#toothless is too bright on the other hand
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𝝑𝝔 an: i had 2 requests about babysitting yuuji and they were similar so i did the earlier one i hope its alright. read more!!
“hey, loser, what’s up?”
you smile at the sound of sukuna’s voice, “jus’ reading. what about you?”
you sense him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line at the mention of yet another book you’ve been gushing about.
“‘m still with the old man.” he grumbles, referring to his father, but his tone changes to a more serious one, making you worry, “look, there’s somethin’ i wanna ask you.”
“anything for you, ‘kuna.”
“could you watch yuuji for a couple of hours? jin’s been called from work and i can’t leave the old man alone right now, so…”
“of course! i adore yuuji, y’know that.”
he sighs in relief and chuckles, his fondness seeping through the line, “aren’t you the sweetest little thing? i’ll see you later then.”
“bye, ‘kuna!”
you close your book after bookmarking the page and jump from your bed to prepare and run to sukuna’s place, excited to spend time with his nephew.
jin’s relief when you appear in his doorway, a little out of breath but with a bright beam that matches yuuji’s nonetheless. he quickly gives you a list of things you should remember when watching over the little guy and presses a gentle kiss on both of your foreheads, leaving you a bit flustered and yuuji very happy.
you find it that 5-year old yuuji isn’t that to look after.
he is such a sweet boy; leading you through the house with his chubby fingers snugly wrapped around yours, giving you his big big smile that outshines everyone’s despite missing tooth on the front. he absolutely adores the way you treat him like he and you are on the same level, avoiding hurting him if gets even a little capricious and responding with the same energy he gives off.
yuuji loves to talk a lot, not shying away from anything that comes to his mind, still an unfiltered, naturally unlike his more balanced father and his barely approachable uncle. it’s impossible to be annoyed with him, his innocence and genuine interest in every little thing is so sweet you can’t help the fondness oozing through every word you say to him.
such a helpful boy too; even though he makes a face at the vegetables you put on his plate(jin emphasised on feeding it to him any possible way)he still eats them, distracted by your silly antics. he helps you with the dishes, clumsily drying the plates with his head barely even peeking over the counter. picking up the toys he plays with right after and putting them back in their places. and you can tell that jin, although alone, still does a pretty good job of raising the sweetest boy out of him, which warms your heart.
ruffling the pink tufts of hair on his head, pinching his cheeks lovingly, holding him close as he himself initiates physical contact, always eager to be in your space and accept and give love. throughout the rest of the day you clearly understand that just like falling in love with sukuna it’s just as easy to love little itadori yuuji and you find yourself easily giving in to his charming nature, feeling closer to him and his family than ever before.
when it’s time to go to sleep, he whines a little bit about not being sleepy to which you make a point of reminding him jin’s words(“if you behave extra good today i’ll give you a present, ‘kay?”). he just salutes with the wrong hand and tugs you to the bathroom to brush his teeth.
nestled in the comfort of his bed, with you sitting on your knees by its side, yuuji initiates another conversation, albeit his yawns keep interrupting his minds’ flow.
“d’you think i’ll be like dad and uncle when i grow up?”
your brows raise at the sudden seriousness in the little boy’s tone, “do you wanna be like them, yuuji?”
“of course! they are the coolest!”
you smile at him fondly, stroking the side of his face soothingly, to help him fall asleep faster, “you’ll be even cooler.”
he flashes you his toothless grin once again and closes his eyes.
“night night, yuuji.”
he mumbles something in response and dozes off, clutching his blanket. you kiss his forehead and try to contain another yawn, not even noticing the sleep catching up to you too as you continue gazing at him, lids falling closed a few seconds after.
the silence greeting them while they enter the house makes sukuna frown. jin is still not home, shoes absent from their usual spot, but you’re still there and he can’t help the excitement building up inside of him because he missed you.
he calls your name, yuuji, walking further in, yet still no response. throwing his things on the table in the guest room, sukuna can’t help but observe that his surroundings are neatly cleaned, even more than before. he looks around in the kitchen, knocks in the bathroom, inspects the living room — still no answer. so he decides to check yuuji’s room, maybe you’re playing or something and too distracted to hear him.
the sight that greets him is something new though, stealing the air all the way from his chest as his eyes widen. he slowly steps closer, hissing silently at the annoying squeaky floorboards, and crouches before you. you seem very very uncomfortable in that position, yet the way yuuji’s body is facing yours makes it clear that you were just waiting for the boy to fall asleep and joined him unintentionally. so cute, so warm it melts away the leftover iceberg that is his heart.
his hand caresses your cheek gently before poking it repeatedly, making you stir in your sleep.
“huh? ’kuna?”
he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as he lifts you up, “was the little shit good to you?”
“yuuji? he was the sweetest.” you blink at him sleepily, nuzzling deeper into his chest. sukuna can’t help the soft smile that stretches on his lips.
“thank you for the help, baby.”
“anytime, ‘kuna.”
#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna x you#cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader#jjk sukuna#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna fluff
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click! 4 (e.w.)
SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]
WORD COUNT: 6.7k
WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, angst… these hoes toxic, crazy sexual tension, kissing!!! :), fondling, dry humping, fingering!!, some dirty talk uh oh, slight unrequited love, bad communication… like awful, more slut shaming, mentions of awful parents, brief mention of alc and weed
This eucalyptus face mask is not doing what it’s supposed to!
Ultimate calming effect! Relaxation is at your feet and on your face!
… Yeah, right. Why is your blood pressure touching the ceiling, then?
It’s fucking Sunday and it’s dark outside. It’s not even seven yet. You can hear rustling in the living room and you know Ellie’s prepping for today. Your anxiety is through the roof and in the clouds!
Why the fuck did you accept this much responsibility again? What if you look like a fucking idiot and she fires you? Is this even a job if it’s a one-time thing? Your hands are sweating. Is it too late to jump out your window and plummet to your death?
Meow! Meow!
“Good morning, baby girl! Are you hungry?” You hear Ellie coo through the wall and your heart sores. You'd be smiling so wide if this mask wasn’t solid concrete.
You walk into the living room and are blinded by the bright ceiling lights. Your bill is going to skyrocket!
“Hi.”
Ellie, cat in arms, jumps at your voice, spinning to face you. Your skin is on fire as her eyes glaze over your appearance, cheeks tinting and fingers twitching under the thick fur.
“Hey… you look… you look nice,” She mutters back, and you smile.
“Thank you.”
Meow!
Ellie’s brow arches at the baby. “Yeah? You think so, too?”
Meow! Meow!
Ellie sets her down and lets her roam, shoving her hands into her sweats. She takes a step closer. “What’re we gonna name her?”
“Toothle— “
Ellie rolls her eyes, “Oh my god, that’s so fucking basic.”
“Well, excuse me! I’ll shut the fuck up!” You snark playfully, “What were you thinking, Ms. I don’t fuck with animals?”
“I already told yo— “
“AHT, AHT!” You hold a finger up to hush her and she scoffs, “Toothless is one of the best animated characters of our time! Loyal, cute as fuck! Fuck everybody else in that movie! Show the drag—”
“Pickle.”
“What.”
“I’ve been calling her Pickle! Her name is pickle.” Ellie’s smiling at the pattering kitten, and, for some reason, you don’t fight her on it. She looks so happy; Pickle it is.
She’s clicking her tongue at Pickle who rubs against her covered leg. With those gray sweats on, she’s luring two cats over—
“You ready?” Ellie exhales. Your eyes widen, yanked out of your drifting thoughts. You nod gently, jitters kicking in your fingertips.
“Sorry you had to wake up this early. It takes a while for me to edit and all that, but— “
“Ellie, don’t worry! I’m — I’m excited! Just, uh… Just guide me, I guess. You’re the one with the vision.” You’re not sure if the shoot or Ellie is making you nervous. She smells so good, freshly showered and warmth radiating off of her.
“… Guide you?” She smirks.
Suddenly, the air is hot. “Yeah, like… tell me what to do… f-for the shot.” You awkwardly point at the set.
“Giving me permission to use you?” She wisps and your lashes flutter, head bobbing dumbly in approval. The other cat has made her appearance! She’s meowing! Somebody stop her!
“Alright, then… go sit.” Ellie’s head nods towards the black stool in the middle of the backdrop, and you’re moving like a trackstar, plopping down on the stool. Ellie clicks her tongue again and Pickle meows.
“Gonna put her in my room for now. Don’t wanna scare her.” She scoops Pickle up and waddles into the short hallway, giving kit-kat one last kiss before softly shutting her door.
Your catless roomie is in front of you in an instant, fiddling with that big ass umbrella before adjusting her tripod.
“So, explain. What does all this do?”
“Um…” she looks through her camera lense. Right at you, “Different things. Has to do with light control for the most part. Red is your color, by the way.”
You gaze at your fit; You’re going to cry. “Thanks.”
“Mhm.”
Some silence passes before Ellie grumbles, “You’re slouching.”
Your shoulders instantly straighten. Maybe too much, “No, I’m not.”
A blank look from Ellie as she peeks from behind the lense, “Don’t slouch. You’re the star, remember?” She jabs jokingly. You take a deep breath. Another clumsy adjustment trying to find a pose.
Ellie snorts as she watches you struggle, and you pout. “I'm sorry! I don’t know…” You move like a robot and she laughs. Why is she walking closer? Oh, fuck—
“Here.” Her hands grab your shoulders, and you go lax, right in her grasp, allowing her to move you however she wants. Her touch is melting your skin through your sleeves.
“Just… stay there.” Three wide steps, and she’s behind her camera, “Chin down a little.” She mutters. She’s encouraging with every instruction you follow, and you’re relaxing. Your movements are small, but by the series of bright flashes, they must be good enough to capture. You hope. Please, God.
“Stay right there. That’s perfect.”
“That’s it. Yeah, put your leg there.”
“Twist your body a little.”
I like that look, that’s good. Keep doing that.
You don’t know what your eyes are doing, but Ellie's eating it up. She doesn’t know what her words are doing for your confidence. She’s in your ears, in your presence, encouraging everything you’re giving the flashing camera. Your poses get bolder, eyes going softer the more you inspect her.
“Chin down again. Like… look through your lashes…”
Ellie’s so focused on you and it’s making your mouth water. She’s so calm and controlling, but not overbearing. She lets you take the reins and yanks them when she’s got something. The twist of your wrist, the flutter of your lashes, the doting expression on your face. It’s sparking something in her, you can see it from where you sit. She's so attractive when she’s working.
And then she smiles and your heart leaps. Flash.
“You like this.” She notes.
Another flash when you smile, “A little. This is fun.”
“Oh, yeah? I’m getting booked for your grad pics?”
Not if you fail statistics! “Gonna have to ask my dad! He’s picky!”
She hums with a light chuckle. “You look good in these. He’ll like me.”
More flashes, and there’s scratching at Ellie’s door. She sighs like it pains her to continue, “Hold on, baby! Almost done!” She coos at Pickle.
She mutters, “I’m gonna take, like… ten more. The mood’s gonna change a little if that’s cool.”
You stop yourself from slouching. “Sure, uh… what do I do now?”
“Imagine love as a vice. Think about the turmoil that comes with losing that feeling for somebody.”
Your mind instantly whirls to Dina and your heart cracks. What a turn of fucking events!
“Um… is that like… isn’t that like, a lot?”
Ellie’s unfazed, “Emotions are a lot. That’s the point.”
You don’t like this anymore. Vulnerability. Blegh. “… Okay.”
She’s waiting on you, but you’re frozen. You can’t stop thinking about every moment you and Dina spent together. Everything was so… good. It was filled with happiness. You anticipated every day that came because it meant you’d see her.
“Alright?”
You look up at Ellie’s call. You ignore her.
“Am I emoting well?” You snicker sarcastically. You’re aching inside.
She studies you, all over your face, but you’re stunted. You don’t know what to say.
“Yes.” She whispers, and you nod, mind wandering to the darkest parts of your memory. You miss being happy. The camera’s flashing, but you’re unperturbed. How much will you be able to ruin before you die? If your wallowing is jeopardizing the shot, Ellie doesn’t comment on it. You focus on the clock ticks coming from the kitchen.
Ellie’s gentle voice pulls you from underwater after a while, “Okay… I think that’s it.” Your breath is ragged and your fingers won’t stop twitching. You’re up from your seat with a breathy okay, sliding into the kitchen and stealing a water bottle from the fridge. There’s cluttering behind you but you’re desperately downing your drink.
She's closer than you think. Right behind you, actually! You almost choke when her hand softly closes around your bicep.
“Hey, um… You okay?”
You swallow harshly and nod, blinking away tears; She’s so close, “Love fucking sucks.” You joke wetly.
A laugh that caresses your ears escapes her, “Damn. Fuck that shit, then.”
“Finally, someone gets it! Fuck, like…” You set your water down and wipe away heavy droplets with your free arm. Ellie’s eyes travel over your face, lands of green sparkling in her pupils.
“I really appreciate you doing this for me.” She whispers.
“Of course!” Your smile is delicate, “I hope there’s something in there you can use.”
Her head shakes, smile as gentle as rose petals, “I got it, trust me.”
The silence that follows is heavy, your breaths in sync. “Was… Are you okay?” You’ve never seen her eyes this delicate. You nod, eyes dropping to her mouth on instinct. You’re suddenly back in your car, you and Ellie leaning over the center console to get to each other. Her breath is hitting your face again, and you’re itching for her to kiss you.
She’s reading your body language the closer she gets, checking in, memorizing every green light you’re giving her.
“Ellie…” You can’t even hear yourself. Her hand unravels from your arm, frosting your sizzling cheek like snowflakes. Her warmth is engulfing you, and with one last breath, her lips connect with yours. It's short lasting, though. Ellie pulls away, shock plastered on her face.
She's stuttering and slowly backing away… or something like that. You’re not listening, nor do you want an apology. You grab the drawstring dangling from her gray hoodie and yank her closer, mouth pressing against hers.
Ellie’s stiffness melts, weightless against you as your mouths mold together. She's sighing, arm wrapping around your waist, warmth simmering between your closed bodies. Your arms wrap around her neck as she inches forward, small steps until you're pressed against the marble.
The kiss is slow and steady. You both give in to each other, studying, memorizing every inch of her mouth. Gentle smacks sound in the silent space of the kitchen, clammy hands traveling anywhere they can reach: the nape of her neck, massages on your hips, steadying your stumbles as you push against her. Your fingers inch upwards until they're at her sloppily done bun, loosening the hair tie and pulling as gently as you can, soft strands wrapping around your digits like vines.
Ellie’s humming and her hips push against you, so you pull again, smiling gently into the kiss. She pushes again, harder this time, hips languid as they trap you against the counter. Your thighs widen for her, and she takes the lead, hands digging into your thighs and lifting you onto the granite.
The kiss turns desperate swiftly after, Ellie’s tongue pushing past your mouth, her hands slowly pulling your tucked shirt from your pants. You’re biting at her lip, caressing her thighs over her sweats, trapping her between your legs, keeping her close.
One last wet smack and you’re traveling down her jaw to the side of her neck, littering kisses all over her burning skin. You try not to make your inhales too obvious, but you can’t help it. Her scent drives you up a wall.
She follows your lead, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck, sucking the skin, lightly scratching at the skin on your hips. She yanks you closer, nearly sitting you on top of her, ass barely on the counter—
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
You both jolt like you’ve been caught, a thin line of spit connecting your bottom lips.
“Expecting someone?” She mumbles dazedly, and you silently deny. “Are you?”
“Be serious.” She says flatly.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
The pounds on the door aren’t shit to Ellie, apparently; Her lips are back on you in a second. A gasp surges through you, “Oh, fuck! What if someone saw Pickle and they’re tryna— “
“She’ll be fine,” she whines between suckles on your throat.
You whimper wantonly, but the knocks get aggressive. It has to be Carol! You don’t want Ellie to stop, but you push her.
“E—Ellie— “
She releases you with an annoyed huff, giving you enough room to hop off the counter. Scratches and meows alert you once more, and you run to the front door, whisper-yelling to Ellie, “Hide Pickle! Hide her!”
“Okay, okay, damn,” She sighs in annoyance, heading back down the hallway. You can hear Ellie’s soft shushes to the kitty, meows swiftly replaced with purrs. You think Pickle has chosen her favorite parent.
You yank the door open and your heart plummets.
“Hey, uh… hi.” Abby’s voice cracks and her nose is glowing red. Your heart pulls in your chest at the sight of her soft eyes.
“Hi, Abby,” You say softly. She shyly peers at her feet. “How are you?”
A soft smile spreads across her face, “I’m not here to talk about me, I wanna apologize. I, um… I wanted to call but I thought I’d do it in person.”
“No need. I’m sorry, to— “
But Abby isn’t having it, dropping onto one knee in the middle of the complex hallway, taking your hand in hers, “Oh, how I treated Thee, for I am full of regret. What do I owe Thou the pleasure of forgiveness?”
You holler laughter, “Bitch, is that a question? What the fuck do I say to that.”
“… I actually don’t know, what the fuck— “
“You’re actually the fucking worst, get up,” You’re pulling your friend to her feet and wrapping your arms around her neck, pressing light kisses to her cheek. She lifts you and carries you inside, kicking the door shut.
“Was it Carol?”
You barely hear your roommate from behind you. Abby sets you down, and you’re met with a… blank Ellie. This version of her is almost unfamiliar.
“Hm?”
“Was,” Her eyes flicker towards your friend, “Was it Carol?” Your eyes flicker to Abby, confused as ever.
“Um, no, thank God, right?” You laugh awkwardly, “Ellie, this is Abby. Abby, this is Ellie, my new roomie.”
Abby slaps on her signature smile, extending her hand in greeting, “Nice to meet you. I heard a lot.”
Ellie’s eyes flicker between Abby’s hand and her face, eyes squinted. She only nods before murmuring to you, “Pickle’s fed. Lock the door if you leave.”
Your mouth drops, but before you can say anything, Ellie’s door slams shut, lock clicking, barricading herself, shut off from the outside. Pickle scurries into your open space at the noise. A stunned Abby finally drops her hand and turns to you with an expression reading I told you so. Your heart jolts and it’s painful.
“C’mon,” Abby coos, hands massaging your shoulders, “I owe you pancakes.”
You try to smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Not like it should at the mention of a free meal. For some reason, you feel guilty.
IHOP needs to have their holiday menus all year round; These cinnamon roll pancakes are fucking lethal! You shoved your platter down and already want seconds. Abby’s too sweet to you.
“Abby.”
“Hm?” She gnaws at her turkey bacon.
“I’m in a predicament.”
“What’s the matter.”
“I think I like Ellie.”
Your friend pauses before sighing, “Alright. So, what’s the plan?”
“To die, I think. That’s the only plan.”
“Don’t say that,” she chuckles. You shrug.
“We made out and I liked it,” You whisper, “Like, a lot.”
“Did y’all smash?” You shake your head.
“Are you gonna tell her?”
You scoff, “Did you miss the part where I said to die? I’d rather die. She hates my fucking guts all over again.”
“I don’t think she does.”
“You don’t know her, Abby— “
“I know a jealous munch when I see one,” She smirks, “I was one for a long time.”
Your jaw drops, “Really? With who?”
She grins, but it doesn’t meet her eyes, “Don’t worry about it.”
You pout. Why didn’t she tell you?! Poor thing. You place a comforting hand on top of hers.
“Promise to tell me before graduation. I need some shit to look forward to.”
“Like you’re gonna remember.”
“Fuck off! I never forget anything!”
“Yeah, anyway, your roomie was jealous— “
Your shoulders drop and your eyes roll. Ellie and jealousy? Together? Bullshit. Tomfoolery. Fake news.
“Abby, I can't tell her— “
“Can’t or won’t?” Abby arches a brow, “You know what you do and don’t want. You’re creating stupid rules that combat your feelings and wonder why you end up hurt. Cut it out.”
… Either face your fears of abandonment or die alone. Interesting ultimatum. You choose the latter.
“You’re very easy to read, believe it or not. You like her. Accept it or move on,” Abby mumbles around her extra-crispy hash brown.
You sigh. You’ve accepted it a long time ago; That's the issue. The only thing that can help you right now is more fucking cinnamon roll pancakes. Abby better leave this apology tab open.
You’re hit with the usual warmth of the apartment the second you step in, finding Ellie on the couch with her feet kicked up, mindlessly fiddling with your favorite pen. Her silence makes your skin crawl; You never know what she’s thinking.
“So, what,” You shrug, setting your to-go bag on the counter, “Are you just gonna pout or are we gonna have an adult conversation?”
“I don’t think you’re capable of that,” She mumbles.
“What does that mean?”
“It means what it sounds like. You’re fucking immature and inconsiderate.”
Your heart nearly stops, “I’m— “
She slices through your words, “Save that I don’t know what you mean bullshit for someone else. If you and that bitch are still fucking, why the fuck did you kiss me?”
Her accusation makes you snap, “First of all, I haven’t fucked Abby in weeks! And even if I did, that’s none of your fucking business! I can do whatever the fuck I want and I don’t need to explain myself to you! And you kissed me first so don’t start!”
A grin grows on Ellie face, head tipping back onto the couch as she laughs to herself, sighing in disbelief, “I never thought I would regret a kiss so much in my fucking life, oh my god.”
You scoff, ignoring the sudden ache in your chest, “Fuck you.”
“You want to.”
You hate how heat builds in your stomach, “I want to?” You snark, “You shoved your tongue in my mouth a few hours ago. You want to. Don’t fucking piss me off.”
You stomp to your room before Ellie can say anything above her laughter. Your door slams and you pace across your small room. You ignore the stress building deep in your joints; The term is almost over. You don’t need this fucking bullshit on your back right now!
To think you and Ellie were starting to get on good terms. If she wants to play that game, then fine; You’ve mastered the sport at this point! The kiss meant nothing to you either!
You hope her Christmas is fucking awful and she finds nothing but a pile of fucking rocks in her marijuana sock. What a cunt—
Meow! Meow!
Your heart pulls at the small scratches at your door. You need your baby to give you some love since a certain someone won’t. Pickle calls out until you open the door, but your sad smile disappears at the sight of that someone propped against your door frame.
“She wanted her mommy.” Ellie nods down at the kitten rubbing against your leg.
“Fuck you.” You spit.
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you!” You shout and lean closer, but she doesn’t seem threatened. That same sparkle in her eye is back, and, suddenly, your body’s flaming for another reason. The tip of her nose twitches, once, twice, three times, and you refuse to hold back any longer.
You grab her face and kiss her. Kiss her as hard as you can. She’s so fucking aggravating; Why can’t she ever mind her fucking business? You’re sick of her clocking your pussy! The kiss is hot and quick and it sends vibrations down to your toes. It’s not until gentle purring fills your ears that you gasp and separate from your roommate.
You bend down to pick up your little princess. Ellie’s lips reconnect with your neck the second you're upright. “Did she eat?” You mutter.
“Mhm. Twice.” You nod and kiss her small, furry head, “She’s gonna be scratching at the door.” You ponder to yourself.
“We’ll make it quick,” She mumbles in between harsh sucks to your throat, nibbles at your lobe. You escape the attention for a split second to grab Pickle’s small toy mouse from your dresser, tossing it down the hall and into the living room. Her small paws skip across the floor as she slides the trinket all over the hardwood.
“We’re not fucking.” You say harsher than necessary.
“I didn’t ask.”
You gently shut the door and jump Ellie’s bones, releasing all your pent-up frustration and anger into another kiss. The formerly gentle tugs of her hair are replaced with harsh yanks that expose her throat. Seconds pass and she’s pushing you onto your unmade bed, body bouncing before she climbs on top of you, reconnecting your mouths in the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever shared… It’s doing something to your cooter, though. You’re wet as fuck.
Ellie’s fully onto top of you, body almost overheating from the layers of clothes between you. Her hips are sharp when they push into yours, swallowing all your stunned gasps and pleasured sighs. Your body is on fire and it’s making you lightheaded, but she feels so good on top.
Ellie’s cursing against your mouth and she bucks into you, right against the muscle of your thigh, and you just watch the flames spread in her orbs. Not the comforting greenery that you could get lost in for days. The trees are black and surrounded by clustered rubble. She’s grunting against your cheek, her nose hitting yours with every thrust.
A bold hand creeps between both your bodies and slips right into her wrinkly sweats, beneath her underwear, fingers drenched in seconds. You smirk when she whimpers your name between swears, palming the bud that throbs like a beating heart. Blush tints her cheeks the wetter she gets, pooling in your hand as you grind into her clit.
Ellie’s cute. You’ll give her that. So, you rub her harder.
“Agh, fuck, fuck— “
You're snickering to yourself but Ellie doesn’t care. She’s whining like a little bitch and humping you like a dog…
Does she top? You should ask her after this. Post-nut gay quiz.
“Finger me, put your— oh shit— “
“Hmm…” You suck your teeth, “Nah.”
She glares down at you, leaving fiery holes in your cheek, “Don’t f—fucking piss me off right now.”
You halt all your movements. “That’s all you’ve been doing since you got in this bitch. Shut the fuck up and take what I give you…” You pause, “Or get the fuck off me. Your choice.”
A full one-eighty, truly. How she goes from looking at you with intent to kill to a wounded puppy in seconds. Poor thing wants a treat. Your entire hand is drenched in her juices; She can wait a little longer.
“You ate my fucking Doritos.”
“W—What?” She sounds like she’s going to cry. You can’t stop smiling.
Slow circles on her clit, and her body wracks on top of you, “The ones I hid in the cabinet… Nasty little thief. Gonna buy me some more?”
Her breathing is so rapid, “You’re so s—stupid fuck— “
“You’re gonna do more than that… gonna show me what’s in that fucking portfolio like you promised.” You whisper, hot against her face.
This is the strangest dirty talk you’ve ever partaken in, but Ellie’s losing it on top of you. She hasn’t shut up yet. She’s hiding her face in your neck, words vibrating against your skin. You don’t know what she said, so you stop again. She sobs.
You sound sweeter than candy, “What was that?”
Ellie doesn’t answer. Just pants into your skin. You pat her clit a few times and she jerks to attention. “I asked you a question.”
“Feels,” She heaves, “Feels so fucking good— “
“I didn’t ask you that.”
“I’ll show you — fuck, okay? Okay, okay, m’so close— “
Your thumb brushes against her clit, “I wanna see it after you nut.”
She gasps words miles per minute, “I promise, Ipromise, touch me keep touching me— “
Ellie attempts to grind into your hand once more, but you stretch, slippery fingers sliding lower until the tip of your index catches onto her pulsing hole. You can barely hear, but she’s begging. Thank God you trimmed your nails.
You push in gently, Ellie’s teeth grazing the skin right underneath your ear. A shiver runs down your spine. She grins before biting down on it. You moan into the boiling air. Your finger gets swallowed by her walls; She’s so fucking tight and soft and she’s clenching with every moan, your thighs squeezing around her hips.
Ellie continues to grind on top of you, practically riding your finger, her moans increasing in volume.
“E-Ellie, look at me, sit up—“ She doesn’t hesitate, clammy forehead resting on yours as you stare into her glossy, lustful eyes. They’re fluttering with every deep grind of your arched digit and your heart skips a beat.
“Gimme one more, stretch me out,” she exhales onto your lips
“Sure?” You breathe.
She groans, “Yeah, fuck, m’gonna cum when you do— “
“You gotta cute face,” you whisper and giggle when her eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment, middle finger popping past the small entrance
“Fuck, babe, s’right there— “
Your walls clench at the name. Now you’re whining, “Gimme it. Hurry up so I can play with my kid.”
“O-Our fucking kid—“ She chokes.
You hum playfully, “Oddly domestic. Is this what marriage is like? Quickies in the laundry room when the baby’s watching Cocomelon?”
“No — fuck, do you ever shut the fuck up?” You can’t even move from hard her walls are choking you, “M’cumming, Jesus fucking— son of a— “
Ellie’s walls grip your fingers as she trembles on top of you, lips crashing onto yours as she groans in your mouth, and you smile. You should’ve spit on her tongue, but you held back. She’s not ready. Fucking gremlin.
Her orgasm rocks her into exhaustion, her body going completely limp on top of you as her hips twitch into your touch. You stare up at the ceiling, mind racing.
You technically didn’t fuck! Your pussy is quite convincing. You didn’t, but you want to!
“We didn’t fuck.” You mumble.
She huffs dryly, voice low. Here comes the goosebumps! “Sure.”
“We didn’t,” you bemoan and pull out, slick smearing on both your clothes before you present the wet digits in front of your face. Ellie finally lifts her head to join the inspection of your drenched, wrinkly fingers. She smells good.
“Go wash your hands,” she croaks.
“Mind your business.” You suck them clean and she snorts, rolling off and onto the bed. You sit up to open the door for Pick-Pick, but Ellie grabs your bicep.
“What?”
“You… You don’t want to…?”
You look around blankly.
“Do you want me to do something… like an exchange?”
You’re not sure how to answer, but thankfully, curious meows and light scratching distract the both of you. You’re moving like a robot into the living room, Ellie right on your tail, cooing at the baby who rubs all over her.
You take a seat on the… lavender-scented cushion. She bought a new freshener.
“Ellie.”
“What.”
“I don’t like you.”
A scoff from her, “I don’t care.”
You pause. “… Wanna sniff my punani?” You mock.
She takes a seat, swiftly followed by Pickle, and turns her head in your direction, lip between her teeth, “Can I?”
“What.”
“Just a whiff.” She hums between snickers. The sensors in your brain are on fire. Ellie is so confusing.
You scratch your ear, stealing her habit, “You… You want to?”
She grabs your discarded pen from the coffee table, “You want me to?”
Yes. “No.”
Ellie nods and continues to fiddle with it, obnoxiously clicking it over and over. She doesn’t fight you on it. How embarrassing. You really need head.
Your eyes meet your sock-covered feet, “… I was just kidding,” You mumble.
More pen clicking. “Come here for a second.” Your feet carry you at her grumble, plopping down onto the lavender-scented cushion. New freshener.
“Is this gonna be… a regular thing?”
Your head shakes a ton. It most definitely will not. You can’t take your eyes off how Ellie flips her pen. Her hands are bewitching. You need them in your throat again.
“I think we… just needed to get it out of our system?” You suggest. Unfortunately, it seems neither of you are convinced.
Pickle climbs up your sweatshirt, head rubbing against your chin. You peck her nose, “Why do you think that.” Ellie asks.
“I’m not fucking someone I live with.” Your words are blunt, but Ellie doesn’t seem shaken by them.
“Why.”
“Because.” You say with finality.
She sighs, “Because you’re scared of getting your feelings hurt by someone you care about again?”
The bomb she drops is unexpected, but causes even more damage. Your shoulders immediately tense, on guard, “What the fuck…” How did she…
Ellie winces, “Don’t uh… don’t be mad…”
“Why the fuck— how do you even know that?”
“Dina told me.” She blurts and you jump from your seat, glowering at the girl who sheepishly taps her fingers on the couch.
“The fuck do you mean Dina told you— “
More word-vomit. How long was she holding this shit from you? “S-She was my roommate. She’s the reason I got evicted— “
Your throat is closing, “…Is this a fucking joke?”
Ellie cowers at your tone, “Not really.”
“When the fuck were you going to tell me that you’re friends with my fucking ex?!”
“We’re not friends!” She says meekly. “And you weren’t official— “
“It doesn’t fucking matter, Ellie! What the fuck!” Your efforts of holding tears back fail, as usual. You’re sick of crying in front of this broad. “She fu—fucking ruined my life!” The stares you get will never fail to make you sick.
Ellie’s eyes remind you of glass. Breakable. You holler through sniffles, “Is that why you called me a fucking slut! Because that bitch told you some fake ass, fucked-up story about me whoring around campus?!”
“Dude, I’m— “
“I fucked over the sweetest fucking girl on campus, right? The world’s best fucking pitcher got her heart broken by some low-life fucking artist with no future!” You rant until your breath is short, “I was fucking in love with her! I-I wanted to be with her, I would’ve died for her! I’m— “
Your hands desperately grasp at your chest to get your heart to ease the knocking against your ribcage.
“You think I-I’m fucking easy, right? That’s why you came onto me earlier? ‘Cuz I’m a fucking whore?! A desperate sl—slut with no self-worth— “
The space you found comfort in is rapidly filling with darkness; You’re being sucked into a void of nothing and you can’t think. Ellie doesn’t move, just stares over you with feeble pupils, hand clutched around that pen, the end of it leaving an indent in her sweats.
Pickle plops down onto your feet as you cry. You take her into your arms and hold her as close as possible, scurrying into your room. You fall back against the door and it slams, sliding down the wood as Kit-Kat nuzzles your chin. She’s the sweetest fucking thing in the world. How could such an angel be left in the snow to die?
Time moves in a blur as you weep. Your mom would’ve held you if she were here.
What you would give for some parental guidance. You almost called your father.
Almost.
Click, click, click, click, click—
One, two, three, four. Breathe in, Breathe out. Five, six—
Thank God for your fucking custom pen. The noise is enough to distract her from breaking down in your tiny living room. She should’ve snagged Pickle before you did; She needs a fucking hug.
Ellie hates being yelled at. More than anything. More than you. God, she fucking despises you.
You look and sound nothing like her mother, but you’re oddly alike. She pondered whether or not that was the reason she was drawn to you; She always finds herself trapped in spaces with fucking deflectors.
She hasn’t even begun editing the photos from earlier. At this point, she doesn’t even want to use them. It’s a shame your eyes are so expressive; She would’ve burned the pictures she took of you the second you left with that bitch if she wasn’t so crunched for time. She needs to submit them so she can get the fuck out of here.
You’d be an excellent actress; You have emotions down pact on camera. The dark part of her brain convinced her that you were thinking of her with that doting, yearnful look in your eye.
The photography company keeps sending her emails about completing her work profile and her fucking portfolio submission. That’s the only form of motivation she has left, and even then, she hasn’t revisited those photos. She doesn’t have much time to make them perfect.
Ellie swallows the lump in her throat over and over, thumb pressing down, down, down. She can’t stop clicking your fucking pen. Just don’t cry.
Your sobs almost get her there, almost push her over the edge, but she shuts her eyes and counts each click, matching them with every heave she releases. You, somehow, sound just like her fucking mom.
And Ellie, despite the backwards relationship between the two of you, still fucking kissed you. She should’ve died right there in front of you. What a fucking joke.
But she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to. She’s never experienced affection like that; It was passionate and made her itch with a desire she hasn’t felt in a long time. All she wants is for someone to love her, hold her like you did, touch her like you did. She’s never felt that euphoric in her life, never witnessed so many bright colors at once.
Whoever told her being alone was easy was a fucking liar. No one should wake up and want to die every day, so why does she? Everyone thinks she prefers silence, but she doesn’t. Ellie craves contact in all forms. In any form. Desperately.
Why did it have to be you? Why the fuck did it have to be you.
Her brain is telling her she can’t wait to move out, so why is her heart amidst decay whenever she thinks about it? She’s going to suffocate in here, so she rises, pen still in hand, and snags her puffer and beanie from the couch. Her feet shove into her boots and she’s out, the front door slamming shut. She didn’t even bother to lock it.
Ellie takes the stairs and leaves the building on autopilot, no destination in mind. Just stomping through the splintering cold like a fucking yeti. Every breath oxidizes in a cloud before her as she recalls where she fumbled with you.
Dina.
Ellie’s cold hands frost her face as she wipes it, making sharp turns and stumbling on ice. She wants to go home; She misses her dad.
Dina seems to be the only thing you two have in common. You both might hate her more than each other. The horror she felt when her ex-roommate taped that eviction notice on her door is incomparable. Ellie was a struggling entrepreneur and practically fucking homeless overnight. All because Dina’s new fucking side piece.
Ellie and Dina, friends. Wait until she tells you about how she almost beat her and her girlfriend’s ass. If you’re even willing to listen at this point.
Ellie continues to walk, hands tucked under her armpits. At least she’s not simmering anymore in her rage anymore. She blocks down the way when she realizes she forgot her fucking phone. This would’ve been a perfect time to cry to her old man.
You’re not out of Ellie’s system at all. You’ve, unfortunately, claimed residency inside of her.
You’re scribbling with spilled wine on your shirt, outside noise muffled by the plugs in your ears. You don't recall leaving your room, grabbing a bottle and downing its contents, but the remnants of broken glass acts as a decent reminder.
Your hand is cramping from its grip on a new pen, but you can’t stop gliding the tip across the sixth sheet of printer paper. You hate what you’re drawing; The details are perfect, inked scratches practically muscle memory, and you despise it. It’s always her.
You’re going to be alone for a very long time. You’re too destructive for companionship, you’ve learned. How ironic: the one aspect of life you crave is becoming your demise, and your downfall is going to be tortuous. Recovery is never long lasting for you.
So, you sketch. And scratch. And erase, start again, hoping, praying, for an outcome that doesn’t feel so lost. You’re destroyed and desperate to find comfort. Was your father right when he called you sick at age twelve? Maybe something is truly wrong with you. Maybe one of the reasons why you constantly push and mask and hide.
Every insecurity you’ve garnered in high school is flourishing in adulthood, thick as vines and as strong as tree bark. Deflection is an art that you’ve mastered out of preservation; Too bad it’s trapped you in isolation.
The green in Ellie’s eyes holds stories. Somehow, this month feels like centuries. Centuries of studying the mass area of blossoming, healthy land beneath her pupils. Her eyes are sacred, almost too sacred to manipulate, but you draw them anyway.
You want to touch her again. You want her to touch you. Just one last time. You’re already a fucking failure; One last mistake wouldn’t hurt.
A teardrop musses the paper, so you scrap it like the others and start again. Ellie’s eyes are too pretty to be smudged.
You can’t stay here anymore. You hope Amaya understands. You hope Ellie understands.
You’d give anything to be able to call your mother.
You hear the front door open and close for the hundredth time tonight, followed by swift clicks of a pen. Guilt floods your system. You peer at a sleeping Pickle on your mattress before standing, opening your door to see Ellie entering hers. Your intoxicated brain notes the sex lighting in her room; Red LED. You talk before thinking.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you.” She jumps and turns at your cracked voice, eyes red. She smoked; you can smell it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— “
“I’m submitting my portfolio in the morning. I’ll be out by Christmas.” She says, monotone. Lifeless.
A dry huff escapes your closed throat. Your heart is breaking. Just a little, “I guess, uh… I can’t see it anymore, huh?” She doesn’t answer.
“Do you regret taking those pictures?” She mumbles.
You don't hesitate, “Not at all.”
She nods. The silence that follows is thick, weighing at both of your shoulders, holding you in place. Ellie’s breathing is finally steady, and it’s calming.
“Go to bed.” She whispers before entering her room, gently shutting it behind her. Some tears fall before you follow her lead.
Pickle is sitting on the edge of your bed, just watching you. You smile sadly and whisper, “At least you love me, right?”
A gentle blink from her. You sob; Another pair of green eyes to bring you comfort.
“I love you, too.”
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Your Baby’s Weird but Amusing Obsession
featuring bucky x wife!reader with their son
fandom mcu- tfatws era ?
a/n dont ask me why i just did - it was too cute not to writ. reader is lowkey my oc - am sorry. . . and btw - you can NOT unconvince me Bucky will not name his son after himself - personal headcanon you can not undo that for me - HE SO WANTS HIS JAMES JR XD
warnings just fluff. just before you read just know am dyslexic
You were playing mat with yours and Bucky’s 2-month baby boy as Bucky came in.
His son immediately looks up at Bucky and chortles a few giggles – seeing his dad and 2-month-old baby holds up his tiny arms at Bucky.
Bucky’s face brightens up when he sees them – and his bright blue eyes soften.
He walks forward and kneels on one knee next to the play mat and carefully picks him up and places him in his arms – before leaning back against the couch while the 3 of them sat on the play mat.
You smile – your heart melting at the exchange.
They had named their son James Steven Barnes, after Bucky’s first name of James and of course Steve, or Cap’s name for his middle name– but you took the liberty of nicknaming your son Jay – while you were at it.
You laugh as just as immediately Bucky had picked up their son, his toothless gums were instantly on Bucky’s vibranium arm.
Jay had a strange obsession with his dad’s metal arm – for some reason or the other he just loved it.
Bucky glances at you – but since you offered no assistance – his eyes then drift back to his son chewing on his arm, brow furrowed in contemplation.
Jay chortles a few giggles at his dad – his saliva dripping having left a slobbery grip on his dad’s arm. You couldn't help but throw you head back and laugh.
Bucky looks a tad bit annoyed and tries to pry the baby off his vibranium arm.
“That's not food, son. It’s metal.”
He says.
You couldn’t help but snicker at the sight.
Bucky sighed and tries to pry off his baby’s slobbery grip – giving you a little scowl.
“Jay, c’mere. Let daddy have his arm back.”
Bucky says – as he tried and cooed a little to Jay.
Jay only chortles a few giggles – his bright blue eyes looking up at his dad as if he as content in this manner.
You couldn't help but snicker again as Jay refused to let go – the kid was too strong.
This happened every time, Bucky picked him up.
“Give me my arm back, Jay.”
Bucky says – this time, his tone of voice was a little sterner – but low not wanting to scare his baby, of course.
The baby only giggles and chortles – but still doesn’t let go.
“You’re son’s so weird!"
You giggled – now finally leaning to help get your 2-month son’s toothless gums off your husband’s metal arm – but Jay continued to leave a slobbery grip on his dad’s vibranium arm.
Bucky chuckles – despite his annoyance.
“He got that from his mother.”
He teases.
He then reaches down and attempts to pry Jay off his metal arm again.
You raised an eyebrow taking your hands away.
“Do you want my help or not?”
You smirked.
Bucky shakes his head – smiling.
“No, I’ve got this.”
He then tries again to pry your son off his arm – but still fails.
“Ok!”
You shrugged leaning back to watch as your 2-month son continued to leave his slobbery grip his dad’s metal arm.
“Jay, c’mon. Give back daddy’s arm.”
Bucky asks – sounding a little frustrated now.
“Jay, be nice.”
Bucky says.
The baby still doesn’t let go of his dad’s arm.
“C’mon, Jay.”
He says - trying once again to pry him off.
After a minute – you amusedly shakes your head.
“Hey, my baby, come here!”
You cooed softly holding out your hands to your little son – as you puckered your lips to kiss his cheek as you gently picked up your 2-month baby off Bucky.
Bucky laughs – watching the scene, shaking his head as he wipes off Jay’s saliva off his metal arm with a tissue.
“So, the kid will give me a hard time but listen to you?”
He puts his arm on your shoulder.
You smirked.
“I’m the favorite!”
You say – blowing raspberry kisses on Jay’s cheek.
The baby giggles and blows raspberries back.
“Yeah, I guess you are. Can’t blame the kid, though. You’re pretty great.”
Bucky says – smiling at his wife.
Once again – he puts his arm on your shoulder, hugging you to his side.
You giggled and cooed your little 2-month baby.
“Mama’s the best!”
You say.
Your baby stares at you for a moment – then chortles and giggles, blowing more raspberries at you.
“See?”
You smirk – turning to your husband.
"Yeah, I get it.”
Bucky sighs, rolling his eyes and chuckles
Jay blows more raspberries at you – and you respond by blowing more raspberries at him.
Bucky laughs.
“You two are adorable.”
He says – watching his little family.
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Last Nice Guy in New York??
Part Two: Living with the Enemy
Prompt: YN is close friends with Peach, Annika, Beck, and Lynn. She doesn't fit into their circle, nor does she try to. Joe soon sets his sights on YOU, leading to a domino effect within Y/N's life.
Requested: YES | Requested are OPEN|
YN's POV
PEACHES grabbed my arm slightly; her eyes wandered over my face, and I thought I saw something in them other than narcissism and an inflated ego for a brief moment. They were soft, a look ventured across her features, and her touch was more delicate. “YN,” she calls out in a tone I barely recognized. She saw it.
I retorted, “Peaches, I have to get going. I have this thing to do for class. But I will see you tonight.” She reluctantly nodded, pushing her lips together in a frown. She turned away, returning to our group of friends. Beck stared apologetically for a moment before turning away with them. Some days, I didn’t feel a part of the friend group; I didn’t live the same life they lived, nor did I want to fake it like Beck does. I couldn’t buy expensive jewelry or spend every day at a high-end coffee shop wasting 15 dollars on coffee and a bagel. I worked on campus as a TA/Tutor, allowing me to qualify for financial aid/assisted living, and being a single parent also helped secure those benefits.
The wind caressed my skin, and the smell of gasoline and pastries filled my nose—the loud chatter of the busy streets surrounded me. I pushed open the solid oak doors, the smell of baby powder, formula, and paper. I was thankful that the Daycare Center was on the third floor, away from prying eyes and judgmental glares. I tapped my toe gently in the elevator as I watched the numbers dance from 1 to 2 and dinging at 3. Hand-painted pictures scattered the walls, bringing life to the dull ward of the campus. Hand turkeys and finger-printed flowers. Photos of children with their names along with their likes and dislikes. I was then greeted by Jessica, one of the students in the Teaching Program –she smiled widely at me as she stood up for a hug. Her arms wrapped around me, her fragrance engulfed as she tried masking the smell of throw-up and other fluids. “Hey YN! Long time no see.”
A responded with a bright smile, “I know you’ve been gone for some weeks. I think Rafi was starting to miss you too.” she laughed brightly with a toothy grin. She moves away from me, leaving me alone in the hallway. I move away from the receptionist's desk. I stare at the art, my finger dancing against the groves of the crayons and paint. I heard his soft babble; swiftly, I turned around and saw his bright, toothless smile.
“It’s mama! Look, it’s mama,” she cooed, pointing her finger toward me. I smiled, adjusting my bag and taking him into my arms, momentarily kissing the corner of his head. The anxiety flushing away as he was safe in my arms. “He hasn’t been around the last month from what I heard; keep doing what you’re doing,” she comforts me, her hand resting on my shoulder. I nodded frantically as I moved away from her.
The ride home was comforting; the soft sound of jazz filled my ears as the mild breeze ran through the enclosed back seat. Rafael slept peacefully in my lap, my fingers dancing against his ravenous locks. I despised that he looked like his father, from his button nose to the beauty marks that scattered his face and arms. He scrunched his face similarly to his father's when thinking or concentrating on a task. He wore a gold bracelet his mother gifted us when he was born. Says that all the men in their family must have one. I contemplated taking it off, but I never found the courage to.
“I’m thankful for him, you know — I am going to be a better father than my dad ever was.” He stared at him, his hand caressing his face, pressing gentle kisses on his skin. “You’re here,” he whispers, “Finally, here.”
“Ma’am, we’re here,” a voice cuts through my wandering mind. My eyes focused on the man in front of me. A sympathetic smile washed over his lips.
I mumbled out a thanks before exiting the cab. I pressed the fob to the door, yanking it open as I hurriedly moved in. “Hey, YN!” an excited voice shouts out from the top of the stairs. Her feet paddle against the floor as she peaks over the guard rail.
“Finally, you’re here! I have been calling out to you all evening!” she jumps in front of me as she smiles at Rafi. I move past her, fiddling my key in the keyhole as I push into the apartment. Her chocolate skin illuminated under the dim lighting in the apartment. Her hair pulled back into a slick ponytail that was loosened ever so slightly. “So, you have a date tonight?”
I laughed, tossing a look over my shoulder.
“Come on, I’m 18 — practically an adult!” she plops down on the couch, tucking her legs underneath as she looks at me with frustration and curiosity.
“It’s a party for a friend.” I laid Rafael down in the crib, moving all the blankets and toys I tossed in earlier this morning. “I don’t do dates, Nicole, we already spoke about this,”
She laughs, “You have a 7-month baby; you do more than date.”
I scoffed in her direction, letting a smile hang on my lips. She giggles at me before her eyes move back to her phone. Her fingers were rapidly typing before her attention turned back to mine. “How’s Rafael’s dad doing?”
I stiffened as I moved to the closet, changing out of my clothes. Pulling on a simple dress, emerging from the closet, I posed slightly. “Approval?”
“Absolutely not,” she laughs, “What kind of party– it doesn’t even matter. We need to get you laid!”
“I don’t need to get anything, I just wanna look nice.”
“You can look nice and edible,” she laughs, “How about a little more boobies and less leg? Something to keep their mind wandering but begging for more.” I pulled out, a periwinkle dress, with a bit of cleavage and less leg; I brushed my hands down my hair, moving them behind my ear.
“Ta-da?” I hummed out, her eyes brightening as she offered me an excited smile. “Yes, now go find Rafael a step-daddy!”
I roll my eyes, moving out of the apartment and waving her goodbye. She was a sweet girl, just graduated high school and looking for some work while she applied to universities. Her mom and dad are professors at Brown and thought it’d be a good idea to push her in the direction of teaching – in their words, “showing her responsibility through taking care of the lives of others. How the responsibility of molding a young mind can be beneficial.”
Arriving at Peach’s house was always distasteful, the high-brow society looking down at me, seeing me as the new charity case for her to pick at and display. I didn’t fit into their society, no matter how often Peaches and Annika tried. “Beckalicious,” I heard over the roar of the chatter; she was usually so easily seen and heard no matter where she stood.
“Is this Joseph?” her voice shrilled in disdain, her arm snaked around Beck with a feigned smile. I chuckled at her momentarily, before returning my attention to the trays of wine that moved about.
“YN,” I heard a voice call out, a hand snaking around my waist and pulling me closer. I froze; the smell of champagne and cheese filled my nose. “I was hoping to run into you! I missed you!” I spun around seeing Liam Hastings; his hair pulled out his face as he wore a chestnut brown jacket with a navy blue button shirt, his chest slightly showing as he flashed me a smile.
“It’s like after you broke up Rafael, you just fell off the face of the earth!” he shouts, his hand slapping against my shoulder as he swallows a nod.
“Just wasn’t the crowd I wanted to be around,” I whispered; he tugged me closer. I clenched my hands, letting this reach his chest, trying to pry us apart. I could feel the air leaving me; my chest got tighter with every breath I took.
“He looks for you, says— you know what he says to me. Keep an eye on you!” he drunkenly laughs; I yank myself away. I found myself, darting up the stairs and escaping to Peaches’s library.
“I’m pregnant,” I cry out. Peach sank to her knees, her hand snatching at my wrist; she examined them momentarily. “I don’t want to have his baby! It was one night and I– I”
“Calm down, little dove, please. It hurts me to see you cry,” she whispers. I flinched away from her as she tried wiping the tears away. Realizing washes over her, her face turns cold as she studies me. “YN”
She called out my name; I didn’t have an answer, nor did I want to answer. “Y/N, Hello!”
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a soft voice called, “Hello.” I spun around. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, I'm sorry. I’m in my little world,” I chuckle, moving my hair behind my ear. I studied how his face was tightly wound together, his shoulder tense, and his brows furrowed with frustration and thought. I recognized him, the infamous Joe Goldberg that Beck had mentioned. “Joseph, right?”
He shakes his head, “Joe, just Joe.” he forces a smile on his lips. His eyes wandered to the bookshelf before back at me.
“Well, Just Joe, I’m YN; I wish I could say we would meet under better circumstances, but–” I laughed momentarily, letting my head fall to my feet. “This is probably the best you’ll get.” He chuckles; it was lighthearted– it filled the air so gently.
“Y/N…?” my name played on his lips. He repeated it a couple of times before silencing. “You’re one of Peaches's friends.”
“Don’t let her catch you saying that,” I laugh. “If she catches you humanizing her too much, she’ll lose her shit. She’s a cold-hearted bitch, but I love that about her.”
“Isn’t she your best friend?” He teased; for a moment, I thought, honest to God, she was everything I needed her to be. She was a cold and calculated bitch, but it didn’t change the fact that when she looked at me, I mean really looked at me… she saw me. Maybe that wasn't such a good thing.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I belong in her world,” I whispered. I begin to move past him; his hand grabs my upper arm. His touch was gentle and inviting. His thumb gently caressed my exposed skin, his eyes resting on my shoulder, and my breath caught in my throat. The noise drowned out, the soft hum of the music, the clanking of glasses, and the chatter of drunken adults. The expectations to be perfect melted away. The world slowly sunk around me. Our eyes finally met.
Carefully, I whispered to him. “Enjoy the party, just Joe.” His grip loosened as the noise around us resumed. I was warped back into the party.
Peaches watched me, her eyes dark and cold. Her hand yanked at my arm as she dragged me closer to her. A dark smile washed on her face. “I saw that.”
“Peaches, let it go,” I whispered; she yanked me closer to her. She scoffs lightly. "It was nothing."
“Stealing Beck’s boyfriend too.” Her words slurred slightly, her tongue tripping over the slight syllabus. Her eyes were red and hanging low; she took pills. “Do you realize how pathetic you look?” I stiffened, holding my head away from her.
“Peach, leave it!” I whisper, my voice weakly danced away in the wind.
“Just like how you stole Sophia’s boyfriend, you steal Becks lowly boy toy?” her voice growing louder, capturing everyone’s attention. Eyes shift, and the music decreases with each word that Peach spews. “Do you realize how you look? I am just trying to protect you!”
“Peach, please,” I begged.
“It’s like you’re trying to win a game that no one else is playing – what getting fucked once at my house isn’t enough?” Silenced washed over us; my throat stung as I watched her. My lips parted as I tried to find the words to combat her statement, to find something to make this seem like banter. My face grew hot, and all I could do was stare at her, tears falling against my cheeks freely and tickling my chin and chest. “YN-” she begins to stutter, her face contorting gently.
“I have to go, Peach,” I whispered, ducking past her as I moved past the crowd. The fresh air slammed against my face, and I sucked in gently, trying to gather as much composure as possible.
Fuck me and fuck her.
#joe goldberg x reader#joe goldberg imagines#joe goldberg#joe goldberg x you#joe goldberg imagine#You Imagines#You Imagine#penn badgley imagine#penn badgley#penn badgley imagines#imagines#imagine#requests are open
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Hii babes could you do Logan x reader and it’s his first Father’s Day or Oscar if your comfortable with it thanksss
The sound of engines roared in the distance, blending with the cheers of the crowd that filled the Formula 1 paddock. It was a scorching day in July, and the world's fastest drivers were preparing for another thrilling race weekend. Amongst the bustling chaos, Y/N Sargeant, wife of renowned F1 driver Logan Sargeant, navigated through the lively atmosphere with their adorable son, Parker, cradled in her arms.
As they walked toward Logan's team garage, Y/N couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. It was Parker's first time attending a Grand Prix, and it happened to coincide with Logan's first Father's Day. The couple had been looking forward to this day for months, eager to share their passion for racing with their son.
Amidst the hustle and bustle of the grid, Y/N held Parker in her arms, gently rocking him back and forth. "Are you ready for your first race, Parker? Daddy's going to be amazing out there," she cooed in German, her voice filled with love.
Logan approached them, his race suit zipped up, and a proud smile on his face. He wrapped his arms around Y/N and Parker, kissing their foreheads. "Guten Morgen, meine Lieben," he greeted them, his voice filled with warmth. "Are you excited, Parker? We're going to have so much fun today."
Parker, with his chubby cheeks and bright blue eyes, gurgled in response, his tiny fingers reaching out to grab at the colorful lanyard around Y/N's neck, which held their paddock passes.
Logan, clad in his racing suit, approached them with a beaming smile. His eyes lit up when he saw his wife and son, and he eagerly scooped Parker into his arms.
"Hey there my champion" Logan greeted his son "Ready to cheer Daddy on today?"
Parker responded with a toothless grin, seemingly sensing the excitement that surrounded him.
Y/N leaned in and pressed a kiss to Logan's cheek. "Happy Father's Day, Liebster. You're an incredible dad, and I'm so proud of you."
Logan's face softened as he held his family close. "Thank you, princess. I couldn't ask for a better gift than you and Parker"
Their tender moment was interrupted by the arrival of other F1 drivers and their families. Charles Leclerc approached with his girlfriend Emma and his son Marco, in his arms. He grinned at Logan and Y/N.
"Happy Father's Day, Logan!" Charles exclaimed, extending a hand to Logan while Marco curiously observed Parker. “It's a special feeling, isn't it? Seeing your little one grow up in this world of racing"
Logan nodded, his eyes shining with pride, Logan shook Charles' hand warmly. “Happy Father's Day to you too. How's Marco doing? And absolutely, it's a whole new level of joy and responsibility. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."
"Parker is excited to be here today," she said, glancing over at their son who was squirming in her arms. "It's his first time attending a Grand Prix"
As if on cue, Parker giggled, his tiny hands reaching out towards the colorful F1 cars lining the grid
"Look, Marco, this is your new friend Parker!" Emma exclaimed, smiling warmly.
"He's growing up so fast," Charles replied, his voice tinged with awe. "But I suppose that's what happens when you're born into this racing world"
Y/N nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I can't believe how quickly Parker is growing too. It feels like just yesterday we brought him home"
Daniel Ricciardo joined the conversation, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "So, mate, how does it feel to have a mini-you cheering you on from the grandstands?"
Logan's gaze softened as he looked at his son. "It's indescribable, Dan. Seeing him here, witnessing his first Grand Prix, it means the world to me. I can't wait for him to grow up surrounded by this incredible sport"
Parker wriggled in Logan's arms, reaching out to touch Marco's face. The two babies giggled, their laughter filling the air as their fathers exchanged stories and advice.
Y/N gently placed him on the ground, and he wobbled his way towards the other drivers' children who were playing nearby.
Max Verstappen's son Noah, Marco and Parker were already engrossed in painting the paddock with colored chalks. Parker’s laughter blending with the cheerful voices of the little ones. Meanwhile, Y/N and Logan watched, beaming with pride.
Max Verstappen's daughter, Sofia, giggled as Parker tried to catch up to her. The two children toddled hand in hand, their laughter contagious.
"Looks like we have future racers on our hands," Max said with a grin, watching the two children.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Y/N replied
"I think our little racer is making friends," Y/N said, her eyes never leaving Parker
"Logan, do you remember when Parker tried to imitate your victory celebration?" Max Verstappen chuckled, recalling a recent race weekend. "He's already a natural-born racer"
YN grinned, watching as Parker clumsily attempted to mimic his father's podium jump. "He definitely takes after his father. I have a feeling we'll be seeing him on the track in the future"
Logan's heart swelled with pride, his gaze alternating between YN and their son. "Maybe one day, he'll even surpass me"
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice. "Logan! Y/N!" It was Lando Norris, his own son, Oliver, perched on his shoulders.
"Hey, Lando!" Logan greeted with a grin. "Happy Father's Day, mate"
Lando grinned back. "Thanks, mate. Looks like our kids are having a blast together" Lando was accompanied by his girlfriend, and together they admired Parker with adoration.
"Thanks, Lando!" Logan grinned. "By the way, congratulations for the last race. You're on fire this season!"
Lando shrugged modestly. "Just doing my best” he was saying before being interrupted by Oliver as he was chasing after Parker, their laughter echoing through the paddock, and he and his girlfriend, Lauren, laughed at their son's antics.
"Y/N, how are you finding motherhood?" Kika, Pierre Gasly's partner, asked with a smile
"It's an incredible journey," Y/N replied, her voice filled with warmth. "Watching Parker grow and discover new things every day is a blessing"
As Y/N they exchanged pleasantries, the other drivers and their families joined the growing circle of camaraderie. Sergio Perez's sons Carlota, Sergio and Emilio, toddled around with a mischievous glint in his eyes, followed closely by Daniel Ricciardo's son, Leo.
She noticed Lewis Hamilton with his own bundle of joy, Amelia, and approached him.
"Good afternoon, Lewis. How is Amelia doing?" YN inquired, her voice filled with warmth.
Lewis grinned, holding his daughter close. "She's doing great, thanks. Can't believe how quickly time flies. Before I know it, she'll be asking for her own racing car!"
"Happy Father's Day, Logan! And Y/N, little Parker is growing so quickly. He's going to be a force to be reckoned with, just like his dad."
Y/N chuckled, gently bouncing Parker. "Thank you, Lewis. We're excited to see what the future holds for our little racer."
It was a scene filled with laughter and joy—a glimpse into the future of the F1 paddock.
The warm camaraderie continued as more drivers stopped by to offer their well wishes. Yuki Tsunoda playfully ruffled Parker's hair, while Daniel Ricciardo shared a humorous anecdote about his first Father's Day.
As the time for the race drew near, Y/N and Logan exchanged a meaningful look. They both knew how much this day meant to them—a celebration of their love, family, and the shared passion that brought them together.
"Let's make this a day to remember, Liebster," Y/N whispered, her eyes shining with anticipation.
Logan tightened his grip on Parker, his heart full of love and determination. "Absolutely, sweetheart. Today, we race for more than just victory."
With their spirits lifted by the support of their F1 family, Logan and Y/N walked hand in hand toward the pit lane. As the cars thundered past, leaving behind a symphony of speed and power, Logan revved his engine, ready to give it his all on the track.
For Logan, Y/N, and little Parker, this would forever be remembered as the day their racing hearts beat as one—a testament to the strength of their love, their devotion as parents, and the unbreakable bond that tied them together.
With renewed determination, Logan kissed Y/N's forehead before heading towards the briefing room. The race weekend had become an extraordinary blend of joy, love, and the thrill of competition
Later, as the engines roared on the grid, Y/N, holding Parker in her arms, joined the other F1 families in the spectator area. Logan's car lined up on the grid, the anticipation palpable. Y/N whispered to Parker, who stared wide-eyed at the colorful spectacle before him.
"Parker, mein kleiner Champion, look at Daddy go. He's going to show everyone what he's made of."
As the lights went out and the race began, Y/N's heart swelled with pride for her husband and the father of her child. The adrenaline rushed through her veins, mirroring the intense energy on the track.
Parker, sensing his mother's excitement, clapped his hands and babbled happily, the echoes of his laughter blending with the roar of the engines.
Hours flew by, and as Logan crossed the finish line in a respectable position, the crowd erupted with applause. Y/N, carrying Parker on her hip, joined the cheering, her voice ringing with pride.
"You did it, Logan! Happy Father's Day!" she exclaimed, her words mingling with the cheers of the crowd.
The F1 families gathered once again, celebrating the successful race and Father's Day. As they shared stories and laughter, the children played together, their young spirits echoing the joy and unity of their parents.
"I couldn't have asked for a more perfect day," Y/N whispered, leaning into Logan's embrace.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. "Neither could I, love, this is what racing is all about. Family, friendship, and the love that keeps us going."
When the paddock quieted down, the Sargeant family made their way back to their motorhome. Logan cradled Parker in his arms, gazing down at his son's peaceful face.
“My little man," Logan whispered, his voice full of tenderness. "One day, you'll know how much joy and purpose you bring to my life. I'll always be there for you"
"Parker is lucky to have you as his mom," Logan whispered, his voice full of adoration.
Y/N smiled, feeling a surge of love for her husband. "And he's lucky to have you as his dad, Logan. Happy Father's Day."
Logan's eyes shimmered with emotion as he held Y/N's gaze. "Happy Father's Day, Y/N. I couldn't imagine a better partner and mother for our son."
In that moment, as Logan sped away, adrenaline surging through his veins, he couldn't help but feel grateful—for the privilege of being a father, for the support of his teammates and fellow drivers, and for the incredible woman and son waiting for him in the pits.
Together, they embarked on a race not just to the checkered flag but to a future filled with love, happiness, and the indomitable spirit of the racing world.
#logan sargeant imagine#f1 imagine#f1 drivers x reader#logan sargeant x reader#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#logan sargeant fic#logan sargeant
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FOOL'S GOLD - 「 CH.1 」 BOAT ON THE WATER
࿈ PAIRING: jake sully x reader
࿈ WARNING/TAG(S): pining, fluff, mentions of death, soft! jake [ lmk if i missed anything! ♡ ]
࿈ SUMMARY: this chapter briefly shows reader's dynamic with the sully kids and mostly jake's thoughts about her
࿈ NOTE: enjoy! don't be shy to send in asks if you have any questions regarding the fic! also please check out the na'vi words below that are used in this chapter for reference ↶↶
sa'nok = mother // paywll = dapophet // yerik = hexapede
࿈ NEXT CHAPTER ▷ MASTERLIST
You came like a hurricane, knocking Jake off his feet, making his knees weak and tearing him away from what he knew was solitude. He was no longer a lone boat in the middle of the sea, you're there with him— stirring up the waters and rocking his stronghold: a wall he's built to protect his heart from the ache that leaves a part of him chipped and broken.
How do you ever forget love like that? He found himself asking in his mind all too often before you, mostly when he's alone and it's just his late mate's memory that accompanies him. Now, all his thoughts are about you, flooding every nook and cranny of his mind, festering even in his feelings to the point he doesn't know what to do with himself. It is pathetic. He is pathetic for hanging on every single word you say and the little things you do like he's the young, playful and naive version of himself once again.
Initially, falling in love with you was out of the question. He was still grieving for his mate, the hurt still fresh in his memory but you were a hurricane— unpredictable and commanding without trying. He's sure that even the toughest of men would crumble when they behold you, when they see you. It was so easy to adore you but so hard to love you. Easy when you tuck his youngest to bed with a song, easy when you dote on Lo'ak despite the boy's tendencies of getting into trouble, easy when you boast about Neteyam to the other women among the clan, easy when you're the presence Kiri looks for when she's in doubt. Yet when it comes to him, you always close the door every time he tries to occupy even the littlest bit of space in your heart and mind, you snuff the fire in his resolve— it's so hard to love you because you never give him the chance to.
"Sa'nok, what is this flower for?" Innocent Tuk looks at you, head tilted to the side in pure curiosity, holding up a paywll in her small hand. She's sitting beside you on the mat, tinkering and inspecting every plant you've laid out across the drugget.
You smile at her eagerness to learn, bringing up a gentle hand to pat her head before answering, "That's a paywll, dear. It can help to soothe the skin if burned and—"
"And help speed up the healing process of a wound!" The little girl proudly intercepts, eyes bright upon remembering the plant's purpose: something she's learned from you.
You can't help but laugh, nodding your head in affirmation. "That's right!"
"Are you trying to be your ma's new apprentice?" Jake's voice fills your ears, light and teasing as he strides in towards yours and Tuk's place on the mat.
You don't know when it happened or how— you've gotten used to Tuk calling you mother despite not being her biological one, and somehow it fills your devoid heart with warmth every time you hear it from her, but when Jake addresses you as the mother of his children, that strange feeling bubbles up inside you so uncomfortably it makes you want to hide from him and from everything.
"I want to be like mama someday!" Tuktirey claims, a toothless grin present on her face.
Your eyes dart to Jake's face, gauging his facial expression like you always do when you think you're getting too close and diving in too deep— you never want to disrespect his late mate. Neytiri was a fearless woman, she made a name for herself and proved to be an amazing person through and through. But you don't see any trace of discomfort on the Olo'eyktan's face, there's nothing there but an adoring smile towards his daughter and a pensive glint in his eyes. "Yeah? Sa'nok's amazing, isn't she?"
Whether he meant you or Neytiri, you don't muse on it much. Under circumstances such as yours, things like that didn't matter.
"How did the hunt go?" You ask Jake without looking at him and despite that, you know his eyes are on you, watching your every move like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your skin, burning hot and always inquisitive like he wants to know something but never has the courage to ask.
"It went well. Näfol took down one of the biggest yerik in today's hunt." He tells you, the name of your younger brother falling past his lips so proudly it's like he's speaking of him like he was his blood relative.
Näfol has always been timid, often keeping to himself which only worsened when your parents died in battle, fighting valiantly against those wretched humans. It feels like yesterday when you were in your own village, your mother and father at your side and leading your people to enlightenment in Eywa's embrace.
"That's great." The elation in you is evident in the way you hum with a small smile, happy at the prospect of having your brother warm up to the Omaticaya people, especially their Olo'eyktan.
"Dad, I want to go outside." Tuk's voice rips you out of your thoughts and you look over at the duo sitting on your side, Tuk with her hand grasping her father's arm in a seemingly cute display of persuasion.
The sight makes you giggle a little before you turn away quickly, not wanting to invade the father and daughter's moment. You miss the way Jake's smile broadens at the sound of your laugh, hearing it in pleasant twinkling bells as he allows his daughter to take off to play with her siblings outside.
Sleep has become a challenging task now, never knowing peace anymore when the constant fear of those demons returning gnaws at your sanity, but Jake makes it less of a burden when he holds you close to his chest as if you're dear to him, anchoring you back to reality in his arms, dwarfing your much smaller figure in his warmth.
"You're fine, darling. I'm here." He whispers against the skin of your forehead where he had pressed a kiss on just moments prior. His voice is groggy, a clear sign of exhaustion but just like always, he never lets you stay up all night alone, never leaves you to your own thoughts when it's most destructive.
You told him countless times— even before you consummated and made the sacred bond, that he didn't have to coddle you yet your words just seem to enter one of his ears and out the other because every night, he's always there waiting for when you come apart at the seams, showing him all your vulnerabilities.
"Jake, go back to sle—"
"I will in a moment. Just let me love on you." His arms around your waist tighten, his nose burying on top of your head, and you let him. Just like you always do because you're a hurricane: unyielding and formidable, but try as you might to dishearten a ferryman on a mission, you're but a storm that will pass— the turmoil in you will calm, maybe not so soon, but it will. Jake knows. He believes so.
꒰꒰. TAGLIST: @lin0leum @iwanttohitmyself @pullandhug @erenjaegerwifee @demablog @promiseofeywa @jake-sullys-whore @neteyamforlife @violetperiwinkle @squidalapobre @avatar3eva // comment send an ask if you wish to be added!
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work of emissaire, 2023 - plagiarism is a crime
#📚 emissaire: fool's gold#livre: daisy#avatar#atwow angst#atwow x reader#avatar angst#avatar fluff#jake sully x reader#jake sully fluff#jake sully angst#jake sully x y/n#jake sully x you#avatar x reader
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hello! i have a request for 'SbITILYP', if you don't mind.
how about the reader trying to do something for hiccup to impress him/show him that she likes him? hiccup has been doing a lot of things for the reader so I think it'd be cute seeing the reader awkwardly attempt to do the same :)
Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 28
Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader
Words: 1110
Things come to a simple end.
Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, final part, half-fill
<Previous - First>
“I’m surprised it went this smooth,” Stoick grumbled, voice hollow with distance, “With Alvin-... I’d expect something from Hiccup, at least. That boy…”
“He’s ‘Too busy, eh?” Gobber asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, grunting and hopping as he did it, reattaching his prosthetic to his leg nub, “Prolly been off mackin’ on tha’ girlfriend o’ his.”
Right… Alvin.
“Ah,” Hiccup was flushed, rubbing his neck and brushing against already messy hair, “Yeah, I forgot about that…”
Toothless was around somewhere.
He glanced to the side, where you stood, equally embarrassed and mussed, shoulders hunched slightly, very red in the face.
You shifted in your skirts, resisting the urge to use your boot to scratch at the back of your thigh, which had been itchy for a little while, since you brushed up against some plant walking back from the forest.
You were just around the corner from Hiccup’s Dad -a bright and heavily painted corner; turns out his whole ‘painting the houses’ thing caught on, which meant a lot less of things burning down- though he wasn’t sure if you’d heard.
All the talk of criminal executions was depressing, though you missed it, lost in the puppy-love haze phase of your new relationship. Still, it was kind of a bummer. It was for the best that Alvin was gone, though. Less danger in that for you too -not just the riders or Stoick or anything else.
You hoped it didn’t bum Hiccup out too bad. You noticed it had been getting him down, and you’d done your best.
Your fingers curled together, hooked securely and delicately to his by the fingerpads, and you and Hiccup stood close enough that you could feel his body heat through his tunic though not yet enough for the two of you to be touching by the arm.
You’d just gotten back from a successful trip to the glowing algae pool.
His vest was slightly displaced and you were both sure he’d lost a bead or two.
In one hand you held the little Fireworm, wrapped in a carefully made chainmail blanket -it was hard to come up with something that wouldn’t pinch skin or scales- also wrapped in a layer of leather so that you could hold it comfortably.
It squirmed slightly.
He scuffed his prosthetic slightly, recently oiled, recently reforged with treads beaten into the bottom, which did a lot to help with gripping wet wood while you were walking hand-in-hand around Berk.
You wore a red tunic -his, really, he’d lent it to you again after you’d gotten some muck on yours- and a string of your own beads on leather cord tied around your neck, something Hiccup had picked nonchalantly from the forge and used to help make you a necklace.
He’d tried to make you a bead once, but he wasn’t much of an artisan.
“I mean, me too,” You huffed, feather swaying as you shifted, attached to a stick like a pom-pom on one end of a cat toy, “We’ve been busy with other things, though- Not like what Gobber said- I mean, you know…”
Hiccup nodded, though he was still looking forward. This was all still super new for the both of you.
It would feel that way for a while.
You were still in disbelief- it was a wonder to you why he and Astrid didn’t pair up before.
He traced the collar of his scarf slightly as Sharpshot lolled lazily by your feet, slightly wet and glow-ey by his lower half whenever he teased the shade with his tail.
You knew Hiccup was bummed Devastated that the Screaming Death had destroyed all his hard work -a good deal of the things he’d built up in the village for you, though with some hard work and dirt pushed under your fingernails it had been fixed up pretty easy.
He seemed happier now. It hadn’t really been something you’d planned but you’d distracted him somewhat- your relationship was still very, very new, still.
And you made him a gift.
You’d tried crafting again. It was very scratchy and you’d definitely not done a very good job making sure the whole thing was even but it was a nice fading rainbow, the yarn dyed in all the colors in Roy G. Biv in darker, neutral tones.
“Looks like you fixed things right up, ‘Dragon Master,’” You stuck out your tongue at him, looking smug.
It -the scarf- covered the bottom of Hiccup’s chin. It didn’t really fit him but he wore it with pride, which made something flutter around in your guts in a way that was almost uncomfortable.
You predicted it would be around a week before he took it off.
Hiccup had unintentionally returned the favor. You got a satchel from him, small and attached to a belt with norse knots imprinted around the edges, sown neatly together. It was sort of like a fanny pack but with more buckles and also cool.
“Did you really have to use that?” Hiccup said, leaning his head towards you momentarily.
Sharpshot churr-ed in the squawky squeaky way only a terror could, blinking up at the feather attached to your hip as you adjusted your hand in Hiccup’s.
The small Fireworm in your other hand blinked beadily as it sometimes very rarely did.
“It is tacky,” You admitted, though that was definitely why you used it, “But you did a good enough job to deserve it, not that you have to do anything to deserve things.”
You gently bumped into him with your hip.
And he did a great job. Berk was back to how it was just before the Screaming Death -most of the roses ended up being fine, and the plants that were lost were easily replaced and reinforced by spiked metal fences and wooden pikes.
You’d also added a few new planters. Many of the houses stationed under ramps were popular real estate now for metal tins for glowing mushroom growing, which you knew there many new homeowners were proud of, not just because of the fact that it made them a lot of money.
The mushrooms were great for paint making and the extra roofing kept dragons from jumping over houses and messing with tiling.
It was heavy maintenance, but they were all Vikings. For a modern girl like you, you found it was all worth it, if not just for the convenience.
Living on Berk was rough, but it was good and different now. Even with all the Outcasts and the dragons and the hunters and everything else missing.
And you were happy.
And maybe Hiccup’s crush hadn’t ended up being so onesided after all.
#httyd#how to train your dragon#x reader#fanfiction#hiccup haddock#httyd imagine#hiccup x reader#fem reader#female reader#toothless
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Smelting talks (if they actually talked)
Hiccup Haddock x male reader
word count: 2.1k
warnings: none
summary: Hiccup has a crush on you, the forger, and goes over to talk but can't seem to get past a greeting. Astrid decides to help him at least say more than three words.
Hiccup Haddock III, who, for as long as you could remember, had never had too much interest in forging. Nothing above the logistics. Just enough that he could make his own items, like the prosthetic Toothless wore. But ever since you had been taken under Gobber’s wing as his apprentice, Hiccup somehow managed to stop by every day.
Sometimes he claimed it was since he was chief and needed to make sure everything was going smoothly while other times he put in requests. Most of them were simple, like a dragon saddle or a new bolt for one of the ships but occasionally he’d ask for weapons and help with gathering forging materials.
The Smithy was almost painfully hot, with the blistering Berk heat, your sheepskin-clad outfit, and the fact that one of the dragons lit the grass on fire nearby, you were sure you were going to pass out. You swung down the hammer on the hissing red metal and felt the vibrations as it bent into the shape you hit it in. It was quickly turning a silver color, though, so with every third or so hit you had to stick it back in the coal pit.
“Working hard, eh?” Hiccup laughed as he poked his head inside the customer window. You looked over at him and nodded, barely able to wipe the sweat bedding on your forehead before the metal turned the same dangerous red as it had just moments before.
“And sweating like a pig, I tell ya!” Gobber smacked your back as you transferred the metal back to the metal table. “Snotlout broke his helmet and needs one before the race, (Y/n) here said he’d get it down by sundown the day after next,” By the tone of his voice you could tell Gobber thought you were in over your head.
“He has a big head, it’s easy,” You muttered with a wack of your mallet. “See? Almost done, ain’t he a pretty thing?” You turned to look at Hiccup as his eyes darted down from you to the almost complete helmet.
“You mean she,” Gobber grabbed a thick strip of metal and tossed it down in front of you.
“She’s for the woman-loving folk,” Taking a pair of tongs from the workstation, you picked up the metal and made your way to the fire pit. “And while they are very pretty, I prefer the men,”
With your back turned to Hiccup you couldn’t see the way his cheeks flared a bright red, how his eyes went wide and mouth agape. He looked over at Gobber who was laughing, muttering something about a past crush you had. From a book or something, Hiccup didn’t care. He was too busy replaying what you had said.
The more it processed the more red Hiccup got, it was so bad that when you turned around you thought the fire had been so hot as to make him look as if he had just stood in front of it for a little while.
“Are you okay, Hiccup?” You bit your glove off and pressed the back of your hand to his forehead. “Ah, my hands warm. No use,” You laughed and put it back on. “Why don’t you go and get some cooler air. You’re burning more than the coal,” He nodded and walked away as you went back to working on the helmet.
“Astrid!” Hiccup shouted as he raced over to her as she was about to mount her dragon. “Astrid— guess what!” He panted, holding onto the dragon's scales for support.
“If it’s about (Y/n) again,” She warned with a half-serious glare. She had listened to him talk about you since they became friends. Even more so when they became fake lovers. It was painful, honestly, she couldn’t believe how fast Hiccup could talk about something other than dragons.
“It is—“ Astrid turned from him and went to tell Stormfly to take off. “But- but this is good news. I promise! He’s into guys, too!” Almost as if Astrid had forgotten about the countless nights she spent tossing pillows and threatening Hiccup to shut up about his stupid crush, she jumped off of Stormfly and landed in front of Hiccup.
“Tell me everything,” She demanded, although it wasn’t necessary since Hiccup was already fixing to tell her an exact recall of what had happened just minutes ago. But he might have gone into too much detail as Astrid shoved his face away before she gripped his shoulders. “Shorten it— nothing about how the sweat rolled down. I don’t care about that!”
“Okay… okay. So, he was working on a helmet for Snotlout and—“
—
The following morning, after you had stayed up throughout the night to finish the helmet, you put the final details on the helmet. All that was left was to cast it in dragon's spit. Something Snotlout swore gave his helmet an extra boost of strength. He even got the rest of the island to believe it so it came as a standard practice.
Also, one that meant you had to collect dragon spit at least three times a week and no amount of pay were worth it.
You settled yourself on a patch of still-living grass and set the bucket of spit next to you before grabbing the contents of your bag from your side. Inside was an apron to keep spit from going on you, two brushes, and the helmet.
“So… (Y/n),” Astrid plopped herself down next to you. “Are you busy?” You dipped the horsehair brush into the spit and turned to her.
“How busy is covering a helmet in dragon spit?” You joked and slapped the brush on the inside of the helmet before gagging. “It smells so bad,” Smearing the inside, you saw Astrid get closer to the bucket before she quickly covered her nose.
“Seems…” She scooted away from the bucket. “Fun.”
“But, nope. Not busy,” Situation the helmet between your legs, you heard Astrid hum and then grumble something. But before you could get a chance to look at her, she tossed her arm over your shoulder.
“Are you into anyone? Snotlout or… Hiccup?”
“Definitely not Snotlout,” Jutting her away with the brush, you dipped it back into the bucket.
“And Hiccup?” She trailed off. You glanced over and shrugged before dropping your hands to your side, allowing the brush to slide down inside the helmet.
“He’s good-looking. But we haven’t had an actual conversation yet. He always runs off,” You explained, looking up at the clouds with a squint. “We used to be close, as kids. But then… I don’t know. We drifted apart? Maybe, he just stopped talking to me,”
“Really?” She perked up and you nodded through a tight-lipped smile and closed eyes.
“He… I knew I liked boys when I was around him. Maybe that’s why like he knew something. I don’t know, I never asked. I got over it by the time he found Toothless but—“
“It’s come back?” She finished. You sat up and angrily picked up the paintbrush.
“It’s stupid! Because I’m always working and I’m trying to not look at him and when he’s over I want to talk to him but— but—“ You groaned and slapped the brush on the outside of the helmet before reeling back as spit flew up. “He runs away and can’t keep a conversation! Just talk, y’know what I mean?”
“Maybe he’s shy…” She wiped the spit from the side of her face and rubbed it on the grass. “He could… feel the same way or… maybe he’s sorry about ignoring you,”
“Maybe,” With the helmet casted, you laid it on your apron and let it dry in the grass. “But until then—“ You turned to Astrid and smiled. “I’ll be working on my commissions,”
If there was one thing Astrid had learned from that conversation was that her best friend was utterly and completely stupid. She knew before, of course, the dude had managed to convince an entire dragon-hunting island to love dragons and that took a certain level of stupidity to even think of. But now— now that after years of hearing his wallow and pine just to hear he potentially ruined any chances he had before he even hit puberty was beyond her.
She stormed into his home, nearly scaring Toothless into blasting her and startling the baby dragons he had in his care since the nursery was being repaired.
“Hiccup Haddock the third!” She shouted and slammed the door shut. “Get down here or so Odin help you—“ Before she could finish her sentence she heard the clattering of items from the second floor before Hiccup came jumping down. He was struggling to put his leg on, and nearly tripped going down the stairs.
“What— What happened?” He looked around, panicked and frantic.
“You happened!” She stabbed her finger at his chest. “I just have a very insightful conversation with (Y/n) and guess what he told me,”
“What?”
—
Believe it or not, even after Astrid yelled and threw pillows at him, Hiccup still couldn’t bring himself to say more than three words before he cowered away. He tried every day, he managed more and more but by then a month had passed and Astrid had officially given up all hope.
“Nice—“ His eyes darted around the Smithy for something other than you to compliment. “Blueprints, hanging,” He pointed over to the wall and you followed.
“Oh, yeah. One of the kids wants matching swords for him and his friends, gave us these designs and I came up with those,” You picked up the blueprints and handed them to Hiccup. He took them and you leaned against the desk, your fingers clutching on the edge of the wooden table and your ankles crossed.
“These are nice, I didn’t know you made concepts,” Hiccup smiled up at you from the seat Gobber had forced him to sit on after he nearly knocked over a bucket of liquid metal.
“Oh yeah, I made a lot of the blueprints as of late. Gobber isn’t the most creative on paper,”
“I also like men,” He blurted and you blinked.
“Cool, thanks for telling me.” You turned away as a villager approached and gave in their ticket. “Hand me that saddle, Hiccup,” He nodded and scrambled to the saddle perched on the desk. It was heavy but he was no stranger to lifting heavy objects. With a small grunt, he lifted the saddle up and walked over to you.
“Here you go,” He laughed after you stared at him for a second too long.
“Shoot, right. Thanks,” He slid the saddle to you and you helped the man load it onto his wagon.
“You… have you ever liked me?” He asked suddenly and you whipped around to face him.
“I mean, yes. But that was a while ago,” You chuckled and stuffed a piece of metal into the fire pit. “I… sorta had a thing for you, I guess. I mean— crap. You got me soundin’ like you. Tongue-tied and all that,” You tossed the metal into a bucket of water and looked at Hiccup. “Yes, short and simple,”
“Is it still ongoing?” He pressed and took a step forward.
“Maybe, we haven’t talked like this in a while,” Clearing your throat, you settled yourself on a chair. “You haven’t talked to me like this in a while, I’ve been flirting with you for ages,”
“Really— it was flirting. I told Astrid but she said I was being hopeful,” Hiccup must’ve been unaware that he was talking out loud since as soon as he finished talking he looked at you as if you weren’t supposed to hear that.
�� “You talk to Astrid about me?” He quickly went red but admitted that he did.
“I talk to Gobber about you, if that helps,”
“It does,”
“Cool.” Getting up, you checked the sun and saw it was time for lunch. “Want to get some fish fries?” You asked, hanging your apron up and turning the fire off. Gobber was out sick so the forge didn’t have anyone to watch it while you took your break. And burning down the only forgery wasn’t the best thing to happen to the island.
“Sure, they got this new thing I’ve been wanting to try. Uh…” Hiccup looked up to the sky as if it would tell him the answer. “Fish chips!”
“I heard of that,” You nodded before turning your head over to him. “This is a date, right?” Hiccup stopped and coughed into his fist for a second.
“Yup— yes! Definitely, a date. Yes,” He puffed up his chest and guided you to the restaurant.
#hiccup x reader#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup x male reader#hiccup haddock x male reader#x male reader#httyd#httyd x reader#httyd x male reader#hiccup haddock#mlm
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Zeke is a light sleeper and no one can convince me otherwise
pairing: zeke x fem!reader
tags: canonverse, postcoital aftermath (so kinda nsfw) (is it though, im still a little confused)
cw: they kinda have forbidden fuck-buddy relationship here, zeke is kinda a softy here, also zeke being a light sleeper is cuz of abuse in the childhood
wc: 1,6 k
Cold wind escaping from the window brought your body to shivers, merciless bites at the flesh of your exposed forearms and thighs bringing you back from your sweet sleep. An exasperated sigh escaped your lips at unpleasant realization - you had to get up and close the shutters or else you'd freeze to death.
The fact that you were bare under the skimpy cover of blankets wasn't of any help either. From the corner of your forcefully peeled open eye, you noticed a chain of clothes thrown at the floor with no care and left there for the duration of the night - they were yours, most likely. Out of the two of you, only you were too hungry for a cock to mind the orderliness. Not that he was against this, anyway.
As you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up straight, ready to venture out into the cold of the room, his hand caught your wrist.
"Where are you running off to?" the strain in his voice took a feigned hurt as he pulled your wrist towards him in an attempt to make you fall back into the enveloping yet poor warmth of the bed, "Away from me?"
You turned your head to see him and there he was - lying on the creased soiled sheets, most of the blanket on his side yet bunched up at his hips and barely covering his toned stomach and thighs. His eyes have been on you all that time. So strange to meet his gaze without the barrier of glass lenses. Icy blue and bright, there was not a shadow of drowsiness to them as he took in your naked form. How long has he been awake?
Prying your hand away from him and standing up, you retorted with a huff, "Well, since you were the last to fall asleep and failed to close the window last night, I'm doing it in your stead right now"
The corner of his lips curled at such a toothless rebuke. As you were nearing the window, he changed his position rolling on his side to keep his unbroken gaze on you. Anticipating to capture each one of your careful movements as you trotted lightly on your tiptoes across cold floor.
Sometimes you found yourself baffled by his affection for you and its enviable consistency. Under no light did you ever not captivate him. Like a moth to a flame - it blinded him to the prospects of all possible negative implication that your relationship may and would inevitably bring. After all, in the eyes of everyone you're merely comrades. And comradery didn't exactly entail fucking each other all throughout the night till dawn.
Even now, you couldn't comprehend his lingering gaze. Your body was far from clean - littered with spit stains from his far-from-careful kisses and sticky with sweat, especially on your inner thighs where some of his seed leaked from you - yet he still looked. Consumed, even. Or perhaps it was just him reveling in the fruits of his efforts from this night that evidently by no means were in vain.
"Shame, I thought I made sure that you had no strength in you left to rise to your feet and close the window in the morning," the ice in his eyes began to melt with sun rays spilling over his face. "Not what I was hoping for. "
Your eyebrow quirked in curiosity, "In a freezing room with an open window you were not expecting me to close it," you swallowed a mischievous smile. "What were you hoping for, then?"
Zeke retorted in a blank expression, almost aloof, "You know exactly what I was hoping for."
"You're expecting too much from the likes of me, Captain Yeager," you shot back, barely holding back a grin from splitting your face and stooping to a level lower than his.
Ah, insufferable as ever, almost annoyed with your feigned lack of gumption. He'd never say the words first and neither would you.
"Why are you awake in the first place?" you asked instead of carriying on with you taunts, "and at such early hour, no less?"
Drowsiness was still weighing on you as your jaw went numb with each yawn you were desparately trying to stifle, yet he didn't seem to be affected by an abrupt stop of his sleep at all.
Zeke answered with strange poise and affection, "You were thrashing around in your sleep, I thought something might be wrong." He broke off eye contact, seemingly not interested to see your reaction as if his explanation bore little significance.
"And how long have you been awake?"
Zeke pursed his lips for a moment, clearly disgruntled with the recent turn of the conversation, "An hour for certain."
Your mind in its eternal frivolousness convieniently generated images of Zeke lying by your side, watchful over your sleep whilst neglecting his. Did he simply stare? Or put his hands on your body in a subliminal attempt to lull your uneasy mind with his touch? And did your body respond? The warm knot in your stomach traveled to the tips of your ears.
Oblivious to his annoyance, you cracked an endearing smile as you continued to stand near the window leaning on its sill, "I didn't know you were a light sleeper." with your gaze you try to meet his eyes, hopelessly averted from you, "Is it a recent development or have you been like this since childhood?"
"Since my childhood," the tone of his voice falling to never heard before depths.
Shadows grew on his cheeks and bridge of the nose as Zeke clenched his jaw and frowned. Then, he looked at you - now, without his glasses, he eyes seemed even more raw than usual.
Only now did you realize that in this mindless exchange you may have overstepped with your remarks. You hoped he's not too upset with you for your stupi curiosity. The tackiness on your inner thighs stirred your mind with new force as your eyes finally caught a glimpse of the door to the bathroom.
Still naked and very much freezing, you moved past his bed to the bathroom picking up your discarded clothes on the way, "I have a shift early in the morning so I better start getting ready." you muttered as you were closing the door, "Besides, i don't wanna stay up to late to let everybody in the internment zone see how i frequent your place."
As hot streams washed over you warming up your cold extremities, you let your mind wander in the nice sensation. You found comfort - if not twisted pleasure - in the knowledge that you may not restrict yourself in your usage of hot water since it's Zeke who would be paying the bill. For an honorary Marleyan it wouldn't be a grave expense. And strictly speaking, he also bore part of the blame for your disheveled state and would gladly fuck you to the same state all over again. The memories from previous night coiled up in you as you voiced a slight discontent at the fact that you wouldn't have time for this today anyway.
The air in the room was thick with steam and scent of cheap soap by the time you were done cleaning up. All the muscles in your body, previously tense, grew more and more relaxed after the heat treatment. Whilst standing in front of the mirror inspecting your face neck in search of any damning evidence of passionate sex, you nearly lost yourself.
So much so, that you failed to heat the sound of the door handle turning and hinges creaking. By the time you noticed Zeke, he'd already snaked his arms around your waist, beard prickling at your shoulder as he rested his chin on it.
"When does your shift start exactly?" a whisper poured into your ear.
You were thankful that he - unlike you - was already dressed, lest the laughably small space between your bodies would be too unnbearable, "In two hours but it's on the other side of the internment zone."
You shot up your eyes to the mirror. In there you could see Zeke's form towering over you yet desparate to envelope your fresh body. A low hum vibrated through your skin all the way to your heart. There's still time, you had the insolence to assume Zeke's thought process. Though it was pretty obvious that he was extremely pleased with this fact as he weighed down on you even more, his eyes closing.
A soft chuckle escaped your throat at the utter lack of personal space he's granted you, "But i still have to get ready," your mindful words failed to repell him.
As he lifted up his head, from the corner of your eye you could notice his unblinking gaze locked on your features, "Even in your sleep you're very beautiful," he said with an unwavering calmness to his voice, "So tranquil. Even the sniffles you make are adorable."
Constricted from movement in the cradle of his posessive embrace, you can do nothing but to look at him through the mirror's reflection. The most neutral expression was painted on his features, as if the words falling from his lips weren't radiating almost intoxicating level of endearment.
The curiosity got the better of you, "Was it the first time for you? Watching me?"
His hot breath fanning over the shell of your ear, you felt his lips pressing against your temple. The warmth spreading in your chest made it hard to make a single inhale.
"Every time you stay, you wake me up and i watch you till i fall asleep again," confession rolling off his lips so easily.
Suddenly you felt so overflowing with tenderness, it was making you numb. Laying your head back against your shoulder, you looked back at his eyes. Without the glasses, their gaze felt even warmer, the heat radiating on your features.
"Are you up for some coffee? I've made some in the kitchen"
#zeke my clingy baby#attack on titan#aot#shingeki no kyojin#zeke#zeke yeager#zeke jeager#zeke x reader#zeke fluff#zeke yeager x reader#zeke oneshots#aot oneshots
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Note: This is a part two to my previous Hiccup smut. But in this one something about Freya is revealed. I'm probably going to make a bunch of one shot maybe two shot smuts with Hiccup.
Warnings: Sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, dom!Hiccup, sub!Freya, swearing, biting, kissing, unprotected sex. Let me know if I missed anything.
Freya's P.O.V:
As Hiccup was kissing me I felt his dick harden above me. I moaned into the kiss as he slipped back inside me. As he started fucking me at a fast pace, he pulled away from the kiss, trailing his lips down my jaw to my neck.
I gasped as I felt him bite my collarbone. I soon moaned as this brought something out in me. I stopped panting and hiccup looked up. I seen his eyes widen and him gasp. I looked into his eyes and seen my reflection, my eyes were no longer bright blue, they are a dark red with slit pupils. I licked the front of my teeth and felt small fangs, that's also when I noticed a purple glow to my hands. It looked like a night fury's plasma blast.
"F-Freya...I think your part dragon." Hiccup stuttered. (What a time to find out your part dragon.)
"Yeah, I'm not really Astrid's sister. I was adopted by her parents when I was little." I said.
"Is there anything else you can do?" He asked.
"Yeah." I said and as if on cue a night fury tail wrapped around Hiccup's waist, two black wings sprouted from my back, I also grew sharp black nails that could have posed as claws.
"This is amazing!! Your amazing!!" He exclaimed, kissing me passionately again.
I was afraid he would hate me since I was part night fury, but now I know he really does love me. I thought as I kissed him back with the same passion.
We both moaned as he started thrusting again. I ran my claws down his back careful not to scratch him hard enough to draw blood.
I leaned forward a little and bit down on Hiccup's shoulder drawing blood. He groaned as I pulled away and licked the blood from his shoulder. I leaned back until I hit the bed and licked his blood from my lips.
I guess that was it for him as he came right then. I followed suit, both of us moaning the others name. He pulled out an dlfopped down beside me.
"I love you Freya." Hiccup said, kissing my forehead.
"I love you too Hiccup." I said, smiling.
#x oc#x reader#hiccup x reader smut#hiccuphorrendoushaddockiii#hiccup haddock x reader#hiccup x reader#Smut
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Can we get prompts of Astas siblings with MC and Irusya with MC ?
Wow..this is going to be big...
Asta's siblings and the MC
"It seems like you can't escape the most boring social events of the season either, don't you?" Hartwin flashed a crooked smile at the MC who was approaching him and his siblings.
"I can play late into the night if I come and behave, Uncle Hartwin," the MC said in a confidential tone, looking around.
"Ha! Are they throwing this one at you too?" Rigan laughed loudly ignoring the stares he received, he patted the MC's head. "Say the word and I'll get you out of here"
"Don't be silly, Rigan" Silvina intruded pulling the MC into the middle of the circle they formed. "The MC has to attend this type of event to stand out among the other realms and already start making alliances"
"They're seven, sister" Rigan reminded her, mocking, as he pulled the MC to his side. "Their only Duty is to run around and steal sweets"
"Steal sweets for their queen-aunt" Mairenn approached the conversation keeping her hand on her already visible belly "You'll do that won't you? Go get some sweets for your future cousin"
"You can't ask them that!" Objected Silvina "They have to make alliances not be your servant"
"That's an alliance" Mairenn smiled at the MC "I will make your cousin, the future monarch, swear allegiance to you, MC. Now, help your aunt
"You all are unbelievable!" Asta interrupted looking disapprovingly at her siblings as she reached over to take the MC's hand. "You are all nobles of the court! Hartwin, Mairenn, you sit on the throne of the neighboring kingdoms, have more decorum!"
"I'm just the king consort, Queen Asta. I don't need to have so much decorum" Hartwin winked at the MC. "And Mairenn was never very diplomatic"
"Excuse me?"
"I hope you're not behaving like troll puppies in front of our most important allies" Aedh's voice echoed through his children who fell silent immediately, across the room, Aedh stared at them without blinking.
"You're in trouble," the MC laughed looking at their family. They had also heard Aedh's voice "More than I do"
Irusya and the MC
"Why did it take so long for you to notify me of their birth?" Irusya approached her son ignoring the guards and servants who watched her tensely. She used the language of vampires. "You're not planning on keeping me out, are you?"
Carmello ignored his mother's accusatory tone and held the MC more firmly in his arms.
"It's been hectic times we've had here, Mother," he replied neutrally, "Taking care of a kingdom and also taking care of a baby and keeping my enemies away have occupied me quite a bit"
"And still miss the chance to annihilate the elves once and for all," Irusya added without getting carried away by her son's words. "Let's cut this conversation that isn't going anywhere, let me hold them."
Carmello had a moment of almost imperceptible hesitation before handing the MC over to Irusya.
She looked directly into the MC's eyes, noting every detail of their face and bright eyes.
She smiled with satisfaction and pride, one of her hands caressing the MC's face gently.
"I have so many expectations for you" she said only to the baby but Carmello's sigh was enough for her to know he had heard it too. "You're going to be the best of us. I'll make sure of that"
The MC smiled, still toothless, and she felt a small spark ignite in her heart again.
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As AO3 is down, or at the very least glitchy, I’ll publish the story here, then reblog later once I’ve posted it on the alternate site.
Vigcup Week 2023 Day 1!
@vigcup-week
Survivor:
A Burning End
The sunlight was increasingly bright. Searing his eyelids. Even in closing his eyes there was still a blaring orange. He took a heavy breath, feeling pain in his side. He was sure he was laying against a solid surface, though feeling his shoulder hanging.
"Keep an eye out! We want to make sure the job got done properly." He heard him shout from the air.
Viggo forced his eyes to stay open, even if the sunlight caused him to squint. There was the urge to run coursing through him, but his body wasn't fulfilling the command. Wanting to stay still, reminding him of the other weight keeping him pinned. Sure, it would take a good effort to push away what had collapsed over him, but that would mean exposure.
Besides, being trapped in rubble was inevitable. That had been their strategy, explosion after explosion, devastation forcing them back. He'd retreated, presuming they would have thought Hunter Isle being the last place standing.
There was a sudden shuffle some ways to his left. He found strength enough to stiffen. And the slight movement must have been enough, because a dragon screech followed some seconds later. He recognized what it meant. There's someone there. The few shadows the fallen debris provided was taken away, and his hand began to slide behind his waist.
"Look where the coward has fallen. Oh but look Toothless, at least he's alive. Not like the rest of his men."
"It had to be you." He said in an exhausted whisper.
"And you're not looking so good." Hiccup responded.
"No, but that's what you wanted. This much destruction, to prevent anyone fighting back."
"Well it was a better alternative to what you wanted. Us struck down from the sky in an inferno, or impaled with arrows." He withdrew his sword. "We struck first."
"It was simply, business."
“Tell me Viggo. Your armies are fallen. You might be the last standing.”
“You can’t be sure of that-”
“That’s what my friends are looking for. How will the leader of the Dragon Hunters proceed?”
His fingers found the hilt as he saw Hiccup approach wielding his own weapon. A sword he knew held the ability to be lit aflame. A worthy weapon of his adversary, but he wasn't appreciating of where it could be embedded.
"You found the other base." He ground out.
"You abandoned your former stronghold. But dormancy was far too out of the question. Both of us were preparing to end this."
"It seems like you've won, doesn't it."
"It really does." Hiccup looked animatedly around the burning wreckage, his eyes easing shut and grinning as the cries of freed dragons pierced the sky. "But you're still breathing. Toothless and I didn't have the luxury of finding your charred corpse. No," The sword neared Viggo's throat, "we get you still capable of acting like you have the upper hand."
Viggo's eyes gazed at the sword, then they flicked back up to Hiccup.
"Do you wish it would have killed me?"
"Now you've left me with a dilemma. You know this wasn't your only base to fall, and how many Hunters you've lost. Perhaps the ones who've fled. We've reached this point of the game, Viggo. The Viking King is the one who has to give the final command to strike down his opponent. When he's sacrificed so many of his people for his own self-preservation."
Then he glanced slyly backward. Looking to the sky, then eyes skimming their surroundings. His head slowly eased back to watch the lying victim, and with a click of the hilt, the sword ignited.
"They don't have to know I found you like this." He said lowly.
Viggo had pressed his head back. Able to feel the heat of the flame inches from the skin of his face. The wooden remains he had been leaning against creaking from the pressure. If the sword was this close, there wasn't a point in begging for mercy. Yes he knew. Knew how many ships had fallen, how efforts to regain supplies had also been interrupted. Figured out too late how the Riders' decimation had been to close in on him.
And in this final stroke, a flamed sword in the hand of a teenager preparing to deliver a searing end.
#my fanfic#fanfic#vigcup week 2023#vigcup week#rtte#hiccup haddock the third#viggo grimborn#toothless#graphic depictions of violence#hiccup's inferno#teen and up audiences#dark hiccup#dark dragon riders#vigcup#hiccup and murderous intentions#viggo at the end of his rope
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Ok can I request present mic, gang orca and all might (preferably small might <3) with reader that has two quirks that kinda merged together (like todoroki’s) the quirks are green toxins(just multiple toxins merged and turned green) and dragon! The reader has wings, a tail and ears (like toothless’s ears in httyd) and we can transform into a dragon about the size of a giraffe on its hind legs and can be even bigger if there quirk is at 100%(also has bright green markings and oose) (sorry if this is a lot :( )
This is sort of a bad request in the way that it’s not a situation I can write about, you just gave me character traits. On the other hand there’s enough weird character traits for me to get enough stuff out of this. The reader is of similar age to each character of course. I didn’t do Mic, sorry
~All Might/Toshinori Yagi~
•You’ve learned to control your quirk, you learned it back when you were in UA yourself
•But Toshinori likes hearing the stories of all the mishaps you had with it when you were learning to control it
•The toxins part was the one you had to learn to control, since your body would sometimes react to strong emotions or injuries by secreting those toxins and you could hurt someone
•The dragon part always came very naturally to you, since it’s much more physical and it’s not tied to your emotions, it’s just something you choose to do when you switch between your dragon form and humanoid form
•Toshinori has gotten pretty good at reading your emotions by the way your ears move, because they move based on how you’re feeling
•You like to wrap your tail around his leg when you’re cuddling and you also purr when you’re feeling happy
•You have to be super careful when kissing him, because if you don’t pay attention, you might release some off the toxins you produce, since they mostly come from your mouth
•That would end with him in the hospital since his respiratory system is busted already
•You’re actually very scared of kissing him and it’s usually just fleeting small kisses, but you show affection in other ways, cuddles, hugs, hand holding and words of affirmation
~Gang Orca/Sakamata Kugo~
•Kugo has a mutant type of quirk too, he’s of course more animal looking than you, but you do have mutant attributes too
•The ears, tail and wings and some scales on your body
•He’s never been jealous of people who have more human like features, he’s proud of how he looks and how strong he is
•You though, you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen and he absolutely worships you
•You’ve always been very careful with physical affection, especially kissing or other such activities, because you don’t want to hurt him accidentally
•While you can sort of decide how strong the toxins you release are, you can’t make them non-toxic
•Sure you they might only cause a headache or some nausea, but they always cause something and it’s never pleasant
•You love to cuddle with him and while you’re smaller than him in your humanoid form, you’re quite a lot bigger when you’re in your dragon form
•You sometimes stay in your dragon form for longer than you really need to and you like to curl around him and wrap your tail around his leg so he can’t escape
•Kugo quite enjoys your dragon cuddles, but sometimes you do get a bit too clingy with it and don’t like to let him go
#bnha#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#all might#toshinori yagi#gang orca#kugo sakamata#bnha headcanons#mha headcanons#mha fluff#bnha fluff#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bnha fanfiction#mha fanfiction
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Monstrous May Challenge 1 & 2
Combining Day 1 and Day 2, “The Werewolf” and “The Monster’s Teeth” for the monstrous may challenge into one story because I missed yesterday. Nothing sexy toady.
Toothless she was and frail.
Ylona’s old gums pained her with the clenching of her jaw.
What a bitter thing it was to be old and powerless. They put her in a corner and gave her potatoes and a knife that was barely up to slicing that thinness of skin. And weren’t they kind, see how we take care of old granddam. We let her sleep by the fire instead of the convenient choice of by the door so we wouldn’t have to take care of old granddam next year.
She skinned the potatoes thinking of her son.
Pyvrek had been a bright eyed boy. Full of trouble that had made Ylona laugh and indulge him until he was too big for control. A great bear of a man like his father before him who took what he wanted and smiled with his bright eyes when he took it.
His bride had been the most beautiful girl. Because Pyvrek took what he wanted and a bright eyed boy full of trouble didn’t know the right things to want. She was a pitiable thing who didn’t realize her ‘power’ would fade and she would be set aside for another girl, someone prettier in the earlier bloom of her youth.
Perhaps Ylona should have loved her bastard grandchildren. Turn the other cheek. Even if it was the hind one in a barn. Like they were rutting ram and sheep, her son and a girl too young to know better. There had been three true born grandchildren. Each set tenderly in the dirt behind their home in a row that their mother ended. Each one had taken a little of her love with them. Until there was only an ember and one girl left.
Ylona still had a smile left for her youngest. A smile and a disinterested pat because it was better not to get attached.
The girl grew up like all children do. A pretty girl, her Halura. Too pretty. And the eyes of the other bear-like men and the counting men and the pretty men all turned to her.
Ylona warned Halura, do not go into the barn alone. Or off anywhere alone with a man. Halura had listened so she couldn’t be trapped.
But there was nothing Ylona could do about her son. Her son couldn’t be turned by a pretty face. He couldn’t be turned by threats. But the glittering wealth counted out for Halura’s skin… that could turn a man’s head. And as the favors piled up higher than the gifts, her son found his eyes ever brighter. So more was counted his way. And the chaff of youth fell before the wealth of ever older and more miserly men who leered ever more openly at what would soon be their property.
Halura at last came Ylona where she skinned and cried her heartache. It didn’t matter who she was eventually sold to. The truth was already there. She would be sold. Her master would be old and have no human feelings for her. She would be a treasure to be locked away and die in the vault by one means or another.
Ylona gave her a smile because what else could she do for her granddaughter? Her son would not listen to her. Her new daughter in a law was barely a stupid stripling girl herself, growing crueler on the indiference of her husband who hadn’t shown as clearly before hand that she was just another treasure to be used up and thrown away. How kind we are. We told her she was beautiful. We showed her love. What a shame she became so sharp and unkind. No appreciation.
Halura begged. “Granddam, help me.”
“I am toothless and frail.”
“I have no one else.”
“What can I do? No one will listen to me.”
“I will listen.”
Ylona had nothing. A place to sit. A knife that would barely cut. Potatoes. She was old. That was what she had. Years. Time and tales. That she could give to her granddaughter.
“You must get me a long, thick, strong rope. One that even your father with a knife would take a long time to cut. Without it, there is no hope for you.”
Ylona peeled her potatoes and waited while the young girl set to hope. In two days, Halura brought her a thick rope made for lifting heavy stones.
“You must get me a knife sharp enough to cut this rope like butter. Without it there is no hope for you.”
Ylona knotted the rope with care, turning it from a single length to a trap that would bind and lift by the weight of her potatoes.
Halura brought her a knife and when Ylona cut the excess from the woven rope, it did cut through it with ease even though her hands were weak and shaky.
“You must get me a fresh cut of meat, something delicious that even uncooked will make us drool for the want of it. Without it, there is no hope for you.”
Ylona filled the trap with potatoes until it was so heavy she couldn’t lift it.
Halura returned, the tangy smell of bloody meat making both their tongues seem to swell and sweat with the need to stuff it in their mouths.
“You must help me carry all this into the woods and set the trap. Without it, there is no hope for you.”
It was a long walk and her bones ached with the distance and the weight. And when they were in the forest, Ylona forced them onward until even her granddaughter shook with the effort and weakness. There they set the trap over a tree that stood by two crossing deer paths.
Halura spread leaves over it with care to hide it even from a demon’s eyes. And Halura set the meat in the trap so that all the songs of the forest stopped.
Ylona held the far end of the trap in her shaking arms so not even an inconvenient breeze could move and reveal the snare. And the scent of peeled potatoes rubbed onto her as she shook so she was like a root herself.
“You must run home now and never say where you have been. Never hint where I may be. If ever a man realizes what we have done, there is no hope for you.”
Halura ran as best she could.
Ylona stayed and trembled as the sun set and the moon rose and the forest stayed silent. Her body begged for rest but the last energy of the dying came to her and she held fast.
At last something dared the path. Eyes shining in the moonlight. A wolf came to the meat, sniffing cautiously.
It snatched the meat which triggered the trap, the extra weight finally overcoming Ylona and she toppled to the ground as the wolf rose into the air. She lay, panting a long time as the wolf thrashed and curled and snapped at the strong rope that held it over the ground. Only as it weakened did Ylona push herself up, conserving all her strength until she needed it.
From the thick woods beyond the path many eyes watched her, bright with the setting moon. Ylona did not flinch or stop but approached the snarling wolf with her sharp knife. Her witnesses howled only once, with her wolf, they chorused with his death howl and then one by one they turned away as she cut the corpse free.
She skinned the wolf. Laid the skin flat. And in the dark of the night she laid herself into the skin and waited for some evil to come to the crossroads.
They placed two sticks in a cross next to Halura’s mother on the far side of Halura’s sisters. And for a month, for propriety, they were allowed time to mourn.
Perhaps, if they had not been given a full month.
Perhaps, if Pyvrek had been a kinder man.
Perhaps, if Halura had not been so headstrong.
Perhaps, if the men had realized it was only the beginning.
What man can say what might have been? They can only say what did happen.
On the night of the next full moon, the first of the wolves came to Pyvrek’s door.
Fatal she was and so full of teeth.
#monstrousmaychallenge#MonstrousMay#Monstrous May#prompt challenge#challenge#creative writing#my own work
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Childhood Coincidences
Summary: The Second Chapter to Crushed.
Warning: Sick fic
Rating: General
Characters: Hiccup, Snotlout, Toothless, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Astrid, Fishlegs
Pairing: /
Words: /
Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon
Prompt: Crying to sleep
Whumpee: Hiccup, Snotlout
Author’s Notes: /
@ailesswhumptober
XOXOX
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that his ribs are terribly broken and not much could be done for them. Ice is found, crushed, and wrapped in cloth to put over that swollen knee until it melts. And Fishlegs decides to give Hiccup every pain killer under the sun within reason. Only alleviating his pain and providing support can help as it’ll help him breathe easier, yet also keep his ribs in place. At the same time, they prevent pneumonia. Especially after all the lungfuls of water he inhaled.
There were trying days in which the Riders kept him company constantly- he could barely get out of bed- and could not get him to admit why he refused to let them help him that first day.
If this alliance is to work, there should be no room for life-threatening secrets. Hiccup is entirely dependent on them for the time being, he needs them.
Until eventually, the worst does happen.
“And you’re sure it’s pneumonia?” Astrid asks quietly, a hand in her hair. Fishlegs nods solemnly. They’re still in Hiccup’s hut.
“If we don’t get Gothi to him now, he stands no chance,” they are dire words, but it’s the truth. Pneumonia can’t be left untreated, they simply can’t chance it. This illness is often fatal.
All day, Hiccup has been shivering and sweating because of a high fever. His breaths are once again short and shallow, every intake is like a knife stabbing into his lungs, as if the fractured ribs weren’t already troublesome enough. His coughing is moist, his mucus so thick he chokes if he doesn’t get it all up, which is extremely difficult. Pain killers aren’t enough, they need something for that cough, lest it be the reason a rib finally gets displaced.
Just as they’re talking about it, a new wave of coughing flares up and Toothless helps him sit up. It sounds like he’s choking and his face grows red trying to get it all out, tears streams down his cheeks. Watching him makes them cringe and if it looks that bad to them, they can’t imagine what it’s like to be the one to cough.
“We should go. Now. Ready Stormfly and Meatlug,” Astrid decides, taking command as Hiccup hasn’t been able to lead them since the rescue mission.
-XOXOX-
With Astrid and Fishlegs gone on a four-day flight to and from Berk, it leaves Snotlout in charge of the twins. They, too, can see how bad Hiccup is doing. For once, the Edge is left in their responsible hands.
Wringing out a soaked cloth, Snotlout replaces it on Hiccup’s forehead. He’s been in and out of sleep, his cheeks a bright red from the fever and his undertunic wet through and through, hair matted and sticking flat to his skull. He’s shivering, but they can’t use any of their furs, it wouldn’t do his fever good, they’d just be cooking him alive.
It’s quiet. There’s a fire burning downstairs to keep the hut warm. Toothless is curled up on one side of the bed while Snotlout sits on a stool at the other.
“It’s been so long… since I’ve last felt this bad,” Hiccup breathes, laying a hand on the cloth as if trying to become one with the slight relief it provides. His head is pounding.
Another cough breaks free, Toothless’ head snaps up, Snotlout helps him sit up, arms around him.
“Oh Gods,” Hiccup moans miserably. His difficulty breathing, his pain, and his illness all get to him again. He is in a truly horrible state. So when he moans and tears slip free, Snotlout really can’t blame him.
He tries his best to suppress the sobs threatening to break free, the jolts of his body only make things worse.
“You mean, you haven’t felt this awful since your leg?” Snotlout asks helpfully, trying to distract him as he lets him back down gently and Hiccup look up at him in confusion.
“My leg?” He sniffs, apparently he can’t remember losing an entire limb.
“No, I’m… I’m talking about when we were kids… You know, when… When I was sick all the time?” Snotlout raises an eyebrow. He takes the cloth back to soak it again. “Every winter… It felt like I’d die, but I didn’t.”
He freezes mid-wring.
“What do you mean you almost died when we were kids?”
Toothless comes up and purrs down at Hiccup, nuzzling him and distracting him.
“I know, Bud… I need sleep,” his Rider tries to roll onto his side, only to be met with more pain. He moans and that gets him to cough again.
Snotlout doesn’t help. He can’t, overcome with shock and questions. Luckily, Toothless is there to help out. He ends up crying until he finally dozes off, released from his awful reality.
-XOXOX-
Later that evening, Snotlout met with Ruffnut and Tuffnut in the newly finished clubhouse. It was time for them to take over his shift, so he could start dinner. It was his turn tonight.
The place is a mess, the twins have clearly been up to something, but when Snotlout walks in, they’re quiet.
“How is our fearless leader?” Ruffnut asks, but Snotlout just walks right past her and to the kitchen. The twins share a look.
“Uh, hello?” Ruffnut calls after him. “How is he?”
Snotlout stops, but not to answer her question.
“What do you guys remember about Hiccup’s disappearance?”
“Uh, which one? We know more than one,” Tuffnut shrugs.
“There is a surprising amount of Hiccups in our little corner of the word. Berk even had three!” Ruffnut helpfully adds.
“Hiccup The third. Stoick’s kid.”
Brother and sister look deep in thought, arms crossing and hands on their hips, a thoughtful expression on both of their faces.
“She got taken by a dragon, right? She was always disappearing into the forest, Astrid tracked her to this one cove, but one day she just didn’t come back. Stoick’s kid, not Astrid. Astrid came back.”
“Yeah, it was right before dragon training ended, too. She was doing a really good job.”
“We told Stoick about the cove, but all we found were signs that a dragon was there once. And Hiccup’s knife in the lake.”
Snotlout crosses his arms, a contemplative look to him. “You remember what those signs were?”
“Scales, fish bones, patches of burnt grass, a broken tree… You know, like a fight had broken out. And then we found Hiccup’s knife in the water,” Ruffnut repeats. But no body, which is why they’re trusting Hiccup the Dragon Master- or Feralcup, if one is nasty- to know where Hiccup the Lost Princess might’ve gone.
With a troubled expression, Snotlout continues on to the kitchen in the back and neither Ruff nor Tuff follow him. They simply look at one another and Tuffnut shruggs.
Snotlout is glad that they’re not following him, he needs to think.
What the Dragon Master just told him was a story of their childhood. When Snotlout was a wee lad and would watch as Stoick would keep his daughter indoors for the dozenth time that year because she was born much too early and that made her a sickly child.
Did the Dragon Master have a similar childhood?
Grabbing pots, Snotlout finds himself trying to remember their heir. It's been only three years, yet his memories of her are quite vague.
At 15, she had those round cheeks, like the baby fat hadn't all quite left her. There was barely anything on her, scrawny as she was. Her hair when not braided- she hated having her hair done- and came down to her butt. He admittedly thought she was at least a little cute back in the day, even though she was far from a warrior. She's nothing like the sickly man currently confined to his bed.
For one, he's a guy, there's no mistaking that. There's not an ounce of baby fat in his cheeks and his hair is significantly redder from spending all his time in the open sun, not to mention it's considerably shorter. And again, he’s very obviously a guy.
So that is what this must be then; a coincidence. Maybe Snotlout reminds him of someone from his own tribe before he lost it and that’s why he said what he said.
Snotlout grabs the ingredients for their dinner for tonight and for Hiccup’s soup. The thoughts continue to plague him, no matter how hard he tries to push them away.
This has to be a coincidence. It just has to be.
#ailesswhumptober2023#ailesswhumptober#day 15#alt prompt#crying to sleep#httyd fics#httyd movies#rtte#race to the edge#au#alternate universe#hiccup left berk au#trans!hiccup au#hiccup haddock#hiccup whump#toothless#hicctooth#snotlout jorgenson#snotlout whump#ruffnut thorston#tuffnut thorston#astrid hofferson#fishlegs ingerman#hiccup and the dragon riders#my fanfics#crushed#childhood coincidences
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No. 5: “You better pray I don’t get up this time around.”
Debris | Pinned Down | “It’s broken.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sam tried to push himself off the ground attempting to swallow him, swearing under his breath. Explosions were raining down around him, casting everything in dark tones of red and orange and blasting Sam’s eardrums, his head throbbing. The armor – the Warden’s armor, the one he had worn for so long, the one that had become a second skin to him – was weighing him down, locking together and keeping him from getting up.
Sam was interrupted by the sound of a flutter of inhuman wings, a few spare footsteps behind him, and he barely had moments to prepare himself – he knew he was there, he was the cause of all of it, of course he was here, but he still hadn’t expected to come face-to-face with him, alone, just the two of them – before Dream swung into sight, a mocking smile on his face. It only widened when he saw Sam. Sam scowled. He wasn’t interested in this song-and-dance.
“Oh, what, Sam? You thought that I’d never get up after what you did to me? Really?” Dream asked, his eyes wide and wild and alight with bright green light and a strange sort of fervent anger. The fire raining down from above produced a glowing halo around his head. He looked too bright, too real, to actually be part of this world, to actually be human and natural. (He looked beautiful, and Sam hated that he thought that) “Well, that was fucking stupid of you, wasn’t it?”
“I did what I had to!” Sam protested, some old depleted embers catching fire again within him. “Sure, some of it was regrettable, but it was necessary, Dream!”
“If we’re in the business of deciding what is necessary,” Dream started, quietly, coldly, furiously, an axe materializing in his hand, “then why shouldn’t I say that killing you would be necessary?” He raised his arm up to rest the blade against Sam’s neck. It was trembling a little, unsteady, and the blade cut into Sam’s flesh the slightest amount. A single drop of blood ran down Sam’s neck.
“You can’t just say something like that when it’s not true. You have to have reasons for the stuff that you do,” Sam explained, trying to stamp out the way his voice was wavering, just slightly. He wasn’t afraid, especially not of Dream.
“Oh? And who’s to say that I don’t have my reasons?” Dream stepped back, spreading his arms wide. “I’m a god, Sam. I’m a fucking god! I’m a god and none of you fucking noticed!” he shouted, a hysterical laugh bubbling up alongside his words.
“I’m the one who makes the rules here. I’m the one who’s made this world! And look where that fucking got me,” Dream hissed, lowering his arms. “Look how you all decided to thank me. And yes, Sam, that includes you too. Don’t pretend that you don’t know what you did. We both know that’s a lie.”
“I never hurt you, Dream.” It wasn’t a lie; not to Sam, at least.
(He didn’t voice his other thoughts – that Dream deserved it; that Dream wasn’t human, just like they’d always thought, and that meant everything they’d done to him was justified; that Dream seemed perfectly fine right now so they couldn’t of done too much and he should just forget about it; that if Dream had just done what he was supposed, what they had been asking, right at the beginning instead of never, none of this would have happened; that they had been making Dream better, stripping away his weapons to make his something new, something better, something toothless and helpless that could do no harm, and that he should of helped them help himself, because it was best for all of them)
“Oh, really?!” Dream stalked forward, grabbing Sam’s shoulders. Sam flinched, just the littlest bit. “You never hurt me?! You, who made my life a living hell?! Who let Quackity in?! Who might as well of held the knife in your hands?!” Dream laughed, dropping Sam like a sack of potatoes and turning away. “Yeah, totally. You definitely never hurt me.”
“I never did anything worse than what you did, Dream. In exile, you–”
“Well, I sure never tortured anyone, never cut off anyone’s arms, never kidnapped a toddler. And do you want to know why, Sam? It’s not because I’m better than you or anything like that. It’s ‘cause I never had to because I never got myself into those situations and wasn’t a lying pussy that thought it was ‘necessary’, oh boo hoo. It’s because you’re an idiot, and I’m not.”
Dream turned back towards Sam, eyes cool and calm and seconds away from shattering forever. “That’s what is important here. I was smart and patient and determined and I won. You were an idiot and didn’t know what you were dealing with and you lost. All of you were,” he added, raising his voice at the end. “That’s what matters here.
“And that’s. It,” he hissed. “Don’t try to make it something else. What matters is that you fucked up and I’m the consequences of that. You kicked me one too many times without even attempting to consider that I might get up and try to take my pound of flesh. What did you fucking think would happen?”
“I thought that it was fine! You’d just give us the book, we’d leave you alone, and everything would be fine! That would be it!” Sam demanded. He took a moment to calm down. “You wouldn’t get the chance to hurt anyone else, we’d make it so that no one had to worry about dying, and we’d all be able to move on.”
“Oh, so it was about the book,” Dream commented listlessly, words pointed and dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, I totally buy that. It definitely wasn’t about something like, I don’t know, control? Obsession? Being able to do whatever you wanted with no one being able to stop you? Nope, definitely not that.”
Dream suddenly smiled, his hair wild, unhinged, eyes flickering candle-flame red from the TNT surrounding him, falling from the sky. “But, whatever your fucking reasons, they don’t matter now. It’s too late for that, Sam. You fucked with me and I turned out to be a god, and that’s it. It’s over. Your story’s over and mine just got started, Sam. Too bad you won’t be around to see it.” The axe was back in Dream’s hand, swinging towards Sam, and then that was it.
(Sam woke up in a prison, back at his desk, just as the prison alarms started blaring and red light started flashing)
(Dream stood there for a moment, searching for that all too rare satisfying closure, some foreign catharsis, before moving on. He had other, more important things to do than look for something he wouldn’t be able to find)
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