isn’t a need to use it but can never be too careful.

Heaven’s embassy clock ticked down, showing less than 100 days until the next extermination. You sigh at the thought, taking notes as you walk. Every year you mapped out places you would be needed most, where you could hide sinners, alleys you could use to corner or escape the Exorcists. Maybe Alastor could help me this time? He did say together we would be more powerful.

Lost in your plans, you don’t realize you’ve started pacing the streets of the V’s territory. It isn’t until you hear someone yelling down an alley that you become aware of your surroundings.

“Listen here, you little fuck – you’re our lowest earner this month and I’m in a bad mood so…” a large demon pins a rabbit-like sinner to the alley wall, pulling a pink and white gun from his hip. “I figured you could help me BLOW off some steam. Now, now, baby - hold still for me and don’t make too much of a mess hmm?”

You look closer and recognize the tall moth demon.

Fucking Valentino.

You see red and make your way down the alley. Hearing your footsteps he turns but not before you blindside him, body slamming him to the ground. The sound of metal echoes as his gun slides across the pavement. The poor sinner runs off without a word. You’re welcome, I guess. You bend over the disoriented Valentino.

“Tough luck being out here today Val – Coincidentally I’m also in a bad mood so let’s have a chat.”

With a gust of his wings Val pushes himself off the ground and towers over you. “Ohhhhh aren’t you CUTE. Ya know people would pay good money to see a spicy chiquita like you fucked into her place, however that little stunt just sealed a different fate for you.” Smoke floods around you, wrapping tightly around your body. Your feet leave the ground as he pulls you close enough to run his tongue across your cheek. “Hmmm…tasty. Maybe I shouldn’t kill you. I could do quite a bit with this body of yours.”

A cynical laugh erupts from your chest. “Oh please – set me down. Save us both the embarrassment.” He cocks an eyebrow at your demand and tightens his smoke’s grip.

Feeling the crack of your ribs almost knocks all the air out of your lungs, but your rage is stronger than any pain. I’ve watched him hurt Angel one too many times.

“Wrong answer Val.” You concentrate your power, hands aglow as they conjure tiny, razor-sharp needles. With a swift flick of your wrists, they pierce and slice through Val's wings. “Cool thing about needles, they can help pull you together or tear...you…apart.” He howls from the pain, loosening his grip on you. With a little more room to move, you pull yourself back and headbutt him with so much force his glasses shatter. The blow makes his smoke disappear and you drop back to the ground. Time for some fun.

Unable to see clearly - Val frantically feels around for his gun. Pathetic. Crushing his hand with one foot, you use the other to deliver a full force kick to his chin, sending his gold tooth down the alley. “You little BITCH! Who the fuck do you think you are!?” he growls as blood pours from his mouth. You climb on top of him, pinning him down with a knee slowly crushing his dick. Screams of pure agony echo off the surrounding walls.

You grab his face with one hand and pull the knife from your waist, digging the point into Val’s cheek, “You lay your hands on any of your employees again, I’ll make sure this knife gets buried into your chest. Now be a good boy and let me decorate that pretty little face.” You turn his head and hastily carve “spurc” into his cheek. He cries out with each attempt to move, feeling your knee dig deeper into him. “Shhhh you can take it baby, come on, we’re almost done. That’s what you tell them, right? NOW HOLD STILL.” Mocking his pain you turn his head the other way, slicing “issime” into his other cheek. Blood pours from his face, staining your hands and wrists. “Spurcissime – complete filth. Quite fitting I think.”

You stand up to admire your work and release the demon writhing on the ground. Time to go. Turning to leave, you hear Val call out to someone. What is he crying about now? Without warning you’re hurled against the brick wall - your head taking the worst of the impact. As you struggle to pull your body off the ground, a large, blue claw wraps around your neck to pick you up. Between the blow to your head and your now rapidly declining oxygen, your strength dwindles.

“Are you fucking kidding me Val –You got your ass beat by Carmilla Carmine’s secretary!?”

How the fuck does he remember me?

“No she’s not –“ Val tries to warn but is ultimately ignored.

“It’s okay sweetheart. She can replace you. Sucks though. I always enjoyed staring at that ass. Made the meetings less insufferable.” Vox’s grip tightens around your neck and his other hand slides up your thigh, starting to grope every inch of you. Your vision begins to tunnel as your body goes limp, his grasp controlled and unforgiving.

Just before complete darkness takes over, a familiar voice booms in your ears, “ENOUGH!” The hand around your neck releases and the world around you spins, fading out then back in. You pull yourself to your hands and knees and try to gasp. A stabbing pain rips across your sides with every attempt to collect the air around you. Any adrenaline your body had was long gone now. Oh yeah, cracked ribs. Ouch.

Looking up you realize you’re in Alastor’s room. Any other day you would have inhaled the soft musk filling the air, but right now you can barely take a breath. “Alastor?” you whimper, throat hoarse from being nearly crushed. “Hello? Alastor?” Still silence. You lay back on the floor to try to steady your breathing and wait for the Radio Demon to make an appearance.

It only takes a few minutes to see his shadow appear, followed by Alastor himself. The initial relief you feel is quickly replaced by concern. His jacket was ripped up, and blood trailed across his mouth. “Shit are you okay? What happened?” you try to move to him but double over.

He huffs wiping the blood from his face. “No, you don’t get to ask the questions right now.” His words were near inaudible over the static. He was livid. “I want to know what the FUCK you were doing out in V territory ALONE!?” He rather unkindly picks you up, prompting throaty cries of pain and protest.

Alastor brings you to the bathroom and sits you up on the counter while he digs through his medical kit. You finally gather enough breath to speak, “Last I checked, I don’t need permission to walk around the city. Have you forgotten who I am? I am not some stupid -”

“Well apparently you are.” He bites at you without making eye contact – continuing to pull apart the kit.

Tears well up in your eyes. Too tired to fight them back you let their warmth coat your face. They steadily stream down and drop into your blood-soaked hands. You try to squeak out an explanation, “He…he just hurts so many people. He almost killed Angel. If you ask – “

“I didn’t.” he cuts in.

“I didn’t know he would get Vox in –“

“I don’t care.”

“FUCK Alastor what is your problem!?” you snap, tears burning as they run down your cheeks.

He slams his hands on either side of your legs, caging in your body and leaning right down to your face. If he wasn’t pissed right now, this would be so attractive.

“My problem? What is my problem?” Alastor’s antlers expand and a red ‘x’ glows on his forehead. His body grows and looms over you as his grip starts to crack the countertop, “Do you forget who they are? Of course Vox got involved! And if I hadn’t stepped in, he would have done who knows what to you! His hands already started to defile you - Is that what you wanted? To die at the hand of a perverted, unscrupulous Overlord?” His words were like knives, and you despised every slice he made.

His outburst ignites your own rage, making your demon form flare, “No, Damnit, you don’t get it! Down here you’ve only ever lived for yourself! You’ve never watched someone you care about almost die because of some piece of shit! You’ve never felt the need to tear that person limb from limb for what they did! I wanted to make him suffer and I DID!“ you scream at him until your voice gives out and your body gives up. A deafening silence falls over the bathroom. The only sounds reverberating off the walls are your stifled sobs. Some from anger, some from pain. Ṟ̸̂u̸̫͂l̴̟̈e̷̩͛ ̸͖̽#̷̹̀4̴̎͜ ̴̰̇Ṉ̷̀e̸̲͌v̴̻̈́e̵̥͘ṛ̸͛ ̵̗̑l̴͍̃ė̶̠t̶͈̾ ̴̣̒y̷̬͋ò̵̭u̸̩̽ŕ̶̼ ̴̪̾ẉ̵̑ȅ̴̩ą̴̕k̵̗̐n̶̻̅ȇ̷̳s̸̢͋s̸͖͂e̷̡͛s̶̘̍ ̴͍̏š̴̢h̶̼̐ǫ̴͊w̷͉͝

Alastor shrinks back to normal. He cups your face gently to clean off the dirt and blood – tending to the few scrapes across your cheeks. You keep your eyes down to avoid his stare. The last thing you want to see is pity from the demon, at least not right now.

As he kneels to clean your hands, his buttery voice finally breaks the quiet, “You know, had you said all of that yesterday, you would have been absolutely right.” He looks up, noticing your head tilt in confusion. “Seeing his hands on you triggered something in me, and I wanted nothing more than to rip apart that piece of shit for….trying to take you away from me. So yes, I do understand. But that doesn’t mean I’m still not cross with you for going by yourself. You’re lucky I had my shadow follow you.” A sly smile flashes up at you. In that moment a gnawing thought crosses your mind. Does he actually care for me? Or is he only afraid to lose the power I can give him?

Either way, he did save you, so you conjure enough strength in your voice to whisper, “Thank you Alastor,” and place a kiss on his forehead.

Once he finishes cleaning the cuts on your hands, he stands and hooks a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His red eyes dart back and forth between yours as if trying to read every thought you could have. A smile paints his face but you can see something more. Worry? Sadness? Regret? You want to question him but the intensity of his stare has you frozen.

“I want to make another deal.” he finally says in a whisper, holding his gaze. Your stomach drops. This is what you’ve been worried about. That he was going to try to break down your walls until you willingly promise him your soul, bounding everything you have to him. R̴̤͑u̵͓̒l̷͊ͅḛ̸̒ ̸̉͜#̴͉̓1̶͇̔ ̸̟͑Ṋ̸͋e̷̮̎v̷̼̾e̸̪͌r̴̥̈́ ̵̳̽t̴̩͐r̶̻͊u̷̘͝ș̴͒t̶͙̂ ̶̝͑â̵̩n̴̙̿o̸̡͗t̸͚̒h̴̯̓ë̸͓́r̶͎̂ ̸̙̎O̸̺͌v̷̧͠è̴̼r̸̹̓l̵͊ͅo̸̜͒r̵̠̂d̸͓̽ .

“Wh-what?”

“I want to make another deal - you promise to let me accompany you every time you leave these hotel walls and, in exchange, I will teach you how to grow your strength and power so this never happens again.” Well that is not the deal I was expecting.

Relief replaces anxiety. You lean in and give a cheeky smile, “You do realize both of those things can happen without a deal - unless you’re just looking for an excuse to kiss me again.”

“Bold of you to assume I need an excuse, “ he purred, closing the last bit of space between your bodies, lips hovering over yours, ‘but do we have a deal?”

You can barely breathe out “Deal.” before his lips gently press into yours. A glow fills the room but you don’t even notice this time, too lost in his touch to care.

He reluctantly pulls away, “You should probably stay here tonight. I don’t think it’s wise for you to be alone in this condition.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I got it –“ hopping off the counter, you almost crumple to your knees. Alastor catches you with a smug chuckle. “I had a feeling you would fight me on that. It is completely up to you of course. However I will warn you I am willing to go to extreme lengths to convince you of the right choice.”

Once again, you’re lifted up and out of the bathroom. “Don’t threaten me with a good time -” You try to tease but lose your breath. A low laugh leaves his chest, “I believe we’ve had enough fun today my dear.” Every muscle in your body welcomes the soft bed as he lays you down on his silk sheets.

Your eyes flutter heavily as you hear him move about the room, leaving briefly. Am I really going to stay here with him? Guess not too much of a choice now. I know he won’t hurt me, not tonight anyway. The door opens and you feel him climb into the bed with you.

Turning to face him, you watch him lean back against the headboard, book in hand. “I thought you didn’t sleep.” you joke drowsily.

“I don't need much but that just means I can keep you company while you rest.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to…but maybe you could tell me some stories about when you were alive? You can be my personal radio show for the night.”

A pleased hum leaves his chest, “As you wish, ma chère.” He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer. Time might as well have stopped as he begins telling you about his life, his mom, his home, the old radio show. You practically melt into his chest while drinking in every drop of his sweet voice. It was nice to peel back a few layers of who the Radio Demon was.

You wake up in a panic the next morning. Sitting up, your tired brain takes a moment to catch up with your surroundings and you relax remembering the previous night’s events. The mirror across the room catches your eye, showing purple and blue bruises painted across your skin. “Uhhg I look rough.” you whisper to yourself.

“Still beautiful as ever, my dear.” a voice cut in, making your heart jump into your throat. You didn’t even notice his shadow or him fading into the room while you tried to collect yourself. “Good morning Alastor, and thank you but these marks are not very flattering.”

He sits on the edge of the bed and lightly traces his hand around your face and throat. His smile almost falters. “I loathe seeing the marks he’s left on you…but I take pride in knowing he won’t ever lay a hand on you again.” a snide grin crosses his face. That’s probably why he took so long to get back to the hotel. I don’t even want to know what he did to Vox in that alley.

“Now! You stay here, I will go grab us some coffee!” Alastor jumps up to rush out the door but you stop him. “No, wait – I want to come with you.” He nods and leans against the doorway, waiting for you to put yourself together. You only bother to run a comb through your hair. No use in trying to cover up anything.

He wraps his arm around your waist while walking down to the lobby. Plopping yourself on the couch, you look up to see Husk staring over a newspaper, eyebrow cocked. A gruff “Hmpf” comes from behind the paper as Alastor walks by into the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, “Don’t even start Husk.”

He slams the paper down on the bar, “I ain’t startin nothin! But it sure looks like he tried to finish –“ “He didn’t touch me. I wouldn’t even be sitting here if it wasn’t for him – “

Angel bursts through the hotel doors roaring with excitement, abruptly ending your conversation with Husk. “Oh good you guys are here – you will not BELIEVE what happened last night and holy shit what happened to you!?“

He looks mortified at the marks across your face. “Tripped. Please continue.” you say dryly.

Alastor finally returns with coffee, taking his seat right next to you as Angel finishes talking about his shift and how bad of a condition Val was in.

“It’s crazy someone was powerful enough…or ballsy enough…to do something like that to him. He’s pissed and from what I heard, Vox wasn’t looking too hot either.” You shoot a look over to Alastor who huffs smugly, looking away as he takes a sip of his coffee. I fucking knew it.

You turn your attention back to Angel, “If someone knocked him around that much, he’s bound to want to take it out on someone. Are - are things going to get worse for you?” Anxiety grips your chest at the realization you may have only aggravated Angel’s situation rather than helped.

“Eh it’ll be weeks before he even gets back to working the studio, besides no one is going to take him seriously with those words on his face. Whoever got ahold of him CARVED into his cheeks. Fuckin deep too. Heard it was a carmine knife, so Satan knows it’s gonna scar.” The enthusiasm in his voice helps ease your worries.

Husk finally chimes into the conversation, “hmm and uh – what exactly was written on his face?” his eyes look straight through Angel and settle on you. There’s no way he thinks –

“I don’t know some Latin shit I can’t pronounce. I overheard some older demons say it ‘labeled him as dirty’ or something like that.” Angel shrugs it off and continues joking about how great the next few weeks were going to be for him.

You finish your coffee and stand to get more, wincing at how sore you still feel.

“You could have asked me, dear. I was about to get up for more as well.” Alastor motions for you to sit back down while taking your cup. When he walks away, Angel comes over and sits on the floor next to you.

“Soooo…you gonna to tell me who actually gave you those bruises? Did you get freaky with Smiles? I just knew he was into that kinda –“

“He didn’t do this Angel.” Your words are soft but stern. He looks up with worry in his eyes. “Don’t take pity on me like that. I am FINE…” you peek up to see Husk’s back turned. Leaning over Angel’s ear, you drop your voice to a whisper, “and uh, between you and me – the word is spurcissime. Roughly translates to ‘complete filth’.” R̴̗͠ǔ̷̮l̸͍͘ẽ̴̘ ̴̩͑#̴̙͆2̸̥̎ ̴̲͌N̸̰̒e̵͔͝v̴̯̆ë̸͙́r̴̬̀ ̸̩̏t̶̳̍ḙ̵̑l̴̥͝l̵̹̍ ̴͎͆ă̴̤ ̷͖̉s̴͕̕o̸̼͊ǔ̶̡l̶̝̿ ̷̺̓ẅ̵̟́ĥ̵̞a̶͖̿ṱ̵̏ ̸̢̕(̵͉̽ŏ̵̢r̵͚͛ ̷̘̈h̷̯̾ò̴̺w̵͉̑ ̸͔̀m̷̡̈́ủ̷̞c̶͂ͅh̷͇̋)̶̻̂ ̵͖̈p̵͍͒o̶̤̽ẉ̶́e̷̤̚ȑ̵̪ ̸̣̚ÿ̴̥ö̶́͜ù̸͎ ̸͇̑ĥ̸̤ä̷̙v̶͖͒e̶̥͛

You sit back on the couch haughtily, taking pleasure in the absolutely dumbfounded look on his face.

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

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chrisevansonly · 1 year ago

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𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 | 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒄

☁︎charles leclerc x female reader

☁︎there is nothing that brings in the fall feeling than a little cuddle on the couch and a binge watching party for gilmore girls…and yes, charles loves it just as much as you do

☁︎no warnings just very cute and wholesome:)

☁︎oh my godddd anyway we’re almost at the end of the fall celebration🥹 i’ve been having so much fun writing these and im gonna miss them so much! i feel like this is bad and crappy but ill be doing a christmas version in december so great ready for that ;)

If there was one thing Charles loved more than you, it was the little traditions you’d both started since getting together, many of them he’d adapted from you and your love for fall and all things october. More recently you’d introduced your boyfriend to Gilmore Girls, and if anyone knows this show, the best time to watch it is in the fall when the leaves are all changing and the weather turns a bit cooler.

“Do you need any help baby?”

You could hear his voice from the living room as you stood in the kitchen, just finishing up some last minute pastries and snacks for the two of you

“Um I think I might need some help to organize all of these things” you stated with a slight laugh, yes you were known to go overboard with food

“Wow, we could feed a whole family with this mon amour…”

Your cheeks flushed as you shrugged

“Well I did kind of invite Carla and Arthur to come over and watch…they’ve never watched it…”

It should be mentioned that you and Charles rewatched Gilmore Girls every fall, it was your favourite bingeable show to enjoy together

“What?!”

“I know I said the same thing”

Charles almost couldn’t believe your ears, if people thought Lando Norris was the king of sass, they’d be surprised to see Charles’s sassy attitude at home with you

“How can people just not watch Gilmore Girls? It’s just-it makes no sense.”

Laughing you walked over and pressed a kiss to his lips

“Don’t worry lovie, we’ll make sure they watch every episode carefully”

“They better, it’s important”

With a last dramatic sigh he moved to the kitchen to help organize all your snacks, which allowed you to pour the apple ciders in to your cute fall mugs, placing them neatly on a tray and bringing them to the expansive coffee table. Your next task as placing a few blankets on the couch and dimming the lights to perfect for your afternoon and evening of tv watching

“It looks perfect as usual baby”

Smiling you leaned into Charles’s side as you both examined your hard work, well more so yours because the last time the monégasque tried to help you ended up with burnt turnovers and very crispy croissants. He might be quite handsome, but he was a far better race car driver than he was a baker or a cook, that was for sure.

“Thank you lovie, now we just wait for Carla and Thur and we will be ready to go”

“What would I do without you?” Charles stated, leaning down to press a kiss firmly to your lips as you smiled

“Hmm..probably die of starvation and never know the beauty of Gilmore Girls…”

At this Charles simply laughed, he couldn’t agree more with that, although he could cook a pretty mean toast for breakfast, he knew, better than anyone that he was the luckiest man in the world to be here with you.

Even if he had to share his binge watching duties with his little brother and his girlfriend…but let’s be honest, it couldn’t be that bad.

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certifiedposeidonhater · 13 days ago

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PERCY JACKSON HEADCANONS PART 7 💙💙

1. He is EXTREMELY triggered by the sound of a woman or a child crying (like REALLY triggered)

2. He can’t not finish his food. If there is any food left on his or anybody else’s plate he HAS to eat it. Even if he is already full and feels like one more bite is gonna make him throw up, he has to finish his food. He got that from not having a lot of food growing up that now he feels like he’s wasting food if he doesn’t eat all of it.

3. He HATES doors slamming. It makes him feel like g*be is gonna come from the other room throwing beer bottles at him.

4. He will automatically start crying if any female figure of authority acts like they’re disappointed in him

5. HE IS SUCH A BIG INTROVERT

6. He has a terrible rbf so everybody in his classes and at camp always think he’s super mean until they talk to him and realize he is literally one of the nicest people ever (friendly reminder that he’s not exactly perceived as sassy. To everyone else he’s just the quiet kid who side eyes everyone.)

7. Sometimes his brain goes too fast for his mouth and he starts to stutter. It happened more when he was younger, but sometimes when he’s super nervous or excited it comes out and he hates it. (g*be used to make fun of it. Thalia started joking about it once and Percy got up and left the room (He was about to start crying.))

8. He’s extremely photogenic but hates people taking photos of him

9. He’s told Annabeth before “what if i’m actually a really terrible person and i’ve just manipulated everyone into liking me?”

10. He has a CRAZY high spice tolerance

11. He has fainting spells sometime

12. He can get really insecure about everything about himself. Anything from his body, his looks, his personality, his voice, anything. Annabeth always notices it and always makes sure to reassure him and give him extra love.

13. He is the WORST at taking compliments. e.g. “percy, you looks so pretty!” “yeah, pretty depressed.” or “percy! your eyes are so pretty!” “uh, sure. thanks?” or “percy, you’re actually really smart sometimes!” “i’m not but okay?”

14. He HATES ricotta but loves mozzarella

15. He has a really bad but really good immune system at the same time (he constantly feels sick, but he never rlly gets SICK sick.)

16. He wanted to be a firefighter as a kid

17. He agrees with Luke a LOT MORE than he wants to admit (he brought it up to Nico once (kind of as a joke) but Nico freaked out a bit. Percy knew better than to even mention a little bit of that feeling to Annabeth.)

18. ice cream = safety food (especially butter pecan (he eats it in a mug)) He also LOVES waffles.

19. He CANNOT explain his feelings for the life of him. Annabeth once convinced him to be honest with her about his feeling and he got halfway through a sentence then gave up, shut down, and drowned his sorrows in coffee and ice cream.

20. He experiences major revenge bedtime procrastination

21. He hates night times and mornings.

22. He’ll go on rants sometimes and a lot of the time the people he’s talking to just stop listening. He’ll notice and stop talking. (If Grover or Annabeth are there, they’ll listen.)

23. When he’s giving someone a high five, his hand actually never goes high. He always puts his hand at like waist level with his palm up and stuff.

24. He secretly hopes that sooner or later (hopefully sooner) he will go on a quest and never come back

25. He says sorry A LOT (for things that usually aren’t his fault and he can’t control)

26. Hes really superstitious

27. He gets annoyed super easily when it’s hot (heat rage is REAL yall)

28. HATES the quiet because it gives him too much time to think so he constantly has some sort of show or music playing in the background so it drowns out his thoughts

29. He was alone so much as a kid that he NEEDS alone time to energize himself

30. He has gotten flirted with by 65 yo women (read pedophiles) a LOT

31. He quotes vines CONSTANTLY

32. He walks silently because trauma

33. He’s left handed but writes with his right hand because that’s how he was taught in school

34. He has a great sense of direction but sucks with giving or taking directions

35. He has rejection sensitive dysphoria (even though he automatically assumes that everyone is going to reject him)

36. People will sometimes make jokes about how he must have orthorexia (an eating disorder) because he’s so in shape. It makes him really uncomfortable but he’ll never say anything about it.

37. He won’t eat until everyone else has grabbed what they want because he was so used to growing up with such little food and he always made sure his mom ate before him because he wanted to make sure she got enough

38. He cannot eat in front of someone unless someone is also eating

39. He cannot STAND the sound of his own footsteps because it makes him anxious and triggers his fight or flight response. He feels like someone’s gonna yell at him js for walking (and that’s on trauma 😘)

40. He either responds in 0.5 seconds, or will respond within 3-5 business days (depends on his mood.)

41. He lowkey has mild narcolepsy

42. He hates having to make decisions. big or small.

#heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackson fandom #percy jackson defense squad #justice for percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson deserves better #pjo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson headcanons

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