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sordidmusings · 7 months

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Age Gap (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: for @soft-mafia since she wanted more age gap Buggy! Mostly bulleted like a headcanon but has two little drabbles sprinkled in cuz I couldn't help myself. I will be posting a continuation of this actually writing out the scene mentioned at the end, but I wanted to get this out now.

Word count: ~2.6 k

Warnings: obviously an age gap but the younger one is mentioned to be in their 20s, fem!reader, NSFW mentioned at the end, alcohol consumption, probably (hopefully) silly humor, the touch starved shows hardcore for a second there, tried my best to get Buggy right but you know how it be especially because he exists as an amalgam of LA and anime Buggy in my brain

Now come get y'all dopamine

I imagine you joined Buggy’s crew largely looking for that found family goodness then found out how much you’d never been taken care of and how much you craved it

One day while going through the different acts you were learning from the crew trying to find what stuck, you took a decent fall. Not the kind that breaks bones, but the kind where you just gotta lay there a sec and recalibrate how you got to this point

After some laughter (I mean come on it is a crew curated by Buggy and they could tell it wasn’t serious), the nearby crew surrounded you to check on you. While you were breathlessly saying you’re fine from your position on the floor, they parted to reveal the Captain coming to your side:

Buggy bent down to loom over you. The shadow he cast over your face was a welcome break from the bright overhead lights. You just wished that the way they haloed him didn’t make it so hard to see the laughter on his face.

“Good form! I think we could just throw you around to see you flail like that as your act - you’d be our finest comedy routine.” His voice was thick with sarcasm and giggles. However, his detached arms were gentle when they lifted you from the floor. They changed to posing outstretched with his hands on your shoulders and he walked into them to reattach. He looked you up and down before circling around you, all the while his hands were nudging you this way and that for his inspection. Once he was back at your front, he changed to brushing some dirt from your arms and shoulders. You didn’t speak for fear of interrupting this attention you were receiving from him. He seemed to suddenly snap to clarity anyway.

“RIGHT.” Vocal control? Who is she? Buggy doesn’t know her. “So either get better at what you’re doing or actually fall on purpose. Wouldn’t want you fucking up that money maker.” He was already walking away when one detached hand gave your cheek two brisk pats and he made himself scarce.

It was obvious to you and everyone else how much you ate up his attention. The soft look you were still giving the direction he went in was damn near sickening. It was then you understood your purpose here - becoming Buggy’s spoiled lapdog.

Luckily for you, that was also the moment Buggy realized how his body buzzed when he touched you and how he lit up when you looked up at him with pretty, wide eyes.

Unluckily, he also decided that being near you would lead down a dangerous route of him needing more and more of you and he was positive that he was just being some old creep over a pretty little thing like you.

This led to a game where Buggy would try to keep you at arm’s length while he battled both his own desire to be around you and your seemingly supernatural ability to just appear next to him at all times.

He wasn’t great at the arms distance thing even when he thought he was nailing it because nailing it to him was being in his natural space as the center of attention and only checking (immediately and desperately) that you were watching and approving of whatever he was doing. The way his head would always snap to you for your reaction was neither subtle nor discouraging to your rapidly growing infatuation.

You decided that orbiting his personal space wasn’t working well enough. Sure, he’d give you a hit of what you wanted with some fleeting touches and mostly disguised compliments but you needed more. Hurting yourself intentionally so that he would take care of you didn’t seem like a sustainable option, so you settled on playing his own game. Time to practice owning a room.

This could be a dangerous game to play. You were certain that blatantly taking the spotlight would just make him upset with you not that you’d mind him taking that out on you. You settled on more subtle things like spreading your attention more through the crew instead of mostly on him, being more focused and daring in your training, participating more in the many games that broke out when the alcohol did, and dressing a bit more intentionally (whether that’s flashier colors, eye-catching accessories, bold makeup, new or intricate hairstyles, etc.)

The boldest card you played was feeding more into any of the flirting you received.

He has a freak show, yes, but have you ever seen how fine circus performers are?? Full fun costumes are It and also the tasks they have to perform either help them get conventionally attractive bodies and/or the rizz that comes with performing feats (just look at the traction Fryboy has gained with women like damn why he kinda-). Due to that, you’re around attractive people all the time.

While the flirting is for the purpose of pushing Buggy’s buttons, you must admit that it wasn’t a hard habit to keep up and may help inflate your ego.

Your attempts have mixed results. Buggy’s desire to claim you grew but so did his insecurity

In his mind, you look more natural next to one of the younger lookers in his crew while he’s certain the pair of you must look ridiculous together. It’s this very insecurity that’s gonna make it necessary for you to bluntly and shamelessly throw yourself at him both repeatedly and with no room for questions:

You have no clue what else you can do to get through that thick skull of his. You’re on your knees, quite literally at that. You figured that kneeling in front of that circus throne while he’s laid himself all over it would be enough to break the man. Enough to break any man, really, but he’s still finding ways to deflect you.

Buggy nodded his head to a nearby open seat. “You know they made chairs to be comfortable and your dumb ass is on the floor. That drunk already?” he snorted. Maybe choosing to do this during one of the many celebrations (you think this one is for one week of no one pregaming for show runs. ironic.) was a bad idea. You had been banking on some drinks loosening up whatever was holding him back. It always made you snicker when you entertained the idea of it being from a sense of propriety. Checking in on the situation, you could see how all the chaos going on around you two made it easier for him to keep his eyes off of you and his ears unfocused. Earlier, you had counted it as a plus that working up a buzz would help you bulldoze through his stubbornness. You had forgotten that any alcohol in your system would make for the perfect excuse for him to write you off.

“I’ve barely started my third drink,” you started with a pout, “and I’d be ashamed if that’s enough to get me drunk after all the time spent on your crew.”

“Then you are just being stupid.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. Okay. Attention didn’t work. Compliments didn’t work. Kneeling didn’t work. Time for some big guns.

You shifted to the side so you’d be sitting towards your left hip with your bent legs beside you. Your drink found its way to your right hand but, most importantly, your chin found its way onto Buggy’s left knee. It brought you so close to where you’d really like to put yourself to work, and, man, was the temptation strong with the way his right leg was slung over the armrest of his seat. How did he expect you to stay away when he was serving himself up on a platter like this?

Buggy was definitely giving you his undivided attention now. His gaze was dark and slightly accusatory. The lighting matched with his makeup made him look more dangerous than usual. The nerves it sent through you might have had you back right off. Instead you held your ground because you saw his pulse hammer against his neck. You saw his throat bob as he swallowed. You saw his pink tongue contrast with red as he licked his lips and gave a shaky exhale.

While you were starting to settle into your bold move, Buggy was becoming more and more antsy. His grip on his glass became white-knuckled under his gloves, and he tried to give himself time to think by taking a huge gulp of his drink. Why did you have to look at him like that? So pleading? The angle from his lap made your lashes darken your eyes and it was impossible for him to keep the image of your hooded gaze about a foot closer to him out of his head. What did you want from him? You’d denied his accusations about money or intel so what the fuck could it be? Was this a game? Get in the pants of the Captain for preferential treatment and go back to whoever else you had in your palm on the crew to laugh about him falling for it?

You noticed his mood turning sour so you decided to interrupt whatever was tumbling around his head. “I think I could get much more comfy right here.” To prove a point, you dragged your chin to his inner thigh, right above his knee, and snuggled your cheek into his leg. His pants weren’t the softest against your skin but he was so addictingly warm through them. Your eyes briefly fluttered shut to enjoy the sensation before you looked back up at him and flirtatiously said, “I’m comfiest next to you.”

His hands itched with the need to grab you by the hair and force your face right where he needed you. Instead he scoffed at you. “Suuuuure. And why’s that, princess?”

“You make me smile,” you admitted immediately. His startled gaze met your lovesick one and you realized what you said and how quickly you said it. Too close to emotionally vulnerable; time to backtrack a touch. You want to get the role as his trophy before you even attempt to approach the title of Love of His Life. “You also said that you take care of your crew and I’m on your crew, right? So you’ll take care of me.”

The cheeky smile you spoke through melted him. An achingly deep sigh left him while his right hand detached from the arm to deposit his drink on the floor next to you. Quickly, it flew back to its limb. Both of your hearts pumped fire through your chests as he reached that hand out towards you. Buggy took his time stroking his fingers from your forehead into your hair. When his palm came down to join the gesture, you were very happy to realize that his hand was just as warm as the thigh still under your cheek. You shuffled closer so your legs squeezed in between his foot and the left leg of his throne. Buggy shuddered when he felt your fingertips graze the back of his calf and spread out like a star so you could grab it. Using your new grip, you snuggled more firmly into his leg and let yourself buzz off of getting this new touch from your Captain.

Ulterior motives be damned, Buggy couldn’t give them any credence when you looked so happy to sit at his feet and receive such a simple touch. He should probably laugh and call you a needy puppy to regain some control over the situation. Instead, he slipped his hand down the side of your head. He massaged his fingertips into the base of your skull and said, “I’ll take care of you, little star.”

Once he has accepted that you’re serious there will be jokes about the dynamic but do not be fooled - he can only dish it out and WILL spiral if he receives any type of comment about how much older he is (the word geriatric is punishable by death)

Sometimes the joke is him patronizingly treating you like a child (you almost socked him right there at the dinner table when some food came at your face with accompanying airplane noises)

Sometimes it’s calling you a gold digger (“then where’s my allowance, huh?” “OH so my gIFTS AREN’T ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW? YOU were the one ACTUALLY CRYING over me buying you that wonky ass stuffed seal with the lopsided face!!” “HIS NAME IS JERRY AND YOU WILL SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT”)

Sometimes it’s just dumb shit like pointing at the type of girl’s clothing store that has made a contract with God to own all the pinks and pastels the world has to offer before turning to you straight faced and asking if you want to stop in to look. Any way this man can think to goof, he will.

And it’s tooooootally a coping mechanism to process the fact that he’s nearly forty and dating a twenty-something and not at all because joking around with you has become one of his basic survival needs

The dynamic ends up helping both of y’all feel special - you have a hot, boisterous, spotlight-stealing pirate captain pampering (and then making a mess of) you while he gets a beautiful, capable, eye-catching young thing looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky

Nothing goes to Buggy’s head more than when you walk into a room full of people, attractive ones especially, and only see him.

He loves anything that makes it obvious to others that you are his, whether that's him draped over you, you draped over him, red stains on the back of your hands, your shoulders, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, having his jolly roger on your outfit, having you in his hat or coat

This very much extends to him wanting anyone and everyone to overhear you in the bedroom. Everyone should know you're his and he's the only one who can make you feel so good

Don't worry, they'll also get the message that he's yours from all the moaning and praises

He gives you endless pet names but always comes back to “sweet stuff”, “sweets”, “princess”, “star”, “prima donna” (affectionate), “prima donna” (derogatory), and anything preceded by “little” (“little showstopper”, “little tease”, very rarely “little girl” if he feels especially like exerting power over you)

He prides himself on making you feel cared for and safe. Instead of feeling like a chore he has to do because he’s in the ‘older man’ role, he loves the way you preen under his attention and how you happily return the favor.

When in the Cross Guild Era, Buggy started going to all meetings with you by his side then on his thigh. It was a good defensive strategy because the other two seemed more hesitant to throttle him if you were in the way, but lets be real this man is also clingy and loves showing you off too.

At first he found it offensive that Mihawk and Croc were so disbelieving at the sight of you happily perched on your captain’s lap but then it made him the smuggest motherfucker when he would see their eyes trail over you knowing that they can only look and he can touch however he wants. This leads to him pushing until he hit your boundary at leaving very visible marks on you

One time he fucked you stupid right before a meeting so that you wouldn’t think about the bite mark surrounded by red makeup that kept playing peekaboo with your shirt collar (or the red smears between your thighs that showed whenever you shifted your legs)

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #opla buggy #buggy x you #buggy x y/n #my writing #fem reader #afab reader #x reader

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joels-shitty-puns · 6 months

Note

I'm gonna make a request again (sorry your last one was too good for me not to ask again) but this time for a jealous Joel! Maybe the reader and him have been friends for a while and she's oblivious to his flirting and she finally lands a date? How it goes from there can be up to you! I just love the jealous and possessive trope.

The Jealousy Bug

Pairing: Jealous!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Hi!! I'm so sorry this took me so long to write, but thank you for the request!! I hope you like it!! I got a lil carried away... hope its not too much smut.

~~~~~

(Reader and Joel live in Jackson, amid the apocalypse)

Word count: 6.8K (oof)

Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI!! Smut smut smut. P in V sex (likely unprotected but not specified. Its an apocalypse, yo.), masturbation (m and f), sort of dubcon? voyeurism?? sorta?, kissing, talk of genitals and arousal, horny behavior. Explicit language and mean names. Alcohol. Violence: infected, guns, punching, mention of a knife. Joel is kind of a jerk sometimes. Possessive. Mentions of loss and grief (all within S.1 of TLOU). I haven't played part II yet so we're just gonna ignore what we know happens there. Joel and Ellie are happy in Jackson. Joel and Reader are friends and sort of neighbors. Clueless idiots in love. A total asshole of a guy in the town. Lil bit of fluff/romance? Mention of bugs (pill bugs), but not in a gross way. If I missed anything, please let me know, and I apologize!

Other Stuff: Avoidance of reader descriptors, other than reader is AFAB. Mentions of having hair on the noggin. She/her pronouns. Reader is clueless and also clumsy as hell. Reader also drinks coffee and alcohol. Italics indicate thoughts.

__________

It was around 4PM when you filed into the community center for another mandatory patrol meeting. It may be an apocalypse, but even now, you wished this meeting could have been an email instead. Alas, that was a thing of the past, and you were unfortunately stuck listening to the usual spiel about necessary vs. unnecessary items to raid… The importance of remembering to ABC, “Always Be Cautious,” plants that can and can't be eaten, etc.

You sat in your usual spot, the back row next to Joel Miller. A year ago when you first moved to this town, first started patrol, you came into this very room not knowing anyone. Friend groups stuck together, each of the two front rows filled, yet a few empty spaces here and there. Instead, you walked towards the back of the room. A handsome man, who you soon learned was named Joel, sat by himself, three rows back, behind the last full aisle. He was alone. The whole aisle of chairs was empty. He sat with his arms crossed, and you could tell based on his posing that he was not the social type.

You were feeling a bit nervous, having finally found a sort of civilization in this mess, and hoping the people of Jackson accept you and not just shoot you, like most camps do when they see unknown faces. Unsure where to sit, you continued to head towards the back, slightly drawn to the gorgeous gray-haired man in the last row. Not wanting to intrude, you sat at the far end from Joel. You could feel his eyes on you as you sat, but you didn't dare look over and make eye contact. Years of survival instincts have told you that, especially when someone doesn't want to be bothered.

_____

When you first walked into the room, Joel looked up. He sat in the back row, as usual, not wanting to get close to anyone. However, even if he did, nobody gave him the time of day. They have heard stories of what he’s done, they have seen him around town, often grumbling about something. They could tell he wanted to be left alone and they had no interest in testing how badly he wanted to be left alone.

Joel found it easier to not form connections. Tommy kept telling him to make friends, come around more, socialize in the town. But Joel had learned over the years why making connections never ends well. All he has is Tommy and Ellie, and neither of those were his initial decision, but Tommy is his only family, and somehow he let himself care for Ellie.

But when Joel saw you… there was a flash of longing. He saw you smile gently at Tommy with a small wave. He could see you shrink walking to your seat past the cliques. You were beautiful, and if it were pre-pandemic, you'd be the exact type he'd probably take interest to.

But those days are over.

Or… so he thought.

He set his eyes back down on his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with you when you sat down at the end of the row from him.

Why did she sit so far away? Am I that horrible to be around? His heart questioned.

You don't want to be near people anyway. Good she sat far away. Leave me alone. His brain tried to argue.

Tommy droned on and on, the meeting nearing an hour by now, and you could feel Joel’s eyes on the side of your face every few minutes. You don't know why he kept staring, but it made you feel nervous. Did you have something on your face or clothes? Did you smell bad?

Tommy knew his brother well, sometimes more than Joel likes to admit out loud, and as he talked, he took note of Joel’s staring. At first his expression looked confused, maybe irritated or disgusted. Then it looked slightly… disappointed. But he kept stealing glances your direction, and so with a smirk, Tommy assigned the two of you to be on patrol together. Joel questioned his reasoning afterward, but he knew there was no point arguing with his brother.

After that day, you patrolled together. You both went to the bar with the group after meetings. You sat closer and closer to Joel. You managed to get some words out of him, and he listened to you chatter on. But it was when you brought him a cup of coffee before patrol one morning that he finally let down his guard. His heart had betrayed his defenses.

“What's this?” He asked, gruffly.

“Coffee, Joel…” you replied with a joking eye roll. “It's black. I know you don't like anything in it.”

He took a sip, shocked to taste that you actually knew how he took his coffee. “How did you know that?”

“I notice things Joel.” You patted his shoulder, walking towards the group.

_____

Now, a year later, the two of you were very close friends. You still surprised him with things you remembered or noticed, but much to his chagrin, the one thing you didn't pick up on were his advances. He'd call you pet names, be sweet to you, treat you like a gentleman, flirt a little, and it was like talking to a robot. You were clueless.

Tonight's meeting finally ended, the large group heading outside to the chill fall air. “You wanna get drinks with the patrol squad?” you asked Joel.

“Wouldn't miss it,” he winked at you, putting his leather jacket on his shoulders.

Although you went as a group, ultimately you and Joel spent most of the nights in your own little bubble, occasionally making space in your circle for Tommy, or Maria if she joined.

Tonight, the two of you sat at the bar, the patrol group spread throughout the room at different tables. Joel excused himself to use the restroom, and while he was gone, Jimmy, one of the other patrol members approached you. Hurrying before Joel returned, he flirted and asked you out on a date. You told him you'd think about it, that you weren't sure if you were ready for a relationship after years of caution.

Not technically a lie, you thought. Although you really just weren't ready for a relationship because your heart was already taken by your handsome best friend.

Joel returned just in time to see Jimmy walking away. “What did he want?” Joel grumbled. “Ah nothin, just wanted to say hi while getting a drink,” you lied. Joel accepted this answer and the two of you drank into the night. At the end of the evening, you seemed pretty drunk. Jimmy offered to walk you home, but before you had a chance to reply, Joel replied for you.

“I'll take her home, thanks.” He bit, turning you away from Jimmy. “I don't like the idea of that boy walkin’ you home. Don't trust ‘im. ‘Specially not when you're in this condition,” he wrapped an arm around you, shuffling you toward the door.

“You don't think I can handle myself, Joel?” You asked him, pulling away, a little bit irritated at him treating you like a weakling. “I seem to do just fine on patrol,” you argued.

“I know that, sugar. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't trust that guy. Heard how he goes through women. Don't want him trying’ anything with you,” he brushed his hand over your hair, causing you to soften at his words and actions.

You gasped lightly. “Is THE Joel Miller… jealous?” You knew he wasn't, but why not test the waters?

“What? Jealous? Of what? No ‘m not.” he balked. “Just lookin’ out for you…”

“Mmhm… you just wanna be the only big strong man walking me home, huh?” You teased, tripping over your own feet.

Joel caught you in his arms. “Big strong man, huh? ‘S that what you think of me?”

Shit… did I say that? You panicked. Maybe I'm more drunk than I thought…

Deciding to tease it off, you replied, “well you do always seem to catch me when I fall…” with a wink.

Falling in more ways than one… you thought, frustrated.

He rubbed his neck with the hand not holding you upright. You could almost see a pink tinge to his cheeks.

No, that has to be the lights playing tricks on my eyes… you thought. No way Joel Miller was blushing at your words.

“I kinda have to, ya big klutz. Practically a liability. I oughta tell Tommy to add a safety section on patrolling with you,” he bantered.

“Ah, shut up” you laughed with a push, causing yourself to lose balance instead of Joel. He just gave a knowing look, causing you both to laugh as you continued walking, now side by side instead of him holding you up.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “You know, I could've walked myself home, Joel,” you stumbled, giggling.

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you again, propping you up. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get you home. You've had way too much to drink.”

“You're so sweet Joel,” you pouted at him, booping his nose. “Joelly Joel.” You giggled. “Jolly Joelly.” Another giggle. “I dunno why people think you're so grumpy. I think you're just a big teddy bear,” you closed your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder while he stumbled forward, trying to keep you upright.

“Who says I'm grumpy, darlin’?” He tilted his head towards you, smirking. “The whole town, silly. Silly Joelly. Joely-poly.” You gasped abruptly, causing Joel to jerk and turn to face you. “What? What is it?” His hand reached for his knife on his hip. Old habits die hard.

“Joely-poly!!” You squealed. “Awe! Roly-polies. Remember those!? I used to love them when I was little.” You pouted. “Before this whole world went to shit.”

Joel thought back to the little pill bugs, playing in the dirt with them when he was younger. Teaching his own daughter about them. His heart aches for what he lost, but he also thinks of Ellie. He bets she would love the little bugs too.

“That's a cute nickname for you,” you smiled. “They're so cute. Just,” you booped his nose. “Like.” Boop. “You,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Another gasp from your lips.

He flinched again. “Darlin’, if you don't quit that I swear-”

“Joeeeel!” You pouted. “Do you think the roly-polies all died off with the infection!?” Your eyes welled up.

“Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. There's probably still some out there. Bugs could get cordyceps long before the fungus attacked humans, and they were still alive back then.” You looked up into his deep brown eyes through your fluttering lashes. “You really think so?” You leaned in, placing both your hands on his cheeks. His breath caught in his chest. “Darlin’, you drank a lot tonight-” you cut off his sentence, running your hands down his neck, resting your palms on his chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute. If he didn't know better, he'd worry his heart would leap out and fly away.

Your eyes lit up and you slid off his chest, lowering clumsily to the ground and gripping his sides for balance. You were now on your knees, eye level with his crotch, hands on his hips. His breath was ragged and his stomach full of twirling butterflies. “Wh-what do you think you're doin’?” He asked nervously. You looked up at him with big eyes, your hands slowly falling down from his hips to his thighs as you tried to balance yourself in your drunken state. He couldn't help but feel his pants begin to tent at the position you were in. He would never take advantage of you in your current state, but trying to ignore the desire brewing in his body after so many months of unrequited feelings was challenging. Did you finally see his advances for what they were? Feelings instead of friendliness?

You grinned up at him, finally regaining balance. “I'm gonna go look for ‘em!” you turned and waddled away on your knees, heading a couple feet away, towards a patch of flowers off the path.

She just needed to use me as a ladder, or what…? Joel thought to himself with a sigh and shaking his head in disappointment, his sexual frustration at its breaking point.

You crawled forward, falling onto your hands and knees in the soft dirt. Joel quickly stepped forward to try and grab you but realized, despite your lack of grace, you meant to do that. “Ugh… darlin', it's dark out here. It's cold. You're drunk. Let's get you home.”

“I'm looking for buggies, Joel!!” You leaned towards a leaf, arching downward so that your face was closer to the ground, ass up.

“Oh, have mercy…” Joel groaned under his breath, his eyes drifting downward. Your ass was up in the air, facing him, the fabric of your dress having fallen forward towards your front. Your light pink panties were on full display for Joel, leaving little to his imagination in this position. Joel subtly adjusted his pants, looking up to the sky and shaking his head in a silent plea.

You whined. “Joel, I don't see any.” You leaned farther forward, wiggling your butt somehow higher. Joel looked around, panicked at the thought that someone else might see you in this position. But luckily, you were close to your house and it was just the two of you out here. He turned back to you again. “I think it's time you get up and we go in-” you moved further forward, the streetlight shining above you and illuminating your ass. Joel tried to be a gentleman, but his eyes betrayed him. As he snuck another glance, he couldn't help but notice a little wet spot over the crotch of your panties. “In-inside…” he finished his sentence, words catching in his throat. He gulped, trying to divert his eyes.

Taking a shaky breath and stepping forward, trying to ignore the throbbing need in his pants, he lightly grabbed your arm. “It's time to go sweetheart. The bugs are sleepin’ I think.”

You looked at him and smiled mischievously. “I know, Joel,” you winked. Jumping up, you scampered towards your house, leaving Joel to wonder what the hell just happened.

“Woman's gonna be the death of me,” Joel muttered under his breath to himself. He caught up to you, just as you both approached your house. “Joel, I don't wanna go home. Can't I stay with you? And Ellie?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He rubbed his neck. “Ellie's with a friend tonight. But, you do have a point. You probably shouldn't be left by yourself in this state. Don't want you gettin’ hurt, or sick, and bein’ all alone.”

“Such a gentleman, Joel.” You touched his bicep, the two of you walking towards Joel's house across the street.

Hardly, he thought, grimacing at the reason he was aching in his trousers, feeling like an old creep, and a terrible excuse for a friend.

Once inside Joel's house, he gave you a baggy sleep shirt and a glass of water with some crackers to help with the alcohol. You changed, brushed your teeth with a spare toothbrush, and used the restroom. He let you have his bed, while he took the couch down the hall, scrunching his legs up to barely fit.

_____

Joel tried his hardest to ignore what he saw earlier and just go to bed, but the aching only continued, making it impossible to sleep. Sure that you must have fallen asleep by now, tucked away in his bed down the hall, he quietly reached into his pajama bottoms and boxers, pulling out his rock-hard penis. Even the mere touch of removing himself from his pants caused him to hiss, so worked up he could have cum just watching you bent over earlier.

He was a gentleman, but he was still a man, and one that hadn't been with a woman in a very long time. With as many people as he'd lost by one means or another, he'd told himself he wouldn't get close to anyone else. Sarah's mom. Sarah. Tess. Bill and Frank. Sam and Henry. He almost thought he had lost Tommy before Jackson, too. It was against his wishes that Ellie crawled her way into his heart, and then he almost lost her as well. He was beginning to think maybe it was him. He was cursed, doomed to have anyone he loved ripped away from him.

Which is why when you came to Jackson, he tried his best to ignore you. But you always greeted him, cheerful and sweet, like a little ball of sunshine that was somehow untarnished by the storm clouds of an apocalypse.

He was irritated to realize that he had made room in his heart for you. You caused an ache in his heart that yearned to be filled. A missing piece in his soul. A place for him to someday fit, tangled between sheets and loving words. It had been about a year since you moved to Jackson, and he still feared getting too close to you, yet he would try his hardest to woo you the way a gentleman should. Sweet nicknames, flirting, gentle touches. You never picked up on it. Whether or not you felt the same, he stupidly fell in love. Unsure if it was mutual, yet pretty sure it wasn't after all this time, he tried to ignore the dirty thoughts revolving around you when the late-night urges would hit him. Somehow it felt wrong.

But tonight, it was hard to avoid. Having you touch him. His face, his neck, his chest, his hips, his thighs. Kneeling eye level with his crotch. Slinking away, sticking your barely covered ass in the air, letting your wet panties be shown to him and only him. He couldn't get you out of his head as he stroked himself. First slowly, but then harder and faster, trying to reach his climax with the thought of him burying himself in that sweet spot underneath your wet underwear. How he longed to see you with his own eyes, begging for him.

He tried to be quiet, to keep himself hidden from you down the hall, but the noise of skin on skin grew slightly louder with each of his quiet moans and panting breaths that managed to slip from his lips. Imagining himself buried deep inside you, taking you from behind in the same position he saw you in earlier, imagining the tight grip around him and the slick noises he could only fantasize about. He could practically hear you moaning and sighing, the sound seeping from his subconscious to the living room. He pumped harder, swirling his thumb around the head, drooling with precum, as his climax grew closer. He could feel his strokes becoming less controlled and his balls pulling upward as he began to shoot load after load of white hot release up under his shirt onto his stomach. Stroking himself through it, he milked his last few ropes of cum out before laying back to catch his breath, slowly tucking himself back away in his pants.

Coming back to his senses, he realized the sounds of your moans and whimpers that he was imagining were still happening. Taken out of his fantasies when he finished, there was no reason for the sounds to still be in his head. Needing to grab a cloth from the linen closet down the hall anyway, he walked, nearing his bedroom door, and heard the unmistakable sound of you pleasuring yourself. Quietly, he padded down the hallway, closer to the door. He could tell you were trying to be quiet, but could still hear you, soft whimpers and pants, surrounded by wet schlick noises.

Fuck, he thought. He could feel himself already getting excited again, despite having just released a few minutes ago. He desperately wanted to join you in his bed, or at the least, stand by the door and listen to your sounds while pleasuring himself, but he wasn't going to be a creep, nor scare you to death. You were still his friend. Even if he did want to move the couch across the living room to hear you better.

_____

Meanwhile in Joel's room, you had tried to sleep. You really had. But tossing and turning, each roll causing your nose to be surrounded with his scent, you were thrown into a frenzy, like an animal in heat. Each smell of his cologne, shaving cream, deodorant, and natural body scent that you picked up from his bed sent a wave of arousal directly to your core. You wondered how many times he'd pleasured himself in this bed and how frequently. You wondered if he ever thought of you while doing it, imagining himself buried deep to the hilt inside of you, each drag of his cock more perfect than the last, much like you were imagining now.

You would be lying if you didn't say there were a lot of handsome men in Jackson. Granted, you had been without romance for a very long time, but still. Many of them were single, and some of them were very sweet and friendly. Yet for some strange reason, your heart had been drawn to Joel. The first moment you saw him, with his silvery curls and his grumpy face, his shining brown eyes and his patched beard, you were smitten. You were a bit disappointed that he seemed to be a massive grump, but despite what everyone said, he was always nice to you. Granted, you were always nice to him, so why should he be anything less, right?

He was always a total gentleman, calling you names like darlin’ and sweetheart, his southern drawl pulling you in like a lasso. His care for his unofficially-adopted daughter warmed your heart, and you could see he was a real family man from both their relationship, and the one he shared with his brother. It warmed your heart, especially when you befriended Tommy and Ellie, getting to hear them talk about Joel. Seeing the love they feel, even if they give him a hard time sometimes. You didn't see how people felt Joel was cruel or heartless, even with the stories you heard. Times were rough, and people did what they had to for survival.

You were always too chicken to make a move, and you figured he wouldn't be interested anyway. Surely him calling you those names and being sweet with you was just his Southern gentlemanly nature, right? You were nice to him, he was nice to you.

So tonight, when Jimmy, the local heartthrob in town, asked you on a date, you told him you'd think about it and let him know. Yeah, you claimed you weren't sure how you felt about relationships after all the world had become. Truth was, you wanted a last chance with Joel before throwing in the towel and settling for Jimmy.

Sure, Jimmy was handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes, rugged, yet boyish. Several of the women in town had crushes on him, and he had had several of the women in town. You weren't clueless to the rumors about his playboy behavior. But it had been a while and well, you weren't getting any younger. It might be nice to have a partner, even if he did only want a short little fling.

So throwing back a few drinks, you decided you needed the liquid courage to finally make a move at Joel. One last effort to get his attention. You still didn't want to say anything to him, lest it ruin your current friendship that had grown so strong, but you could certainly use your body to entice a little. Drinking just enough to be brave, yet not so drunk that you were completely out of it, you gave an impression you were much drunker than you were, and needed Joel to help you out. Jimmy had almost been the one to walk you home, to your disappointment, before Joel stepped in, seeming slightly irritated about Jimmy's offer.

Yet after practically waving your ass in his face, showing him your panties (which you were sure looked wet), being inches from his crotch at knee height, and hanging on him all the way home, to now sleeping in his house and his bed, you were quite sure he didn't feel the same. Obviously his gestures were pure gentlemanly charm if he didn't bite after tonight's show.

So you tried to sleep, still a little drunk, but getting drunker off his scent. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs but the thought of him in this bed, groaning as his hand pumped his member to completion, made you throb. Soaked and antsy, you finally gave in and stuck your hand under the waistband of your panties. You let your imagination run wild, picturing him taking you in this bed, bringing you to bliss more than once. You could practically hear him groaning and panting, the sound seeping from your subconscious to the bedroom.

Tomorrow you would likely tell Jimmy yes. But tonight, you would try your best to get Joel out of your system, one stroke of your fingers at a time. But as you finished, coming with a whisper of Joel's name under your breath, you could still hear the groans and pants from Joel. Climbing out of bed, you moved to the door, pressing your ear against it. You could just barely hear the sounds of him panting and groaning, intermittent with the fapping of skin on skin. Delightedly surprised, you listened harder, feeling your pussy drool at the thought. How desperately you wanted to go out into the living room and climb on top of him. But he might not want that… he probably just couldn't sleep. Probably nothing to do with the scene you put on earlier. So instead, you slinked back to his bed, opting for round two.

At some point, the two of you fell asleep, panting and writhing with the self-induced pleasure, and the sound of each other through the door.

_____

The next morning, you awoke, walking down the hall to see Joel in his pajama bottoms and no shirt, making coffee. Your eyes scanned his broad shoulders and back, naked and tan. Bringing you back to last night's events, you felt your breath catching in your chest.

“M-morning” you stuttered out, nervously.

Joel jumped, having not heard you. He turned, greeting you with a good morning. A faint blush crept across his cheeks and he quickly turned his head to pour a cup of coffee, offering you some as well. Thanking him, the two of you sipped in silence, both stealing glances at the other and thinking of the night before. Both of you felt like you had a dirty little secret the other didn't know.

“Thanks again for taking care of me last night,” you added. In more ways than one, you thought.

“Of course, darlin’. Couldn't have you walkin’ home all alone or getting sick in the middle of the night. You're always welcome here,” he smiled.

“Well, I guess I better head to my house now,” you sighed. “See you later at patrol?”

“Course. Take care, sugar.” He brushed his hand over your arm. That's new… you thought. But still, probably friendly, unfortunately.

____

Hours later, you show up to patrol, noticing Joel hasn't arrived yet. Still a few minutes early, you look at the map, thinking over the route. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned around to see Jimmy.

“Hey, Jimmy,” you greeted, feeling slightly awkward. You assumed he probably wanted (and deserved) an answer. You rubbed your arm nervously, staring at the ground, wondering what to tell him. He was handsome, you thought, and you weren't getting anywhere with Joel.

“Did you, uh” Jimmy scratched behind his ear, “give any more thought to that date?”

Geesh. Not a lot of thinking time here…

“I did,” you replied. “I think… My answer is yes. I'll go out with you.” You felt a pang of regret in your stomach, but you wanted a connection, and you just weren't getting that from Joel, despite what you wanted to think from last night.

Jimmy grinned. “Really?” He picked up your hand, holding it in his. “That's great. I know you have patrol today, but maybe Friday? I'll meet you at your house at 6?”

“Sure,” you gave a small fake smile. “Sounds great.” He still held your hand, warm and soft and nothing like the rugged, large, callused hands of hard-working Joel. Although Joel has never held your hand, the times he's touched your arms, or held you up on your walk from the bar, he left a trail of goosebumps and butterflies in his wake, despite being warm to the touch.

Jimmy went to kiss your hand, just as Joel walked up. “What’s goin’ on here, huh?” He asked, seeming almost… angry, looking from Jimmy, to your connected hands, over to your face. “Joel,” Jimmy dropped your hand, giving Joel a curt nod.

“Jimmy..” Joel replied, teeth clenched.

“I'll see you Friday,” Jimmy smiled at you, touching your shoulder before walking away.

“What did that little asshole want?” Joel growled.

“Geez Joel, chill out. What's your problem? I'm not allowed to talk to people?” You crossed your arms.

“I toldja last night. I don't trust that kid. Too busy sleepin’ around with the whole town. What's he talkin’ to you for?” Joel furrowed his brow, looking over at Jimmy across the room, now talking to some of the other patrolmen.

“Gosh Joel.. seriously what is wrong with you? First of all, he's hardly a kid. He's at least in his thirties. Second of all, everyone he's been with, I'm sure has been consensual, otherwise Tommy would have kicked him out of the town. And lastly, but probably more important. What do you mean “what is he talking to you for?” You mocked in a deep voice. “Like I'm the only option he has left? Like I'm not deserving of a man talking to me? Not that it’s any of your business, friend, but for your information, Jimmy is taking me on a date on Friday. So fuck off, Joel.” You started to stomp away angrily, grabbing your pack off the desk.

“The fuck he is,” Joel muttered under his breath, so quiet you didn't hear and grabbing his pack as well.

_____

Five hours. Five hours of riding in complete silence, checking out abandoned buildings in complete silence, and taking breaks in complete silence. Even your first patrol wasn't this quiet, and you couldn't help but feel like he was somehow angry at you.

As irritated as you were with him, not talking to him somehow felt worse. This wasn't like him. Is this the grumpy side everyone talks about? Is this Joel, the asshole you have yet to meet?

Feeling confused, your eyes started to cloud, slightly teary with anger and sadness, yet also a bit of dread at going out with Jimmy. You blinked your eyes, sorting through the abandoned drug store you and Joel were in.

Finding some condoms on a shelf, you threw them in your pack. “What're you doin’?” Joel asked. “Those can't be sold, didn't you pay attention to Tommy? They're rarely effective this old.”

“Yes I paid attention, Joel. I know they can't be sold. They're for me. I figured it's better than nothing,” you replied bitterly. “I have a date in a couple days, I want to be prepared,” you scowled. Joel’s jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything, instead turning to look the other direction of the aisle.

Crouched down to search the bottom shelf for other items, Joel was still turned away from you, keeping lookout on the other end of the aisle.

You didn't even hear the stalker leap around the corner from the shadows and pounce on you. It opened its mouth, fungal strands spreading from its mouth towards your face. Pure fear pulsed through your veins.

“Joel!!!!!” You cried out, using all your strength to try and push the infected off of your body, but it was too strong.

You screamed and kicked, struggling to break free, when Joel fired his shotgun, shooting the enemy in the head and immediately running over to you. Throwing the infected off of your body as if it was weightless, Joel scooped you into his arms. His lips moved but you heard nothing. Your ears rang, high pitched squeals from adrenaline, fear, shock, and the bang of the shotgun.

Joel pawed over your body, roughly inspecting you for bites and wounds in a frenzy. When he didn't find any, he held you in his arms again. “It's okay baby, it's okay. You're alright sweetheart. Come back to me, it's okay. You're okay.” Your hearing must have returned. He rocked you, tears welling from your eyes and his. “You're okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” He kissed your ear and the side of your head, still rocking you in a hug, sitting on the floor, inches from the now-dead infected. The two of you needed to get out of here, but neither of you could move yet.

Finally you spoke. “Why are you sorry Joel?” You asked with a sniffle. You wrapped your arm around his back, the other hand finding the back of his head, gripping his curls gently.

“I'm sorry for how I've been actin’ all day. I'm sorry I didn't see that stalker before he attacked. I'm sorry for being so possessive earlier. I'm sorry,” he held you tighter.

You pulled back to look into his eyes. “Joel, you couldn't have heard or seen that stalker. That's what they do best. You saved me and that's all that matters. As for earlier, you were being an asshole, and it did really hurt my feelings. All this time people have said you're such a jerk, and I didn't see it,” you pulled away from his grip, “but today I did.” You looked at your lap. “Don't I deserve to go on a date? Don't I deserve to have someone love me?” You picked at the hem of your pants, avoiding his eye contact.

“Oh, darlin', I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to feel that way. I just - you deserve something real, not a hookup like that guy wants. I know his type. He'll sleep with you and toss you aside. You deserve to be treated like a lady.”

You snorted. “Yeah, Joel. That's how things are nowadays, too. Gentleman just waiting to sweep me off my feet. Shit, you literally just saved me from near-death, something that happens all the time today, and yet you're saying I deserve love? To find romance? Yeah, right.”

Joel didn't say anything. He just looked into your eyes, lips pursed and moving to the side in thought. His eyes drifted to your lips and back up to your sight.

You continued. “I don't even like Jimmy,” you said quietly. “I like someone else, but I just got tired of waiting and wanted some kind of connection. Even if it's just a night in bed.” At the last part of your sentence, Joel grimaced, almost in pain. And then he thought.

“Wait,” he sat back a little, scanning your face. “Who do you like?”

You gulped. Why not a little more adrenaline? “Well, it was you, until you started acting like an asshole. But I realized you probably didn't feel the same way a while ago. Especially after I practically threw myself at you last night.”

“Threw yourself at me last night? What are you talkin’ about? You were drunk,” Joel answered.

“I wasn't that drunk, Joel. My movements were pretty planned. The placement of my touches on your body. My ass angled up in your direction. I wanted you,” you added, pointedly.

Joel looked like he was solving a complicated math problem. “So you… last night when you… I heard you, in bed, pleasurin’ yourself. Were you… thinking about me?”

You looked up at him in shock and panic. “You heard me?” You asked in a frantic whisper.

“Yeah, I uh… I did. I got up to get a towel and heard your uh… sounds” he cleared his throat.

“I guess I should tell you then that I heard you too,” you said with a smirk.

Joel swallowed, hard. “Y-ya heard me?”

“Yep” you replied, popping your lips on the p sound.

Joel had nothing to lose at this point. “I was thinking about you,” he proclaimed. “Thinkin’ bout that wet spot on your panties when you flashed your ass in the air. Wishin’ I was buried inside you.” He ran his hand across your thigh.

Your breathing picked up. “I was thinking about you too. Wishing you'd bust through that door and take me in your bed, running my nails down your back as we came together…” you mimicked the motion with your fingers down his jacket-clad back.

“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing. You glanced down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “I like you too, I just never thought you felt the same. Y’never seemed to pick up on any of my sweet talkin’ or my names for ya.”

“I just figured you were being nice,” you replied, glancing back into his eyes.

“You should know by now, I'm only nice to you,” he growled. “I'm sorry I ruined that today,” he glanced at your mouth, licking his lips. “Was just jealous. Want you all for myself,” he stroked your thigh again.

You sighed at the feeling, pulling him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The kiss was frantic and rough, both of you trying to get as much of each other as possible, a year of build-up boiling at the surface. Teeth clashed and tongues danced and you pulled each other closer, grasping at clothes and skin.

The two of you broke the kiss, needing a gasp of air. You started to take off your shirt when Joel stopped you. “Whoa, darlin'. I want you just as bad, but not here,” he gestured to the old building. “It's dangerous, not to mention gross in here. I wasn't kidding when I said you deserve romance,” he stood, pulling you to your feet. “We're about a 20 minute ride from base, let's head home. Make your fantasy of fuckin’ in my bed come true,” he winked, giving a smack to your ass.

_____

The 20 minute ride felt never-ending as you both stole glances at each other, your panties still wet with arousal, and him still sporting the tent in his pants, which was hard to miss.

Finally making it back to the stables, you both quickly undressed the horses and put gear away, about to head out of the barn when Jimmy and his partner rode up. “Hey, babe,” he called to you. It sounded wrong from his mouth. Joel tensed at your side.

Dismounting his horse, Jimmy strolled over to you. “Hey Jimmy, I was thinking. I don't think I want to go on that date after all. I'm sorry, I just don't feel the same way.”

“What?” Jimmy asked in disbelief.

“I know, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I- I like someone else. I just didn't think they felt the same way,” you replied sheepishly.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“What?” You were in disbelief.

“Fuck you, bitch. One of the few women in this town who won't fuckin’ put out. I was even gonna take you on some shitty date before I got you into bed, and now you make a fool of me? Nah, I don't think so,” he stalked towards you angrily.

You stepped back, worried what he might do, but Joel stepped in first, nailing a punch at Jimmy's nose. “Don't you dare talk to her like that,” Joel yelled.

Tommy came running in, hearing the commotion. After hearing what happened, it was decided that Jimmy wouldn't be welcome in this town any longer.

Satisfied, you grabbed Joel's hand. “Why don't I show you who I really belong to?” You looked up at him, biting your lip.

“Lead the way, baby.” He pushed you forward, smacking your ass.

The two of you stumbled into his house, kissing with little regard for objects. Luckily, Ellie was still at a friend's house. The door slammed closed and you kissed furiously, undressing as you walked. Finally you reached his bedroom and fell onto the bed, where he made all your fantasies of the night prior come true. The two of you enjoyed the taste of each other's mouths, kissing and licking, while he pounded into you, leaving you breathless and screaming his name as you both came.

“That was even better than I imagined,” you sighed, rolling over onto his chest.

“That's my girl,” he cooed, kissing your head and rubbing your back.

“Mine,” he whispered.

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kjdkive · 4 months

Text

accidentally revealing you're engaged — CL16

top actress! yn and f1 pilot! charles leclerc

“you know, chloe, i am very scared of red carpets because it means interviews and questions and i hate them, why can’t we all just watch the premier in peace and in comfy clothes?” you ask your manager.

“you talk a lot when you’re nervous.” she says.

“i know and i am sorry.” you tell her. “i get anxious because you never know if they can twist your words. but whatever, i’ll be fine, right? like it’s nothing serious, right, chloe?”

“we’re here.” chloe replies and waits for one of the bodyguards to open your door and let you walk out. “you’ll be fine.” she says before you get off the car.

as soon as you get off you hear the screaming from the fans and you run to them so you’re able to take as many pics and sign as many autographs as you can before security tells you to stop.

but the part that you loved the most is over, now is posing and then interviews.

“yn! let us see the back of the dress!” you listen to the paparazzis and you turn around. you keep posing the way you’re being asked to, expecting for the pictures to maybe not look perfect but just fine.

and the posing is over! now it’s the interviews.

you’re 3 interviews down of 5 to go and your manager and your bodyguard are behind you supporting you, mouthing “you got this!” which makes you laugh.

“hi, y/n, it’s so nice to meet you. i am kate and i am from know-it-all magazine.”

you have to be honest, you had never heard from them.

“hi, kate, nice to meet you too.” you smile at her.

“i’m loving your dress, it fits perfectly! can you tell us who you’re wearing?”

“of course, i am wearing a custom-made oscar de la renta which is a huge honour.”

“are you excited to be here? i mean, you’re probably going to get asked out a lot because you’re a single woman now.”

“uh, yeah…” what did she just say? this is what you didn’t want to happen, questions that are not normal and that you do not want to answer.

“can you give a few tips to women who now are after charles?”

okay. now you didn’t understand what was going on. what the hell is happening?

“did you just ask me to give tips to women who like charles? as in what he likes and stuff?”

“yeah, i mean, you broke up.”

“we broke up?” you ask her, shocked.

“yeah, that’s what everyone is saying.” she never stops smiling which is creepy and annoying you.

“can you hold on a second?” you ask and she nods.

you grab your phone from your pocket because yes, your dress had pockets. right now, a blessing and a curse. your manager was about to stop you but what you were about to do was going to be funny. you scroll a little bit through your phone, dial some number and put it on speaker.

“hey, charles! i’m on an interview and you’re on speaker, okay?”

“hey, baby, yes, what’s up?” he giggles. “why are you calling me charles, though? did i do something?”

“i think you did.” you laugh. “did we break up?”

“what?” he asks, almost yelling. “did we?” he asks now more calmly but confused.

“i mean, i don’t think so.”

“as far as i know, babe, we’re engaged so you’re kind of stuck with me.”

you roll your eyes laughing.

“i know, right? thanks for letting me know though, i’ll call you later after i’m done, babe.”

“m’kay, i love you!”

“love you too, baby, bye!”

you hang up and you look at the interviewer.

“does that answer your question?”

“it totally does. thank you so much, hope you have lots of engaged fun tonight.”

“i will, thank you.”

you start walking away from the camera but you hear chloe whisper to the interviewer: “she’s kind and naive but next time, ask better questions. just be thankful for now.” chloe could be a very scary person.

“i think you’re going to go trending and you’ll also make a lot of money to that magazine.” chloe laughs. “good job.”

“thanks? i guess.” you look at her. “charles fucked up, though, we were supposed to keep our engagement a secret.”

“you know how he is, he could never keep a secret.”

#charles leclerc #cl16 x reader #cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 scenario

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

Text

Rival IV

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your Aunt Stina and Aunt Lina babysit

Your Leah Williamson jersey ends up getting framed. Like when you receive any new jersey, you pose for a picture against the wall and, after that, Momma takes you to a shop to get a big frame to put it in.

It hangs up on the wall over your bed (somewhere that no matter what happens in the future and wherever you move, it always ends up) and you spend a lot of your time (and slightly limited attention span) looking up at it.

Leah's a defender like Morsa but she's so much more cool because she plays for Arsenal. It sends Momma into a round of laughter when you tell Morsa exactly that. You think it's pretty funny too up until Morsa picks you up and tickles your tummy until you've got tears of laughter running down your cheeks.

You kind of wish that your Leah shirt wasn't framed when you come running down the stairs to meet with Aunt Stina and Aunt Lina.

It's not often that you get left with other people for the day, especially people who aren't on the Not-Wolfsburg team.

Momma, Morsa and the the rest of the girls are doing something today that you can't be around for so you're left with Aunt Stina and Aunt Lina.

"Alright," Momma says as she zips up your coat and sorts out your hair while Morsa talks to your aunties," You be good, okay? I don't know what Stina and Lina are planning to do but they've got a match in a few hours so you have to be good like you are for our matches, alright?"

You nod. "Uh-huh."

"I mean it," Momma says, lacing up your shoes and pressing a kiss to your crown. She helps you put on your backpack. "Be good. Be polite and make sure to boss your aunties around."

You smile. "I will!"

You crash into Morsa's legs and hug them tight as her hand comes down to rest on your head. "You're in charge, princesse," She says to you," Make sure you keep these troublemakers in line."

"Promise!"

Your day with Stina and Lina starts well, especially when they take you to the McDonald's drive-through and let you order whatever you want. It gets even better when they drive you to the stadium for their game and even, even better when Auntie Stina pulls out a little 'Hurtig' Arsenal shirt for you to wear.

"You can't tell Magda," Lina says as she helps you into her shirt, tucking it into your trousers and zipping your coat back up over it," Okay?"

"Okay." You nod with a smile.

Morsa refuses to buy you an Arsenal shirt in your size even though you've got so many of her Not-Wolfsburg jerseys that you never wear. You've got a lot of Momma's Wolfsburg shirts too but you always wear them so it doesn't really count.

Either way, you're very happy with your Lina Arsenal jersey and make sure to give her a big kiss and cuddle in thanks. She gives you one back before leading you into the dressing room, swinging you up to sit in her cubby as she changes.

"Well, well, well, look who it is."

You recognise the voice as Katie's and beam up at her.

"Your mams finally let you come to a proper game, huh?"

You nod. "I'm wearing an Auntie Lina jersey." You clumsily tug off your coat to show her.

Katie grins. "We'll make a Gooner of you yet, kiddo." She ruffles your hair, moving so she can fully kneel in front of you, tying your laces again from where they've come undone. "Do you know the song?"

You cock your head to the side. "What song?"

"You don't know the song?" She gasps at you. "Oi! Caitlin! Put on North London Forever!" She turns to you and adjusts your jersey so it's lying properly on your shoulders. "This is the Arsenal song. Every Gooner should know it."

The song plays in the changing room for a while as you munch on snacks and take large gulps of the sugary drink Aunt Stina let you get at the drive-through.

It gets stuck in your head and you hum it to yourself as Stina helps you hang your bag up and takes you for one last toilet break before the game starts.

You hang out with some of the coaching staff as the team go through their warmups.

"Are you happy to stay on the bench with the team?" Coach Jonas asks you. He's not quite what you're used to with Coach Emma but he's very nice and personally helps you when you can't quite open the lid to your water bottle.

"Uh-huh," You say, nodding your head," Momma and Morsa let me sit on the bench when they play too."

He smiles at you just as Auntie Lina comes to scoop you up in her arms, placing you easily on her hip as she heads towards the tunnel to the lineup.

"You're going to be my mascot for the day," She tells you," Is that cool with you?"

You nod. Auntie Lina is so cool. Morsa would never have let you be an Arsenal mascot ever so it's extra special that you get to do this.

"Oh, man," Auntie Stina says dramatically as she jogs over," You got her first? I wanted her to be my mascot!"

Auntie Lina laughs. "She's wearing my shirt. You snooze, you lose."

"I can be your mascot next time, Auntie Stina!" You say," But you have to get me your jersey 'cause Morsa doesn't like Arsenal shirts in the house."

Auntie Stina smiles at you and winks. "I'll see what I can do."

You still end up walking out with Auntie Lina and, when the match is about to start, she walks you over to the bench and sets you up between Lotte and Lia. You say polite hellos to both but keep your focus solely on the game.

It's different to a Not-Wolfsburg game but much more enjoyable. Lotte even lets you use her shoulder as support as you stand up so you can see better.

It ends up with a win for Arsenal (of course) and you go around the locker room to give the girls hugs in victory before you're shipped off back into Auntie Stina's car.

Auntie Lina makes her go through the drive-through again to get dinner and you munch on your chips as the front door swings open.

You completely bypass Morsa to crash onto the sofa where Momma's waiting with open arms.

"Hi, princesse," She says, cuddling you close before moving to unlace your shoes for you.

"Hi!"

"Did you have fun with your aunties?"

"So much fun!"

She pulls your shoes off.

"I'm glad."

"North London forever!" You sing as Momma begins to help you out of your coat," Whatever the weather! These streets are our own!"

Morsa groans loudly as your aunties snicker by the door. "Did you have to teach her that?"

"Katie taught her!" Auntie Lina laughs," We had nothing to do with it!"

"But, I gather you had something to do with this?" Momma teases.

For the first time since your coat came off, Morsa turns around to look, finally spotting the Arsenal jersey you spot.

"You didn't," She says through gritted teeth," You got my kid an Arsenal shirt?!"

Auntie Stina throws her hands up in defence. "She already has Leah's shirt!"

"Yeah, a Williamson-sized shirt! We're never going to get her out of this!"

As Morsa scolds your aunties, you lace your fingers with Momma's and swing your joined hands back and forth as you burst into another line of the song.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson #magdalena eriksson x reader #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #The Big Adventures Universe

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luveline · 2 years

Note

sharing idea time! Eddie being the lovable menace likes to tease or "be a meanie" as reader would say to Roan, so one day he's being playful and Roan decides to "defend" reader by "standing up" to her dad. like on the couch to try making eye contact and lecture him with such a glare he's worried her face will get stuck.

omg yes nothing so romantic as some light bullying (I say this genuinely) fem!reader

Eddie does this thing with his hands that is completely, unmitigatedly cruel. He might take your hand, and you settle into his side expecting to be loved on. When he's in an especially good mood he pulls your arm to his chest and runs the tips of his fingers over your bare skin slowly. It's a sweet tickling sensation that could lull you to sleep.

When he's in a better mood than that, he gets mean. He teases with the callused hands of both a mechanic and a guitarist, built for precision and brute force. His hand follows down to your palm and he holds your hand in his in a simple gesture, and then he gathers your fingers and squeezes until all your bones ache.

It always makes you laugh, a panicked braying as you try to pull your hand back and fend off his horrible attack. Eddie only grows more eager, rolling your fingers together until you gasp and beg to be let go of.

This time, he's done not only a number on your hand but your thigh. You're too sensitive for his pinching, and he gets right in there and squeezes until you can't breathe.

"Eddie," you squeal, totally dissolved, limp and gasping and flat on your back across the couch. "Please stop."

He tickles up the inside of your thigh but doesn't do any further damage. "You're laughing, aren't you? I think you like it more than you admit."

"Laughing isn't the word I'd use."

He grabs at your doughy thigh until you're pleasing for mercy and says, "No? You wouldn't? What word would you use, baby?"

His voice raises in volume with each new question as to be heard over your keening.

"Eddie, please, would you-"

"Stop!" Roan cries, climbing up onto the couch with impressive speed and dexterity.

You raise your chest and legs as she lands straight into the pouch of your stomach with an "Oof!" that whipes you out completely. Roan defends your limp state with two hands outstretched and a darling, dramatic scowl.

"Stay away, dad!"

His turn to frown. "That's daddy to you, short stuff. What's your damage?"

"You are my damage!" she shouts. It's hilarious and lovely in her baby voice and clumsy pronunciation.

You giggle under her weight and smile so wide it infects him. He catches Roan's furious gaze and it swiftly falls away.

"Baby, what's wrong? We're just playing."

"You're being the meanie!"

"A meanie," you correct mildly, hands coming to rest on Roan's hips.

"A meanie," she says crossly.

Eddie can't understand how he got here, why her favouritism tips so strongly to your side. You giggle again, to yourself more than either of them, and he remembers. The sound is pretty as your lackadaisical grin, your face tipped to the side to see him from around Roan's commanding pose.

"I'm sorry," he says, not sounding very sorry, "I'm not trying to be mean. It's just to make her laugh, Roan. Don't you like laughing?"

Roan looks him straight in his face, real upset between her pinched brows. How many times has he seen that expression on his own face? A furious kind of injustice.

"You have to be nice!" Roan declares.

"I am nice."

"No, you're mean. You squish too hard."

He supposes that's true.

Eddie dips his chin toward his chest and pouts at her apologetically. "I'm sorry..." He holds out his hand, hoping to hold her small palm against his own. She gives it to him with enough reluctance to break a dad's heart.

"You're mean."

"I'm only playing," he stresses.

He rubs the back of her hand and lays it down thickly. Affection has always worked against her moods, ever since she was a baby. Half the time she'd cried and Eddie could fix it with a hug and a kiss.

"You have to play nicer," she chides gently, sounding a lot like he does when he has to explain things to her. It's so close and so genuine he finds himself wanting to kiss every bit of soft skin on her face.

"I will, I promise. No more squeezing. Alright? Does that make you feel better?"

"Not me, Y/N!" she says.

"Oh." Eddie manoeuvres his daughter so she's in his lap and then pulls you up by your hand, bringing it to his lips in a princess kiss. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I won't be doing anymore squeezing."

You grin at him. "Damn straight you won't. Or you can answer to my lovely protector. Isn't that right, Roan?"

Roan has melted into her dad's arm like butter in the sun, but she has enough wits about her to say, "Right!"

Eddie kisses the top of her head, careful not to crush her freshly washed curls. He can't find it in himself to be mad that his girls have ganged up on him now. He likes having you both be on the same team. He only wants to be on that team with you.

"I'm sorry," he tries again pathetically, dropping his cheek into the couch cushion to look pitiful.

You do take pity on him, dropping your own cheek close enough to meet his eyes. "That's okay, handsome. You're forgiven."

He tries not to make it too obvious that he's looking down at Roan.

You bite with a pleased little smile. "Roan, would you forgive daddy? He's sorry."

She pats Eddie's thigh. "Okay."

Her forgiveness isn't grand, but it does feel good. Good enough to celebrate.

"Thank you, baby..." He toys with a ringlet of hair behind her ear until she shivers. "How about we go out for dinner, huh? The three of us."

"Where?" you ask.

"For cake?" Roan asks.

"I'm sure they'll have cake," he assures her.

You both seem remarkably, impossibly lively after that, a stark contrast to your sleepy states. He can't believe how quickly you abandon him, or how quickly you pull on your shoes.

more eddie and roan

#eddie and roan #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader #dad!eddie munson

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mokulule · 1 year

Text

A Pinch of Salt snippet 1

Chronologically first story in the Salt in the Bones AU @clockwayswrites and I are working on together (go check out the snippet Clock posted) - so much brainstorming, it's so much fun. This story is how Danny and Constantine meets.

“What the hell man, do I look like some kind of restless spirit to you?”

When Danny decided to investigate some ghostly rumors at the abandoned construction site of a nearly completed mall about an hour from Amity, he did not expect to turn a corner and get a face full of salt tossed at him. His assailant, a tired looking, blond, middle aged man in a sandy trenchcoat that had seen better days, just continued staring with narrowed eyes and the hand that had done the throwing still slightly raised.

“Okay, so I haven’t slept in three days, but dude, really?” He brushed his sleeve across his mouth to remove the salt but only succeeded in getting more in his mouth, he stuck out his tongue in disgust.

Still no give from the sad trenchcoat man.

“What are you?” the man finally spoke.

Danny stared open-mouthed, rude much! So that’s what trenchcoat wanted to go with! Fine! Two can play that game.

“Covered in freaking salt that’s what!” Danny shook his head so it rained salt speckles around him.

“It’s everywhere,” he groused spitting at the floor trying to get the taste out. “Seriously, save that for the shades and the fries.”

Having expelled most of the salt, he noted something else. He moved his tongue around for a moment pondering, then froze.

“Is that… Rosemary?!”

He had a sudden sinking feeling in his gut, took a moment to sense past the surface of noir-reject and was assaulted by sheer wrong-torn-wrong. He took a step back in horror.

“What are YOU? Why are you seasoning me? Do you eat people?!” Danny had thought he’d be dealing with a poltergeist, not whatever weirdness this man was.

For the first time he got a reaction.

“I don’t bloody eat people!” Constantine blurted in consternation, taking a step toward the creature posing (annoyingly realistically) as a teenager, who promptly took another step back.“Could have fooled me,” the creature countered, “what with that thing you have going.” He gestured vaguely up and down at Constantine’s entire person in disgust.

It really shouldn’t matter what some not-poltergeist thought of him, but something about him just rubbed Constantine wrong and he bristled.

The next moment the creature spluttered and coughed from the holy water he’d just thrown at him, but huh, no burning.

“Not a demon either,” John remarked, allowing himself a smirk as the creature looked at him open mouthed, eye twitching.

“Where the hell are you keeping this shit, did you just pull it out of your a- wait, demon?” He blinked and stopped his tirade.

“Demon?” he repeated, “demon’s exist?”

And suddenly it was Constantine reevaluating, because that sounded genuine, and the kid, because oh God it was just a bloody kid, might reek of death magics, but now that he was paying attention the malice wasn’t coming from him. It was coming-

A wail, angry, hateful, sorrowful tore apart the silence. It was cold to the very marrow of his bones freezing him in place.Down the hallway energy crackled in a growing storm of malice throwing around dust and debris from the construction. Cardboard, and forgotten tools was sucked into it and it was slowly moving towards them. Shit.

“That’s not a poltergeist either,” the kid remarked quietly at his side. And for a moment he’d forgotten he had a bloody civilian on hand. He cursed, grabbed the kid and booked it in the opposite direction from the sodding spectral storm.

#A pinch of salt #Salt in the bones #Danny and Constantine #dysfunctional found family FTW

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skyward-floored · 11 months

Text

Different, Yet Similar

I woke up a few days ago with this fic in my head and for some reason I was able to write it out really quick, I don’t know how that happened XD I also decided it was the perfect opportunity to try out a slightly different writing style, and while I don’t think I’ll stick with it, it was an interesting experiment anyways :)

————————————————————

“So... how did you guys all meet your Zeldas?”

Wind is the one to pose the question, said while looking around with curious eyes at the rest of the Links. Most of who now have varying expressions of surprise on their faces, the question unexpected.

“Why do you ask, sailor?” Time asks, his single eye watching him curiously. Wind shrugs, fiddling with one of the power bracelets that has taken permanent residence on his wrists. They’re good for fidgeting with, he’s found.

“I’m just curious if any of us met ours similarly or not.” His mouth turns up into a grin. “I mean, I met Tetra after she got dropped by a giant bird and got stuck in a tree. I’d bet none of you guys met yours quite like that.”

Snickers ring through the camp, though a few of the Links give the sailor mildly concerned looks as well. The nonchalance with which Wind speaks of the antics he and his princess get up to sometimes worries them.

“Was she okay?” Hyrule asks in concern, and Wind nods, waving him off with a small flick of his wrist.

“Totally fine. Tetra’s tough, it would take more than a fall from a giant bird to rattle her.”

“A giant bird?” Sky asks eagerly, perking up a little. Wind doesn’t perk up in return though, rather he cringes at the excitement in Sky’s voice.

This isn’t a giant bird like the kind Sky is used to.

“Not a nice one,” he replies, thinking back to the crimson bird that was Sky’s best friend. “Ganondorf was using the bird to kidnap girls he thought might’ve been Zelda. Tetra had been grabbed, but she got dropped because her pirate crew managed to score a hit on the bird... the Helmarok king. He wasn’t nice,” Wind finishes more quietly, an unusual dark thread of anger in his voice.

Then he sighs, and shakes off the memories, looking around at the other Links in curiosity.

“So? How’d you guys meet your Zeldas?”

“Um... which one?” Hyrule asks hesitantly, scratching his neck. He’s in the rather unique position of knowing two princesses by the name of Zelda, a fact which often confuses his traveling companions. “I kinda have two...”

“Do both,” Wild says from where he’s seated nearby, and Hyrule nods.

“Okay. Well... there’s not really much to tell, honestly. For the first Zelda, I just met her after I defeated Ganon. He’d captured her, and after I defeated him I got her out and took her back to the castle.”

Hyrule laughs a little then, and looks up at the sky, constellations just starting to come into view.

“We were both a mess when I got into the place where he’d been keeping her; I was dirty and bleeding in multiple places, and Zelda had basically been living in a dungeon for a few weeks. It wasn’t exactly polite company,” he chuckles.

The others laugh a little at Hyrule’s story, though some of them wince in sympathy at the mention of his wounds. Fights with Ganon were never easy.

They’re all aware of how powerful their greatest foe is.

“How about your other Zelda? How did you meet her?” Sky asks, and Hyrule suddenly blushes for some reason, fidgeting with his bracers.

“Well um, she’d been cursed into a long sleep by an evil wizard, so when I first saw her she wasn’t even awake,” he admits. “But after I woke her up, that’s when I actually met her.”

“And what happened then?” Legend asks with a teasing smirk, having noticed Hyrule was still blushing.

The traveler’s cheeks darken a little, but he admits to nothing. “She said thank you for waking her up.”

“And how did she say thank you?” Wind asks with a mischievous look in his storm-tossed eyes.

Hyrule blushes even darker, but still admits to nothing— though the face he’s making says an awful lot. The others really don’t need to know about the kiss he received in thanks for waking the second Zelda: he knows he’ll never hear the end of it if they do.

Hyrule manages to meet Wind’s gaze without faltering, crossing his arms with a firm look.

“With her mouth, of course. How else would she say thanks?” he says a bit haughtily, and Time decides to intervene before poor Hyrule’s face turns any redder.

“I met my Zelda in a fairly simple way,” he says, and the other Links turn to look at him, abandoning their pursuit of getting an answer out of Hyrule in favor of listening to what Time has to say. Their unofficial leader rarely gives them details of his adventures, no less his version of the princess they’re all so familiar with. “I was... about nine, I believe, maybe ten.”

He sighs, shaking his head as he thinks back to when so much of his life had abruptly changed.

“I was instructed to go see her, but they didn’t want to let a mere child in at the gate. So I snuck into the castle to talk to her, and succeeded, more than once. The guards hated that a ten-year-old could get past them without being seen,” he says with a chuckle. “They weren’t terribly good at their jobs.”

“That’s a little like how I met my version of the princess,” Twilight says thoughtfully, a hand on his chin. “‘Course I didn’t sneak into the castle, I was trying to sneak out.”

“Why, were you in the dungeon?” Legend scoffs, and Twilight smirks.

“That’s exactly it, actually.”

Legend’s face turns to one of surprise, and more laughter rings out from the Links, especially from Wild.

“I was wondering when you were gonna tell them you’re an escaped convict,” he grins at his mentor, and Twilight swats at him with a look both fond and annoyed.

“I’m not an escaped convict,” he says with an eye roll. “The enemy had overtaken the castle, they’re the ones who threw me in there. I committed no crime.”

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure some of the stuff you’ve done counts as crime,” Wild cuts in again, a grin twitching at his lips. “What about the time you blew up that old—”

“Somebody else’s turn,” Twilight interrupts, putting a hand over Wild’s mouth, much to his annoyance. He’d rather wanted to be the one to tell the others about that particular incident.

“Smithy? How about you? You’re pretty good friends with your Zelda, right?” Twilight asks, ignoring the clamor of the others to elaborate.

Four nods, and a bright smile stretches across his face at the reminder of his closest friend.

“You’re right, I’ve known Zelda as long as I can remember,” Four begins as he sets aside the dagger he’d been sharpening, eyes warm. They suddenly dim a little though, and he clears his throat. “I think the first true memory I have of her was at my... a family member’s funeral.”

The other Links still as the smithy speaks, Twilight relinquishing his hold on Wild so they can both better hear. Four looks down at his hands as he thinks back to that day, but then a bit of a smile returns to his lips.

“She came because the family member knew the crown fairly well. We were the only kids there, so we ended up talking a lot... That’s when I really got to know her, and we’ve been close ever since,” he finishes quietly.

“That was similarly to how I met mine,” Sky says after a moment of silence, his voice soft. Four nods at him to continue, and Sky returns it with a bit of a smile. “I knew Zelda a little before, it was impossible not to on Skyloft. There’s not all that much space... but that was the problem when the sickness went through...”

He trails off, then shakes his head as if to clear it, hair falling in his face as he takes a steadying breath.

The memory of the death of his parents isn’t one he likes to linger on, even if it inadvertently led to him becoming friends with Zelda.

“Anyways,” Sky continues, clearing his throat, “I ended up living in the Knight’s academy before I was old enough to attend, and since Zelda lived there with her father as well, we played together all the time. It was inevitable we’d at least become friends.”

“You became a bit more than just friends though, or so I’ve heard,” Warriors says slyly, and Sky blushes as the laughter returns. The captain’s attempt at lightening the mood has succeeded.

“We... haven’t officially become anything,” Sky says simply, and the rest of them shoot each other knowing looks. It’s no secret that Sky is head-over-heels for his Zelda. It’s only a matter of time before something becomes official.

Sky looks back at Warriors then, the captain still chuckling a little over the reaction to his comment.

“You haven’t told us how you met your Zelda, captain,” he points out, and Warriors’ laughter peters off, a fond look replacing the mirth in his eyes.

“Ah, you caught me. Mine is complicated though,” he says with a slightly distant tone in his voice, and the others settle in to listen again. Warriors has mentioned more of his Zelda than some of the others, but not everything they’ve done or been through.

And while he speaks of her with nothing but professionalism, there’s a fondness in his eyes that a few of the Links have picked up on, one that speaks of a deeper bond.

One that nobody’s called him out on yet, but it’ll only be a matter of time.

“I only sort of met her the first time,” Warriors begins, leaning back on the log where he’s seated. “The war had just started, and things were... complicated, to say the least. Messy. She disguised herself to keep her identity safe, so I didn’t truly meet Zelda for quite some time.”

“But when you did?” Wind asks eagerly, and Warriors chuckles.

“It was worth the wait. But I got to know her while she was disguised, so in a way... I already knew her,” he says with a bit of mystery, and Time smiles from the opposite side of the fire.

Time still remembers the day Sheik shed her disguise and revealed herself to be the princess. Warriors was so shocked he’d said something rather idiotic, and Artemis had laughed at him a bit nervously, and then the two of them had gone off to have a long overdue conversation about her true identitiy.

Time won’t bring it up though. He’ll let Warriors keep a few of his secrets yet.

“That leaves... Wild and Legend left who haven’t said anything,” Wind says after a moment, counting off on his fingers.

The two look up at their nicknames, but Wild has a slightly uncertain look in his eyes, and Legend seems oddly stone-faced. Wind looks between the two, and debates for a moment which one to ask first.

Hyrule beats him to it.

“Champion, do you... remember meeting your Zelda the first time?” Hyrule asks a bit hesitantly. The others quiet at the question, and look as one over at Wild.

They’re all aware of Wild’s memory problems, but nobody except for maybe Twilight is truly aware of the extent they reach their blank grip into the champion’s mind. He still doesn’t remember much of his old life, merely a handful of memories recovered here and there that snatch him out of the life he’s currently living, then return him just as abruptly.

But meeting Princess Zelda is not one of these.

“Nope,” Wild says lightly, somewhat in opposition to the serious mood that has fallen over the heroes. “Not at all. I have no clue how we first met... knowing what she thought of me, I probably accidentally insulted her.”

The heroes chuckle good-naturedly, and Wild waits for the sound of their laughter to fade before continuing.

“No, I don’t remember how we originally met. My first true memory of Zelda isn’t when I met her... whenever that must have been.”

A soft smile parts his lips.

“It... was her voice. Back when I was still asleep. Calling to me, urging me awake once the shrine had finally finished healing me. She guided me when there was nobody else, told me my name, and though I didn’t even remember hers... that was when I first met Zelda.”

Twilight gives his shoulder a squeeze, and Wild lets him, a look full of several conflicting emotions settling on his face.

Warmth is the one that shows itself the most though, and a ghost of a smile flits across Twilight’s face when he sees it.

“How about you, Legend? You’ve been pretty quiet,” Four asks, changing the focus to give Wild some privacy. The prickly veteran tugs his cap tighter over his hair in response, hiding a few more strands of the pink that’s still fading away.

“She called to me too,” he says, voice oddly emotionless. “Woke me up in the dead of night and asked for help, with nothing but her voice.”

Something flickers in his gaze, but it’s gone so quickly nobody can quite catch what it is.

“She guided me to the castle, and I managed to find my way to where she’d been imprisoned in her own dungeon by the forces of darkness. I freed her, and that’s where I met her,” he finishes.

“That’s it?” Wind asks in confusion, a slight tilt to his head, and Legend nods.

“That’s it.”

It’s short and to the point, and while some of the heroes nod, the others that are more aware of how their veteran works pick up on the holes in the story.

The Hero of Legend may seem sharp and fearless, but even he has weak points, moments where he has felt neither like a hero nor strong enough to ever be one. These moments he’s purposefully left out of this story, important though they may be.

These are not moments he shares freely. And especially not during what’s supposed to be a lighthearted answer to the boundless curiosity of the youngest member of their group.

“See sailor? None of us met our Zeldas the same way you did,” Legend says with a smirk, easily changing the subject, and Wind hums, looking around at the heroes as he fidgets with his bracelets again.

“That’s true. But there’s similarities between all of them,” he points out, “and some of them are really similar, like yours and Wild’s.”

“Hyrule’s second one was a bit like Wild’s too,” Twilight points out. “Just reversed.”

“And Twilight’s was kind of like the old man’s,” Hyrule mentions with a bit of wonder to his voice, and that sends the group into a flurry of comparing and contrasting the differences, debating the finer points and wondering if the similarities mean anything.

Four though, hangs back from the conversation, not as willing to discuss things. As he looks around the clearing, he notices he’s not the only one either, and he slips around the fire to where the veteran has retreated, watching the others in silence.

Sky sees him go, but doesn’t comment. He knows what the smithy is doing.

“Hey,” Four greets as he settles down, and Legend doesn’t look at him.

“You need something?” the veteran asks with a sharpness in his voice that threatens to slice Four into pieces. The smithy ignores it, well used to Legend’s prickliness, and continues to sit, watching the others keep on with their loud discussion.

“No. I just didn’t want to keep listening to... all of that,” Four says with a slight smile, watching as Wind lunges across Warriors’ lap to grab at Wild for some reason.

Legend doesn’t reply, face still stony.

Four doesn’t directly look at him, but he watches the veteran from the corner of his eyes, seeing how tightly he’s wound, how his expression is set in a way that seems to be solely for the purpose of keeping it from cracking into something vulnerable.

It’s a familiar look, one that Four’s seen on his own face. There’s a part of him that’s like that, sometimes, but that just means he knows somewhat of how to deal with it... whether Legend wants him to or not.

“It was my mother,” Four says suddenly, breaking the silence.

Legend looks over at him, a flicker of surprise joining the crease on his brow. He appears rather taken aback, and Four waits for his reply.

“What was?” the veteran asks. Four looks up at the sky for what feels like a long, long time before replying, and Legend almost wonders if he’s ever going to speak.

“The funeral where I met Zelda,” Four continues, voice full of a bittersweet pain. “It was my mother’s.”

Legend stares at him a moment, unsure of how to reply.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Four continues, still looking up. His eyes are a reddish color, hints of green and blue peeking through that allude to the emotions he’s keeping a steady control of. “I just wanted you to know... you’re not the only one who didn’t meet Zelda under the... best circumstances.”

Four continues to watch the stars, and Legend swallows, his stony indifference cracking despite his best efforts.

Legend doesn’t like to admit it, but despite how carefully he closes himself off, sometimes he’s just as expressive as Wind— what he doesn’t say actually saying more than anything he admits to. And it looks like Four, dealing with a similar pain, has seen right through him.

The veteran is silent for a long time, listening to the others laugh and carry on, and Four sits beside him in equal silence, waiting for as long as Legend needs.

“My uncle,” he whispers finally, and Four squeezes his shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything more. And he doesn’t need to.

#weird ending but everything else I tried was worse XD #linkeduniverse #linked universe #all the links #lu legend #lu four #linked universe fanfic #lu fic #writing from the floor #hurt/comfort #I hate naming fics YEECH #legend angst snuck in here it wasn’t originally about him

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alina-dixon · 3 months

Text

Another Sanji!?

Pairings: Zoro x Male reader

Warnings: cursing, fluff,

Requested: Yes / No

A/N: I thought it was a funny idea! Have fun reading!😙 (also sorry for not posting! I have a job since last September, but! Don't worry I’m going to be writing more again! YAY!🥳❤️😂)

---

Soooo... It was currently five in the morning and you had a weird but funny dream, it was about you and Sanji pranking Zoro. So when you woke up you looked at the clock. “Mmmmh? Sanji should be awake by now.” you stretched yourself and got out of bed but you had to be quiet so you wouldn't wake up Zoro.

You opened and closed the door quietly and made your way towards the kitchen. “Morning Sunny!” you greeted the ship. Making your way to the kitchen you looked upon the see next to you.

Now you opened the kitchen door gently, you stuck your head through it, and peeked inside. You saw Sanji preparing the breakfast.

So you went inside. “Morning Sanji!” you greeted him smiling brightly, making him glance towards you and he smiled gently. “Morning Y/N” walking towards you with a plate that had some chopped fruits on it, placing it in front of you.

You smiled widely at him. “Thank you, Sanji!” Sanji got back to preparing. “No problem! For you, always” he said softly. You rested your hand under your chin while eating some apple slices. “Say Sanji… do you want to help me with something?” you asked looking at him with hopeful eyes, as he once again turned to you. “It depends, What kind of help do you need?” he asked curious.

You smiled evilly. “I want to Prank Zoro! My idea was to Dress like you! Make my hair like yours! And act like you!” you explained. That got his interest, which made him grin at the thought of Zoro’s dumb look on his face.

Sanji then nodded. “Well then, come with me to my chambers. I will give you some of my clothes and cut your hair” he walked out if the kitchen with you behind. When you got to his Chambers he went to his closet and came back with a pair of his shoes, a yellow shirt, and one of his suits. He put them on his bed and turned to you, grabbed your shoulders, and pushed you into his bathroom.

He sat you down on a chair and got his scissors out. But before he started he looked at you. “You sure that you want that?” he asked, only to make sure that you knew what you were doing. You look up at him nodding excitedly. “Yes, I'm sure! And besides, I was actually thinking for a long time to cut my hair like you. It just looks so good!” Sanji smiled at that. “Thank you. Well then, let's start.” and with that, he started cutting your hair.

Half an hour later he was done, and you were awestruck at how good it looked. He even made your eyebrows! You shot up and hugged Sanji. “It looked perfect! The only thing that is missing is the clothes!” you giggled, and Sanji hugged you back. “I’d do it again if you want. Just come to me if you want to cut your hair” he said as he walked back into his room to get you the clothes for you.

He came back handing them to you. “I sure will do!” you said and Sanji got back out so you could change.

First you put on the shirt, then the suit and for the last, the shoes. When you went back to his room, posing. “And, how do I look?” you said jokingly. Sanji started laughing. “Just like me. Now come let's finish preparing the breakfast before everyone wakes up” he said still chuckling lightly as you both went back to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Most of the stuff was done and on the table. Then you heard the kitchen door open and heard someone humming in confusion. “Huh?” it was Luffy. You and Sanji turned around to greet him. “Morning Luffy. Breakfast is ready” Sanji said, but Luffy only blinked at him. “Another Sanji!? Since when are there Two of you!?” Luffy screamed in confusion.

The others of course heard that and came to see what was going on. Many gasps and shocked faces were looking at the two of You. The one that stood out the most was Zoro… his face when he saw you, his mouth was wide open. “Shity Cook! What have you done to him!?” He grabbed Sanji's shirt and got into his face angry.

Sanji of course screamed back at him. “Shut it you stupid Moss head! We were only cooking!” Zoro scoffed at that angrily. You pushed them apart. “Oi! Sanji! Marimo! Stop fighting, and eat something!” you said and hit both of their heads. Zoro looked at you in disbelief. “Stop talking like him! You are not him!” he tried to reason with you. Which made you roll your eyes, and then smiled because you couldn't stay serious anymore. The same goes for Sanji and the both of you start laughing.

Everyone looked at you confused. “Bwahahaha!!! It was just a Prank! And it was totally worth it!” you said while you gave Sanji a high five. “Definitely, that stupid look on his face was hilarious!” Sanji laughed back.

Zoro grew a thick Mark on his forehead! “Stop laughing already!” he screamed. You walked in towards him and took his hand, and walked with him to the table to sit him down. “Stop being so angry, and start eating, will you?” you said as you sat down on his lap.

Zoro scoffed but he gave you a kiss, before he started eating. And what didn't surprise anyone is, that Luffy was already eating the whole time.

When everyone was at the table, Nami spoke up. “Y/N, to be honest with you that hair looks good on you. The clothes too. On the next Island I’ll take you to go shopping with me!” she said excitedly. “Thank you! And sure why not, sounds fun!” you said happily.

Robin nodded too. “Nami is right, you look good. I think I'll go with the two of you,” she said calmly. “Oi! He is my Boyfriend-” Zoro got cut off by an angry-looking Nami that hit him on the head. “And!? He's our friend! Now stop being an idiot!” Nami screamed, as everyone laughed.

You Started to cuddle Zoro’s neck and kissed his head. “Don't worry I could never love anyone but you,” you assured him, to which He only responded by hugging you tightly.

#the one piece is real #gay #male reader #male x male #male x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #one piece strawhats #one piece #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x male reader #zoro x male reader #one piece x male reader

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rainydayz-nstuff · 7 months

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Adventure Time

You can probably tell what I’m mostly going to be posting about 🫤 Anyways, this is briefly based on my own AT fanfic that I have.

So here is Finn x Ice Kings Kid! Reader (How you met)

Let’s start off with how you appeared since you’re human. Gunter found you while messing around in Ice King’s ‘research lab’

It was actually Simon’s old lab.

You, with very out dated clothes, were stuck in an Ice Pod where you’ve been asleep for many, many, years.

Ice King heard Gunter’s ‘wenks’ so he found both Gunter and a sleeping human

At first he asked Gunter if he had made a statue, then he opened the pod and you… nearly fell on your face.

Ice King caught you and realized you were still knocked out, and he kindly brought you to his bed and laid you down. He spent the next few hours pacing around the room and staring at you while he ate trail mix

When you woke up, he was chomping away and he was completely zoned out. Like, his pupils were huge.

You stared at him before blinking slowly. Finally, Ice King glanced down at you while letting out a hum. You locked eyes before he shrieked and started choking on his trail mix.

“Oh! Geeze, I’m sorry!” You instantly apologized.

Ice King recovered while taking deep breaths. You were now sitting up and he could tell you were kind of young.

Then, an idea hit him.

“I’m going to adopt you!”

“… You gonna what?

Ice king is now officially your dad (here you go people with daddy issues)

HES ACTUALLY A GOOD DAD NGL

He teaches you how to play the drums, the keyboard, writing fan fiction, ruling the kingdom, how he’s gonna kid nap possible wives-

You just let him rant on and on because he seems happy to talk with you

He’ll also offer to kidnap anybody you may be interested in, he doesn’t judge.

MAKES A CROWN FOR YOU! It never melts, and it looks like a mini version of his!

Cried the first time you wore it in front of him

Okay, onto the rest-

He set up a coronation to officially welcome you to the kingdom as his child.

Sends out posters, invitations, notes tied to rocks, and some people actually showed up (over half are kidnapped princesses because why not?)

Finn and Jake showed up because they found out about this coronation and thought it was a trick to lure in princesses or he kidnapped someone and was going to make them stay in his kingdom forever.

Right as the official Ice crown was to be placed on your head, they kicked the doors open and stopped the ceremony.

Ice King, like usual, got mad and instantly flew in the air to use his powers.

He flew up too quickly and knocked himself out when he hit the ceiling.

Before you could rush over to your dad, Finn grabbed your hand and whisked you away like a bride

He gave you a reassuring smile to try and convince you that you were now safe

It didn’t make you safe

“Hey! Put me down!” You struggled to get out of his grasp. “Seriously, who are you?!”

Finn stopped running before he sat you down. Your shimmery light blue, bordering white, outfit matched the icy floor. “My names Finn, and that was Jake.”

His toothy smile and heroic pose made you stare at him blankly before you turned around. “I’m going back to see my dad.”

Finn’s face fell and he tried to grab your arm. “Hey, wait! Don’t go back there, it’s dangerous!” He tried to warn you, but your brushed him off.

“Don’t care. My dad just got knocked out, and I don’t think Gunter knows how to use bandages.”

After marching back inside, you found your dad mumbling to himself. And Gunter was stuck in bandages.

After getting the little guy out, you helped your dad and picked him up to bring him to his bed.

All the guests had left after the ambush so you changed out of the ceremony attire, and then put on normal clothes only with the crown on this time.

Finn, very interested in who you are, spied on you and noted how… familiar you seemed.

You had never met before, but he felt like you were something he was missing.

Then he realized you were human.

He outed himself when he gasped before he also fell to the ground and made a loud crash.

You stood tall over him while he stared up at you. Your eyes glared down at his nervous form.

“Get out of here.” Your voice laced with venom, but oddly enough… he blushed.

Finn stuttered a bit while you raised an eyebrow. He then quickly got up, grabbed your hand, kissed it, then ran away

You never told your dad what happened, but you still didn’t comprehend what just happened.

#adventure time #adventure time x reader #cartoon #cartoon network #finn mertens #finn the human #finn x reader #fluff #imagine #x reader

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perseephoneee · 5 months

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decorating the tree (kol mikaelson x f!reader) {ficmas day 5}

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 5 of ficmas!

warnings: kind of angsty, mostly fluffy, a little steamy. but most importantly, festive.

a/n: i got a little carried away with this one. kol is just my baby boy. also the formatting is horrendous because tumblr was being a little bitch.

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

The holidays could be the most bittersweet time of the year. Observing everyone with their friends and families without having your own was lonely and often damaging. You usually could go home for the holidays, see your loved ones, or sleep in at your childhood home, but not this year. This year, because of all the shit happening in the French Quarter, you were forced to be alone.

You hated every second of it.

But, being the go-getter you were, you decided to make the most of it. And you involved the Mikaelsons in this scheme (they were part of the reason you were stuck in this mess anyway).

You had dragged Kol with you to get a Christmas tree. More like, Rebekah had convinced him to go with you. You harbored a massive crush on the original vampire, and Bex, your newest friend, was fully aware of it. It’s why she engineered him to spend more time with you. He helped drag the tree to your tiny apartment and lounged on your couch like a cat as you finished setting it up and dragging out your holiday ornaments.

“Should I go for a color scheme or just hang up whatever?” You asked Kol, holding up a box of white and gold ornaments. He was posed on your couch like a Greek statue, hand thrown over his eyes and legs sprawled out like he couldn’t give a damn. He opened one eye to look at your ornaments. You held up your box of random accouterments, including an abominable snowman and a glittery baguette ornament.

“I like the random ones,” Kol mumbled, laying his head back and letting out a sigh like the world was oh so cruel.

“Am I boring you?” You chastised, a frown marring your features.

“Darling, you could never bore me,” Kol coos. “I just find this to be obtuse.”

“What about it is obtuse?”

“When will you get to enjoy all of this?” Kol finally sat up, gesturing to your apartment. “With everything going on…you’d be lucky to have a Christmas.”

You deflated at his words, clutching your box of ornaments between your hands. Kol was right, but you loathed it. You wanted to just have a holiday, that was all.

He took notice of your somber mood and got off the couch to crouch in front of you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” he sighed, picking up an ornament and hanging it on the tree. “Maybe I’ll be wrong.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong; you wanted to hate him for that. But you never could, not really. You spent your whole life feeling like you were holding your breath, but it was like you could actually breathe with him. He made you smile and also frustrated you to no end. Kol saved your life once, and you wondered there and then if it was physically possible to give him your heart. You never figured that part out.Later that week, you were at the Mikaelson compound preparing for a war meeting slash holiday dinner. Dinner was your idea, and Elijah backed you up. Some poor soul they compelled was likely making you food as you sat on Rebekah’s bed, flipping through a book.

“Did you ever have any holiday traditions?” You asked the blond, not looking up as you spoke. You could hear her rifling around at her vanity when she turned to you.

“Bonfire,” Bex answered. “We’d write our wishes and throw them in the fire.”

“We should do that!” You exclaimed, looking up at her. She chuckled at your excitement, even as a melancholy look crossed her features.

“What would you wish for?”

Rebekah took a beat.

“My family, together, at peace,” she said softly, looking down. You repositioned yourself to sit at the end of the bed, looking at her sadly.

“I won’t leave you, you know,” you murmured. “Even if I should’ve hit the hills a while ago.”

“I know that, dove,” Rebekah sighed. “You’re as much a part of this family as I am. I’m…grateful for that.” She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and you were hit by the realization that she was just a girl in a woman’s body. “Because you’re my family, I know exactly what you’d wish for.”

“Oh?” You lifted a brow at that.

“For someone to meet you under the mistletoe,” Rebekah teased, getting up from her chair and tackling you down on the bed in a fit of giggles.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you gasped between laughter.

“Oh dear, Y/N, if only you could acknowledge how much he cares,” Rebekah sighed, and you poked her on the nose before rolling out of her reach.

“Don’t tell lies, Bex, it’s cruel,” you chastised.

“Is my darling sister being a vixen again?” Kol called from the doorway, catching both you and Rebekah’s attention. He leaned up against the door, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. You felt your heart rate pick up as you took him in.

“What do you want?” Rebekah inquired, looking bored.

“Dinner is ready; I came to fetch you,” Kol smirked, giving you a wink that sent your heart spiraling from the stratosphere. Rebekah grumbled and got up, pushing past you and out the door. You moved to follow, but Kol grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him.

“Kol,” you breathed, looking up at him in question.

“Do I scare you?” He asked, peering at you. “What?”

“Or is it nerves?” He traced his thumb over the vein on your inner arm, and you could swear he was listening to how your heart thumped. “What makes your heart jump every time I come around?”

“I get startled,” you stutter, ignoring the look in his eyes at your lie. Kol hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as his fingers traced your face.

“You know what I loathe about you?” Kol whispered. “You smell too sweet to resist…”

You wondered what would happen if you dared to kiss him right then, but the timing was never your forte, and you were interrupted by Rebekah yelling at the two of you to hurry up. You pulled yourself away, holding your breath, hoping to calm down as you descended the stairs. You could feel Kol following behind you.

Dinner was extravagant, as most things in the household were. You gored on rotisserie chicken and baked brie, letting the flavors coat your tongue. Elijah and Klaus bickered back and forth about a course of action with fighting the witches (they wanted Hope, of course). You could have been more helpful in these discussions anyway. Frankly, you weren’t sure why they kept you around. Maybe one day you’ll find out.

Dinner was interrupted by an explosion.

You felt yourself fly back, hitting the floor in the dust. The enemies had effectively retaliated, and the Mikaelsons fought back perfectly with tooth and claw. You brought yourself to a standing position, coming eye to eye with a witch who looked at you like you were a pawn on a chessboard. You sucker-punched her before she could make a move.

The Mikaelsons dealt with the threat in record time, and when the dust on their battlefield had settled, the arguments started. First, Klaus ranted about how they should’ve been more prepared, and then Elijah tried to explain how they made logical choices up to this point. Rebekah would occasionally butt in.

You just stood there hearing the noise build up in your head. You had the vague sense that you were bleeding, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Someone came up next to you, and you turned to see it was Kol. He said something that you didn’t hear before biting his wrist and holding it up to you. You tentatively took it, letting his blood coat your throat before pulling away. The ringing stopped, and you felt your body stabilize.

The pressure from the family screaming match didn’t go away, though. Someone yelled, “Stop,” and everyone turned to look at you. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice breaking the chaos.

“Just stop,” you pleaded. You looked at each sibling, forcing them to really see you. “It’s the fucking holidays…why is there always fighting? Why are you always fighting?” Your voice broke. “You have each other, and you care so much even when you pretend you don’t, and you’re always fighting.”

“I would do anything to have my family right now, but I don’t, and it kills me,” you choked. “You guys have each other, and what do you do? Nothing. Nothing at all.”

You don’t know why you broke, but you did. Being alone during your favorite season hurt you way more than you let on. It felt like looking from outside your body as you walked out of the compound on the way home. You entered your apartment silently, flipping on the lights to absolute silence.

You took a shower and went out in pjs, bundling yourself up in front of your fireplace. It was one of the amenities that sold you on the apartment. You wrote out your wishes on a piece of paper, folding them into paper cranes (for the sake of being dramatic) and tossing them in the fire. You sniffled, hugging your knees to your chest and weeping. You missed home and your family. You felt terribly alone.

On your paper cranes, you wrote for your family, for being surrounded by loved ones during the holidays, and Kol liking you back. Simple, trivial wishes, but ones you had nonetheless. You debated calling it an early night when you heard a knock on your door.

You got up slowly to open it, recoiling in shock when Kol bounds in with Klaus following behind him. Both are wearing Santa hats.

“Mother of God—“ you curse, watching as Kol drops boxes of decorations on your couch and Klaus makes a beeline for your kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

“Celebrating Christmas,” Klaus says, pouring himself a drink (somehow finding your alcohol).

“What?”

“Elijah and Bex will be here shortly,” Kol chimes, taking out some lights and struggling to detangle them. You walk over to help him. As Kol says, Elijah and Rebekah come with more decor than you can handle and even some presents. Elijah gives you the early gift of a record player, a sleek Audio-Technica he sets up in the corner. He puts on a Christmas record and lets Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas” sound fill the space. Rebekah decides your apartment should be rearranged and goes to work pushing the furniture into their new places, making Klaus help her. You join Kol in decorating the tree. This mainly includes you redoing what he’s done since he’s absolutely dreadful at it. He pretends like he doesn’t notice you do it.

“This one reminds me of you,” Kol says, holding up a bright red apple ornament. It’s lightly dusted in glitter.

“Why? Because I’m the apple of your eye?” You jest, earning a slight chuckle.

“In Jewish tradition, the apple symbolized strength and hope for prosperity,” Kol explains. “In Wicca, it’s a powerful tool for protection. Much like you.”

You don’t have anything to respond to that, as Kol places the apple in the perfect place. You don’t move to rearrange it, it’s already in its home. You blush under Kol’s gaze and go back to decorating.

Rebekah claps her hands to capture everyone’s attention.

“Family photo time!” She announces, brandishing a camera she must’ve found stashed in one of your drawers. Klaus groans, and she swats him. You all gather in front of the tree. Elijah holds the camera with Klaus behind him, Kol, you, and Rebekah. Rebekah wraps an arm around your middle and props her head on your shoulder as you lean into Kol to fit better in the frame. Kol puts an arm around your shoulders and rests his head against yours.

“Smile,” Elijah says, taking the photo. You all gather around the screen, and you can’t help but smile at how well it turned out.

“You have a future in photography,” you chuckle, nudging Elijah. He rolls his eyes.

“No, thank you.”

Klaus pours everyone some champagne (again, where he was finding your alcohol is a mystery). You see the star at your tree's top and struggle to fit it on. Grabbing a chair, you nervously climb atop it.

“Here, let me help,” Kol says, grabbing your waist for support as you get on your tip toes and fit on the star. He holds you as you step off the chair, finding yourself in his arms. “Can we go somewhere quiet?” He asks, a hint of a tremble in his voice.

You gesture towards the bathroom, a place that’s already too noisy because of your rocky heater. He walks ahead of you, and you close the door behind him. You watch as Kol takes in the checkered floors, blue wallpaper, and clawfoot bathtub.

“Darling, this place is horrendous,” Kol states, and you laugh. “It works.” “It’s terrible.” “Not all of us are made of money,” you cross your arms, leaning against the counter.

“I have to get you a new place purely so I don’t have to look at this one,” Kol runs a hand through his hair, another hand on his hip. He looks ridiculous, and it makes you love him even more.

“What did you need the privacy for?” You ask.

“I have a gift for you,” Kol rifles through his pocket, pulling out a small red box. Your breath catches as he hands it to you. You open the box with trembling fingers to find a necklace inside. It’s simple, with a pendant of a moon eclipsing the sun. Your fingers trace with the charm with a delicacy reserved for beautiful things. “I saw it and thought of you.”

“I don’t know what to say…” “Say you’ll let me take you on a date.”

Your head shoots up, and you look at Kol with wide eyes. For once, his expression isn’t one of a cocky vampire, but rather a nervous boy. “What?”

“I figured it out,” Kol starts, stepping closer to you and cornering you by the door. “Why your heart beat so fast around me…why Rebekah is always asking me to do things with you…why you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” Kol looks down at you, forcing you to look up to meet his gaze. “You like me.”

“I—“ “It’s alright, I like you too. A lot. More than anyone in the past centuries,” Kol whispers. You wonder if maybe that wish you threw in the fire possesses real magic as you see your dreams coming true.

“Okay.” “Okay?”

“You can take me on a date,” you answer, feeling your breath shaky as Kol steps closer.

“Can I call you my girlfriend?” He trails his fingers across your jaw, chin, and lips. Your body is on fire.

“You can call me your girlfriend,” you whimper as his nose brushes yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He lets his breath fan your face, and you can barely let out an affirmative before you grab him by the collar and drag his lips to yours. One of his hands boxes your head against the wall as the other holds your hip, pulling you closer. Your hands tangle in his hair, and you hear him let out a small groan at the action. You let him take control because you’re barely holding on with the way he kisses and touches you. You’re afraid you might break apart if he lets go, and you can barely hold in your gasp as his fingers brush under your shirt.

You would let him take you right there, and then if not for Rebekah knocking on the door.

“Stop snogging and finish the tree!” She yells, earning a growl from Kol as you hear her walk away cackling. He turns back to you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips as he looks at you with eyes the color of the night sky.

“How does 8pm tomorrow sound?” “Sounds like a date.”

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #tvdu #tvd #vampire diaries x reader #vampire diaries #the vampire diaries #ficmas 2023 #12 days of ficmas #my writing

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sometimes-i-write-good · 1 year

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Line of Sight

Top Gun: Maverick Jake “Hangman” Seresin x gn!WSOreader [no use of y/n]

1.8k | You’ve got to love how glasses can make even the hottest man then times hotter

====

Genre: fluff, crushing

CW: swearing

A/N: I saw a photo of Glen Powell in glasses and now that’s all I ever want to see. (Also, I wrote this on mobile again. So extra apologies if it looks weird or there’s more typos!!) || cross-posted on ao3

===

“I don’t see why you can’t just get the surgery,” Jake said, settling further into the uncomfortable office chair. The kind that were made for ten minutes of sitting and not two hours. You clearly didn’t know that though because you’d spend the past two hours on your feet, pacing.

He hadn’t wanted to spend his weekend this way. With you dragging him to various doctors appointments. He actually had a full day of cardio and lifting planned out before beers at the bar tonight, but he couldn’t turn you down once you gave him those puppy dog eyes. They were his favorite feature of yours, your eyes. He could get lost in them… and had on many occasions.

And here you were, trying on dozens of pairs of lenses that would be a barrier between him and Heaven itself.

“Because, Bagman,” you said, tilting your chin down slightly to stare at him over your latest pick. “I’m scared of those lasers fucking my eyes up.”

He scoffed. You were as bad a Rooster some days. Perched on a ledge watching life pass you by. At least you managed to keep Jake on his toes. As quick in the air as you were with your comebacks.

“How ‘bout these.” You pushed the pair up on the bridge of your nose and struck a pose that Jake could only roll his eyes at. “Hot, right?”

“You’re scared of lasers fucking up your eyes, B, but you go and pick out a frame that fucks up your whole face like that?”

If Hangman were looking - and he wasn’t - he could have sworn your face fell a bit at his comment.

Jake waved his hands at the wall. “Try on another one,” he said, purposefully avoiding looking at the small pile you’d already stacked on the technicians desk.

Off you went to peruse the wall of frames with your hands on your hips. Jake wasn’t entirely sure why you were so determined to find the perfect pair. The Navy didn’t exactly allow many choices. But you had been insistent on showing Jake every pair and he, rightfully so, had shot down every single one.

Perhaps slightly harsher than he’d been meaning to come off. It was unfair to take out the frustration of not being able to look you in the eye as well on you. Then again, they were your eyes.

Your eyes. Bright and fierce and blinding. Like the sun.

“I don’t understand what you have against glasses,” you called out to Hangman over your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you have against lasers,” he countered. When you didn’t respond, Jake let a smug smirk settle on his lips. “You could get contacts.”

He watched you shudder as you plucked another pair off the never ending wall of Jake Seresin torture devices. “And touch my eyes? No thank you.”

Jake sighed. You were impossible to reason with. Consistently so considering you’d been this way since he’d met you in flight school. It was how you’d gotten your callsign: Brick.

Because talking to you some days was like talking to a wall.

For obvious reasons, you took immediate offense to the name, but it stuck. Not everyone had the luxury of choosing their own callsigns in this job. One way or another you were going to end up with a nickname you hated. That’s just how the military worked. At least your commanding officers gave you a choice. Brick, bull, or mule. All stubborn. All equally as terrible.

You sulked for a week after that. Easily Jake’s favorite version of you because you had sought him out no matter where he was and hovered until he’d made some smart ass comment that brought a beautiful smile through. He’d always been the one to break down that wall, but you’d, steadily, build it right back up.

“I could put them in for you, B?” He offered, pinching the bridge of his nose, and squeezed his eyes shut hard. Jake was ready to craft you a new pair of eyes if it meant the pair of you could. Leave. This. Office.

“These,” you said, “these are the pair.”

“I don’t think…” but the words died on his lips as he lifted his head. Jake couldn’t do anything but stare. If you were to ask, he wouldn’t be able to tell you the date or year or his own name. All he would be able to do is tell you how stunning you looked.

You grinned, and it made him want to stand up and cross the office and take your face into his hands and kiss that stupid grin right off your face. Jake wouldn’t even mind if the frames of those glasses got in his way. They were ridiculously hot. “Yup.” You grinned wider at the heat working its way up his neck. “These are the ones.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, unable to come up with a good reason for you to abandon this pair. “That’s the pair.”

“You should try some on, Hangman.” You tapped at the side of your frames, still wearing that stupid smile. It was so carefree that he couldn’t help but return it. “Who knows, you might like them.”

His smile flatlined and he crossed his arms. Pouty, like you had been when you asked him to come with today. “I won’t like it. I don’t wear glasses.” You shook your head at him. “I don’t! They’re a sign that I’m anything less than perfect and we can’t have that.”

“We can’t have that,” you echoed, rolling your eyes. “C’mon. I won’t tell anyone about your slip into mediocrity for one day.”

“I want to leave, Brick.”

“Not until you try on a pair of glasses.”

“No.” You crossed your arms at him, mimicking his posture. “I’m serious.”

The sigh you let out almost does Jake in. He’s tempted to try on every pair of glasses. Just to please you, but this asshole mask has been fixed firmly in place for so many years. There’s no sense is removing it to make room for glasses.

“I’m serious, too.” He made a show of making himself as comfortable as possible in this impossibly uncomfortable chair.

“Jake.”

“Nope.”

“Seresin.”

“Not happening.”

“Hangman.”

“Brick.”

“Wall.” You point at yourself.

And that’s when Jake realizes there’s no winning this fight. Not with you digging your heels in like this.

“Fine,” he relented. “One pair. So they better be good.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Giving a stubborn person like you a task demanding perfection. “Oh not those, please.”

Your hand hovered over a pair of Ray-Bans that look suspiciously like a different WSO’s. “Why not? They look good on Bob.”

“Glasses do not make a person more attractive.” Jake prided himself for the slightest moment on not stuttering during that little white lie, though he couldn’t bring himself meet your eye. You were too good at picking out his fibs. “I am not wearing Bob’s glasses.”

You shrugged, nonchalant. “They make Bob look hot.”

“You think Bob - callsign ‘Bob’ - is hot?” Something hot shot through Jake. Same as when he was up in the air and Rooster catches Mav’s praise instead of him. “Since when?”

“Since he stared giving you ego checks.” You plucked a pair of glasses off the wall in a haphazard, random fashion and make your way over to Jake. “Here,” you say, “these are going to look good.” You bend over to put a pair of thick-framed black glasses on his face. Completely opposite of the pair Bob wore. He smelled the detergent you used on your clothes on laundry duty last night. He tried hard not to look like he leaned in closer as you move away to look at him.

“Well?” Jake asked, bringing a hand up to monkey with them. “How do I look.”

“I’d be able to tell if you’d sit still for once in your life,” you huffed. Then stomped over to readjust them and Jake let himself bask in the warmth of your nearness a little longer. “You’re as bad as Payback.”

“You’re doing an awful lot of comparin’ today, B.” Hangman laughed as you stuck your tongue out him. His careful eyes watched you walk backward to take him in again. “So, verdict?”

“They’re- uh, you… you look fine.” The stony facade of flirting and nothing more has cracked. Jake can see by the way you fiddled with your fingertips and the part in your lips as you held back a sigh.

He sat up with a laugh. “You’re swooning!” Jake pulled himself out of his chair and reached for a mirror. The reflection that stared back was handsome. A scholar more than a smartass. If he ever matured, this would be the perfect way to show it.

“Okay, Narcissus.” You snatched the mirror from his hands. It is returned to the table. Face down. “Enough staring at yourself.”

“I’m more Adonis than Narcissus, wouldn’t you say?” He laughed at the groan you let out. “What? I can’t help how hot I am in glasses.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“I’m hot, but am I Bob hot?” He teased.

“Oh, shut up.” You plop down in the empty chair next to him, rubbing at your neck, and avoiding his eye.

“You’re turning red…” he said, lips quirking back into a devilish grin - “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Seresin!” - “Red as a brick!”

You rolled your eyes at his stupidity, and he was glad to still clearly see that glint of affection through your glasses. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It kills the joke if I have to explain it, B.” He nudged you softly with his elbow. “I should have expected it, being the smartest one in the room and all.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” He pulled down his glasses to look at you over the tops of the frames.

“Not remotely.”

“Not enough to buy me lunch?”

You let out a laugh. He wanted to freeze that moment in time to capture this flirtatious laugh of yours. “Definitely not that much.”

“I just spent an entire Saturday following from doctor to dentist to doctor-”

“Fine,” you cut him off, “I’ll buy lunch, Bagman.”

“Dick.”

“Hey!” You snap your head to the side to look at him and use one finger to push your glasses down so that you’re staring Jake straight in the eye. “It’s Brick to you, sir.”

“That completely defeats the purpose of having glasses, you know.”

You smiled. He wanted to drop his gaze down to your lips but knew the implications that would hold. So, instead, he held your gaze.

“I know, I just want to look at you.”

His heart stuttered at your words. The two of you stare for longer than either of you had dared to push past before turning to look your separate ways. Maybe coming with wasn’t such a bad decision.

====

Tag list:

@rosiahills22

#top gun maverick #hangman top gun #top gun imagine #top gun fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #rueben payback fitch

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marlynnofmany · 9 months

Text

Hands-Free

“Are you going to want help installing all these?” I asked, opening another case of engine rings. I had no idea which part of the spaceship’s guts these actually went into; they were about three feet across, an inch thick, and made of some plasticky red stuff that was above my pay grade to define. All I knew was there was a lot of them, and we only had one engineer.

“No thanks,” grumbled Mimi, the octopus-looking guy with the voice like a gravel road. “This is a tentacles-only kind of operation.”

“Really? What’s the difference?” I was curious now. “Do you have to use specific tools, or reach into tight crevices?”

“Crevices,” he said, checking the label on the box. “These have to fit snug, and they go somewhere you people with fingers can never manage to reach.” He gave one ring a judicious whack against the floor, then tossed it back into the box.

I huffed in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m very flexible for my species.”

“Sure you are,” he chuckled. “Not your fault you’re held back by all those bones. And you only have two arms! I don’t know how you get by.” He started looping tentacles around the rings in a different box, gathering an impressive number of them.

“Just fine, thank you,” I told him. “Two arms is plenty.”

“Yeah? Carrying just a couple things at once? Must be a simple life.”

I took the hint, digging into the box for more rings. “Who says I can only carry two at once? Look how many I can fit over my nice long arms.”

“Yes, yes, good job. Put ‘em over there.”

“And I can hook them over my shoulders,” I continued as I deposited my armload where Mimi had pointed. “Heck, these are big enough that I could just stand inside a stack of them, and hold them all from the bottom. Oh! And—”

“Here, these too.”

“And,” I repeated, “I can even carry one without my arms or shoulders.”

“Yes, I know you have tiny fingers on your feet,” Mimi said, unimpressed.

“No, not like that!” I set down the other stack. “I’ll pick it up with my hands, then only touch it with my torso! Think I can do it?”

He struck a pose lounging on the floor with one tentacle against his head, looking dramatically bored. “Wow me,” he grated.

I hadn’t used a hula hoop since I was a kid, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. With all the flair of a carnival magician, I grabbed a ring and lifted it over my head, braced it against one hip, then spun it and did my absolute best to keep it from falling.

I managed about three seconds, which I consider a major success.

Finally it hit the floor. “Ta-da!” I said, hands in the air.

Mimi got up and deadpanned, “Wow.”

“Ah, you’re no fun.”

“I’m sure that is immensely practical on a day-to-day basis,” Mimi said. “A fine consolation for being unable to reach around three-bend corners.”

“Oh sure,” I said, stepping out of the ring and picking it up again. “You can do that, but can you make this love you?”

I gave the ring an underhanded throw towards the hallway, with a twist to make it spin madly. It bounced twice, still spinning, then rolled back to my waiting arms.

A voice from the hallway shouted, “What was that?” Paint stuck her lizardy snout around the corner, and was utterly flabbergasted when I did it again. “How did you do that? Can you teach me?”

“See, she’s fun,” I said to Mimi. “Sure thing, Paint!”

“Well sure; she’s got fingers too.” Mimi waved a tentacle and went back to sorting the boxes while I showed Paint how to use vital engine components for childhood tricks.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

#another short one #while I juggle projects and also figure out the new posting interface #it looks like I might not need to paste things in one paragraph at a time anymore??#fingers crossed #my writing #the Token Human #writeblr #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #short stories #very short #but fun #aliens #hula hoops

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dotieeee · 10 months

Text

A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK one-shot

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x you, afab reader

Warnings: dark!Morpheus, obsessive behaviour, dark!Dream won't take 'no' for an answer, disturbing themes like kidnapping, imprisonment, isolation, etc, 18+ only!!

Inspired by this ask for @roguelov See: https://www.tumblr.com/roguelov/721739134130143232/this-isnt-smut-but-dream-has-strong-miette?source=share

Summary: You were at the cusp of making a life for yourself when you bought a loaf of bread for a stranger, who seemed a little bit too taken with such a nice gesture.

When you were a kid, everybody around you seemed to think you got a great life ahead of you. You kept hearing them comment how bright you were, how talented, how lucky your parents were to have such a behaved, wonderful child - and for a time, it got to your head.

Until life proved you weren't really any of those things.

It started creeping in when you went away to college. You had a taste of freedom, of zero expectations, and a glimpse of a world suddenly leagues beyond yourself. It was one class at first, then another, until you started dropping out of every class and left college altogether.

Many therapy sessions, and a couple of therapists later, you found out what it was called: burnout. It just so happened it plagued you a little early in life.

In retrospect, perhaps you could've tried harder - if you had just snoozed your alarm off a little less; if you had just grit your teeth and stomached your way through a few more algebra periods instead of sitting alone in that little corner of the library, reading whatever, hidden from a world you barely knew - perhaps it all would've been different.

Perhaps, you wouldn't be stuck in this small, glass cage floating in a vast chasm, in a place you hadn't thought existed even in your wildest dreams.

It was a day like any other, you supposed: the day you met him. You had to go to work, to a desk job that you actually liked, writing for a local food magazine. You were quite good at it too - it's a skill you had when you were quite young and had not had a chance to cultivate until late. Sure, you were barely making ends meet and had very little time to spare, what with taking a certificate course at a nearby university and recently moving out of your parents' house to rent your own little apartment, but you were feeling optimistic for the first time in a long while. Your boss just let it slip the other day that you were due for a well-deserved promotion soon. It was a slow process, but you were finally on your way to getting your life back together. You had a future you looked forward to.

Having already established your morning routine, you were on your way early to the office and decided to stop for coffee at this corner bakeshop you had once featured in one of your articles. The smell of freshly baked bread distracted you from a mental draft you were making for an article due tonight, so on impulse, you asked the cashier for a plain butter croissant at the counter. You looked to your right where the pastries were to see whether you wanted something else (the danishes looked scrumptious). You opened your mouth to ask the other lady behind the bread counter for a cherry danish, but her attention was already on the man beside you, clad in a thick, woollen black coat, collar upturned, his chiselled jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly at the question the lady posed for him.

"Uh, sir? I asked what you'd like to have?"

He tilted his head imperceptibly and for a moment, you thought he couldn't speak, until he opened those pursed lips, and finally, came out the most velvety, alluring voice you've ever heard: "I'd like some bread, please."

"Well, we've got quite a lot of them," the lady replied slowly as if she was trying her best not to be snarky at the stranger. "Might I recommend the baguette? It's fresh out of the oven."

The man nodded curtly as the lady picked the steaming bread from the basket display using a pair of tongs and placed it inside a brown paper bag.

"That'll be one twenty-five, sir."

The man made no move to shuffle in his pockets for money. In fact, he stayed still, stiff as a board, staring at the lady behind the counter who was getting rather irritated at his dawdling, probably keeping her from attending to the growing line of other customers waiting to get their breakfast. Perhaps, he didn't have money? Perhaps, just like your first few weeks out of your parents' house, he was struggling and he had no one else to depend on?

"I-I'll pay for it."

You didn't know what it really was that compelled you to say it - maybe it was that draft you were itching to get to, maybe you found empathy in his situation, whatever it was - at that time, you had no regrets. Seemingly surprised by the gesture, the man in the black coat, with his dishevelled hair and his pale countenance, stared at you intensely through those long eyelashes of his, and for a few moments, you held his gaze.

His eyes. They were a nice shade of ocean blue. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen.

You would later discover they could bleed to depthless black - ruthless, vindictive, inhuman.

The cashier handed you your change and your croissant, effectively breaking the spell the stranger beside you had on you. The cherry danish all but ignored, you flashed the man a small smile and headed out of the bakeshop, going about your merry way to the office with nothing but that article in mind.

And for the next two weeks, you had already put the rather bizarre incident (man) behind you, having been assigned to another place to visit and write about.

The man, however, never forgot.

The place you had been assigned to, called the New Inn, actually belonged to a professor in your university. You've had quite a lot of fun in his classes, so this was a gig you were pretty excited about.

It was a little over five in the afternoon when you stepped inside Professor Gadling's pub. He was already there in the corner booth, grading several essays. He put them aside as you arrived and asked a waiter to bring you both coffee. You were in the process of bringing out your digital recorder for the interview when you heard a voice so familiar it sent shivers down your spine.

"Hob."

Completely taken by surprise, you dropped the recorder to the floor, and it landed just a few inches from a pair of black boots. You tried to reach for it, but a pale, bony hand picked it up and wordlessly handed it to you. You looked up, only to get lost in a pair of ocean-blue eyes focused entirely on you.

It was the stranger from the bakeshop.

You took the recorder, muttering a flustered 'thank you,' before Professor Gadling greeted him like an old friend. He then introduced you to the stranger, who oddly enough just stared at you the entire time.

"She's interviewing me for the pub. I'll be featured in a magazine, can you believe it?" Professor Gadling said to the stranger who stepped inside the booth, intending to take the empty seat directly across from you. Turning to you, he stated, "This is my friend -"

"You may call me Morpheus." The man interrupted, a ghost of a smile visible on his usually blank features. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

It was unnerving the way he held your gaze without blinking, but perhaps it was just your imagination - after all, you hadn't had anything to eat since that leftover Chinese noodles this morning.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” was all you could come up with.

You were grateful when the waiter arrived with two cups of coffee and a dessert platter, and the interview with the professor went well and without interruptions. You both had so much fun, you ended up having dinner and drinks at the pub, and while it struck you odd that your third, silent companion did not partake in any single morsel of the food, by the time the evening ended at half-past ten, you had enough material for your article and were in great spirits. You thanked him for being such a gracious host and politely bid your farewell, as you were anxious to get a headstart on the draft.

The three of you simultaneously got to your feet - Professor Gadling to walk you outside, and the odd man named Morpheus trailing behind.

"Do come by again, my dear, and good luck with the article. I know you'd do a fantastic job." The professor said as he waved farewell outside the pub. He turned to Morpheus, who stood just a few feet away, watching the interaction, and gestured to him inside - presumably for them to continue their conversation - but as soon as you waved goodbye, he made a beeline for you, stopping just a few inches away and towering over you.

Too close, you thought. Wait, were his eyes twinkling? It must’ve been the streetlamp, the lights outside were pretty dim.

"I would like to accompany you on your walk home."

His words threw you off because they were so unexpected. He had no reason to do so, after all. Shyly, you beamed at him and replied, "I'd appreciate it, Morpheus, but I wouldn't like to impose...weren't you meeting with the professor?"

Professor Gadling, who apparently was in earshot of your conversation, waved you away.

"No, it's fine, dear. Besides, a young lady such as yourself shouldn't be walking alone at night. I'll see you some other time, my friend," he added, winking at Morpheus, who just tilted his chin in reply.

The professor had a point. You lived nearby, that was true, but the streets weren't safe on a Friday night, especially at this hour. You chewed on the insides of your cheek, nervous at the fact that you have not had anyone walk you home in a long while.

It's just a walk home. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Okay."

You would come to regret your response.

***

Inwardly, Morpheus rejoiced at the thought of you lowering your guard with him. He motioned with a hand to let you lead the way, not that he needed it - in two weeks after your fateful encounter at the bakeshop he had gotten to know every little detail he needed to know about you, including where you lived, of course. He had seen the little apartment himself when you were out at work, and while it irked him that you had to live in such a humble abode, he knew through your dreams that you had filled the apartment with love and considered it your sanctuary. It wouldn't matter once he took you home to his kingdom as his lover - for you, he'd craft an entire palace carved in precious stones in the blink of an eye, and it would be your sanctuary, just as much as this tiny home.

He did a fine job, too, of luring you into the place his centuries-old friend now owned. It took him only one dream, planted during your boss’s deepest slumber, for you to get sent right where Morpheus wanted you to be. All this planning and you were right there, with him, just as the fates would have it.

He had to ask you tonight. He has waited long enough.

***

You were just a few blocks away from your apartment building when you finally gained the courage to break the awkward silence between you two.

"Thank you for walking me home," you said quietly as you eyed him sideways. Your eyes widened at the sight that greeted you: he had a genuine, warm smile on his face you'd never seen on him before, and if his demeanour is anything to go by, you knew this was a rarity.

He looked like a prince, even with his hair sticking out in all directions.

"It is I who should be thanking you for your kindness to me at that establishment," he spoke with conviction. "I have not forgotten."

Surprised, but overall glad that he remembered, you matched his expression as best you can and replied, "You're welcome."

Nothing was ever exchanged until you reached your apartment door, but he seemed to draw closer to you, your shoulders almost touching.

Your hand was already at the keys to the doorknob when you asked him if he wanted to come in.

"For tea, perhaps?" You added. "I couldn't help but notice you didn’t eat at dinner, so…”

It was a last-minute decision, seeing as he was kind enough to ensure you got home safely. He could do with a few biscuits, too, in your opinion, judging by his pallor and his refusal to eat anything at the pub.

There it was again - that captivating smile, but behind it, you see a flash of something else entirely. It was gone even before you could fully take it in, so you shrugged inwardly. The hallway’s lighting has always been too dark to see a damn thing.

“You need not concern yourself over me, I am much stronger than I look,” he said in a light, teasing tone. “However, your effort would be appreciated.”

“Oh, it’s no problem!” You waved him off and pushed the door open to your home. “I just hope you don’t mind tea without milk, I haven’t done any grocery shopping yet…”

Morpheus followed you inside, closing the door behind him, as you went off to your room to drop your bag on the bed and set up your laptop on your work desk. As soon as you got out of your room, you found him with his back to you, rummaging through the copies of the magazine you wrote for.

“Nothing interesting in those, I’m afraid. Still, not bad for a would-be writer, don’t you think?”

Chuckling to yourself, you made your way to the tiny kitchen to put the electric kettle to boil, then rummaged through the cupboards for a mug you were saving for when you had guests over. Not that you’ve ever had any - so far, he was the first you’ve had since you moved in.

“‘A would-be writer?’”

The proximity of his voice startled you, seeing as you thought he had still been reading back in the living room. It’s admittedly only a few steps away, but you hadn’t heard him approach. He was at the kitchen doorway, casting a long shadow in the dimly lit space. You had forgotten to turn the lights on, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“You give yourself very little credit for such riveting work,” he said as he closed the distance between you. The kettle had just turned off by itself, so you concentrated on pouring the boiling water on the mug and dropping a Ceylon tea bag inside. Leaning on the tiled counter, you watched the tea leaves bleed into the water, turning it to a lovely amber colour.

“I don’t know about that -”

Your sentence was cut short as you felt his fingertips subtly stroke your elbow, giving you goosebumps all over your arm.

He’d gotten so close…

Scooping up the mug with both hands, you turn around to hand him the mug, only to find yourself inches away from him you almost spill the hot liquid on his woollen coat.

“Your writing has soul. I should know: I have read every word you have ever written.”

Blinking up at him, you saw him dip his head closer to yours as his pale, warm hands enclosed around yours, still holding the tea.

You were trembling, it seemed, but he stilled it.

“Th-thank you," you whispered, unable to avert your gaze from those piercing blue eyes that seemed to pin you to place, as was his tall, imposing form enclosing you between him and the kitchen counter. He was so close you could feel the heat emanating from him. "That means so much to me.”

Or was it the heat from your cheeks you felt?

Seemingly oblivious to your increasingly flustered state, Morpheus made a deliberate move to extricate the cup of tea from your grasp so he could set it back down behind you (it was probably already over-brewed, you thought), while you try to compose yourself and ignore his fingers softly grazing your knuckles. You didn't have much time, however, because the next thing you knew was those same hands cupping your cheeks and his soft lips brushing over yours in a chaste kiss that stole your breath completely.

You felt him release his hold on you, perhaps to observe your reaction. Perhaps, you could’ve pushed him away right there and then; screamed at him for touching you and thrown him out of your home; but you couldn’t summon your limbs to respond. He took your momentary lapse of judgement to crash his lips on yours once more - it was a more heated, more insistent kiss, and as if to seal you to him, his hands travelled to your back to encase you in an embrace and pushed you further into the counter.

This was wrong.

It was all your instincts could tell you. So you heeded them and pushed against the lapel of his coat with all your strength. It was like pushing against a wall, but you managed to wriggle free from his grasp, so you made an effort to put as much distance between you and him as your tiny kitchen would allow. You glanced immediately at his face to gauge his expression, and to your utter shock, his eyes had gone entirely black. One blink, and it was blue once more, maybe even a tad regretful.

It’s the lighting in this damn kitchen, you assured yourself.

“I understand I may have been too forward,” he began, “But I assure you, my intentions are pure. I have waited for this since our fateful meeting.” He took slow steps towards you, and unconsciously you backed away until your back hit the fridge. There was nowhere else to back into. He halted as soon as he sensed your guard up.

“Morpheus, it was just a loaf of bread, really…”

Morpheus’s eyes softened visibly at your words and simply continued, “And by that selfless act, you have saved me in more ways than you could ever understand. I have held you in my heart since, my precious little saviour.”

“I-I'm sure it's nothing...” you stammered.

“Allow me the honour of courting you, and in turn, you shall know of my gratitude, and my love, until the end of my days.”

Your heart sank at his declaration. Somehow, you knew in your heart he meant every word he said. You couldn’t have this, not when everything in your life was just starting to fall into place. You put on the kindest smile you could muster and spoke slowly as you chose the right words, hoping he wouldn’t be too downcast with what you were about to say to him.

“I'm sure you're a wonderful man, Morpheus. I just…I don't think I can make that commitment right now. I mean, I just met you, and all I know about you is that you’re Professor Gadling’s friend.”

“That can be rectified.”

You let out a sigh. This was going to be difficult, but you really didn’t like the idea of egging him on. “I know that, but…I don’t think I have time for that, you know?”

“How so?” he asked in a low voice, tilting his head slightly.

“It's been a struggle just to get to where I am today… I have my work, which I love, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something right and…one wrong move could make me lose my footing. I’m sorry.”

Morpheus seemed unconvinced, taking a few steps forward to close that gap between you. “You need not worry yourself over such trivial matters. I know what you dream of. I can give you the recognition you deserve, the stability you crave and more… Come with me and I can show you.”

He offered an outstretched hand, urging you to take it. But if you were being honest, you just wanted to crawl into bed, the draft be damned. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on you.

“‘Come with you…?’ I'm sorry, please don't take this the wrong way, I'm sure you mean well…but-but-th-this isn't really a good time for this…” you stammered as you crossed your arms to make a point, which you hoped he’d finally take. “I think I'd like to be alone now, please. I-I have that…thing I want to finish, and it's getting late…I’m sorry, Morpheus. I really am.”

Morpheus’s hand lowered steadily, but all the softness he had in his expression was gone without a trace, replaced with cold, hard eyes and furrowed brows. The warmth you have loved your apartment for all but disappeared, replaced with a clammy air that seemed to come from…from him.

“You have no idea what you've just turned away…nor who I am, and what I can do,” came Morpheus’s voice, lowered to an unrecognisable timbre. “I will give you this final chance to amend your answer, my little saviour.”

“E-excuse me?” you said, fighting the urge to run away from him and hide. This was your home, you had no reason to. Who the hell was he to threaten you in your own home? “I'd like you to leave, please, or I'm calling the police…”

He was only a few feet away from you now, and the wind somehow grew stronger, you could feel its rough caress on your skin.

Sand.

The light in your kitchen turned on without a warning, and your eyes widened at the sight of the man you had so carelessly allowed into your home:

A dangerous man - now a being transforming right before you - with chilling black eyes, a heavy flurry of sand circling him, and waves of black smoke emanating from his growing form…

Paralyzed in utter fear, your heart pounding in your ears, all you could do was hold on to the fridge as you watched him approach your cowering form on the floor. Gone was that princely face you shared a gentle kiss with, replaced by a bony, skeletal mask with hollow cheekbones, his mouth contorted in a snarl that revealed razor-sharp fangs.

His voice echoed as he spoke, raspy and deafening:

“I am quite disappointed in you, my precious saviour. No matter: I am not unmerciful.” A pale hand, now with blackened, sharpened nails, made an appearance before you. “Take my hand, my beloved, and I shall forgive your error.”

In your terrified state, all you could muster was an adamant shake of your head.

This can’t be real. It couldn’t be.

“I’m dreaming, I'm-I’m dreaming this, this can’t be real, you’re no-not real…” hunched on the floor, hugging your legs, you muttered to yourself.

“Very well,” he thundered. “You have made your choice. ”

You would later discover just how real dreams could be, and that they weren’t that much different from the nightmares.

***

Morpheus released a small sigh as he watched you in your spherical compartment, deep in troubled slumber. He had not meant to frighten you that much with his nightmarish form. Admittedly, he could’ve done a much better job with reeling himself in, but the pain of your rejection felt to him like a thousand daggers being plunged into his heart. All he wanted was for you to be happy with him. He could’ve given you everything he had seen you dream of - he still could, but not before he heard from your sweet lips an admittance of your guilt, and a vow never to spurn him again.

He held the tiny sphere that contained your form in his palm and drew it closer to his face to get a better look at you. He had fashioned you a dress that brought out the colour of your eyes and soul: you looked ravishing, even in imprisonment. In his mind, he had played the memory of the kiss you had shared with him in your home a thousand times over. You were intoxicating, and the thought of kissing you again and finally marking your skin cemented his decision of keeping you in this space he crafted in his kingdom. You needed time to consider his proposal, that was to be expected. He would allow you the time you needed. All he had to do was assure you of your safety and well-being, seeing as scaring you even further might prolong his wait.

He knew you would wake soon, and he would explain his actions when you do. You would have no reason to refuse him, then.

***

You woke with a start, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, just to sit up and think.

You had lost count of the number of days you had spent in your glass enclosure, and there was nothing much to do except to observe your surroundings - nothing but a vast space, where distant stars glittered in the black tapestry that was space, with a single source of light in sight, like the sun, only that it offered no warmth. That, and to ruminate on the events that led you to this situation.

You remembered when you first came to, locked in this glorified cage. You still thought you were dreaming then, so you did everything you could to try waking yourself up, only none of it worked. That was when he appeared.

Dream of the Endless, he had called himself. The King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm.

He claimed to rule the place he had taken you to, which he called the Dreaming. He had then explained that everything humanity (‘your kind,’ you recalled him saying) had ever dreamed of in its sleep was as real as everything it sees, hears, and feels in its waking hours and that he presided over them since the first living creature dreamed, and will do so until the end of all life.

He had revealed that he had watched over you, your dreams and your waking hours, since your first meeting, and that he had not meant to scare you, only that he wished for you to accept his advances.

That was the first of his many attempts to get you to say ‘yes.’

He would ask in many ways: a long walk in this garden he called the Fiddler’s Green; a sumptuous dinner in one of his many grand halls; an adventurous tryst in one of the humans’ dreams. He had promised that if you agreed to be courted by him and be with him, he would take you out of your enclosure and release you, allow you to roam his kingdom as his lover, forever wanting nothing and lavishing in all the riches and trinkets he could offer.

From then, you knew you would never be allowed back into the life you had worked so hard to build, humble as it may have been.

At first, your response to his attempts of coaxing you into a relationship with him was a string of incoherent curses and screaming. After a while, they were plain ignored - his face would remain blank every time, if not a tad disappointed, or hurt.

You didn’t care.

But you were also lying if you said it hadn’t worn out your resolve. This day was one of them.

You missed food. Not that you were ever hungry - he had removed hunger from you in your imprisonment. He had given you the gift of dreamless sleep as well, but in your time alone with nothing to do except wake and sleep, you’d give almost anything to have dreams again. You had no other company except him and the vast, endless space beyond your cage that he had conjured for you. You being sealed away from everything was driving you closer to insanity every day, and that was his design: to make you desperate enough to submit to his will.

Without warning, your hair stood at the back of your neck, your senses on high alert.

Dream of the Endless had arrived.

“My precious little saviour,” he greeted in that deep, velvety voice you had grown to hate and find comfort in at the same time. “I have come for you.”

Your captor had a warm smile on his regal features, one that didn’t match his true intentions. You stared at him with a blank expression and let his greeting go unanswered.

“Will you join me for a walk in my garden?”

He kept his eye contact with you as he waited for your response. It unnerved you to no end, the way he held your gaze with those ocean-blue eyes of his, knowing a single ‘no’ from you would instantly turn it to the black ones you have known to fear. When you opened your mouth to speak, it actually hurt your throat - you hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Will you be locking me up again, after?”

He grinned at you and tilted his head slightly. “If you behave and do as I say, I will not.”

Only a single tear that escaped from your eye betrayed that gnawing feeling of defeat in your gut. Finally swallowing whatever pride you had left, you made a decision.

“Yes.”

You should never have bought him that damned loaf of bread.

***

Just a little one-shot I wanted to write to get myself out of a writing rut I've been stuck with wanting Comatose to be perfect it stressed me out too much :// I will still work on it, I promise! I just need to get this out the way to get my writing mojo back :D

PART II here!!!!

Thank you for reading!!!! Please engage and all that it's really appreciate iiiit

***

#dark!dream x reader #dark!dream x you #dark!morpheus fic #dark!morpheus x you #dark!morpheus x reader #dark!dream oneshot #dark!dream of the endless #dark!morpheus fanfic #the sandman #the sandman fanfiction

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thirsty4villains · 1 year

Text

Cool Heat

Summary: You're an assistant for the Avengers. Loki has been hiding up in his room for the past week. You go to check on him and he's reverted back to his Jotun form, but he's not quite himself. The two of you discover that Jotuns go into cycles of heat, and Loki hasn't been in his Jotun form for over a millennia...

Rating: Explicit (smut in future chapters)

Warnings/Tags: THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN SMUT, and 1 chapter will have some dubcon, Loki lives in Stark Tower with the Avengers (because my brain is perpetually stuck in 2012 Tumblr era), sleep sex, PIV, smut, humor, romance, Jotun!Loki, more tags to be added

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CHAPTER 1

“Has anyone seen Loki lately?” Steve asked one Saturday afternoon. Tony Stark, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, and you were all hanging around the lounge area in the penthouse of Stark Tower when Steve had walked in and posed the question.

You still couldn’t believe that you were The Avengers’ assistant and that you regularly spent time with them in Stark Tower. You started as an intern for S.H.I.E.L.D. back as a senior in high school years ago and now, here you were, filling out reports and helping the Avengers out in any way you can.

“Don’t tell me you’re complaining about it,” Clint responded. “This is the most peaceful it’s been in a while.”

He laid his head back and slumped deeper into the couch.

“You’re not worried, are you, Cap?” Tony said teasingly.

“About the guy who tried to take over Earth a few years back and now has access to highly confidential S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets? Yeah, I could say I’m a little worried.”

“I think he’s just been in his room all this time,” you piped up. You were busy multitasking eating a sandwich and going over some S.H.I.E.L.D. documentation that Coulson decided to drop on you last minute.

“Yeah, he’s just been kind of keeping to himself,” Bruce said. “Well, except for…”

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Except for what?” Natasha asked, turning her head, finally looking up from the magazine she was reading. However, you were fairly certain she was listening the entire time.

“Well, last night. Or the other night, I can’t remember — it doesn’t matter. Anyway, the other night I got hungry and went for a midnight snack, and when I came to the kitchen, Loki was there too. He had the fridge open, but he wasn’t looking for anything. He just had his eyes closed and just… stood in front of the open freezer. It was only for a second and then he noticed I was there, so he shut the fridge and went back to his room.”

“Maybe he was sleepwalking?” You asked.

Bruce shrugged, then shook his head. “I dunno, but also when he saw me he kind of… snarled. I thought I imagined it because I was half awake, but maybe he did.”

“Okay, that is weird,” Tony said, shoveling some chips into his mouth.

“Should we tell Thor about this?” Steve asked.

“And say what?” Tony asked. “Hey Thor, sorry to bother you while on your vacation with Jane but Loki was standing in the fridge and he kinda growled at Bruce. Is he evil again? Please advise.”

Steve crossed his arms. “I just think someone should check on him at the very least. When is the last time anyone has seen him, aside from Bruce?”

The room fell quiet as the cogs in people’s brains turned.

“Monday,” Natasha said.

“Monday, yeah,” Clint said.

“Sunday, I think,” Tony offered.

“Monday for me too,” you said.

“Ok, Sunday or Monday. Today’s Saturday. That means no one has seen him in almost a week, except for Bruce the other night. Something must not be right.”

“So… Who’s gonna check on him? Not gonna be me,” Tony said. “I’m not gonna piss him off.”

The room was silent again.

“Oh come on, really. No one?” Steve asked.

“Why not you?” Natasha rebutted.

“Because I’m fairly certain he likes me the least. He’ll probably just slam the door in my face.”

“Oh my god, okay, here.” Tony roused from his chair and went to the kitchen, pulling out a box of toothpicks from a drawer.

He proceeded to snap them, throwing tiny bits of toothpick into the garbage can.

“Come on, all of you. We’re drawing straws. Everyone get up and pick one.”

Each person moved to grab a toothpick from Tony. As you took yours, you hoped to God that you wouldn’t get the short stick.

You’d been working alongside the Avengers for 6 months – a little time after Loki joined. In that time, you’d gotten to know each person well. Some you were closer with than others, but overall you got along with everybody. Loki, however, was a different story. Most days you weren’t sure if he tolerated or hated you; other days, on the rare occasion, he treated you very kindly and joked with you. On any given day you couldn’t be certain what kind of attitude he would have. At this point you decided he was just a reformed asshole, and usually kept your distance.

Your last interaction with Loki on Monday was curt. You attempted to make small talk with him about his weekend, but many of his answers were one-worded, so the conversation wasn’t really a dialogue. He seemed agitated, but not more than usual. Maybe he was feeling depressed and that’s why he’s been holing himself up in his room?

It was time to show the toothpicks off. Everyone outstretched their hands and revealed theirs. You all compared sizes and, lo and behold, of course you had the short stick.

“Oh, great,” you said, blowing a puff of air out of your mouth.

“Thank god it wasn’t me,” Natasha said.

“Or me,” Clint responded.

“Phew,” said Bruce, deliberately avoiding eye contact with you.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” you said. “I’ll go figure it out. If he kills me, you’re all to blame and Tony’s paying for my funeral.”

You tossed your tiny toothpick into the trash and went to the elevator, hitting the ‘10’ button, the floor where most bedrooms were. At the end of the hall on the left side was Loki’s. In all the time you worked for the Avengers, you’d never gone to his room, not even knocked on his door. Loki was very private about his space and you respected that.

You brought up a fist, but hesitated, like a force prevented you from knocking on the door. Almost no one ever bothered him while he was in his room, and you were just a lowly human compared to superheroes and literal gods. The last thing you needed was a god’s ire directed at you.

Hopefully you could just knock on the door and find out he snuck out for the afternoon, and avoid an interaction altogether.

Knock knock.

Silence. You waited.

Knock knock knock.

You waited some more.

“Loki?” You asked. “I’m here to —“

“Here to what, mortal? Antagonize me?” Loki said from behind the door. His interruption startled you.

“We haven’t seen you in days, we just want to make sure you’re okay.”

The god swung open the door violently. You took a step back, alarmed by the sudden interaction. Loki’s face was deeply perturbed, and blue.

Blue!

And not just his face: his neck, his ears, his hands. His entire body was a deep blue. What’s more was that his eyes were entirely ruby red, whites and all. If you didn’t know him you would have gone running back down the hall. It was quite a terrifying sight to see, like a demon just opened the door. And yet, there was something about this appearance that beguiled you.

“I am alive,” he said. “Happy? Now leave me in peace.”

“Loki… what happened to you?”

He groaned. “It is the business of no one here. You will tell no one. Not Iron Man, not the Captain, none of them. You hear me? Make up a lie if they must know.”

“Loki, if you’re sick I want to help. Or did some magic you cast go wrong? I’ll tell them a lie, just tell me if there’s anything I can do.”

For a brief moment, his look of irritation and anger softened.

“I don’t think you can. But it was no magic, and I do not believe that I am sick.”

“Then why are you blue?”

He was quiet, then gave a long, drawn out sigh.

You expected to come here and get a door slammed in your face. Instead, Loki began explaining to you a part of him you never knew. Loki wasn’t Asgardian, he was something called Jotun, and he didn’t know about this for a millennia. He explained the Jotuns to you, then went on to say Odin kept his parentage a secret from him as a way to protect a peace treaty between the Asgardians and the Jotun. But what’s worse is that Odin also brought Thor and Loki up believing that Jotuns are barbaric murderers.

It was quite the info dump you weren’t prepared to hear.

Loki continued: “Despite my… monstrous heritage, there is still much I don’t know about that aspect of myself. A few days ago I began to feel ill; faint and light-headed, so I laid down on my bed. When I woke up, I no longer had my Asgardian appearance but my Jotun one, and I have been unable to change back since.”

“Are you weaker in this form? And are you positive this isn’t some kind of disease?” you asked.

“I am fairly certain, and all of my capabilities are at their fullest. However, I have been feeling agitated, angry, and frankly just on edge. It’s becoming worse by the day. I’ve confined myself to my room for the safety of myself and others, but I’m afraid that this… affliction is not going to cure itself on its own.”

“Maybe Tony can help? Or Bruce?”

Loki chuckled sardonically. “How would they? I have little knowledge of Jotun biology, what help could they possibly offer?

“Maybe…”

“Enough chatter, woman!” he exclaimed, making you jump. “I will find a solution on my own. Your concern has been noted. Leave me now, would you kindly?”

He shut the door in your face. You retreated back to the lounge in the penthouse. When you arrived, everyone stopped what they were doing to look at you.

“Well?” asked Steve.

“He’s alive,” you said. “And very grumpy, I would advise not to bother him. He told me he has some sort of Asgardian illness and it should go away soon.”

“That settles that. Great work,” said Tony. “I’m going to my lab now if anyone needs me.”

“I have some stuff to look over, so I’ll be going home for the day,” you said. “Ring me if you need me.”

When you got home to your apartment, you did do some work poring over your S.H.I.E.L.D. files like you said, but more of your time was spent wondering about Loki. You couldn’t stop thinking about how his true heritage was kept from him for a thousand years. It didn’t excuse what he did in New York but it sure did explain a lot. You were aware of his jealousy toward Thor, but the pieces connected a little more firmly now regarding his angry and irritable nature.

The other thing that you couldn’t expel from your mind were those ruby red eyes surrounded by sapphire skin. They were piercing, and sometimes when you blinked you could swear that you saw them flash in your retinas. They were frightening yet alluring. It was a shame he seemed to hate his true form so much – not that his usual one was ugly by any means.

Although Loki said to leave him be, you felt dreadfully sorry for him, on both accounts of his history and his current predicament. If he didn’t speak up soon, you would check on him again.

#loki x reader #loki/reader #jotun loki #loki #loki x you #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #jotun!loki #jotun #cool heat #fanfic #fic #loki fic #loki fanfic #romance

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