#but there's still characters i must get to eventually!
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Okay well as you may know from looking at my blog for five seconds, I saw the matinee for Starkid Innit. During the interval and after the show I wrote down some notes. I tried to get them in chronological order but my memory is dogshit and I definitely missed some stuff, I hope you appreciate it though.
Outside:
. EVERYONE SUNG GRANGER DANGER
. IT WAS SO GOOD (except for the high note lmao)
. EVERYONE SUNG DAYS OF SUMMER
. EVERYONE A SMALL GROUP OF PEOPLE SUNG GOIN' BACK TO HOGWARTS
Act 1:
. The Nightmare Time sting punched me in the face
. The shout-out to the confused parents
. BRIAN + MEREDITH IN TGWDLM IS EVERYTHING TO ME
. High School Is Killing Me, Literal Monster and Nerdy Prudes Must Die all got mashed together!
. Corey!Richie is my Roman Empire
. Jaime in NPMD….
. Jaime had a different line to PJ’s original in Literal Monster. I couldn't hear half of it but it was different
. JEFF!MAX
. THE AUDIENCE SINGING RICHIE'S PART!!!!!! I'M NOT A LOSERRRRRRR
. TOGETHER!!!!!
. OUR DOORS ARE OPEN
. Jaime singing Sami/Harry ABOUT HER DOG (Nori)
. The audience whipping out the phone cameras
. CLARK SINGING I WAS GAVE ME SUCH INTENSE CHILLS
. Joey finally giving the white, male side characters attention
. Joey changing “I know I'm not a star” to “I know I'm not Clark”
. He pointed the mic at the audience for the “DEFINITELY NOT!”
. Joey mistimed his jump 😔😔
. Genuinely his best performance of Sidekick yet
. Joey making fun of Brian for not getting a big solo
. Brian kept pretending to beat him up, it was brilliant
. Not Over Yet is definitely Brian's song, shut up
. Brian accidentally singing the same verse twice (How does he always mess this song up?!?!?)
. My mum took a photo during the “EVIL PLAAAAANSSSS” bit and it was right when Brian was choking Joey
. “So look alive and don't forget”
“FORGET WHAT?”
. FEAST OR FAMINE
. Rogues Are We still goes so hard
. Rogues Medley without Kick It Up A Notch is weird, but Kick It Up A Notch without Dylan would definitely be weirder
Intermission:
. Ice cream :D
Act 2:
. Starting with We Got Work To Do is so iconic
. THERE'S BEEN A CHANGE IN THE CLIMATE, SOMETHING'S IN THE AIR, WE FEEL THE HEAT, NO NEED TO DEFINE IT, WE DON'T REALLY CARE
. MEREDITH REQUESTED BACK ON TOP!!!!!!!! AND IT WAS SO GOOOOD!!!!!!!
. Joey shouted “Draco, get on the floor!” at Lauren
. ALL THE UNDERRATED SONGS
. I love how it was hyped up like it was going to be Boy Toy, and then just straight up wasn't lmaooo
. Brian finally got the slow, sexy Hideous Creatures (Take that, Nick Lang!)
. Okay I'm trying to remember the order of the underrated songs they did
. Hideous Creatures (Lauren)
. Pays To Be an Animal (Corey) (He didn't sit in the spotlight and someone yelled “TO THE LEFT, COREY”)
. Get In My Mouth (Jeff) (He fully sprawled out on the stage it was hilarious)
. Land of the Dicks (Jaime)
. Hermione Can't Draw (Meredith) (She sung it so well I briefly didn't recognise the song)
. THEY MANAGED TO WORK IN LUPIN / BRIAN CAN'T SING YESSSS
. I genuinely cannot remember what Brian sung
. Gotta Find His Dick (Joey, and eventually everyone)
. The entire “Oh you wanna know where I got my shirt?” bit
. Brian, Jaime and Joey got it from Primark, Meredith got it from “Primed-mrak”, Lauren’s was a family heirloom, Corey got it from Gucci and Jeff got it from America, from Pri-mart (He made the guy on the drums do a baddum tsh)
. COREY SINGING SHOW STOPPIN' NUMBER. OH MY GOD. (The entire crowd joined in, also, Jeff and Jaime as Steve and Stu)
. Everyone cheering so loud when Joey and Lauren came on stage, and them claiming we had no idea what they were going to sing, and it was actually a completely new song (it was Granger Danger obviously)
. And them continuing to claim it was new throughout the song
. As I expected, I almost cried during Not Alone. Also apparently Darren thought it was going to be a big hit??? And just begrudgingly let them use it for A Very Potter Musical
. Super Friends!
. So sad Jeff’s mic was so quiet for “I WANNA BE A MODERN DANCER”
. THEY SUNG WANNABE BY THE SPICE GIRLS
. The fakeout of everyone leaving stage, then the band coming back on and playing the start of Goin' Back To Hogwarts
. “Darren's not here”
“I'LL DO IT”
. THE AUDIENCE DID THE FIRST PART OF GOIN' BACK TO HOGWARTS ALL BY OURSELVES
. JEFF DID DYLAN'S PART (but he didn't do “All of you to [city name] :( )
. Jeff pointed at various parts of the audience for “Welcome hotties, nerds and tools!” and then whispered “I'm so sorry” immediately after
. Singing (/ shouting) Goin' Back To Hogwarts along with hundreds of other Starkid fans was so exhilarating, I loved it and I almost cried (also I'm gonna be so hoarse tomorrow)
#starkid#starkid innit#it's starkid innit?#team starkid#starkid productions#joey richter#lauren lopez#jaime lyn beatty#brian holden#clark baxtresser#corey dorris#meredith stepien#jeff blim
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Hey! I was wondering. Does it still counts as plagiarism if one of your ideas gets tweaked, but the premise and even the character's motivation and personality remains the same in the story, although is with another name? (Not even the name if honest.)
How could I protect my work from this? More important, is there any way or it is possible to protect ideas? Or the protection only applies for the work itself?
Thanks in advance!
Tweaked Ideas and Plagiarism
Premises and ideas can't be protected. It's how the premise and ideas are executed that matters. One of my favorite examples of this is The Vampire Diaries vs Twilight. Premise-wise, they're almost identical...
🗸 17-year old "non-magical" girl protagonist
🗸 (she's actually secretly magical... sort of...)
🗸 Protagonist has parental issues
🗸 Mystical small town setting
🗸 Protagonist unaware of town's supernatural undercurrent
🗸 Protagonist meets hot "born-in-a-prior-century" vampire at school
🗸 His senses allow him to identify her among all other students
🗸 They fall in love
🗸 She gets sucked into supernatural shenanigans
🗸 She finds out she has friends who are secretly supernatural
🗸 Dangerous ancient council creates more shenanigans
🗸 Eventually she becomes a vampire
It looks bad on paper, but it's the myriad differences that make these stories completely unique. First, Bella is the polar opposite of Elena in terms of personality and situation. Bella's parents are alive but immature, Elena's parents died in a tragic accident. Bella moved to Forks to live with her father, Elena grew up in Mystic Falls. Edward was born in 1901, Stefan was born in 1846 (TV, 1490 books.) Edward has a big adoptive family. Stefan has his brother. Edward can't read Bella's mind, Stefan can read Elena's mind. Bella's supernatural friends are wolf shifters who are part of the local Indigenous tribe; Elena's supernatural friends include a werewolf, witch, and a vampire hunter. Bella can shield her mind from mind readers, Elena is a doppelgänger. Bella and friends fight an ancient council of vampires who micromanage the vampire world, Elena and friends fight a town council made up of anti-vampire humans.
The point is, the actual stories are very, very different despite the similarities in premise.
Now, I will say that if the premise is genuinely the same, and the character has the same appearance, personality, and even a similar name, that's a bit concerning. If you take a brutally honest look at the two works and find more similarities than differences, it's possible this person did over borrow. The problem is there may not be much you can do about it, but it depends on the situation. If you're both published but you published first, it's something you can take up with your agent or publisher, or if you don't have one, you can contact a copyright lawyer to explore your options. It's costly, however. If you can't afford this option, you can contact them and ask them to take it down, but they're not obligated to. Outside of that, there isn't much you can do.
There honestly isn't much you can do to protect yourself from plagiarism. It's part of the risk we take in putting our work out there. Again, if you're agented, have a publisher, or can hire a copyright attorney, you may find you have some legal recourse, especially if the plagiarism is glaring and they're making money off what they stole. Otherwise, you just have to grin and bear it. But the truth is, given the wealth of stories being published every day, plagiarism isn't that common of an occurrence. (Although, it's increasing now somewhat with the advent of AI...)
And I'll tell you, the harsh reality is you may feel like a work is so similar to yours it must be an intentional rip-off, but our brains have a way of making mountains out of molehills when it comes to spotting similarities. Nine out of ten times it's just not as similar as you think it is.
Other relevant posts:
Similarities vs Plagiarism
Plagiarism vs Reference vs Inspiration
Beta Reader Sees Similarity with Existing Character
Does My Book/Story Already Exist
Taking Inspiration from Another Story’s Premise
Afraid of Ideas Being Stolen or Copied Once Shared
Afraid of Plagiarism Accusation
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Hell Circles
Alright time for a soul-crashing post!
When I saw Edwin curling down on the floor in that room in Hell, trying to be as quiet as possible and not even trying to run when Charles found him, my mind faltered.
We know Edwin escaped Hell. So why did he look like he gave up? He hasn't been there for as long as the first time, I think even with hell's no-time he should have been able to feel this.
I explained it to myself in 2 ways, they aren't mutually exclusive and are both pretty painful to think about.
It was just this devastating to end up in Hell for the second time, and Edwin clearly didn't expect for anyone to come for his rescue. So his resilience and resolve weren't as strong as the first time or, rather, he felt broken by this sudden developement and didn't manage to bounce back from it yet (again, it wasn't very long this time). The boiling point of "I WILL get out of here again, everything be damned" wasn't reached yet. (As you can clearly see, I have no doubts whatsoever that he WOULD HAVE done this eventually, just after much more trauma and suffering. I'm so glad Charles came before all that.)
This is a psychological cycle. I often go through a similar one so I couldn't help remembering it. When you run as fast as you can and try your best to no avail until you're out of all the resources to go on, and so you give up. Curl up in the corner and hope the outside world won't notice you, give you some respite. The future seems bleak or non-existent. You give. up. It won.
And then over time the inner battery charges, or the desperation reaches its breaking point, so you grit your teeth and get up. And run and try again and again and again. "Impossible just means try again".
I thought Edwin must have went through similar cycles time after time. The first time he was dragged into hell, then the second. After every couple of "deaths".
The worst thing about it is that while real life has at least one escape (not recommended but as a last resort it's at least always there if everything becomes too unbearable), Edwin has none. His only choice is either to tremble in the corner forever (and who said the doll-spider won't notice him even so?) or to run and be torn to pieces. Forever is a very long time. Only with running there's still this very thin, very subtle hope to escape, so in a way this choice is unavoidable.
Oh, right, Edwin actually has another possible escape - into madness can you tell I'm fond of loveraftian horror. Locking himself up in his own mind might help, although I'm not sure it would have been effective enough. And honestly I'm glad he wasn't this broken after all.
So yeah that was fun to realize :')
Also Edwin doesn't handle change well, as we know from Charles' words. How jarring (beside the obvious) was it to be tossed from one demon to another? I bet the "punishment" changed, too. It must have felt devastating to figure out the way of handling one and get more used to it, more mentally stable, however horrible it might be, - just to be thrown into a completely new situation.
Let's add insult to the injury, shall we?
Look at the corridors Edwin was kept in. The greenish hue, the dim light that makes even the most spacious halls feel claustraphobic. It feels heavy, weights on your mind. There are no windows, no outside, forever. It's suffocating. This place is a pure torture on its own, even without demon doll head spiders.
All in all, I didn't like Edwin much when I first started watching, but after completing the series and rewatching on top of that, I admire him. To go through all these horrors and get out of them is worth that on its own. But Edwin retained his kindness, compassion, moral compass and a will to help others in need. He didn't grow callous, didn't lock himself away emotionally from the world fearing to be hurt again - at least not completely, not even close. I really didn't expect to come to respect and admire a teenage series character like that.
This show has a heart in it, it's living and beating and big and kind, and its characters reflect that in full.
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Enter Merla: Queen of Darkness!!! 🖤✨
I was pretty disappointed when VLD didn't explore the culture and politics of the Galra Empire more, especially after Lotor took the throne, and I was also quite disappointed with Merla's cameo. So I decided to take a crack at her design myself! Some backstory below!!
I made her Acxa's twin sister because while I don't believe it was confirmed, I always thought that 80's Merla's character must have been divided into the four women who became Lotor's generals in VLD, so why not make Merla and Acxa related? Plus in every piece of fiction you need to have at least one set of twins ;) That's just da rules babeyy~
Acxa and Merla are from Planet Drule (a loyal territory of the Galra Empire) and are half-Galra and half-Drule. They are not of royal descent, and since they were children they were looked down on because they are half-breeds. As the oldest, Acxa takes on the responsibility of looking after Merla, who over the years begins to grow restless with the two of them settling for low-ranking positions in the army and living a less than satisfying life.
One day exiled Prince Lotor comes to oversee the planet just as Merla is planning a coup to overthrow the corrupt Drule king. The coup fails, and wanting to protect her sister, Acxa takes the blame even though she had nothing to do with it. When she is sentenced to death, Lotor, seeing the potential and skill Acxa possesses, offers to pardon her in exchange for her loyalty to him, thus saving her life (it is my personal headcanon that Acxa is the first of the generals to be recruited). She accepts and tries to convince Merla to come with her, but Merla refuses and insists on staying, saying that she wants to change things on Drule, and that by leaving Acxa is abandoning her. The two part ways on bad terms, and do not see each other for many years.
Merla eventually succeeds in taking the throne, her followers assassinate the king, and she becomes queen of Drule. She and Acxa have the occasional run-in, which is how Lotor and the other generals get to know her more. There is still lingering resentment between the two sisters, however, particularly on Merla's part. The events of VLD proceed as normal up until the end of season 5, and I personally would like to take out Lotor killing Narti and the generals turning against him. Now emperor, Lotor works tirelessly to unite his people and deal with the growing Galra factions which plot to rise up against him.
News of Lotor's ascent to the throne spreads throughout the universe, and soon Queen Merla is paying a visit to the Empire and demanding an audience with him. She knows all about the Galra factions, including Sendak's Fire of Purification, and proposes that she and Lotor marry in order to combine the forces of both the Galra Empire and Planet Drule. If Lotor accepts, the two nations will become stronger than ever and no one will dare stand against them. If he refuses, Merla will merely seek support from the factions, perhaps even form an alliance with Sendak, who will eventually try to take the Galra throne himself.
What can this mean for not only the Galra Empire, but for Voltron and the Coalition as well?? What can this mean for Lotor and Allura's developing relationship??? For those who haven't seen the 80's show, Queen Merla debuts in the US-made 2nd season. She and Lotor are actually engaged for a time! Merla is cold, cunning, and calculating like Lotor, and perhaps even a little more manipulative. She enjoys being entertained and can on occasion be condescending.
And this is not meant to create any unnecessary love triangle between Merla, Lotor, and Allura. While Merla has people in her life she cares for and she respects Lotor, her first priority is maintaining her seat on the throne and looking after her people, so she really only sees Lotor as a means to gain more power. Lotor recognizes this, because he mostly shares the same mindset as her and can see the benefits of marrying her, regardless of his own feelings. And how does Allura feel about this whole matter?? 👀 Only time will tell, though it is also likely that the princess may be too proud to ever reveal how she truly feels. At the end of the day, I just think it would be fascinating to explore more of the politics of the VLD universe and the complications that come with ruling an entire empire whilst trying to keep alliances and territories intact. Plus it would make for some fun drama! Particularly in the romance category hehe.
#if you read all of that thank you so much 😖🙏#minamorsart#lotura#lotor#allura#merla#acxa#voltron#vld#voltron legendary defender#voltron art#vld art#my art#fan art#digital art#my comics#non star wars art
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Drawing a randomly generated Haikyuu character (almost) every day until I give up
82. Ikejiri Hayato
#haikyuu#ikejiri hayato#my art#1hqaday#more like 1hqaweek now#but there's still characters i must get to eventually!#drawing characters that mostly show up early on is always interesting bc the artstyle has changed a lot
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having one of those nights where i'm just. extremely frustrated about fatphobia's existence and the fact that whatever i do to try and change it will be a drop in the ocean and there'll always be people who think i'm just saying this because i'm lazy
#and by night i mean its 5am but shhhhh#what sucks is i was actually building my acting confidence back up quite a bit with my delirium stuff#and i still do wanna do more of that!#but i got reminded that regardless of how good an actor i am i don't meet the 'must be this skinny to have emotions' bar#so i could only ever play her over the internet where people can't see my body#which is especially dumb bc she has like 60% of a physical form at best and yet its always a skinny one#and like i love sandman but it has a fatphobia problem. and the show has not exactly rectified it#kinda wanna draw despair skinny and the other endless not to turn the whole depression = overweight thing on its head#bc hell depression also = underweight and frankly i'd rather have no fat characters at all than her be the only one#but i fear that would get misconstrued and i don't wanna bring down that kinda hate on my head#and like i know i can't change what i look like i've tried i gotta be happy with this eventually#but i see no difference between comic despair and myself in the mirror#and sometimes it makes me feel like im two minutes away from growing tusks#so whoooooo oversharing on the internet#just. i wanna punch something but the something is society so unfortunately that's not really possible#okay to rb if you want i give zero fucks about this being shared im just keeping it in the tags bc that's polite
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tears of the kingdom could have been so good if it were built around like, its story or its characters instead of being a clunky shell to show off the mechanic no one asked for that it forces you to use
#*#text#totk#mechanics#i had fun scuttling around in the depths for a while but that got old eventually. for obvious reasons#what i liked about zelda games was always the atmosphere and character interactions#like. one of my favorite games is twilight princess. which is. deeply unserious in many ways#bit it COMMITTED to its setting and what the writers went ham making sure#that it was still full of whimsy and affection.#totk doesn't have that. the characters are all 1) instruction manuals or 2) vehicles for what small and disparate semblances of plot#survived whatever disaster must have happened in development that made them cannibalize several different ideas#and stick them into the shell for the fucking. arm#totk plays like a gallery or again just an engine for the building thing.#it's pretty. the music is good. the building thing is well made. but as a zelda game totk Fucking Tanks#i HATE overinvolved mechanics. i HATE having to stop and rely on a Whole Process that i have to keep stocked#to get anything done. i've always liked loz again bc of characters and whimsy but also bc it's always been mechanically vert streamlined#and accessible to someone like me who is disabled and finds fiddling EXTREMELY tedious#you have one required tool per dungeon and they're QUICK they're SIMPLE they're A GOOD TIME#totk. to me. is just clunky and has no redeeming qualities outside of again being pretty and still sort of nominally letting you run around#collecting things. some of the side quests were cute. but even then the characters were very.#THE THING ABOUT ZELDA GAMES IS THAT IM used TO THEM BEING ABOUT. NOT JUST THE FUNCTION!!!!!!#there were things— many of them! sometimes most of them even!!!— there just for fun. again almost especially The Characters#totk is so goddamn UTILITARIAN on all levels ITS. CLUNKY and BORING i don't WANT to have to do 30 things just so i can do something else.#hey nintendo. if you have to force people to play your game. like if you specifically have an ''open'' game and then subsequently have to#manufacturer MANY blocks and caveats to the idea of ''do whatever have fun!!'' so that it's''but only how WE want you to''. maybe thats bad.#maybe you've done a bad job. if again. you have to FORCE players to go about things in the way and order that you want. it's no fun.#like even zelda games where you have less options and linear progression feel less restrictive bc like. they don't fucking punish you.#for. playing the game. you just can't do things. totk really punishes you for going off script. which like. why even do that.#anyway. this is all probably incoherent. i'm right tho.#wow there are so many typos. pretend there are not <3
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every time I check the tags for the heart of tomas I'm like. ah. this place is filled with people who have no idea what this series is about
#just thinking thoughts...#seeing some 'thomas was a total manipulative bitch' takes in there and I'm like.#he didn't kill himself because he wanted juli to love him back.#he killed himself because he wanted juli to love himself.#and he realized that as juli was he couldn't accept any sort of love for himself because juli perceived himself as a sinner#and THAT'S why thomas killed himself. he was universally loved by everyone;#so he commited a huge sin BY killing himself and it's a query to juli. do you love me any less because of my sins?#and if you can still find it in yourself to love me despite the fact I killed myself.#can you find it in yourself to love yourself too despite your own sins?#sorry. thot is like. the biggest piece of misread media that I passionately love#sorry there was another take that was like oskar and erich will LITERALLY have the best dynamic and then not end up together?? for what??#and well bestie I hate to break it to you. even though thot is oftentimes called a forerunner of bl.#it is actually not about boys getting together with other boys. it is about juli's religious journey#I get that if you're reading thot after reading a lot of modern bl it will seem weak and half-baked#because you're evaluating it from a 'the characters must eventually become a couple right?' standpoint#but it's not about that. free yourself from your shackles. come with me.#we can find it in ourselves to see worthy stories not just about loving other people but loving ourselves as well#I feel okay saying this bc like. ONE thot blog follows me#usually I'd complain in the dms to my friends though LOL
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i like the parallel of tinn and sound being two kids prone to perfectionism who just need and want to be shown love and kindness
#i'm simplifying a bit but yeah. the end of ep4 got to me#and it's like. sound is a different character than in the concept trailer and i am here for it#my school president#he was originally very charismatic and kind of an empty romantic rival ykwim?#but the sound we get here has kind of an abrasive personality#concept sound introduced himself to gun by hitting on him. this sound makes him quit the band. i love it!! he feels much more real to me#he kind of still has that persona but it's actually just how he pleases his audience! like. he must have a history of keeping people at#--arm's lenght and i am so excited to see what's next for him now that this band of goofballs adopts him#they are such good kids your honor#and also the way last ep ended i honestly wouldn't blame him if he fell for gun a bit (which leads back to my original point)#but i've seen some different theories and i am raising you: what it both?#what if sound develops this deep admiration for gun mixed with a growing crush on him that he eventually realizes will remain unrequited#and when he has to stop looking up at that pedestal he put gun on he will finally see the person who's been standing right there next tohim#that's the shit right there someone write this
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honey, can you… oh shit wait i forgot we’re not dating (yet)
© zhongrin | 2024 ✼ [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, neuvillette
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, fluff, non-established relationship, potential secondhand embarrassment, boyfailure neuvillette (/aff)
✼ a/n ┈ zhongrin uploaded 3 weeks in a row?! madness!!! utter madness!!!! /silly i feel like i've been writing too much cutesy/sfw stuff lately.... i want to write 'darker' types of stuff but my brain doesn't seem to want to cooperate ugh pain
ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼
ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
zhongli watches your reaction closely, at first.
when he deduces that you were self-aware of your own oversight and are evidently panicking about it, he gives you a warm chuckle and shakes his head gently, “there is no need to apologize, and please do not feel mortified in any way. it really is fine.”
if you continue to not believe him, the ex-archon will be as patient as ever with his words of reassurances, and he does not mind repeating them until you feel comfortable enough to ask him the real errand that you wished to bestow upon him.
... but not before he gently places a hand to the small of your back to lead you to walk a little closer to him due to the increasing crowd on the streets, his voice a tender caress to your ear, “coming from you, i certainly did not mind the nickname.”
al haitham raises his eyebrows and shuts his book, “what a fascinating blunder. is that how you view our relationship subconsciously? or perhaps it’s an innate desire you’ve chosen to suppress but accidentally slipped out in a moment of unawareness?”
the scholar has the decency to wait for your answer betwixt your embarrassment, but he eventually sighs when you failed to form a coherent answer that satisfied his inquiries.
“you seem to have the impression that i am displeased at your err. i’d like to inform you that your assumption is yet another mistake - which, i would theorize, was made in the rush of the moment as your nervous system kicks into gear, therefore clouding your judgement. i would suggest you take a few moments to reanalyze my stance based on this new information. i’ll wait.”
and with that, he opens his book once more.
.... um.
congratulations, i guess?
wriothesley takes the opportunity and replies with a cheeky, “yes, honey? what can i do for you, sweetheart?”
he relishes in the utter embarrassment that quickly spread across your face that’s akin to water faced with his cryo elemental energy (though secretly he’s also dying inside at the cheesiness of the situation) and throws you a boyish grin before ruffling your hair.
not a man to let an opportunity escape, the duke decides to leverage the moment to take his metaphorical shot and goes immediately for a straight jab, like an experienced boxer that he is, all the while praying to the hydro archon so that this would be yet another match he could flawlessly win, “you know, my schedule’s particularly relaxed today… i wouldn’t mind staying longer if you want to make it a date?”
neuvillette blinks owlishly, his pale cheeks blooming with warmth as the situation starts to sink in. you, the apple of his eye, whom he treasured dearly and had taken great care to court, had just called him with a term of endearment that he had always dreamed of hearing.
wait, was this a dream? his gloved hands quickly found purchase on his blue horns, before he brought his hands in front of his eyes. okay, he had two horns and ten fingers, still. so he must not have daydreamed this. ah- wait, you’re staring at him. oh, now you’re giggling. and now you’re calling him silly. oh, it should be a crime to be so breathtakingー
it’s not until your expression changed into surprise that he realized he had said that thought outloud.
your teasing “if it’s a crime, are you going to put me on trial, monsieur?” elicits a darker blush on his pale cheeks and an awkward cough out of him.
.... this must be how the young ones flirt nowadays.
“perhaps after a proper date? if it’s not impertinent of me, may i be allowed to take you out on dinner tonight?”
✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈
@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths
@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader
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#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#zhongli x reader#al haitham x reader#wriothesley x reader#neuvillette x reader#zhongli#al haitham#wriothesley#neuvillette#rin writes#honey can you…
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nobody but you
ABOUT
alternate title: the jealous character trope is actually kinda fun to write
rating: teen+
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!vinsmoke sanji | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 3.5k
description: sanji flirts endlessly with you while dining at the baratie. zoro is displeased.
tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, no use of 'y/n', establishment of relationship, flirting, alcohol consumption, pda
author’s note: i got like ~5 requests to write this so here you guys go! this was a popular one lmao. the story is a vague spinoff to my other fic pretty in that, but it doesn't have to be read to understand this one.
You’d volunteered to deal with the docking fees for the Going Merry, locking up the pirate ship as the rest of the crew entered Baratie. You were just five or so minutes late entering after the restaurant the rest of the Straw Hats had gone into. You’d never seen anything like it before—an eatery right in the middle of the ocean, in the shape of a giant fish.
You stepped into the building cautiously, glancing around the wide expanse of the main room to try and catch a glimpse of your friends. The restaurant was big, with a mezzanine that you’d entered in and stairs leading down to the first floor. The host, a fishman who was standing at the reservation desk, glanced up to take a look at you.
“Ah, you must be with the pirates,” he said pleasantly. “Right this way, miss.”
You nodded, wondering how Luffy was intending on paying for the bill of such a place as you scoped out the area. It was far nicer than anything you would’ve expected—but then again, he’d somehow managed to score the Going Merry from Kaya back in Syrup Village, so you figured he’d work something out.
Finally, you caught a glimpse of the rest of your crew, tucked away in a circular side booth that the fishman led you to. Luffy brightened upon seeing you, waving you over with a hand so excitedly you feared it was about to flop around like rubber. Considering his powers, that was a more than likely situation, actually.
“Thank you,” you told the host, then turned towards your friends. “No food yet?”
“You didn’t miss much,” Usopp said, a little snicker in his voice. “Just the waiter getting our drink orders. He was flirting the heck outta Nami.”
“Oh?” you asked, a smile flickering up your lips. The only open space in the table was between Zoro and Nami—you gave Zoro a confused look, and he gestured down to his swords, which were caught in the ledge between the chair and the wall. You snickered. “Ro. You’re such a loser.”
“Shut up,” Zoro muttered, hand on your waist as you climbed over him to get to the empty seat. It stayed there for a moment longer, even after you’d arranged yourself in the seat, before he finally dropped his hand. Usopp made a face that you pointedly ignored.
“What’d you guys order?” you asked instead. If there’d been a menu available, the waiter had probably taken it away; still, there wasn’t much variety in the East Blue, so you could expect there’d be a lot of seafood and not much else.
“One of everything,” Luffy responded brightly. “So we’ll be able to try the whole menu!”
“You sure that’s a good idea, Cap?” you asked, brows raised. Luffy shrugged.
“I don’t see why not.”
“Quit it with the nickname,” Zoro muttered. Neither him or Nami had gotten any more receptive to it since you’d first started calling Luffy it. Usopp didn’t seem so keen on it either—if only because he fancied himself Captain Usopp. Luffy liked it, though, and that pleased you enough to keep using it.
“I’ll get you to start saying it eventually,” you teased, nudging Zoro in the arm. He shook his head, but there was a suggestion of a smile on his lips as he glanced away. “Just you wait.” You turned to Nami, eyes sparkling. “What about the waiter, though? Was he cute?”
Usopp laughed at that, and Nami gave you a disparaging look. “Come on,” she started. “Not you too. Zoro was all—”
The sound of footsteps cut off her speech, and you glanced up to find a lean, blond man pausing by the lip of your table. He held a silver plate, upon which perched a variety of different drinks—beers, milk, water. “Here are your drinks,” he said, voice lifting with an accent you couldn’t quite place. “And appetizers.”
He had just finished placing the last of the drinks balancing on his forearm on the table when the waiter glanced up and registered you sitting there. His expression instantly changed, the crease of his mouth softening into a pleasant smile, his previously-dull blue eyes bright and sparkling. “Well, hello there. An addition?”
“Yeah, sorry I’m late,” you said. The waiter flashed a grin, white ivories shining under the fluorescents.
“Oh, absolutely no problem. They say those who are late are fashionable, and you, madam, certainly fit the bill,” the waiter said. Your eyes widened, glancing over to Nami to find her shaking her head, but the waiter didn’t stop there. “I’m Sanji. What can I get for you to drink? We’ve got a wide selection of fine wines that might suit your taste.”
“Oh, um—” you started, glancing at the rest of your crew again. Usopp was hiding his snicker, and Nami was giving you a tired look. Assumedly this had been the man who’d tried it on her, too—to unfortunate ends, probably, considering how Nami was. Not that this would be any more effective on you. Your eye was already captured by a particular green-haired swordsman, after all. “I don’t really have anything in mind.”
Sanji looked pleased about that, clasping his hands together around his platter. “Ah, let me guess, then. A bayberry or red currant wine, perhaps? Fruity, tart, full of flavor.” he winked. “A feisty drink for a feisty girl.”
“Can’t say I’ve tried it, but sure,” you said, the faintest smile on your lips. “I’ll let you know how I like it.”
Sanji grinned, looking rather satisfied with that, a delighted little smile on his lips. “One red currant wine, then. I’ll have it right out. And would you also like to order a meal, or…” He glanced over at Luffy, presumably referencing your captain’s more-than-outrageous order. “Are you all set?”
“I think we’re set, thanks,” you assured, and Sanji nodded. He flashed you another bright smile before turning on his heel back off to the kitchen.
Usopp finally let out the laughter he’d been keeping in, choked sounds emitting from his throat as he thudded his chest with a fist. You rolled your eyes, but it was good-natured, letting Usopp laugh.
“Well, at least I’m not being singled out,” Nami said with a sigh, and you exchanged a sympathetic glance with her. She patted your hand comfortingly, then scrutinized the water Sanji had gotten her. “At least he didn’t put it in a flute.”
“Zoro, you’ve got competition!” Usopp called, still laughing from the entire ordeal. You glanced to your side, to where the swordsman sat. Zoro had stiffened sometime during the conversation, jaw clenched and arms wound tightly across his chest. He hadn’t even touched the beer that Sanji had set in front of him, eyes fixed carefully to a spot beside Luffy’s head and refusing to look over at you.
“He’s a waiter,” Zoro said crisply. “He buses tables for a living.” With that, he grabbed his bottle, popping the tab and taking a swig.
“I don’t know, man, did you see the way he took down those pirates?” Usopp turned to you, all excited again. “Oh, you missed this whole thing! Two pirates were fighting over a seat or something, and Sanji just demolished both of them! You would’ve loved it.”
“He is a really good fighter,” Luffy agreed. Their words did nothing but seem to annoy Zoro further.
“Can we not talk about the restaurant personnel? Surely you can think of more interesting topics of conversation.” His tone was sharp, and all icy, and you inched your hand closer to his leg to tap his thigh in question. He glanced down at your touch, but didn’t deign to say anything else. He just picked up his beer again, nursing it while the rest of the crew continued on with their conversation.
Despite Luffy changing the subject, Zoro didn’t speak, and you kept peeking glances over at him in concern. Your feelings for him had just continued developing ever since Syrup Village, although neither of you had reasonably talked about the closet incident since it’d happened. What with the reveal of Kuro and the escape from the marines and all, there hadn’t exactly been time to. But you’d been on good terms, and the actions he made around you—pressing a hand to your waist as you moved past him, turning towards you first mid-conversation, shoving you down when the marines had fired their first cannon at the Going Merry.
Before you could whisper to him and question what his silence was about, though, Sanji reappeared, carrying two platters filled to the brim with plates. They were laden with different types of meat and vegetables, sauces glinting under the light and hot steam still billowing.
He set the dishes on the table, somehow managing to arrange them so they all fit on the countertop. Sanji set down the last plate then turned to you, placing a glass and a bottle of dark crimson wine on the table in front of you. He had to lean over Zoro to reach, and Zoro flinched, but still didn’t say anything as Sanji uncorked the bottle and poured you a glass.
“Tell me what you think,” he said, all smiles again. “I’ll be embarrassed if it isn’t to your liking.”
You picked the glass up, swirling it carefully inside the glass before leaning down into the cup to take in a full sniff. You tilted your head back to take a small sip, moving the liquid around your mouth to fully savor the flavor before finally swallowing. The wine was sweet, light rather than rich with a delicate tartness that burst on your tongue. You glanced up just to see a giant grin had stretched up Sanji’s mouth, brightening his face up considerably.
“What?” you asked.
“Not often do I see a patron who knows how to taste wine properly,” Sanji answered with a little duck of his head. “A lady of class, I see. How do you like it?”
“Not too strong. I like the tartness,” you answered. “A good recommendation. Thank you.”
Sanji gave you a little bow, hand flourishing to the side as he dipped his head. “I live to serve.”
“Yeah, well, why don’t you serve me another beer?” Zoro said abruptly. Usopp coughed, and you could see Nami elbow him out of your peripheral vision. Luffy just looked confused.
Sanji’s face fell almost immediately after Zoro had spoken, his eyes flickering away from yours. “Of course. I’ll be right back,” he said, a tight smile at his lips. He ducked out of the booth, and Zoro let out an irritated noise, tongue flicking against from the roof of his mouth.
Usopp snorted, fully this time, and you turned to glance over at him—he and Nami were both hiding their gazes, though you could see smiles cracked along their lips.
Zoro glared at them. “Shut it.”
“Not saying anything!” Usopp said, though he half-hid behind Luffy like Zoro was going to lunge over the table to get to him. That didn’t seem… entirely unlikely, actually; Zoro’s right hand rested firmly on the handle of one of his swords, fingers ready to pull the blade at any second. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to say something. But not in front of everyone else. It wouldn’t be appropriate, you decided.
Eventually your meal wound down to an end. Zoro got less and less tense throughout it, though you were fairly certain that was due to the drinks he was having rather than any actual reassurance. Sanji, thankfully, came back with the bill in the middle of a conversation you really didn’t want to think about—Luffy and his marine grandfather was not something your mind wanted to dwell on—only for him to disappear again.
Just moments later, a man with a braided mustache came storming out of the kitchen. Luffy did some more of his Luffy nonsense, and, honestly—you were getting too tired about all of this to pay any close attention. You spared a glance over at Zoro again. His face was as blank as ever.
“Okay,” Usopp said slowly, a few delayed seconds after who’d undoubtedly been the head chef yanked Luffy out of his seat. “I’m ready to check out whatever’s outside. Let’s go.”
“What about Luffy?” you asked, perplexed.
“He’ll find his way out of that,” Nami said with a sigh. She stood up, knocking back the rest of her drink. Since she wasn’t exactly wrong, you got up, glancing over your shoulder at the last of the group that remained seated. “Zoro?”
Zoro was staring into his now-empty bottle of beer. He still seemed off, the line of his mouth creased downwards, jaw set tight. “Yeah,” he said finally, standing to his full height and slipping out of the booth. He offered you a hand, helping you down from your seat, but said nothing more.
The four of you headed out to the mouth of the Baratie fish, which boasted a bar decorated with neon lights. You found a place to sit by the fish’s bottom lip, and you turned in your seat, staring out at the sea. The water was dark with the night, peaceful ripples moving across the water that sent shimmering waves across the blue.
“I’m gonna get a drink,” Usopp said. “Come, Nami?”
“Huh?” Nami glanced up, and you turned to watch the exchange. “Oh, I’m okay, Usopp. Thanks, though.”
“No,” Usopp insisted, a smile still pasted on his face as he jerked his head, not very discreetly, in your and Zoro’s direction. Nami seemed to realize, then, eyes going wide before she got up from her seat.
“Actually, on second thought, I’ll join you,” she said, far smoother than Usopp had been. “God knows you don’t have any money to pay for a drink.”
She breezed past him, ignoring the offended gape Usopp left in her wake before he was scrambling to follow her. You turned your attention towards Zoro—he was lounging in the seat across from you, one hand on his swords with his legs crossed. “Hi,” you said carefully.
He stiffened. “Hey.”
You pursed your lips, mulling over the ways to go about the conversation before ultimately deciding to spit it out. “What’s wrong?” At his raised brow, you were prompted to continue— “During dinner. You were acting weird.”
Zoro shook his head, dropping his gaze from yours. You could see the faintest trace of freckles spattered along his cheeks, the yellow glow from the lanterns reflecting off his skin. “Nothing’s wrong. Just… the waiter.”
“The waiter,” you repeated. Zoro shifted, legs uncrossing and hand tightening around his swords again. His voice was low the next time he spoke, and you could barely hear him, having to lean forward to catch all of his words.
“He was flirting with you.”
Your breath hitched, but you tried to keep your tone casual. “He was flirting with Nami too,” you said, glancing up to meet his eyes. Zoro still wouldn’t meet your gaze, staring out into the East Blue behind you.
“That’s different.” Zoro’s eyes finally lifted, long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks as you met eyes. You shivered, gooseflesh suddenly prickling up everywhere on your skin—the back of your neck, up your spine, down your arms and legs. “I don’t like Nami.”
You tilted your head to the side, meeting his gaze. The words sent a little rush through you; a rush you got practically every time Zoro looked in your direction, actually, which was only a little bit annoying. The amount of influence a man you’d known for, comparatively, not that long had over you had you rolling your eyes all the time, but… you trusted Zoro at this point, as uncooperative as he and Nami had been throughout your entire journey.
“You’re jealous of a waiter.”
“Don’t—” Zoro sighed. “Don’t put it like that.”
“But it’s true. You’re jealous of a waiter,” you said, unblinking. Zoro rolled his eyes, teeth resting along his lower lip in an almost-bite. You snickered, tone sloping upwards to become more teasing, almost sarcastic. “How the mighty have fallen. From me practically begging you to say I looked nice in a dress to this.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Zoro said, uncrossing his legs to lean over and press his hand over your mouth. You laughed, surprised, as he leaned over you, eyes sparkling at the reaction. “Not another word.”
He removed his hand, giving you a look. You betrayed his trust almost immediately. “Of a waiter.”
“Do you want me to put the hand back?” Zoro threatened, but you were full-on laughing by now, and he couldn’t do anything but watch. The sounds escaped from your mouth, ringing out in soft, lively hiccups. He shook his head, hand falling to his side as he watched you, a ghost of a smile tugging up the side of his mouth.
“Sorry, Ro,” you said, unable to suppress your grin even as your laughter died off. “It’s a little funny, you have to admit.”
“I’d like to hear you talk if someone was flirting with me,” Zoro muttered, so quiet you could barely hear. You had to stifle another laugh.
“Okay, well, unlike you, I don’t get territorial over people I haven’t even talked about my relationship with, but I appreciate it.” You nudged him. “It’s kinda cute.”
Zoro seemed lost in the first half of your sentence, and you could practically see the cogs whirring in his head. For a moment, you were worried that the closet had been a one-time thing—but no, he’d mentioned just earlier that he liked you, so clearly something else was the matter.
Your worries were answered in just another moment. “...We’re supposed to talk about our relationship?”
“Zoro.” You gave him a look of disbelief, forced to suppress another laugh, though this time it was out of incredulity. “Yes. Have you ever dated anyone before?”
Zoro made a face at that. “Keeping that to myself, thanks.” He dropped his chin, glancing down at where you were, still leaning over you so you were forced to crane your neck to stare up at him. He tilted his head to the side. “So what kind of talking are we supposed to be doing?”
“You know, the establishment of being exclusive; a cementation of our feelings; what the relationship entails; where we want it to go…” You paused, watching as his eyes flickered down your face. Your words were going in one ear and out the other. “You’re not listening at all, huh.”
“Not really,” Zoro said, not sounding very apologetic about it. His free hand came to cup the underside of your jaw, tilting your head up just so. “Is the talking really that necessary?”
You shrugged, trying to keep your cool. “Eventually.”
“Eventually,” he repeated, stretching out the syllables of the word as he quoted you. “So we can do it another day.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile. “What were you thinking?”
Zoro was slotting his lips over yours before you could say another word, his fingers digging into the hinge of your jaw to allow him better access. You smiled into the kiss, lips curling upwards and open to let him lick into your mouth.
It wasn’t too risqué, but Zoro took your breath away all the same, an appreciative murmur low in his throat as he kissed you. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, tugging him insistently downwards so you could get a better angle at his mouth, sucking gently at his lower lip. He nearly stumbled, losing his center of gravity before steadying himself, one hand coming to rest on your ribcage as the kiss deepened.
“Guys!” Usopp’s voice came somewhere from the right, high-pitched and excessively scandalized. You felt Zoro scoff into your mouth.
“You realize you’re in public, right?” Nami deadpanned, plopping down in the seat next to you. You nudged Zoro’s head away, his hand still on your jaw, half-craned over your figure. Nami looked unimpressed, eyes flickering from Zoro to you and back again. “Get a room. Go back to the Going Merry for all I care.” She extended a hand, placing a mug of beer on the table before you before handing you a matching one. “I got you drinks. You’re welcome.”
“Thanks,” you said, leaning up to press one final kiss on Zoro’s lips before turning to take the glass Nami had outstretched. Usopp groaned, covering his eyes with one hand and lifting a giant cup of something with the other. It was so big you wondered how he’d even been able to carry it. You eyed him. “You’re going to pass out drinking that.”
Usopp made a face at you. You just laughed.
“Sorted out your issues with the waiter, then?” Nami asked, turning to fix a knowing look on Zoro. He rolled his eyes, effortless as ever as he settled back down into his seat.
“Still don’t like the waiter.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, and Zoro scoffed, picking up the mug Nami had gotten him. You could see the smile behind the glass rim, though, even as he clearly tried to hide it, and matched it with one of your own.
Zoro ducked his head to smile into his beer. Usopp made a gagging sound. “God,” Nami muttered, but their criticisms might as well have been deaf to your ears by then.
All you could see was Zoro.
© halfvalid 2023
#one piece live action#one piece netflix#opla#reader insert#x reader#opla roronoa zoro#opla zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x you#one piece live action x you#one piece live action x reader#opla fanfic#opla fanfiction#opla zoro x reader#kiki writes!
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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 1
Word Count ~1k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, character death, eventual smut(not in this chapter)
Excerpt ~ You know it’s not Francis peering at you through the glass window.
You know it, even though he looks exactly like him, every feature carefully duplicated: the sleep deprived smudges on the frail skin underneath his eyes, the narrow chin and a long nose, that unblemished complexion as smooth and pale as the milk he delivers.
They’re getting better at the replication.
It’s getting harder and harder to tell them apart from real humans now.
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
You know it’s not Francis peering at you through the glass window.
You know it, even though he looks exactly like him, every feature carefully duplicated: the sleep deprived smudges on the frail skin underneath his eyes, the narrow chin and long nose, that unblemished complexion as smooth and pale as the milk he delivers. They’re getting better at the replication. It’s getting harder and harder to tell them apart from real humans now.
Yet there’s still something off. Something in the way the flesh sits on his bones. Almost a shift, like a mirage in the desert: a shimmery, not quite real haze that’s there and gone again in the blink of an eye. He lays his fingers against the glass, splayed directly across from your face. The pretender’s lips curve into a smile. “Let me in,” he says, and it’s identical to the real milkman’s voice, that same sleepy, gentle tone you’re used to hearing day in and day out, and your heart lurches. When had it happened? When had he been taken? During a delivery? Lured into some back alley? Some devious doppelgänger asking for help, maybe, and of course he’d obliged, he was kind like that, he’d never refuse anyone. You envision the wire rack cradling the bottles of dairy product dropping from nerveless fingers, the glass shattering. White mixing with the bright red blood that leaks out of him all over the pavement.
You wince at the gruesome image. Poor, trusting, foolish man.
“Let me in,” he says again, and the words drag at something deep inside of you. A glint of something feral in the dark eyes now. This imposter knows you can sense his deception. “I know what you need. I can give it to you…”
Another chord strummed on the string of your spine, vibrating along your body. Had he taken over Francis’ thoughts? Sorting through the milkman’s memories like digging through a box of old photographs, perhaps. Choosing which ones to keep and which ones to discard. Had the unfortunate third floor resident known about your hopeless crush? He must have. How else would this creature target your desires so readily? The knowledge of this wounds you. Francis had known, and he hadn’t acted on that knowledge. No return of your feelings. Maybe he’d just been shy.
Or maybe he just didn’t feel the same way.
“You must be so tired, working so hard. You deserve to rest. Collect a reward.” His tongue darts out to moisten his lips and this is the first foreign gesture that completely confirms your suspicions: this is not Mr. Mosses.
Everything you need is right in front of you. The entryway door is still securely locked. The rotary phone is mere inches away. You can call in the team at any time now. Save everyone. Except for Francis, of course; it was too late for him.
“Sweetheart, please let me in.” Attracting flies with honey. His voice dripping affection. His fingertips blanch against the glass. The brim of his cap slides further down his brow. A single track of perspiration leaks down his cheek. The body still fighting, even now. Resisting. Rejecting the invader. But it was too little, too late.
“I can’t let you in.”
His head snaps up and the eyes are bloodshot, spidery lines of crimson streaking across the white orbs. A thin trail of saliva drips from one corner of his mouth. “Can’t, or won’t?” Straight to vinegar now. Acidic tone. It lashes against you. You’re shaking.
“I know what you are,” you declare in a whisper.
The replicant raises his free hand, fingers curling into a fist before striking the pane. It rattles in its casing and you gasp. You’d always thought the material was shatterproof. “You don’t know anything. How can you? You run unchallenged for a small fraction of years and you think you know all there is to in the universe. Such arrogant, fragile things you are,” he murmurs, and the sudden calm unnerves you even more than the rage.
You begin to reach for the receiver and his fingers slide down the glass, squeaking as they go. “Wait. Don’t do that.”
You pause, hand still outstretched. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You do have a choice. You don’t have to be one of the mindless sheep.” His nostrils flare, inhaling deeply. “Francis loved that fragrance you wear. He liked so many things about you. You’ll never know how much if you make that call.”
You suck in a sharp breath. Was it true? Or just a ruse to get you to spare him? “He’s gone. There’s no getting him back now.” Your voice warbles, your fingers trembling as you reach again. Making contact with the ebony plastic this time.
“He’s right here. You could have him. All you have to do is let me in.”
You lift the receiver from the handset cradle. The spiral cord connecting the two sways like a tightrope beneath an acrobat walking its length. You feel like that performer. Teetering on the edge between life and death. Yours. The people in the building. You have a duty to protect them.
The uniformed man’s eyes slide closed. Dark lashes light as moth’s wings kissing his cheeks. He’s humming softly. A melody you’d heard every time Francis had left for his route. The tune unfamiliar. But it’s his. Had always been unique to him. Why hadn’t you asked what song it was? Why hadn’t you…
The handset drops back down and the dial tone is silenced. His eyes reopen. “Let me in, love.” The softest, sweetest smile. You reach for the buzzer. Staring at your hand as if you don’t recognize it as your own. “I’ll give you everything you want, sweet girl.” Nearly to the button now. “There you go. Just a little more.” Contact. The light flashes and the magnetic locks release, granting the doppelgänger access.
#thats not my neighbor#francis mosses#milkman#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#milkman x reader#milkman x you
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so high school
Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Summary: Growing up, you could never understand how people your age were so romantically interested in other people. You begin to understand for the first time, however, when you encounter a certain Sokovian during your first semester of university.
Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, college!au, friends (?) to lovers, college au, making out, slight angst (but not really)
Word Count: 4.0k
Author's Note: everyone say thank you taylor swift for the spontaneous new fic! also this is lightly proofread, so edits might be made later oops
Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad
...
Growing up, you never truly dated anyone. Sure, you had crushes on fictional characters in the media you consumed, and you allotted arguably too much time to admiring celebrities online; but, you never saw anyone in your personal life in such a light. At various hangouts and sleepovers over the years, you noticed just how much your friends discussed their love lives. Hushed whispers and sighs of the same phrase, “I really like them,” flooded your ears in the hallways at school. You had originally tried to join in on the conversations, not wanting to be excluded, but you simply couldn't engage in them wholeheartedly; eventually, the inability to relate began to upset you. You naturally boiled it down to something that must have been wrong with you — how could it possibly be normal to be like this when everyone else around you seemed to share these romantic sentiments?
Thankfully, you became completely preoccupied, both mentally and physically, by the prospect of university. By the time your junior year of high school had started, your love life — or lack thereof — no longer held too much importance to you. Instead of keeping whimsical love letters on your desk like others your age did, you opted to pile various books. From Camus to Aristotle, you discovered a deep fascination and affinity to the field of philosophy and the metaphysical discussions it posed. Therefore, when your senior year had arrived, you threw yourself head first into your studies, determined to build up your application in order to get into a top university.
After accepting your offer into one of the best philosophy programs in the nation, you anticipated your time at university, daydreaming about all of the things you would study and all of the people you would meet there.
But never could you have anticipated someone like Wanda Maximoff.
You had met her during one of your introductory courses in your first semester. Wanda was the type of person that, upon first glance, you would be scared. Not just because she was undeniably pretty, but she also had this stone cold exterior to her. Her lips were permanently etched into a slight frown, and she never really showed too much expression while she spoke during class. To put it simply, she intimidated you; so, you settled on admiring the brunette from afar (two seats up, one to the left — if you were to be specific).
Your plans changed, however, after the two of you got assigned to be partners for a class project. It was just a presentation, but it required you both to meet outside of class to work on it. You would be a liar if you said your heart didn't skip a beat at the thought of seeing Wanda outside of these four walls of your classroom, even if it was just to work on this assignment.
Seemingly unbothered by it all, she gave you her number for you to set up a date and time to meet. Her messages were all business, but they still made you feel like a dopey teenager every time her name showed up on your screen.
The day quickly came for you both to work on the presentation. Ultimately, you had settled on the two of you meeting in your dorm, which you made sure to deep clean before she came. You were not necessarily messy by any means, but the idea of Wanda, the most daunting person you could imagine, stepping into the safe space of your room made your blood run cold for some reason.
As Wanda knocked on your door, you rushed to open it. The two of you stood face to face for a moment, divided only by the doorframe. She still had her typical frown, but you noticed it shift into the slight uptick of a smirk. After a moment had passed, she finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna let me in, or...?" she asked, teasing you and your awkward nature.
Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you stepped aside for her to enter, "Oh, right... Sorry."
You led her to your side of the room, where she stood for a moment analyzing all of your possessions. You felt small as she did so, like a tiny insect under a bright, unsettling microscope.
She suddenly turned to face you, dropping her bag on the floor, "So, are we gonna work on this or not?"
That is how you found yourself on the floor, her laying on her back and you on your stomach. You had your computer in front of you, typing furiously as she provided you the words and ideas. You glanced over at her every now and then, especially if she was being awfully silent.
Most times, she would just be looking up at the ceiling in thought, her brown hair sprawled in random patterns underneath her; however, after a particularly long bought of silence, you looked over at her to find her gaze directly on you. You quickly returned your eyes to the screen of your computer and began typing whatever came to your mind. You hoped she did not notice the blush rise to your face.
She did.
She sighed, turning her body to lay completely facing you. "You're very quiet, you know," she stated, closely observing your reactions highlighted by the light of your screen.
Unsure of how to respond, you simply say, "So I've been told."
"Oh," she exclaimed, her smirk from earlier returns. "She has jokes."
You hum in agreement, "Just a few, unfortunately."
With the project now finished, the two of you abandoned it in favor of simply talking to each other. Never would you have guessed that Wanda could be this... warm. Unlike what you had witnessed in the classroom, she was very friendly and sarcastic in the privacy of your dorm.
You discovered a lot of information about the brunette during this conversation, such as how she loved coffee but only if its iced, how she never loved texting (preferring to call or talk in-person) but will do so if she must, how she immigrated with her twin brother from Sokovia when they were children. As she recounted her memories from Sokovia, you could hear the accent she once had poking through the surface; although, you did not point it out, afraid it was an insecurity of hers. Maybe you would tell her another time how nice it sounded, but for now, you bonded with her about collecting CDs and vinyl records from various artists.
While the two of you casually spoke, all you could think about was her — how pretty she was under the dimmed lighting of your dorm, how every joke she told was the epitome of humor, how much you wanted to stay in this moment with her. She was perfect.
Is this what people were talking about in high school?
As the night came to an inevitable end, you found yourself feeling quite sad, for you no longer had an excuse to hang out with Wanda. Though she had her number, you did not have the confidence to use it and ask if she wanted to meet up again.
You did not have to worry too much about it. As she packed her belongings back into her bag, swinging it over her shoulder, she spoke, "You know, you're pretty cool, Y/N."
You tried to hide the shock caused by her words, "Thank you, I think?"
She chuckled lowly, "My friends are having this thing at my place this weekend, if you wanted to join?"
Your head perked up, eyes blinking rapidly in shock. Unable to deny her offer, you nodded, "Yeah, sure... okay."
“Great,” she replied, walking toward your door. You followed behind her and reached around to open for her. She smiled at the gesture before speaking again, “I’ll text you later with the details and everything. See you in class.”
“Yeah, see you,” you returned. As you closed door behind her, you feel your mind finally catch up to reality: you, the stereotype of a nerd with very few friends, are going to hang out with Wanda and her friends.
You close your eyes, leaning your head onto the back of the door. “Oh, shit,” you whisper aloud into the open air. What have you just gotten yourself into?
Decoding your own thoughts and feelings about the Sokovian in the days leading up to your next class had revealed just how infatuated you had become; yet, you didn't even know how to act upon them. For years, you had only observed romantic behaviors from the outside looking in, whether it be through your friends' dating experiences or the words on a page from whichever sapphic novel you had picked to read. Now that you finally found yourself in the loop, what were you supposed to do?
Should you message her about whatever? No, that would come across as needy and overbearing.
What if you found her after class and ask to hang out again? No, that's even more overbearing than the text message.
The internal war waged on, resulting in your mind and body being paralyzed out of anxiety. For now, you have settled on simply waiting for her message regarding this weekend and presenting your assignment with her this week during class.
Days later, you walked into the class, practically shaking from your nerves about the presentation and the girl that you had to present with (who had just so happened to become your first teenage crush over the span of weeks).
You sat down in your unofficially assigned seat. Being so focused on the way your leg bounced repeatedly, you failed to notice the familiar brunette enter the classroom. Instead of sitting in her typical seat, however, she dropped her bag on the floor by the seat directly next to you.
Wanda instantly noted your nervous demeanor. While she had her own anxieties regarding the presentation and such, hers remained within her mind. She never showed such things outwardly, unless she was with someone with who she felt undeniably comfortable expressing those thoughts.
She slid into the seat and reached over to place her hand on your bouncing leg. Immediately, you noticed the feeling of someone's hand, breaking the chain of your anxious thoughts; upon glancing to your side, you discovered the culprit: Wanda.
"Hey," she started. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise."
Unable to find the words currently, you opted to remain silent, but you provide her with a uncertain nod in return. With a squeeze of her hand as a final attempt at reassurance, she placed her hand back within her lap and waited for the class to begin.
As always, Wanda was right. Your presentation went well; there were a few instances of stumbling words on your part, but otherwise it went great.
When the two of you returned to your seats, she leaned over and muttered under her breath for you to hear, "Told you so."
As you began to do your typical nighttime routine that evening, you heard your phone go off. Unsuspecting to who it was, you tapped on the screen under the assumption that it was just another email added to your overflowing inbox. You were wrong yet again.
Wanda: hey y/n !! are you still able to make it to the thing this weekend?? its gonna be on saturday at my place... lmk !!
You stared at the message for a moment before confirming you would still be in attendance, of course. Was it normal for your heart rate to speed up this much from mere words on a screen?
Saturday night rolled around quicker than you had anticipated. It was almost time to leave, yet you were currently standing still in your pajamas, surrounded by the miscellaneous clothing items you had thrown around. Ultimately, you had settled on the outfit you had first chosen, resulting in a bunch of unnecessary cleaning afterwards.
When you arrived to her place, you promptly knocked on the door. A moment passed before the door creaked open to reveal the Sokovian. Her outfit was considerably more casual than others you had seen her wear around campus. She stood in front of you, adorned with an oversized band tee and jeans; her fingers were still littered with her usual assortment of rings. However, the thing that surprised you the most was her lack of makeup. Not that she needed it, of course; in fact, it was quite the opposite. Tonight she seemed to have abandoned her typical heavy eyeliner and rose-colored shade of lipstick, choosing to only use her mascara and some chapstick.
"Sorry for the jumpscare," Wanda joked, her nose scrunched in amusement from your reaction. She continued to explain, "I know I'm dressed down compared to class. I just don't like putting in the effort to get ready sometimes, especially to just hang out with friends."
"No!" you exclaimed, quickly trying to backtrack the way she took your shocked expression. "No, you're fine. You're beautiful, actually, I just- I was just surprised to see you without the eyeliner and all."
Her cheeks became flushed at the compliment, but you seemed to miss it being overly concerned with your own response. She chuckled at your awkwardness, "Thanks. Oh, you can come in, by the way. I think everyone is here now."
She introduced you to each friend, after which you gave an insecure wave in return.
As the night progressed, you gradually loosened up. Whether it was time or the alcohol in your bloodstream, it frankly did not matter to you. You were not drunk by any means but definitely buzzed enough to not worry about every single decision you made. You even talked to one of Wanda's friends, Natasha, for awhile without the Sokovian present (given that she had left to use the restroom, but it still counts in your mind).
Suddenly, you were sat on the floor, playing childish party games with the others. It was fun, you couldn't lie... until it wasn't. You had already survived Truth or Dare, but someone (Tony) had suggested Spin the Bottle. With no romantic history, it was practically a given that you subsequently had not kissed anyone yet. For your first kiss to be during a stupid game of Spin the Bottle would be depressing; but, you didn't want to be the loser who said no to playing because the reason would be too humiliating to explain.
So, you elected to power through the hesitation, hoping the bottle just would not land on you.
At first, you were confident. The game was now three rounds in, and you remained lucky.
Eventually, the group had noted your lack of participation and had chosen to give you a "free spin." You silently prayed it would at least land on someone with whom you had become somewhat acquainted. With a shaky hand, you reached forward, spinning the emptied beer bottle. In the moment, it felt like the bottle would never stop spinning, but, once it did, it felt like time froze altogether.
It landed on Wanda.
Though you liked the brunette, you truly did not want your first kiss to be this way, especially with her.
She instantly noticed your apprehension. Turning to where Tony sat in the circle, she offered, "Hey, what if we did a hybrid of this and Seven Minutes in Heaven?"
Your eyes widened at the question, feeling unsure about all of this.
With a smirk on his face, Tony agreed, "I like the way you think, Maximoff. Alright, new girl, go follow Maximoff, and don't have too much fun while you're gone."
Before walking off with Wanda to the nearest bathroom, she briefly turned around to aim her middle finger at the boy. Though you were extremely overcome with anxiety about what was about to occur in the bathroom, you released a chuckle at her response.
She pulled you into the bathroom, flipping the lights on. As the door clicked shut, you faced her with your back against the wall.
"So, um, what are we supposed to do?" you asked.
"We don't have to do anything, Y/N," she replied, leaning against the bathroom counter. "I just noticed you weren't very comfortable with the idea of kissing me out there, so I improvised a little bit."
"Oh, okay," you breathed out. "Just for the record, it was not the idea of kissing you that made me uncomfortable. You- You're cool, so, it's fine."
Wanda tilted her head in curiosity, clearly not expecting that response. "Oh?" she questioned. "What was it then? Because I could clearly tell you were not very comfortable in there... I mean, you were visibly stiff."
"It's not you, I just..." you looked away, unable to meet her gaze.
"'It's not you, it's me'?" she joked, narrowing her eyes.
"Yes! No! I mean..." you exhaled. "It's not that the idea of kissing you makes me uncomfortable because, believe me, it very much doesn't. I just- I've never done this before."
The blood rushed to your cheeks during your admission. You felt utterly embarrassed, wishing you could just be back in your dorm in this moment.
"Y/N," she called softly. Despite every ounce of your body screaming at you to not do so, you returned your gaze to the Sokovian. "Do you want to kiss me?"
You couldn't read her tone. A part of you was nervous, maybe this was all some sick joke between her and her friends; yet, the other part of you was thrilled by the proposition alone.
"I wouldn't oppose," you muttered, automatically employing humor as your defense mechanism.
Wanda rolled her eyes at your antics, "Ok, then, let's play a new game." She looked down at her phone, checking the time. "We have less than four minutes in here."
Confused by the sudden change, you acquiesced in her request, "Okay?"
She stepped closer to you, standing a foot away.
Her tongue escaped her mouth, briefly licking her lips, before she proposed, "Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?"
Your eyes widened at the unexpected question, but you attempted to recover in order to return her playful energy, "Can I choose all three?"
Her eyebrow had risen, the infamous smirk forming on her lips. Slowly, she inched closer and closer to you until you could feel her breath on your skin. One hand found refuge on your hip, while the other she brought to the side of your face. She used her fingers to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear then cradled your face. You licked your own lips and closed your eyes in anticipation.
Then, you felt it. Her lips brushed against yours, softly and slowly as if she were testing the waters. It was only a peck, but you swear your heart burst from the experience.
A moment passed before she pulled away enough for her to speak.
"Was that okay?" she inquired, ensuring you were still interested in this.
"More than," you affirmed.
She smiled, "Good, because we still have a few minutes left, and I intend to use them."
Without another second, she connected your lips once again. This time was different, however; there was a newfound fervor behind it. Her kisses started slow like the initial pace, gradually becoming quicker and deeper. Uncertain about what to exactly do, you continue to follow her lead. You felt her slide her tongue across your lips, asking for entrance. How could you ever deny her that? As her tongue began to clumsily caress with yours, a familiar feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, but you ignored it and kept kissing her.
A knock at the door pulled you both back into reality.
"Time's up, lovebirds," the voice called. "Clothes better be on and straightened when you leave."
Wanda chuckled at her friend's words and bit her lip. For the first time, you think you see her outwardly nervous. She swallowed as she shifted her gaze from your lips to meet your eyes, "Hey, I um- I hope this wasn't a one time thing."
You sighed in relief, "With you? Never."
She leaned forward once more, placing a final peck on your lips before grabbing your hand to return to the circle. Instead of your prior placements on the floor, in which she sat on the other end, Wanda refused to let go of your hand, instead pulling you to where she had been sitting.
Thankfully, no one mentioned how your cheeks were now incredibly plagued with a pink hue, allowing the game to continue onward.
After the group decided to finish playing games and turn on a movie, you followed Wanda to the couch in order to sit next to her. As soon as you found your place at the end of the sofa, she gravitated closer, leaning into your side. Her head rested on your shoulder as if you both had been close for years.
The movie American Pie started playing, all of her friends too engrossed in it to note how the two of you were cuddled up together. She picked her head up from its place on your shoulder. You didn't think too much of it, imagining her neck must have simply gotten uncomfortable in that position.
However, she turned her head to face you, taking in the sight of you and her friends all hanging out and watching a movie. Unable to resist herself any longer, she leaned in closer, her breath hitting your ear as she whispered to you, "I can't focus on the movie. All I can think about is kissing you right now."
You rotated your head to face her, biting your lip at her words. "Shush, your friends are here," you quietly argued, but you were secretly enjoying her antics. You peered over her shoulder, observing her friends who sat quietly with their attentions fully focused on the film.
Wanda pressed a soft kiss to the base of your neck prior to returning to its original position on your shoulder. You sighed at the feeling of her affection, wondering if it would linger forever.
Soon enough, the movie ended, and it was time to go home for the night. Her friends had left moments ago, but not without saying how you should "come around more often." Honestly, you were deeply excited that you received their approval, especially after the recent developments with Wanda.
You stayed behind for a little, attempting to garner as much alone time with Wanda as you could without being interrupted.
With the others now gone, you allowed Wanda to be more affectionate; or rather, you allowed her to give in to her desires and kiss you again, and again, and again.
After the final peck, you pulled away with the cheesiest smile and swollen lips. She loved seeing you this way: giddy and carefree.
"I really like you, Wanda," you proclaimed with a sigh, effectively breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. "Like, a lot."
"I really like you, too," she replied. "You know, in case it got lost in translation with the kissing and everything."
You playfully slapped the side of her arm. "I'm serious," you started. "You make me feel so... high school."
She raised her brow, gesturing for you to continue.
You resumed, "I never felt like this, especially during high school. For a while, I actually thought something was wrong with me." Her lips formed a slight pout at your past conflict. "I was always so... jealous of others my age, having all of these teenage experiences with crushes and romance. Since I never did, I just assumed that it was my fault, that something was wrong with me. It was isolating; it felt like some inside joke that everyone else knew about except me. But, I'm happy I waited, truthfully, because now I can experience all of those high school feelings with you."
End.
#limarieb#wanda maximoff#elizabeth olsen#wanda maximoff x reader#elizabeth olsen x reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#marvel imagines#limarieb wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fluff
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aonung x shy and tiny reader
pls i live for protective aonung 😭😭🙏 they'd be childhood friends and grew up decided that they will be mates eventually
My Mate
characters: ao’nung x na’vi reader
ratings: sfw , fluff
He always had at least one hand on you, or an arm wrapped around your waist. Ao’nung never let you leave his sight. Not much changed between you two since you were younger, he was always looking over you protectively. A running joke between your parents and his was that he was your personal warrior. Ready to spill blood for you when the time comes.
“Ma Ao’nung, come help me add a bead to my songcord. Let’s get matching ones for the Tulkun’s and their return!” You said happily, not noticing that you were interrupting his time with his friends. He didn’t seem to care, a smile creeping on his face while he got up. Ao’nung saw the two seashells in your palm, a soft grey color with a pearly coating.
As usual, he placed a hand on your lower back, turning you around gently as he spoke to his friends. “I’ll be back later. We can go hunting.” They rolled their eyes playfully, making it clear that this was an almost everyday occurrence. You flashed them an apologetic smile, they didn’t hold it against you anyways.
You excitedly explained to your mate about where you found the shells, a bit deeper in the sand, so it took you a while to find one that was similar. “Come! Let’s add them now.” You said happily, practically skipping to your shared Marui with him.
Ao’nung had a big smirk on his face, sitting down first with his legs spread apart. You grabbed your carved box with weaving materials and other beads before sitting between Ao’nungs legs with your back against his chest. You both unwrapped your songcord from your wrists, finding where the latest bead was placed and unknotting the end. He moved his arms to wrap around you, and he placed his head on your shoulder so he could see what he was doing. You loved any kind of physical contact with him, feeling his heart beat, the way his breath tickles your neck just barely.
You wrapped the twine and string around the silvery shell, securing it with a knot at the end. Your attention shifted to how Ao’nungs fingers worked so intricately, tying a knot at the end of his own songcord. He brushed a few stray strands of your hair from your face as you turned around a faced him at an angle. You held your wrist out, wanting him to tie it back for you.
“You always do it just right. Not too tight, not too loose.” In all honesty it’s because you also couldn’t tie it with one hand.
He laughed, already knowing the real reason. His hands were warm against your cooler skin, and his eyes shot ip to look at you while he tied a small bow for your songcord.
“You’re cold. Cmere.” He said, tapping away at your wrist to let you know you can put it down. He wrapped his arms around you, squishing you against him.
Rolling your eyes, you fought for him to let you go. “Cant, breathe!” You said, but he refused to budge.
“You’ll be okay.” Ao’nung said, looking down at you. His eyes stared at all of your feature for a brief moment, taking everything in.
“You’d make a perfect Tsahik.” He said, as if he was lost in thought still staring at you.
Your mouth was agape, a flustered expression covering your face as you looked at the future chief. He ran his fingers through the parts of your hair that weren’t braided, his other hand resting on your hand and caressing your palm softly.
“We should officially mate, before Eywa. I want you to be my Tsahik.” Ao’nung suggested, but the tone in his voice suggested that it was more of a demand.
You stiffened but slowly relaxed, knowing he would be with you each step of the way, even if it was a big responsibility and a important thing he was asking of you. You nodded, and a smile grew on his teal face.
“I must go ask your father permission to court you, come. We don’t have all day.” He said, giddy over the fact everything would be official between you two as soon as you mate.
#avatar neteyam#avatar way of water#neteyam imagine#neteyam x reader#neteyam sully#avatar#avatar loak#neteyam#avatar jake#neteyam x you#aonung imagine#aonung x you#aonung#aonung avatar#aonung x reader
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This Heat is Gettin’ To Me
Summary: Beach day’s with your dad had always been enjoyable; the sun, the sea, the beer and now Joel was there, it was far more enjoyable for you.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI plssss!! Public sex, age gap (unspecified but Joel would be mid forties, reader in twenties), unprotected p in v (do better & wrap it)
Characters: Dbf!Joel Miller x (f) reader
Word Count: 3.1k
(Divider by @saradika-graphics)
It was a baking hot day, the peak of summer and here you were; at the beach with your father and his close friend, Joel Miller. Days at the beach had always been your favourite times and now that Joel was here it provided a new level of attraction to the day out. You had been here since pretty early in the morning which luckily meant you had a good spot on the beach, there were people everywhere; families with young children, couples, friends and even a few dogs running around. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered if people thought your father and Joel were a couple.
“Do you not ever get worried that people will assume you and my dad are a couple?” You asked bluntly, peering up over your sunglasses to stare at Joel who was rubbing sunscreen into his muscly biceps.
“What?!” Joel laughed, pausing his motions in confusion.
“Well I was sat here reading my book, people watching and looking at all the couples and stuff and then I thought about you and dad.” You shrugged. “I mean, I totally ship it. Just you men never have girlfriends and now I’m thinking it’s because ladies are scared off by thinking you’re a couple.”
Joel shook his head with a fond smile on his features, he went back to applying his sunscreen; you leant back onto your arms and greedily watched him behind your shades. His large palms rubbed over his arms and eventually reached his chest, soft white and dark hairs peppered over his tanned skin and you would lying if you said it didn’t make you wet. You gently rubbed your thighs together, trying to stave off the throbbing as you imagined how it would feel to have his hands all over your body.
You were ripped from your filthy thoughts when an outline of a man appeared in front of you and handed you a beer, you looked up the sun blocking his features but you knew it was your dad.
“You okay, sweetie? You look flushed.” Your dad asked and resumed his position next to you, he laid down under the sun shade and rested his arm behind his head.
“Y-yeah, must be the sun. I’ll go into the sea in a bit and cool down.” You lied, Joel looked over at you with a raised brow but directed his attention back to rubbing the sunscreen into his legs.
It almost killed you off and you stared into the can of your beer and sipped at it, trying to distract yourself in any way possible.
“Oh, your sweet daughter there seemed to have an epiphany whilst you were doing the drinks run.” Joel laughed, sitting the other side of you and cracking open his cool beer.
“Yeah? What was it, sweet pea?”
“Nothing. Just maybe wondered if the reason y’all don’t have girlfriends is because people think you and Miller are dating or something.” You shrugged, your gaze darting between the two men.
Your dad barked out a loud laugh, which in turn, cause your own to erupt and soon the three of you were sat there in your own little world, crying with laughter. Your dad recovered from his laughing fit, wiping his tears away with the backs of his hand and shook his head.
“Sweet pea, I can’t speak for Joel but I’m single because it’s not a priority for me. I go out to bars and see all these younger women with their next-to-nothing outfits on and it just makes me sad. I’m yet to find a woman but that doesn’t mean I haven’t had offers.” Your dad smirked.
“Gross. So. Gross.” You fake gagged and looked down at your book. “Fine. I’m still convinced people think y’all are a couple and that’s why. But sure. You’ve had offers.”
Joel was still softly chuckling, he looked at you both with adoration and his heart ached softly for his Sarah, she had gone off to college and found herself a nice guy there so she was rarely home anymore, mainly just for the big days like Thanksgiving or Christmas. He watched as your dad joked around with you, his heart bloomed at the thoughts of Sarah but more importantly, he kept staring at you. The way you moved or the way your eyes seemed to sparkle whenever something made you laugh; he could watch you all day with intense interest, he wanted to make you laugh more just to see the sparkle in your features. He certainly couldn’t help the way his eyes followed your heaving chest as you laughed, the red fabric of your bikini top seemed like it could give out any second, somewhere in Joel’s mind he urged it to happen, just so he could catch a glimpse of you, more of you.
Joel knew his feelings, his lust for you, was wrong on many levels but he also felt like it was mutual at times. He was sure he could see your eyes roaming his body, he could see your mind ticking away at thoughts of him. He tried to be better than his thoughts and not get carried away with them but days at the beach made it impossible, especially when you would walk off to go swim or get a drink; the bottoms of your bikini rose up so high he could almost see all of your ass as you walked.
-
The day wore on, you had your nose in your book for the majority of it, only occasionally leaving to go get another drink or take a dip into the cool sea to cool yourself off. That’s where you were now, you were in the sea, just bobbing along and swimming casually, more just there to feel the cool embrace of the salty water on your tanning skin. You could see your dad and Joel, still, your father had fallen asleep after a couple of beers and no doubt, the heat. Joel was there, his thick legs outstretched as he watched people walk by; you couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop when Joel smiled at a younger woman who walked by, his eyes followed her as she left his line of vision.
You left the water, walked back over to where your father and Joel were sat and you grabbed your towel from the floor, making sure to bend yourself over in Joel’s direction. He noticed, of course he did. His eyes tracked up the length of shapely legs until his gaze bored into your behind, the wet material of your bikini bottoms clung to your ass.
“This,” you gestured at your dad. “Is the reason you old men shouldn’t drink in the heat, you can’t handle it.” You teased with a soft laugh as you sat yourself down next to Joel on the beach towels.
“I’m still standing, aren’t I?” Joel retorted with a roll of his eyes.
“Barely, Miller.” You smirked and grabbed your sunscreen from your bag.
You took a generous amount and started to rub it into the soft skin of your legs, stretching yourself to cover every inch of your skin liberally. Joel’s eyes watched you, they watched your delicate hands rub your flesh and he hungrily thought how it should be him rubbing you down like that.
“Joel?” You said annoyed, waving your small hand in front of his features. “I just asked could you please rub some into my back for me?”
Joel was pulled from his trance, crashing back down to earth and silently, he thanked someone up there for answering his prayers.
“Of course I can, darlin’.” He smiled sweetly and tapped the spot on his towel next to him. “C’mhere and sit in front of me.”
You nodded and placed yourself in front of the male, as instructed. Joel’s large hands were soon rubbing at the bare flesh of your shoulders and you shuddered under his touch, the sunscreen cool against your burning skin. His hands dipped lower, his fingers rubbing the creamy liquid into your skin; his fingers dug into your shoulders roughly and you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your lips.
Joel couldn’t help but smirk to himself as he let his fingers expertly massage your tense shoulders, your head lulled forward as you enjoyed the sensation of him massaging you.
“You wanna stop moaning so loud, your daddy will wake up and get the wrong idea, sweetheart.” Joel chuckled, his voice fanning across your ear as he leant forward.
“Feels so good though.” You sighed happily, your eyes falling shut as Joel continued to rub your body down.
“Too bad your sunscreen is applied then, isn’t it.” Joel teased with a smirk.
You whined softly, feeling annoyed as his hands left your body and you turned your head behind yourself to look at the male.
“D-don’t stop… please. Feels so good.”
Joel cocked his head to the side as you took his hands and placed them back on your body, you held his hand as you guided them back over to your skin. You slid them slowly down the curved lines of your side, back up and let them draw slowly over your bikini-clad chest until you rested them back onto your shoulders with a soft, contented sigh.
Joel cleared his throat behind you, he could feel himself almost immediately stiffen in his swim shorts as his palms rubbed over your chest, he could feel the hard bud of your nipples under the thin fabric. There had always been flirtatious jokes between you, ever since you came into Joel’s life you had become this sort of forbidden fruit that lingered over his head. He knew he couldn’t ever have you, you were his friend’s daughter and so much younger than him. But there you were today, in an impossibly small bikini, your smooth skin just begging to be devoured by him there and then. And your hands on his? Leading him over the most forbidden expanses of your body, right whilst your father snoozed by you both.
“Darlin’…” Joel warned breathlessly, his hands still massaging your shoulders.
“Joel.” You smirked.
“What are you playing at?” He asked quietly, his face lingering near the skin of your neck, his lips ghosting over you causing you to shudder.
“Hmm?” You hummed innocently. “Just putting you to work, your massage feels amazing. Plus you’re protecting my delicate, young skin from the dangers of skin cancer.” You jested.
“Oh is that right? I forgot you needed sunscreen smeared over your bikini.”
You laughed softly, you knew you Joel wanted you and you wanted him just as bad. You weren’t sure whether it was a cumulative reaction from the baking sun, the beers or Joel’s heady scent but something was making you bold; your eyes scanned the area to ensure no eyes were on you before you took Joel’s hands once more and landed them onto your breasts. You squeezed his hands this time so he could properly cup the fleshy mounds and you bit back a soft moan.
“I want you…” you whispered, you could still feel Joel’s lips near your skin and he soon took it upon himself to kiss at the sensitive pulse point in your neck.
You pressed your body backwards to his and almost immediately you could feel the hard curve of his thick member pressing against your ass; just the thin materials of your swimsuits keeping you away from what you craved. You clenched around nothing, your body throbbing to feel him where you wanted him most.
“Fuck.” Joel cursed. “Keep making me touch you and I’ll cum in my shorts like a teenage boy.” He laughed, his hands following down the curve of your sides until he gripped at your ass roughly.
Joel stood up behind you, you turned around to protest but he was holding his hand out for you to take it. You obliged, unsure of his plan but willing to follow him anywhere.
“Where are we?” You asked and Joel just turned around to smirk at you.
He led you over to the shoreline, towards a more secluded area and slowly he submerged you both into the water. The ocean came up to around your chest, you were able to stand but the waves splashed around you to hide you both well.
“Needed to hide away from everyone, need to have my way with you.” Joel said quietly, cautious in case there were nearby people.
“We are not fucking in the ocean.” You laughed ludicrously.
“Why not? You scared, princess?” Joel smirked, his hands held your hips strongly as you both bobbed with the motion of the sea. “Thought you wanted me?”
“I swear to god, Miller if I get a UTI from this, you’ll be the one that’s paying for the prescription to sort me out.” You rolled your eyes and let your hand cup at Joel’s still hard member, your fingers squeezed his length and he let out a low groan.
“Come here and kiss me.” Joel said softly, holding the back of your head to land a bruising kiss to your mouth; his lips moved dominantly against yours, you were entirely at his will as he kissed you.
You wrapped your legs around Joel’s waist, the water making you almost weightless and your hands gripped either side of his face to kiss him deeper. Your tongue dipped into his mouth and you whimpered as you tasted him for the first time, you had craved him for so long. His rough facial hair scratched at the skin of your face and you relinquished the sting as his tongue fought against yours.
Joel reached a hand down between you both, his awkwardly pulled his member free in the water and yanked your bikini bottom to the side so he could push himself into your wet hole. He held both your hips once more and used them as leverage to bring your body down until you were fully seated onto his cock. You pulled away from the kiss to rest your forehead against his, a breathless gasp falling from your kiss-swollen lips.
“F-fuck,” you whimpered, your arms looping around Joel’s neck to hold him weakly as he built up a steady rhythm of you bouncing onto his dick.
To any passers-by you would both be seen cuddling, bobbing in the current of the ocean; just a sweet moment between a loving couple. The thrill of potentially being caught made your body ache and you fluttered your walls around Joel as you somewhat awkwardly worked yourself onto his cock.
“So tight, never wanna leave you. Should stay buried in your pretty cunt, need you warming my cock forever.” Joel mumbled against your lips.
You couldn’t help but blush at his words, your hands clawed gently at his bare shoulders as Joel nudged his cock against the bundle of nerves buried deep in your walls. You could already feel your stomach bubble with your impending orgasm, you knew you needed to be quick as to not arouse suspicions if your father awoke from his nap.
“Joel,” you whined quietly, your head still lulling against Joel’s forehead. “God I wish we were somewhere more stable so you could fuck me as rough as I deserve.” You whispered, lips tickling against Joel’s sun-kissed skin.
Joel let out a breathy laugh as his large hands pawed at the doughy flesh of your ass. He groaned softly as held onto you and pushed his hips up harder and faster.
“We need to speed this up, baby girl. Don’t want your daddy questioning where we are, do we?” He whispered. “Dip your hand down and play with your clit, need you to cum at least once before we go back.”
You bit your lip as Joel manoeuvred your hips below the water, you bucked your hips forward as Joel’s thick cock filled you deliciously and you pushed your hand into your bikini bottoms. Your delicate fingers nimbly circled your clit and you gasped loudly, the sensations building throughout your body.
“Please tell me you’ll fuck me again?” You asked, eyes pleading with the older man as your fingers moved faster. “Fuck, need you again and again and again.” You moaned, the noise louder than initially intended.
Joel groaned and nodded as he brought your hips down again roughly, the water still slowing his motions. “I’ll fuck you whenever you want, princess. Whatever you want.”
“I-I’m gonna —“ you whimpered, your voice dying off as a high-pitched whimper fell from your lips.
You clenched around Joel, your spongy walls gripping his cock like he had never had before and he moaned gruffly.
You removed your fingers from your clit and you knew Joel was close by the way his cock was twitching as he thrust into you again. You giggled as you reached under the fabric of your bikini top and released your tits from the refraining fabric. Your soft mounds bobbed in the water but it was enough to push Joel over the edge.
He came quickly, holding you in place to take every last drop of him and in that moment, you were grateful that the ocean would at least help you somewhat freshen up before you headed back. Your name fell from Joel’s lips softly as he clumsily thrust up a couple more times before his head fell forward to rest on your chest so he could suck in a few deep breaths.
“Please never put your top back on, it’s a crime against humanity that you cover your body up.” He laughed, his chest still heaving with the effort.
You rolled your eyes with a fond giggle and finally unlatched your legs from around Joel’s hips. You redid up your bikini top and ensured your bottoms were on correctly before starting to swim off away from Joel.
You reached the sand once again and began walking back to the spot where your dad was still snoozing.
“Meet me tonight.” Joel whispered, his hand resting on the small of your back.
“What?” You asked, looking back at him as you continued to walk.
“Come to mine tonight, let your dad fall asleep and I’ll come and pick you up. You’ll be back before he knows. I need to fuck you properly.”
You nodded, not trusting your shaking voice to speak.
“And for now, enjoy the feeling of my cum slowly leaking from you for the rest of the afternoon and evening. I’ll clean you up later, I promise.” He smirked, running ahead of you to go back to laying down on his towel.
You sat down and picked your book back up, pretending you had any interest in the words on the page in front of you.
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#dbf!joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller#pedro pascal#dbf!joel#joel x reader#Joel miller brainrot
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Text
The spaces between my fingers are where yours fit perfectly
When comparing hands, you realize how tiny you are to him.
ಇ. Character x Female Reader/MC
(Included parts in order: Caleb, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne)
ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, comforting and healing, size gap, long-distance relationship (for Caleb's part)
ಇ. Word count: 3k2
ಇ. Requested anonymously
ಇ. The title of this fic is a lyric from Owl City's song - Vanilla Twilight.
ಇ. Masterlist
ಇ. Request
𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃
Since childhood, you had always loved holding Caleb's hand.
You adored putting your small hand in his palm. To feel such warmth. His hands were usually larger than yours. At first, there was not much difference between the hands of two children. But as you got older, the gap widened. You began to notice this and frequently inclined him to compare hands.
“Hey Caleb, give me your hand.”
"What for?"
“Just do what I said, and give me your hand.”
Caleb was thrilled, waiting for you to place a piece of candy or anything intriguing in his hand, which had just expanded to its full size. Then he got upset when he felt the touch of your hand instead.
"What are you doing?"
"Hmmph." You pouted. "Still not as big."
You put your hand on Caleb's, measuring front, back, left and right. He eventually lost patience and said:
“Why are you measuring my hand?”
“Because I want my hands to be as big as yours. Only with such big hands can you hold so many gifts and pies from Grandma..."
Your face was extremely serious as you spoke, but it made Caleb roll around in the grass, laughing until his stomach hurt.
“Why are you laughing at me?!” You felt a little offended. You struck Caleb hard on the arm. It was painful.
"Ouch!" He yelled, then got up to face you. His hair still had grass in it. "Listen up, pipsqueak. Your hand will never be bigger than mine."
"Why?"
“Because I will always be taller than you, bigger than you. I must be taller to protect you and Grandma! My hands must be bigger to always hold yours!”
Having said that, Caleb curled his fingers around your palm. You grinned naively, believing that such large hands were ideal for doing all of the chores or lifting heavy objects for you.
One time, while learning to cook with Grandma, Caleb burned his hand. He tolerated pain very well and did not whine. On the contrary, it was you who frantically ran to find ointment to apply to him. You were crying:
“Caleb, you have to be careful! You have to take care of these hands... If something happens to them, who will do the housework for me?..."
Caleb laughed. He used his other hand to pat your head. “What are you worried about, pipsqueak? I will always protect you. Who did I start learning how to cook for?"
You sobbed. Honestly, you felt so terrible every time Caleb got hurt.
Time seemed to fly by. You both were growing up. The space between the two hands also extended. At one point, suddenly, just comparing hands with him turned your cheeks red.
But these days, you did not get to do that often anymore. Caleb went to the academy so far away, and then his long missions left him with few opportunities to visit home. In his free time, you could only chat with him online. You really missed the feeling of his large hands shielding yours. You said:
“Caleb. Give me your hand.”
On the laptop screen, he burst out laughing. “What now? Even though I'm so far away, you still want to measure my hand?"
“Just do what I said.”
Caleb shook his head in defeat. He brought his hand close to the camera and spread out five slim fingers. His hands were thin and smooth, but after being accepted into the academy, you could feel the roughness or new calluses there. You smiled, raised your hand to the screen and pressed it against his.
“Looking from this angle, my hand is bigger than yours!”
“Wow, pipsqueak has grown bigger and stronger than me!”
Oh, how much you missed him! You were about to burst into tears and tell him to come home to you right that moment. It had been a long time since his last return. You longed to hold his hand.
But you wouldn't make Caleb worry if he had to embark on a mission away from home. You tried to show him your brightest smile. And you whispered:
“Yeah. You've always taken care of me since I was little. Now it's my turn to be stronger to take care of you."
Caleb knew you so well, because you were always the thing in the palm of his hand he cherished most in the world. He was silent for a long moment, then gently said:
“Pipsqueak, don't be sad. I'll come home to you next weekend, okay? Make sure you eat plenty. If I return home and notice that your hands have thinned even just a little bit, I will be very displeased!"
𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
The first time you met him, he left an impression on you with his large and steady hand.
You found Xavier on a mission. Since he did not move, you came closer and gently shook him. Then his large hand gripped your wrist securely. You were astonished by the sudden vigor with which you were seized. To be honest, you were afraid at the moment.
The second time you met him, his big hand protected you once more and took you out of danger. That hand placed around your waist, not squeezing hard to the point you became uneasy, but it was a gentle touch, as if he was frightened you might vanish if he held you too closely. Perhaps from that moment on, you felt the warmth and safety of being in his arms. And all your walls eventually collapsed, embracing the way he entwined his soul with your own.
Then you became used to holding his hand as you walked together. When you had to maneuver through a congested area, he would gently squeeze your fingers, as if to remind you to pay more attention to him. And as you two went along a quiet street or sat on the subway with his head resting on your shoulder, he tenderly rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. A gentle gesture, just enough to let everyone know that this girl was his.
His knuckles were hardened from sword practice. His skin was also consistently dry. He was clueless about how to take care of himself. So you began to learn about lotions for nourishing hands.You always carried a tube with you. On one occasion, you took it out and applied it to Xavier's hand.
"What's this?" He inquired.
“Hand cream.” You murmured this as you massaged the soft white cream into Xavier's obediently outstretched hands. “Your skin is so dry. I bought this for you to use.”
He did not answer, just stared intently at you taking care of him. When the thin layer of cream was absorbed, he turned his hands over and observed with a blank expression.
You giggled, then held out a hand in front of his face and said:
“Put your hand here.”
Xavier displayed confusion before placing his hand on yours and softly hitting the palm.
"High-five?" He inquired, continuing to appear perplexed.
"No." You answered, grasping Xavier's wrist to keep his hand close to yours. "I want to see how large your hands are. Hmmm…"
Xavier's hand was a little bigger than yours. You loved these hands. They constantly offered you a sense of security. On any endeavor, you could put your life in his hands without any hesitation. In daily life, you would always reach for his hand whenever you went out, or when your free hand wanted to feel his warmth. The only thing you never dared trust in these hands was, perhaps, cooking.
Xavier smiled. His hands felt significantly smoother after applying the cream, and they retained a very subtle flowery aroma. He laced his fingers with yours, then leaned down and placed a kiss on your hand.
“My hands smell like yours now.”
"Of course." You replied while blushing. “It's the same type of hand cream.”
Xavier did not respond. You caught him pondering for a long time. The next day, you found him applying the entire tube of cream on his hands.
"Oh dear! What are you doing? There's no need to apply that much!”
You quickly went to get a towel to help him clean up. He sat on the sofa, looking rather bewildered while you asked him:
“Are you going to use up the entire tube like that?”
Xavier responded: “Yeah… Since… This morning when I woke up, I couldn't smell your cream anymore. I want to use it all so the fragrance lasts longer.”
You rolled my eyes at Xavier, and a few seconds later you fell down laughing on the sofa. "Oh my! You did it in vain. These things don't last long."
“Is that so…” Disappointment was evident on Xavier's face. Seeing that, you sat close and tangled your hand with his. You said:
“If you like this scent, I will buy more for you.”
“What I like is your scent.” Xavier replied. His thumb caressed your hand. “I like the scent of your hair, your clothes, your hands… Everything that belongs to you…”
You were surprised, and delighted. Your face was more radiant than the sun outside the window. His hand felt so large and warm. If you could, you would never want to let go.
You squeezed his hand once. Fingers pressed closely together. You progressed from being terrified of this foreign hand to when it became familiar, and now inseparable. It was weird, since despite only knowing him for a short time, it felt like you had loved him your whole life.
Leaning your head on his shoulder, you whispered:
“Xavier, don't ever let go of my hand, okay?”
"Never."
𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
You preferred to visit Rafayel's studio more frequently these days. Of course, compared to staying in a small apartment alone, coming here to work with him, drenched in sunlight and sea breeze, surrounded by flowers and grass, was definitely a much more sensible choice.
But the main reason remained Rafayel. You enjoyed watching him in silence, as he concentrated on painting. His long fingers wrapped around the brush, perfect as if he was the work of art. You had undoubtedly noticed Rafayel's hands since the first time you met, when he demonstrated his incredible fishing talents. He was adept at wielding a racket and far more skilled at holding a brush. The hues of the mythical world depicted in the painting gradually revealed itself under his magical hands. He did not always use a brush, instead dipping his hands in the paint, and as his fingers started dancing on the white canvas, you believed you saw a rainbow even though it was not sunny that day.
You loved how Rafayel rotated the brush in his palm while contemplating before getting started with painting. You loved the way his fingers held the chopsticks and transformed the food into a culinary movie. You liked the way he wrapped his long finger in your hair to play with it. It seemed that everything he did with his hands was perfect, and unreal.
“Rafayel. Can you raise your hand?” You asked him that out of nowhere one afternoon at the studio. He was focused on an art book, so he did not respond and simply executed what you asked.
You extended your hand, intending to press it against his. Yet he raised his hand a bit higher. You grimaced and lifted your palm high. He did that again, and again, until his arm was stretched to its full length, and so was yours. The only thing was, since yours was shorter, you could not reach his palm.
“Rafayel!” You shouted fiercely. He closed the book he was reading and flung it on the sofa. On his face was a triumphant smile.
"What? Can't reach it?"
With an irritated expression, you rose up and seized his hand. Fingers intertwined, perfect as if he and you were made for each other. You used a great force to push Rafayel down into the sofa, while your other hand maintained your body weight by positioning it near his neck.
The smile on Rafayel's face disappeared. The scarlet hue of a ripe tomato gradually crept across his statue-like face and reached his ears. Rafayel seemed displeased.
“Are you bullying me?”
“Who bullied who first?” You argued back.
Noticing that Rafayel had begun to move beneath you, his hand entwined with yours now yearning to escape, you held him even tighter. His hands were slender and cool, velvety like a baby's skin. The veins were barely visible underneath the thin skin. The fingers were extremely lengthy; they belonged to an artist rather than a warrior like you. Even his nails were tidy, pink, and well-filed. Looking back at your hand in his, it was dry and small, with short fingers and nails that were neglected due to a lack of time, you were unable to avoid feeling envious.
“Hey, if you want to hold my hand, just say it.” Rafayel gazed at you furiously. “Is it necessary to pin me down like this?”
“I don't want to hold your hand. I just want to compare it with mine.”
Rafayel scoffed. He replied: “Comparing hands, why? We all know for a fact that I have the most gorgeous hands in the world.”
Seeing how he started praising himself, I sat up bored, intending not to joke with him again. But Rafayel refused to let go of your hand. The other curled around your waist, clutching you hard.
"Where are you going? We haven't finished talking yet, have we? If you like my hands so much, how about I give them to you?”
"Huh?" You were a bit startled. In your mind a scenario of receiving a huge gift box. When you opened it, you discovered Rafayel's severed and bloody hands inside...
Rafayel squeezed your face, as if he knew you were thinking nonsense.
“Whatever you're thinking, with that expression, I'm sure it's not what I want. Follow me.”
Rafayel led you into the warehouse, he pulled out some plaster powder and a few necessary tools. Later that day, there was a new piece in Rafayel's studio, yet not a painting. It was a statue of a small hand tangled with a larger one. A precise duplicate of yours and Rafayel's.
“Come to think of it,” he said as he looked at the final work with you. “My hands are most beautiful when intertwined with yours.”
𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
Doctor Zayne's hands were often cold.
You still remembered learning to knit with Grandma and making gloves for Zayne when you lived close. Unfortunately, you did not get a chance to present them to him yet. You kept them in your old box at home till this day.
At the time, his hands were already significantly larger than yours. They were chilly since his Evol was occasionally unrestrained. In situations like that, he would put his hands in his pockets, look down, and leave fast. Even though you chased him down to ask him questions, he declined to speak, much alone show you his hands.
At the time, there was no scar on his hands.
Presently, when you put on his large gloves, you noticed how enormous his hands were. Your hand was buried beneath a thick layer of wool, only taking up about half of the glove's space. You rolled your eyes.
“Doctor Zayne, look!” You raised your gloved hand for him to see. The wool glove's fingertips had extra room and swung to the rhythm as you waved them. Obviously, the glove was excessively big for you.
“Stop playing around.” Doctor Zayne replied. He took the other glove and put it on your other hand. “Put this on.”
“It's too big. I feel like I'm a monster with gigantic hands!”
You laughed. Zayne grabbed your hands and hoisted them up. He inhaled to keep them warm and responded: "Because someone has lost her gloves on the way here, she must accept her fate of becoming a monster."
Zayne chuckled, but his serious expression made you question if he was fooling or condemning you for being irresponsible. He and you were on holiday in the snow-covered mountains. How silly of you to have misplaced your gloves and not remembered where you had put them. Hence he had to let you temporarily borrow his.
Even after you bought a new pair, you preferred the feeling of putting your hands in Zayne's gloves. Especially when they still felt his warmth lingering inside.
Zayne's hands were always so big, they were twice the size of yours. Your body shape was average, but when you stood next to him, you appeared strangely tiny. He could easily lift you up. He could hold both of your hands together with only one of his. And he could hold all five snow seals lined up side by side in one hand at your request.
His hands were covered with scars. When you inquired about their history, he just made up an explanation that he washed his hands too thoroughly. He saw you as a three-year-old child. Of course you did not believe it at all, but would not ask more until he was comfortable enough to share his story with you. You adored tracing the scars and veins that bulged beneath his skin. Sometimes, he felt ticklish. Other times, he would tell you to stop messing around while he was working. But he never truly pushed your tiny hand aside.
There were times when his hands became very cold. Extremely cold. As his habit, he buried them in his layers of garments without letting you know. He would not dare touch you since he was frightened you would catch that cold. Yet in moments like that, all you ever wanted was to hold him close.
You removed his hands from his coat pockets. They felt as frigid as ice when you touched them. Doctor Zayne frowned. He wanted to withdraw his hands but you clutched them hard. Your little, trembling fingers curled around and cherished those cold hands. You offered them your warm breath.
“Let go of them. You will be cold.” Zayne expressed worry. But you shook your head.
“Just wait a little longer and we'll both warm up.”
“I will… hurt you…”
That was what terrified Zayne. What if he lost control and accidentally hurt you? He would never be able to forgive himself if that happened. There had been many times he had avoided or hidden from you, but in the end, you were always the one who ran to his side when he needed you the most.
Eventually, he gave in. He relaxed his hands in your palms. He rested his head on your forehead, his eyes softly closing. In you there was always the warmth that he yearned.
After a while, Zayne warmed up. You were not cold anymore. Between the hands was an immeasurable warmth that both he and you desired to cherish forever.
That winter, you gave him a pair of new gloves with snowmen on that you had knitted. They clasped securely around Zayne's fingers, a reminder that no matter what, you would never let go of his hands.
#heart hunters series#love and deepspace#love and deepspace fanfic#caleb#mahiru#xia yizhou#xavier#shen xinghui#seiya#rafayel#qi yu#homura#zayne#rei#li shen#lnds x reader#lads x reader#l&ds x reader#lads caleb#lads xavier#lads rafayel#lads zayne#zayne x reader#zayne x you#zayne x mc#caleb x mc#caleb x reader#caleb x you#rafayel x reader#rafayel x mc
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