#And so far the story is actually pretty damn interesting

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Take the damn shot

A/N: Ohhhhh I've spiraled. Going from Mandalorian fics to writing about a radioactive cowboy with no nose within a couple weeks of each other is totally healthy :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence. Summary: A single quiet day in the saloon is all you wanted. But somehow, your Ghoul partner is pulling his gun and you're covered in another person's blood. Honestly, it's just typical.

Word Count: 1.7k+

(GIF Credit to @djo)

The Ghoul hates to admit it, but he needs you.

In the same sick and twisted, goddamned way he needs the Vials to stay sane, he needs you next to him. When poison air grows thick and the scorching sun sinks beyond a brutalized horizon, you’re always at his side. Day in and day out, you stick around. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to take on the fucked up world you’re all stuck in.

And Cooper’s not one for generosity anymore, but he gives you credit a lot of the time. He knows he can be nasty, and you don’t mind one bit. In spite of his callousness and general disregard for safety, you put on a chipper attitude and tug him (sometimes physically) along to the next town.  Outwardly innocent but filled with a mutual hatred for Vault-Tec and what its influence had done to the world and yourself, you’d quickly become his diamond in the rough. 

And you shine particularly bright in the shack of a building the Wasteland called a saloon. You’ve made careful friends with a couple of gray-haired biddies- presumably the owners-  in the back of the room, and chat happily with them. Cooper sits off to the side behind you, a bottle of the local brew dangling between his fingers. He’s content for the first time in a while; ass in a creaky rocking chair and boots kicked up on an old milk crate. The brim of his hat is pulled down to hide the majority of his face, but eyes wander lazily from you to the front door. 

Cooper didn’t think many things were nice any longer, but listening to you prattle on with the women warmed something in his dead heart.

“You’re awfully pretty for this place.” The older of the two women, sporting a single eye and an impressively neat beehive style, compliments you. “Gotta be out of the Vaults with that skin.”

The Ghoul tenses, knowing the mention of your 200-year prison would strike a nerve. 

“Yeah. I’m from before the war, actually.” You say it plainly and chase it down with a swig of liquor. “Fuckin’ Vault-Tec.”

The Ghoul’s familiar with your story, from you finding out about the plan to drop homemade bombs on American citizens to your confrontation with the executive group in Vault 31. Little did you know, you’d be sneaking in with no chance for escape. Cooper tightens his fist at the thought of Hank MacLean shoving you carelessly into a cryopod and slamming the button to lock you in. You’d relayed the story to him with watery eyes, and that’s something he absolutely loathed. He had enough personal beef with Hank that your trauma added to his ever-growing list of things to be absolutely pissed-the-fuck-off about.

Finch and Sparrow, as they were so comically named, clutch their pearls in sadness as you tell your story. They fawn over you, and Cooper makes out a few ‘fuck them Vaulties’ and a ‘well as much as it sucks, we’re glad you made it this far’. You sniff just barely and wipe your eyes. 

“Thanks, ladies. It means a lot.” 

The conversation turns back pleasant for the most part, and you’re enthralled as the women pull you into the town gossip. Cooper begrudgingly gets up to piss, comfy as he was, but stops at your side to hand off his bag first. You take it with a nod, more interested in the rumor mill than his whereabouts for the moment. He swaggers to the back door of the saloon, where wind whips sand against his jeans and patters the leather of his boots with tiny rocks. 

Voices drift out the door from inside as Cooper yanks his zipper back up. 

“Is it true what they say ‘bout Vaulties?” It’s a man’s voice, gruff and demanding in comparison to the happy lilt of yours. “Heard your story and always been… curious.”

“If you listened, you would know I ain’t no Vaultie.” Your reply is instant, but the edge in your voice has Cooper stepping a little faster down the short hallway. He reemerges to the sight of a suspiciously dressed man leaning against the wood beam beside your table, a little too close for comfort. 

“Sure you are, darlin’. I can tell by lookin’ at’chya.” The man’s face is half-covered by a bandanna, and a pair of sand goggles are pushed up on his forehead, “Like they say.. everything’s… softer.”

There’s suddenly a hand landing on your shoulder, and Cooper sees red. His gun is pulled before he knows it, leveling at the man’s forehead. 

“Hands off the girl.” He growls. 

On closer inspection the man is probably close to the age you appear. Above the bandanna, weatherbeaten skin turns into frizzy ginger hair. He’s wearing a typical duster type coat, and the goggles are leaving red marks in his forehead. Cooper decides he’s taken shits more attractive than him. 

Probably smarter, too. 

“Fuck off, Ghoul.” Is the reply Cooper receives, sending  a flash of white-hot anger through his already irradiated body. “I wasn't talkin’ to you.”

It was all too common, being brushed off. At this point in his life, it actually brings a smirk to his face. Your mouth is even tipping up at the edges, having had many interactions with the can of worms this guy was prying open. 

“Listen man, I think you should let it go.” You warn and try to stand from the broken chair you had been carefully perching on. The red-head doesn’t relent, and pushes you back down into the chair. It wobbles dangerously as Cooper stomps closer. The movement prompts your captor to pull his own gun. It’s a crudely made pipe pistol, but able to shoot flying projectiles into your brains nonetheless.

“Get your goddamn hands off her before I decorate that wall with your fuckin’ skull.” Cooper yanks the hammer back on his pistol, hesitating at your close proximity.

The redhead pulls his bandanna down and Cooper watches you lean away as you recognize the scent and characteristics of a Fiend. His teeth are hanging loosely at crooked angles, and the pock marks around his mouth from scratching his skin open drip blood and serous fluid. His gun is trained on Cooper, but he freezes when he sees the Ghoul shift forward. 

“Ah ah ah. How’d you like me to put a bullet in her instead?” The Fiend tugs you to your feet and nuzzles at your hair as he presses the barrel of his gun to your ribs. “I’d love a taste myself.”

The suffocating need to keep you safe and at his side fills Cooper’s corroded veins as you scowl at the Fiend whose nose is pressed dangerously close to your cheek with rotten teeth bared. Rage ignites from the anger he’s already feeling. 

BANG. 

Cooper’s watching when the red spray of blood washes over half the saloon, but still doesn’t quite comprehend what’s happened. His gun didn’t fire, but the scent of ignited powder fills the air. You fall to the floor along with your captor, and the aforementioned rage boils over. He holsters his gun and scrambles to pull you away in the chaos.  

Thankfully, a quick once-over shows you to have no injuries, but the same can’t be said for your attacker. A foot away the Fiend lies still, about five pounds lighter from the gaping hole in his chest. Gore from his wound is splattered thick across your face and neck. Your eyes are pinched closed to avoid anything unsightly entering them, and you lash out blindly when Cooper grasps your arms. 

“Let me go, you rotten bastard!” The Ghoul catches your right hand before it can hook into his jaw, “I’ll kill you myself.”

“Quit squealin’ sunshine, it’s me.” Cooper growls

While he’s getting a handle on your flailing limbs, a shadow covers the both of you. Cooper glances up at the one-eyed old woman who’s sawed-off shotgun is still smoking in her left hand. 

“I know your brain is shrunken and all, but next time take the shot sooner.” She bites. “And feel free to clean up my damn bar.”

Cooper is torn between staring at the older woman- Sparrow, he thinks-  and trying to contain your squirming. He’s not too fragile to admit he really doesn’t want to take a punch from you right now, so he wipes the back of his hand across your eyes and tugs you to sit up beside him. 

“Cooper?”

He huffs a laugh at your incredulous tone and flicks away the remnants of blood littering your skin “The one and only. Open your eyes.”

They flicker open slowly, and you pout at the blood congealing on your clothes. “I just got these pants.”

Cooper sets a hand on your thigh and squeezes gently. “I’ll buy you a new pair. S’Long as you promise not to get Fiend all over those ones too.”

You thrust an elbow into his ribs at the jab and climb to your feet. Cooper follows with a dramatic groan. 

“Old man.” You tease over your shoulder, observing the carnage from Sparrow’s well-aimed shot. A kick to the corpses’ ribs follows, sending a splatter of blood across Cooper’s pants. You shoot him an insincerely apologetic look. “She’s right, you know.”

The Ghoul follows your gaze to Sparrow, who’s hollering at any remaining patrons that dare tread too close to the mess, damning them for tracking blood around the bar. 

“‘Bout what?” 

You lean into his space, the scent of blood thick in the air. “Take the damn shot sooner.”

Cooper grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward in a hard kiss. The blood transfers easily onto his lips, and he licks it off while pulling away. “Fucker deserved more than one shot.”

Possessiveness floods his mind and he squeezes the soft flesh beneath his fingers. 

“I’da strung him up by his balls if I got my hands on him.” He mutters, tracing another finger through the blood and popping it into his mouth. “After grabbin’ onto you like that.”

You lean into his chest and let a smile curl the corners of your lips up. “All for little ol’ me?”

The Ghoul pinches your bloody cheek. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

-------------------

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

#fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x f!reader #The Ghoul x Reader #the Ghoul x you #cooper howard x oc #fallout tv series #lucy maclean #walton goggins #fallout fiends #possessive!cooper howard #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #ghouls deserve love too

[kaninchen-reblogs]

okay dont get me wrong, i dont think FFXIV is a bad game, but as a long-time GW2 player, I am constantly baffled at how FFXIV is considered a superior MMO. like im still gonna play FFXIV because I am, for the most part, enjoying myself enough to justify the cost of the subscription. but damn, i really think GW2 has spoiled me.

like, the only major thing that FFXIV has a leg up on compared to GW2 is the social aspects, like going to venues or finding folks to talk to, which is one of the things the game is (in)famous for. but at that point, its not the game drawing me back in, so much as the fact that it has a large enough community to support a thriving digital nightclub scene.

#kanny says things #gw2 #ffxiv #sorry if this is like. a controversial opinion. #but ive been having some pretty Rough(tm) experiences while playing FFXIV's story quests lately #that ive never had in GW2 at any point #there are definitely things FFXIV does better dont get me wrong #the crafting and gathering minigames are more interesting and the glamour dresser system is great (though i wish they'd add more slots) #but i swear its like... so many mechanics in FFXIV feel... /hostile/ to the player #and thats on top of the players themselves being hostile too #getting real tired of queueing up with egotistical mentors with sticks so far up their asses that they make the seattle space needle blush #social community? pretty damn good. ive made a lot of friends at the venues and nightclubs ive gone to in ffxiv #the actual game itself? i must have the worst luck in the world or something. i reported SIX separate people today for toxic behavior #and i only ran 3 dungeons today. so let that sink in for a bit.

[seonghwaddict]

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #ateez #ateez x reader #song mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi reactions #mingi imagines #mingi smut #mingi fluff #mingi angst #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez smut

[signedkoko]

(separate) lucifer and striker with an s/o who fell from the heavens headcanons!! the more closer they get, the more they realize their s/o was one of the angels on the council but didn’t condone the extermination — of which, they were casted down to hell.

Lucifer | Striker X Reader [Romantic]

In which they know you are a fallen angel, but not the extent to which you protected hell. Reader is genderneutral.

Lucifer could sense your presence quite fast

But only because you weren't an exterminator—no, you were something far stronger

It pained him to see a new angel cast down, the first since he was, bloodied and caught in the fiery pit you'd have to call home

He understood you must have been an angel that came along after him, though, because he didn't recognize you

Either way, Lucifer offered you a place to stay and let you adjust to life in hell through his lens—a safe house where demons couldn't bother you as much

Of course, he also wanted to make sure the news of your existence didn't get out

He could only imagine the kinds of people who might want to get their hands on a fresh angel

Even though he was cast down himself, Lucifer is very flattered that you know him and that you speak so highly of him

You quickly worm your way into his heart, and he loves talking to you a lot about his past and all the things he kept buried within him

Even down here, you still seemed happy, although a tad uneasy

He won't pressure you for your backstory too much, but with his knowledge of heaven he is able to gather that you were at least a mid-ranking angel on the council

Your position exactly, he wasn't sure

He only found out after he spoke about his daughter's plan with the hotel

" Thats a wonderful idea! They may cast me down for demanding an end to extermination, but I won't let them ruin your daughters redemption plans. "

You dropped it so casually that he almost missed it, swooning at how supportive of Charlie you were

Actually chokes

Please give him a moment to catch his breath because, wait, really?

That explains a lot, at least

Of course, heaven would cast down the most beautiful of angels just for being kind to even the most damned beings

That same anger within him roars back to life, both for you being shut down and for how he, too, was treated in heaven

He'd make sure your life was far better here, no matter what it took

Being a fallen angel is already an extremely worrisome background for Striker, especially following his hate for royalty

Not that a fallen angel is royalty, but the power dynamic is hard for him to get over, as guilty as he feels now for holding it against you

When you first met, he saved you from another bounty hunter

Saved is the wrong word

He stole you so he could get a prize himself

But it all backfired when you were just so kind and curious, and offering you up to some terrible people didn't feel like the right move

Striker told himself he'd hold onto you until he knew the true value of an angel, but that may have just been him stalling for time

Either way, your charm worked wonders, and now he was stuck with the most attention-grabbing partner in all of hell

Oh well, he knew he could protect you

While he was curious about your life in heaven, Striker was extremely used to not asking questions about others past

But the more he knew, the more he wanted to know

Every few months, you'd tell a story that revealed a new interesting piece of information, things that made him wonder what you had to have done to be so harshly cast down

It all made sense when he puzzled it together one afternoon, when you were particularly fond of your past memories

" I hope Em isn't in trouble too. "

" Why so? "

" Well, she also thought killing demons was pretty bad... "

" Of course, hun. "

As usual he nods along with you before he freezes and jumps out of his chair

" Hol on now, what? "

Striker is able to puzzle things together fast, and he's not sure if he's more pissed at the angels above you or if he's surprised you felt that way

He'd always assumed no angels thought good of demons, but this changed things

Next extermination, he wants to have a hand at capturing one of those winged fuckers and seeing if he can force some more out of them

Author's Note - DEVIL FINALLY I GOT TO UR REQ!!! More Striker content, love to see it- and ofc Lucifer, who I know is about to be eaten up by every person in this god forsaken community. Thank you for requesting 🖤

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #lucifer #lucifer x reader #striker #striker x reader

[videovamptramp]

foolish one

// ellie is one of the biggest players on campus, and reader just so happens to be the only girl immune to ellie’s charm. at least, that’s what she thought. //

warnings: fuckgirl!ellie, reader is a bit difficult, ellie is a simp for r but also a huge womanizer, this is angsty cause ellie and reader are both dumb fucks <3

a/n: part 2 of heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and i) is coming sooon, but until then here’s an ellie fic i wrote a few months ago <3

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

you were known at jackson university for being a good girl. sure, you’ve been to your handful of frat parties, who hasn’t? but you always kept your grades up, and made sure you never hooked up with any of the rich wannabe’s here. not because you thought you were better than anyone, no never that— mainly because you’ve worked too damn hard to get out of your shitty neighborhood to let all of your progress get ruined by a broken heart. so you refused to date or even flirt. you had friends and you were known for being vibrant and kind, but the second someone crossed a line you’d shut them down. you could be colder than ice when you wanted to be, and as sensitive as a baby at times, but you always knew how to keep yourself together. you always kept your heart safe.

maybe that’s what attracted ellie to you so badly. the fact that you weren’t easy, and how unaffected you were by whoever showed interest in you. she’d never heard about any of the jocks or frat boys hooking up with you, and the stories she has heard she knew weren’t true. you are far too much of a good girl for that. that’s exactly what makes ellie want to ruin you. god, she seems to always notice how cute you look in those tight pants, or how beautiful your hair looks each day. she even noticed how you cut it a few months ago; nobody else did because you only cut a few inches, and when ellie complimented you on it, you actually blushed. the interaction gave the brunette hope that she had a chance.

when ellie first approaches you, it’s because she needs help in her english literature class. she normally has excessive skills when it comes to talking to girls; she’s nearly slept with half the cheer team, started drama throughout the schools debate club because she slept with three members, and there were even rumors going around about her and one of the hot professors at the school. you knew ellie williams was nothing but trouble; but there was something in those evergreen orbs that caused you to soften whenever she was near. she’d smile or blush sheepishly, and it would make your stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way that terrified you.

so when ellie asks for your help, you instinctively say yes. that’s how you end up meeting ellie in the campus library every thursday for a study session. though, it’s the fourth session and each time ellie seems to get more and more side tracked. she can’t help it; the weather is getting hotter, and those tight jeans you’ve been alternating between throughout the winter turn into tight denim shorts. that black long sleeve top you’re wearing, hugs your body just right. ellie can’t help but let her eyes roam down. you notice every time. whenever she’d look at you, her eyes would trail you up and down, and then back up to meet your gaze. she’d lick her lips and flash you that grin that made your knees weak. though you had to continuously remind yourself that her grin probably makes every girl around here weak.

“you going to jesse’s party tonight?” ellie asks hopefully, and you shake your head. “no, i have plans with joey tonight.” you confess and ellie tenses up. “joey? frat boy joey?” she asks, and you can hear the clear disdain in her voice. “yeah, he needs help studying. like you. he’s coming here after you leave.” you explain and ellie purses her lips. she doesn’t want you to be alone with joey. the library is empty and her stomach sinks as she thinks about how pretty you look tonight. “maybe i can stay extra, just so you don’t have to deal with him alone.” the offer hangs there for a moment, and it shocks you. “why wouldn’t i want to deal with him? it’s only an hour, and he doesn’t seem too bad.” you say uncertainly, though you don’t want to tell her you’d prefer not to be alone with him. you thought the library would be a little more full tonight, but the fact that there’s a frat party tells you nobody’s going to be worried about studying.

maybe that’s why joey agreed so quickly. “he’s just a creep. i’d rather you not be alone with him.” ellie states and you feel your heart lurch in an unrecognizable way. “careful, williams, it sounds like you care.” you taunt, and she stares at you with those intense green eyes. “what if i do?” she asks, and your breath gets caught in your windpipe as you lose all train of thought. “i mean we’re friends now, right? i’m allowed to care about you.” she blurts out, and you chew on your bottom lip. you’ve never heard about ellie williams being friends with any girls. except for dina who’s her roommate, but she’s dating jesse. you shrug, “i guess we are friends… fine, you can stay.” you give in, turning away before noticing her relieved expression. “but what about the party?” you question uncertainly, and she shrugs, “i’d rather be here.” she admits, and that stupid knot in your stomach returns again.

for the next few weeks you and ellie get ironically close. your library study sessions end up moving to your dorm, and ellie meets your roommate michelle. the blonde is crazy and a party animal, but it turns out you’ve both been friends since middle school. you’re so carefree in your dorm, and the posters and pictures on your wall show ellie you’re actually an extremely outgoing person, regardless of how you try to portray yourself. every time she learns something about you, she falls deeper for you. whenever she makes you laugh, her heart lurches and she can’t help but stare at you. she’s never felt this way with anyone else.

though it doesn’t take you long to bring up all of ellie’s rendezvous. “c’mon ellie, cat and katherine in the same week?? they’re friends! what did you expect?” you ask, giggling mercilessly as she tells you why cat and katherine got suspended last month. she rubs the back of her neck, her cheeks reddening. “i didn’t realize they’d tell each other!” she responds and you raise a brow. “seriously?? girls have bigger mouths than guys when it comes to hook ups!” you tell her, and she smirks. “do you?” she inquires tantalizingly, and you roll your eyes. “i don’t hook up.” you answer simply, causing her to smirk. “or you just don’t kiss and tell.” she points out, your cheeks flushing at the insinuation.

“no, i really don’t hook up. i think it’s pointless to sleep with someone you don’t actually have a connection with. meaningless sex doesn’t sound appealing to me.” you explain, and she blinks a few times. you shake your head quickly, realizing how that sounded. you didn’t want to offend her, so you rush to add on, “not that there’s anything wrong with it!!” you save yourself and she laughs. “hey, don’t stop on my account. i mean hooking up is fun, but that’s all it is; you’re right, it doesn’t mean anything.” she reveals, but she doesn’t tell you how glad she is to know you don’t hook up. she knows how hypocritical that would sound.

“would you at least consider dating?” she asks curiously, and you purse your lips. “probably not.” you respond, “it’d only get in the way of my studies.” you add while she only nods. “oh. so if i asked you on a date you’d say no?” she questions smoothly; your cheeks feel as though they’re on fire. “i’d definitely say no. especially when you were just bragging about ‘bagging’ cat and katherine in the same week.” your face expression is serious, but she can see in your eyes there’s traces of hurt mixed in your orbs. “but those are just hookups. you said it yourself they don’t mean anything.” she counterpoints, and you frown. it means something to me, the words are hanging off your tongue. but it shouldn’t mean anything to me, you think. she shouldn’t mean anything to you. she’s a player. a known player, with a reputation for ruining every girl she touches. why would i even risk it?

“if they didn’t mean anything to you, i certainly won’t either.” you argue, and she blinks at you, staring at you as if you’ve grown an extra head. “what do you mean? you’re different, you’re the prettiest girl at this place.” she admits, and you feel the blood rise to your face, “how many girls have you told that one to? seriously els, let’s get back to studying, this essay isn’t going to write itself.” you try to shut down the argument, and she deflates a bit. it’s not as though she has any more defense to her argument. she knows you’re right, and she knows she made her reputation herself.

“can you believe it, d?? she said she’d say no if i asked her out on a date!” ellie rants at the bar over the loud music. dina raises a brow, traces of amusement laced into her features. “didn’t she say it was because of all the girls you go through? i mean, i know i’m your best friend, ellie, but that’s a valid reason not to get involved with someone.” she shrugs, making ellie’s eyes widen in offense. “seriously?! who’s side are you on??” the brunette asks, making dina laugh in disbelief. “certainly not yours! because of you, rachel and carina were arguing all throughout my sociology lesson.” dina grumbles, and ellie sighs as she lays her head on the bar counter, squishing her forehead against the cool marble surface.

“she’s never going to want me.” ellie groans pathetically, and dina rolls her eyes. “wow, pull yourself together. if you really want her to want you, you need to put in actual effort.” dina starts, her tone stringent and up for no debates. ellie opens her mouth to say something, but the raven haired girl beats her to it. “seriously, this can’t be like all of your half assed attempts at getting into someone’s pants. if you really want her, prove it.” dina says sternly, and ellie sits up, flashing her a questioning look. “what am i supposed to do!? i’ve never done this sort of thing before… i just— i don’t know how to get out of the friendzone. i’ve never been in the friendzone with someone i actually want.” ellie grumbles, and dina hums in amusement. “for one, stop hooking up with every girl you find attractive. being easily accessible to other girls isn’t as hot as you think.” dina slaps ellie’s back a little too hard, causing her roommate/best friend to glare at her.

“ow!” “and actually make an effort to get to know her. text her, ask about her day, her favorite bands and artists. you said she’s smart, does she like books? ask her about her favorite book and major.” dina explains, “what if she doesn’t want to tell me those things? we’ve only been friends for two months, and she literally only talks about studying.” ellie says, her tone laced with insecurity. “y/n is nice. i’ve talked to her a few times at the library. she’ll tell you those things as soon as you ask. all you have to do is put in effort till she notices.” dina assures her, and ellie reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her phone.

“what are you doing?” dina asks uncertainly, “texting y/n about her day and favorite band and all that bullshit.” ellie slurs as she begins smashing her thumbs on the keyboard, and dina’s eyes widen. imagine your surprise when you wake up at midnight to a bunch of texts from ellie, asking you about your day, and your favorite books. the grammatical errors in the message don’t fail to make you smile, and you can’t even fight the way your heart warms.

you: go to sleep, ellie.

ellie: i can’t stop thinking about you.

you: think about me while you sleep. it’s late.

ellie: i was at the bar with dina tonight, just got to my room. gonna dream about you, princess <3

you roll your eyes at her cheesy message. of course she’s intoxicated. you have a small smile on your lips as you type back a single message.

you: goodnight ellie. don’t forget to keep a water bottle by your bed for the morning.

you aren’t sure why ellie williams seems to suddenly be interested in you. it’s a strange feeling to be wanted by one of the most wanted girls in school. you can’t help but wonder if she’s truly interested, or if you’re accusations are correct and she’s just trying to get into your pants. you sigh as you put your phone down and try to go back to sleep. thoughts of ellie plague your mind, and you hate the way her smile makes you feel all warm inside. you’re trying your absolute hardest to not feel anything for ellie williams, but it doesn’t seem to be working out very well for you. especially not when she drunk texts you the cutest things.

the texts don’t stop there. over the next few weeks ellie begins to text you daily, nonstop. she’ll send you memes, or posts that remind her of you. she’ll even send pictures of puppies she sees when she’s out in town. there was a night where you were reading, and ellie sent you a voice memo of her playing guitar and lightly singing a song she wrote. her voice made you feel as though your heart was about to burst right out of your chest. it’s been three and a half months of trying to ignore these feelings in your belly every time the brunette is near. three months of trying to keep your blush at bay, and not laugh at her horrible puns.

“i didn’t know you could sing like that.” you pipe up one day as you’re revising her essay for her english class. her cheeks turn the most adorable shade of pink, and you have to bite your bottom lip to stop from smiling. “i don’t normally let anyone know that i can sing… but you’re special to me.” she clarifies, and you stare at her, getting lost in her emerald eyes. “maybe one day you can come to my dorm, and i’ll sing for you in person.” she flirts, and you just now realized how close she’s sitting. the blood rushes to your cheeks and you have to force yourself to look away, breaking eye contact. “when will your excessive flirting ever end?” you ask her, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

ellie smirks, “when you finally agree to give me a chance.” she declares, and you can’t help but frown. “a chance? a chance at what, ellie? to get in my pants and then never talk to me again?” you ask, sounding slightly upset. ellie shakes her head quickly, “no! y/n you know i’d never do that to you.” she tries, and you sigh. “no, i don’t. the truth is, i like you and it scares me, ellie… but the way you treat girls scares me more.” you whisper, unable to look at her, ellie feels her heart sinking in her chest. she feels herself responding with one of the only few emotions she knows; anger. “no offense, but how would you even know how i treat women?” she asks, and you can hear the clear offense in her tone.

“i already told you that girls talk, ellie. i know what i’ve heard from them, and what i hear from you is no better.” you don’t even look at her as you continue revising her essay on her laptop. “look, you misspelled ‘continuity’.” you say, swiftly trying to change the subject, but ellie doesn’t let up. “the way i treat girls i don’t care about is different. i care about you. i could treat you so well, and take you on dates.” she begins rambling, and you look up at her, your eyes unamused. “have you ever even been on a date, ellie?” you ask unable to contain a chuckle. “well— erm— no, but i bet i could plan one. a better date than you’ve ever been on.” she tells you, leading you to tilt your head to the side in order flash her a curious look. “is that so? well, maybe you should practice by actually taking your next conquest on a date.” you suggest sassily, and she deflates.

i don’t want to date anyone who isn’t you, she thinks, but chooses not to press any further. instead she goes back to her room after you finish revising her essay, and even though she doesn’t text you throughout the rest of the evening, you still receive a goodnight text from her. a simple message shouldn’t make you smile or give you butterflies, but it does. you respond to her, and go to sleep, thoughts of ellie freaking williams on your mind, and you have to continually remind yourself that you’re not the only poor girl thinking about her tonight. you think about the advice you gave her, to take some poor other girl out on a date… but the thought of that makes your heart ache. you don’t want ellie to date or hookup with anyone else, but that’s wrong. ellie can do whatever she likes, you just wish she only wanted to do you.

your disheartening thoughts from last night linger all throughout the morning. you don’t text ellie back, and when she asks to hang out, you don’t even answer. you’re starting to realize the main problem is you’ve been spending so much time with her, and the closer you two get, the more you fall for those freckle coated cheeks, and evergreen eyes. you can’t help how you feel, and you know ellie only flirts with you because that’s the way she is. it doesn’t mean anything to her, and that’s what hurts the worst. to her you’re just some other girl, and to you she’s starting to take up spaces in your mind like she owns it.

it doesn’t take long for ellie to find you on a bench outside of the university after your classes. you’re reading some stephen king novel that’s pretty worn, “you’ve been hard to find.” ellie’s soft voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up to see her standing there with a button up collared shirt, and those jeans that make her look cuter than anyone you’ve ever seen. “i’ve been looking for you. and texting you.” the brunette says, and you shrug. “i’ve been busy.” you murmur and she frowns as she takes a seat next to you. “too busy to hang out with me?” she asks, and you shrug. “you’re a little distracting.” you admit as you wave your book at her.

she smirks, and it makes your belly flip flop. “you calling me distracting?” ellie teases, and you let a giggle escape your lips. the delightful sound causes ellie to grin. “yeah, you are. in the worst way.” you joke, and she throws her head back and laughs. she stares at you for a moment, “i have a date tonight.” she admits, and you tense up. “oh really?” you question, trying not to sound too interested. “yup. angela from kappa sorority.” she explains and you chuckle, “a sorority girl?” you ask, and ellie can hear the slight judgment in your voice. “well, the girl i want won’t give me the time of day, and i’m trying to prove i can do more than just sleep with a girl.” she explains simply, and you roll your eyes.

“where are you taking her?” you inquire, and ellie shrugs, “probably maria’s diner downtown.” she says and you nod. “nice. hope you have fun.” you sound pretty genuine, but ellie can see a trace of hurt in your features. you’re trying to ignore the way your stomach sinks at the thought of her smiling at some pretty girl, and paying for her dinner. you hate thinking about it. “maybe we can hang out before? get some studying in?” she asks hopefully, she just wants to spend as much time as she can with you. “can’t. i have to do homework before i help joey and kayla with their project for an english seminar.” you explain, and ellie only nods in a bit of disappointment.

“will you be free tomorrow?” she asks and you shrug, the thought of having to hear about how good her date went doesn’t sound too appealing. “i’ll text you.” you weakly respond and she nods as she stands up, flashing you a questioning look. “uh, okay…” she wants to say something about how upset you seem, but she doesn’t want to press. “i’ll see you later then.” she adds, and you only nod as she walks away. you try not to watch her leave, but you can’t help it. you release a ragged breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “i’m so screwed.”

throughout the night you ignore ellie’s texts, trying not to think about her date. the next day you begin to avoid ellie as if she has the plague. it doesn’t take her long to notice. you’d leave her on read, and she checked the library but you weren’t there. all of the benches around the university that you’d usually sit at to read were empty, and you weren’t in the cafeteria. that’s how ellie ends up in front of your dorm room, knocking lightly yet adamantly. when you open it you’re wearing a pair of tight flare jeans, a pair of converse, and that cute cropped sweater that fits you well.

“e-ellie what are you doing here?” you ask, obviously surprised to see her. “you’ve been ignoring me. why?” she asks as she pushes her way into your room. your roommate is sitting on her bed, and she raises a brow, “should i give you guys privacy?” michelle asks and you nod, “yes please.” you breathe out, and the blonde nods as she gets up and reaches for her phone and purse. “i’m gonna bring lunch. for three in case you’re still here when i get back.” michelle tells ellie before she leaves you two alone. the atmosphere is tense, and you can’t even look at her.

“how was your date?” you inquire, ignoring her previous question. “is that why you’ve been ignoring me? because i went on a date?” she asks in disbelief, making you scoff. “i haven’t been ignoring you, i’ve been busy.” you lie through your teeth, and now it’s ellie’s turn to scoff. “seriously? you expect me to believe that? every day for the last four months we’ve been hanging out, and now suddenly you’re busy?” she asks, her tone stern and angry. you roll your eyes opting not to respond. this only adds to her frustration, “i mean, what gives? i thought we were friends.” she points out, her tone more fragile now, and it makes you pause. your hard expression falters, but you can only stare at her incredulously. “friends?” you ask, your tone skeptical and hurt, “a friend wouldn’t endlessly flirt with me, and pin me in the same category as every other girl in this school. they don’t say all this stuff that’s supposed to have meaning, and then go on a date with some other girl. friends don’t look at each other the way we do, ellie!” you snap and she’s staring at you with wide eyes, while her breath is lodged in her windpipe.

“you like me.” she blurts out, her tone laced with realization. you blink, “you like me, like me.” she declares, and you release a shaky sigh. “i do. but i can’t afford to, ellie. you’re not the kind of person i’m supposed to be with. i need someone who’s ready for commitment, and who has a whole lot of patience. you don’t have either of those things.” you begin to ramble, and ellie frowns. “why do you always make me seem like i’m a terrible person?? is that really what you think of me? that i’m so shit, i don’t even deserve a chance to show you i can be better?” she asks, and the hurt in those eyes makes you feel tremendously guilty. but you don’t let up, “you’re a wonderful person, ellie. you’re funny, and smart, and you always make me smile… but i don’t think you’d be a good girlfriend. i’m sorry. i think it’s best if we don’t talk anymore.” you say, your voice low and distant.

ellie stares at you in disbelief. “so that’s it?? you’re just never gonna talk to me again?” she questions angrily, and you look down at your shoes. “i’m sorry ellie.” you whisper, and she stares at you with a look of pure betrayal. “you know, i may not know what it’s like to be in love or know how to be a perfect girlfriend, but i would do anything you ask. i would never hurt you intentionally. so, you just lost someone who actually gives a shit about you.” she hisses venomously, as she turns to leave, and you have to clamp down on your bottom lip as you try to ignore the tears that are threatening to leave your eyes.

ellie leaves but you can’t watch her go. you don’t want that memory engraved into your brain. her words are all you can hear replaying in your head, and it isn’t until you can taste the salt from your tears that you realize you’re crying. you haven’t cried over a girl since high school, and now you feel like a fool for letting ellie get so close. you didn’t even let her touch you and you still ended up broken-hearted like her string of other women. but this was different, and it’s taken you this long to realize it. ellie didn’t even try to get into your pants, yet it still hurts just as much, maybe more. you can’t help but feel guilty for being so harsh, but how could you possibly give ellie a chance to break your heart for real? you’re terrified of the way you feel about her.

you: i’m sorry.

ellie leaves you on read after that, and two days go by with you thinking about her consistently. she doesn’t try to show up at your door anymore, or go out of her way to look for you on campus. ellie is now actively avoiding you, the same way you were avoiding her. the guilt and sadness was gnawing you up inside, and you couldn’t fight the urge to make things right. that’s how you ended up at jesse’s frat party. you’re wearing a tight white cropped top that ties around the back of your neck, and light blue denim levi short shorts. your hair was curled perfectly in hopes you’d see ellie tonight and get to make things right. you realize that if you don’t give her chance, you’re going to be heartbroken over all of the ‘what if’s’.

“hey y/n! i didn’t think you’d come tonight!” dina shouts over the loud music, as she stands in front of you, she has a strange smile on her face. she looks almost nervous. you smile back, choosing not to dwell on it. “hey d! yeah, i’m looking for ellie, have you seen her?” you ask and dina’s smile falters, “uh, she’s— she’s around.” dina lies horribly. as if on cue you move a bit to the side, and see what she was covering with her body by standing in front of you.

madeline from one of the sorority houses was hanging off ellie’s neck, and the brunette’s hands were all over madeline. your heart breaks at the sight; you have a few classes with the blonde and she’s on the cheer team. she’s drop dead stunning. that’s when ellie leans in and kisses the cheerleader in a way that cause the final bits of your heart to crack into little pieces. suddenly you feel like an absolute fool for coming here tonight.

“y/n…” dina tries, and you clear your throat, shaking your head, pulling yourself out of your thoughts. “do me a favor and don’t tell her i was here, okay?” you ask pleadingly and dina flashes you a concerned look. “please?” you nearly beg, your voice cracking slightly, causing her to sigh. she nods reluctantly and you rush off, making your way for the exit you just came in through. you try not to cry, and thankfully your roommate/best friend is at that stupid party trying to get laid. you let it all out as soon as you get to your dorm; your mascara’s running, and you’re sure you sound as pathetic as you look. the image of one of the prettiest girls in school hanging off ellie’s neck is now burned into your mind. you should’ve known better than to think you could actually make things work with ellie williams.

#ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x reader jealous #ellie williams x female reader #fanfic #lesbian fanfic #lgbtq #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader angst #texting with ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #jealousy #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #fuck!girl ellie #fuck!girl ellie williams #player!ellie #simp!ellie

[xan-from-space]

Damn, the Ember Island Players were actually kind of radical, weren't they? The more I think about it, the more it feels like the only way it makes sense in-universe is if being Fire Nation propaganda wasn't the point of their play at all. Aside from a barely tacked on ending where Ozai kills Aang, the play is remarkably sympathetic to the Avatar and a bunch of enemies of the Fire Nation, even framing them as being heroes. Even at points in the story where theyre literally killing Fire Nation soldiers, the narrative still seems to be on their side; they're the underdogs, the relatable ones. Its true that the Fire Nation values strength, but still, you'd expect that in a propaganda play they would be portrayed as at least a little bit more sympathetic... And sure, to some extent the gaang's characters could be seen as defamatory caricutures (the slander on Iroh specifically was probably intentional), but that also might be due to the Players getting a lot of their information from the cabbage man, someone who actively hates the gaang and only ever really sees the worst of them. (And notably, that also means that the Players had worked with an Earth Kingdom merchant to produce the play.)

Mocking the gaang is also just clearly not the point of the play or what people are there for. Sokka's actor says that he's constantly being approached by fans; people genuinely love these characters. The gaang have built entire dedicated fanbases in the Fire Nation because of this play. Honestly, the fact that they're on a remote island is probably the only reason they're able to perform the play the way it is. I imagine it would get shut down pretty quickly on the mainland. Considering all the propaganda in the Fire Nation that we've seen so far, I wouldn't be surprised if the ending was only written that way because it's illegal to write a story where the Fire Lord doesnt win. The play reads less like propaganda and more like 'we're doing the bare minimum to get this story past the censors.'

I'm really curious about what it's like behind the scenes for the Ember Island Players. Are their shows just simple, shlocky entertainment, or could they also be deliberate political commentary? With no recording technology, a play is easier to slip under the radar than something like a book: it's impermanent, stays in one theatre, and performances can be easily tweaked if, say, Fire Nation royalty happens to come by. It's interesting to me that Ursa seemed to like them, while young Zuko had a disdain for them, saying they 'butchered' the story of Love Amongst the Dragons; in all likelihood the version of the story Zuko grew up with in the palace was heavily propaganda-filtered itself. Although, to be fair, they're arguably just not very good playwrights. When it comes to the characterization, I do think some of it only seems bad because we know what the actual characters are like, but a lot of it is just bad writing clearly meant for cheap entertainment. For example, they sexualize Katara quite a bit (and there's other, better analysis out there I've seen that examines how they fetishize her as a Water Tribe girl). And, of course, all of the characters are reduced to shallow and stereotypical comedy.

Still, I think they're worth commending for doing their research and telling a story about enemies of the state that's both sympathetic and surprisingly accurate to actual events, if not the characters' personalities, amidst the Fire Nation's rampant propaganda and misinformation. From the little amount of information about them we can extract from the show, they seem like honestly very interesting people. They're walking this tightrope line between being very close to the heart of the Fire Nation but also separate from it; between being cheap, inconsequential entertainment and being a source of actual news for Ember Island citizens; between telling the underdog story about a ragtag group of children and still trying to make it look like Fire Nation propaganda. I'm not trying to make any big argument on whether they were 'actually good people' or whatever, I just want to know more about them. I kind of wish we could see their production of Love Amongst the Dragons now...maybe I'll write something about them someday

#I wrote this in a haze after randomly catching the episode while my sister was watching it #I'm so fascinated by the inner lives of these people. What does it look like to write and produce these plays? #What does their day-to-day look like? How do the actors feel about their characters? #Actually if anyone has any fanfic recommendations in this vein please tell me #atla #avatar the last airbender #ember island players #the ember island players #atla analysis #zuko #uncle iroh #katara #ursa atla #cabbage man #cabbage merchant #fire nation

[solarmorrigan]

Hi! Could you possibly do 'You don't have to stay.' With Steddie from the angst writing prompt, please? Thank you in advance 😊

Hi! My apologies again for taking two weeks to get to this, but thank you for sending it! This one was fun to write :D

[No warnings; happier ending this time, I promise]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

Eddie feels like an idiot.

He just – he got so wrapped up in everything. In the way Steve has been keeping him company every evening, in the way they have dinner together and play cards together and watch movies together and fucking fall asleep together (Eddie and Wayne’s new place is bigger than their old one, but it’s not like the government sprung for a house with a goddamn guest room or anything). He just forgot that Steve isn’t really meant to be part of his life.

No, Eddie just has Steve on loan.

He is abruptly reminded of this fact one afternoon when he hits Family Video with the intent to pester Steve (and maybe even rent a movie) and instead stumbles right into the tail end of a conversation.

Maryellen Someone-or-Other from the year below Eddie (he’s never really seen the point in remembering names unless they’re a friend or a foe; he figures his brainspace has better uses than the names of people who don’t give a shit about him one way or the other) is leaning over the counter, making eyes at Steve. She’s practically batting her eyelashes and resting her weight in a way that puts the low-scooped neckline of her shirt prominently on display.

“Are you sure?” Maryellen is asking, bottom lip pouting out in a way that is, in Eddie’s opinion, far too obvious.

“Afraid so,” Steve replies with one of his softer smiles, like he might actually be sorry. “I already have plans tonight.”

And – plans? What plans? Eddie thought Steve would be coming over to his house tonight, like pretty much every night.

But then Steve’s eyes flick up from Maryellen and catch Eddie standing stupidly in front of the doors, and his smile widens a little, becomes something happier, sillier, and – oh. Eddie’s house is the plan. Right.

“Well,” Maryellen sighs, high and put-upon, pulling Steve’s attention back to her, “maybe next time.”

“Uh, yeah.” Steve nods. “Yeah, maybe.”

Maryellen glances Steve up and down one more time—and, seriously, obvious much?—before she straightens up and sashays past Eddie and out of the store. She doesn’t even seem to have a video with her. Had she come in just to ask Steve out?

And Steve had turned her down?

It’s not like Eddie is interested in what she’s selling, but he has eyes – Maryellen Whatserface isn’t the sort of date you just turn down. Not when she’s flirting and flashing her cleavage at you over the counter of your workplace. And she especially isn’t the type of date Steve Harrington turns down, certainly not to spend an evening sitting around in Eddie’s room doing a whole lot of nothing.

Of course, that’s not how Eddie sees it – not really. They’re not doing nothing if they’re talking, if they’re sharing stories or thoughts or even just dumb jokes. Not if they’re sitting quietly together because sometimes you can only be that type of quiet with someone who gets you. Not if Eddie is strumming random notes on his guitar and Steve is humming along, almost absently, like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

It isn’t nothing to Eddie, but to Steve – well, now that Eddie thinks about it, Steve is probably just putting his life on hold so he can be a good friend to Eddie in the aftermath of all the Upside Down fuckery.

Which is very kind of him, obviously (which is apparently just the sort of person Steve actually is; sure, he complains a whole hell of a lot, but Eddie doubts if there’s a single damn thing Steve won’t do if he thinks he can help someone really in trouble), but Eddie doesn’t need him to do that. He doesn’t need any kind of pity friendship. He doesn’t need Steve to put all his shit on hold just to take care of him, only to end up resenting him because he can’t go anywhere or do anything because he’s too busy being the goddamn babysitter.

Eddie doesn’t need that.

“Hey.” Steve is the one leaning the counter now (and he doesn’t exactly have Maryellen’s assets, but damn if the position doesn’t make his shirt stretch appealingly over his chest, anyway) and making eyes at Eddie, except they’re sort of confused-and-concerned eyes, which makes sense, since Eddie still hasn’t moved out of the damn doorway. “You okay?”

“Just fine,” Eddie says, snapping back into motion. “I’m here to pick a movie for tonight.”

“Y’know, I work at the video store,” Steve says, arching one heavy brow. “I’m here right now, even. You could just let me pick something to bring home.”

Eddie almost twitches at the casual slip of the tongue – home. Like Steve doesn’t have other places to be, a better house to actually go home to.

“I could,” Eddie drawls, “but I have it on good authority—my own, in fact—that your taste in films is not to be trusted.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Just because you can’t appreciate Sly or a good underdog story–”

“Two hours of dudes punching each other, Steve.”

“That’s not all the movie was, and you know it!”

“Two hours!”

And just like that, they fall into their usual banter, but somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie can’t quite let go of what he’s been reminded of.

It follows him back home (to his home) with the movie in his hand (a decidedly non-sports-related movie) and dogs his thoughts and winds him up, and by the time Steve has gotten off work and is leaving his shoes politely by the door, Eddie is – well, he’s a little on edge.

A bit twitchy.

Maybe more than a bit.

Maybe he might be watching Steve, looking for signs that he doesn’t want to be there, that he has better places to be, that Steve regrets turning down Maryellen (if that even was her name? Now that Eddie thinks about it, it might have been Marie. Hard to say).

Maybe he watches Steve carefully as they make dinner, and as they eat, and as Steve heckles his movie choice just for the hell of it, and maybe he jumps on it a little too hard when, as the evening gets later, Steve glances at the clock and sighs.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” Eddie says, shooting for perfectly casual.

Steve, who had been partway through rubbing tiredly at his eyes (probably about time to get those contacts out; he always forgets, and Eddie is always reminding him), pauses and pulls his hand away from his face to look blearily at Eddie. “What?”

“Just, if you have other places to be, y’know?” Eddie shrugs. “You don’t have to stay.”

Steve blinks. “What other places would I be right now?”

Eddie shrugs. He’s very casual about this and not worked up at all, as evidenced by all the easy shrugging he’s doing. “Oh, I don’t know. With Maryellen, maybe? She seemed pretty interested in taking you out tonight.”

A confused sort of look is working its way onto Steve’s face, like he has no idea what the hell Eddie is talking about, like he hadn’t just turned down a date earlier today. “Do you mean Madeline?” Shit, right, that was it. “Why would I want to be with her? Dude, what the hell are you even talking about?”

“I don’t know, Steve!” Eddie snaps, tossing his arms up in hopes that it’ll get some of his nervous energy out. “I just know that you’ve been here babysitting me almost every night for weeks–”

“I’m not babysitting, what are you–”

“And I figure that maybe there’s other shit you’d rather be doing! Places to be, things to do, people to fuck, whatever.”

And– Oops.

Eddie hadn’t quite meant to let all that out. And now Steve looks offended.

“What the hell is your problem tonight?” Steve asks, sitting up from where he’d been slouching on Eddie’s bed. “Did I do something to make you think I don’t wanna be here, or what?”

“I – well – do you want to be here?” Eddie splutters. “You’re a popular guy, and you’re turning down dates to sit around in my room all night? Doesn’t check out, man!”

Unnervingly, Steve doesn’t immediately snap back. He just stares at Eddie for a long moment.

“So, what? You think I’d rather be at some high school party? Drunk off my ass? Making out with some girl who doesn’t know me or give a shit about me?” Steve finally asks, voice low and heavy. “What the hell have I done since you’ve actually gotten to know me that made you think I still want all that shit?”

Eddie opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t exactly have a specific defense.

Steve scoffs. “Did you ever think that I just want to spend time with you? That I like being here, that I like you? But fine, whatever.” He slides off the bed and stands up. “You want me to fuck off so badly, I’ll go.”

And with that, he stalks out of Eddie’s room.

Eddie is so busy reeling with the “I like you” of it all that it isn’t until he hears Steve shuffling with his shoes by the door that he manages to snap into action.

“Steve!” he calls down the hall, running full tilt for the entryway, because he doesn’t know much, but he knows he needs to stop Steve before he leaves, before some kind of irreparable damage is done.

Steve doesn’t pause, reaching for the door and pulling it open, and what Eddie means to do is step past him, put a hand on the door, keep Steve there just a little longer so they can talk.

What actually happens is that Eddie’s momentum carries him flying right past Steve, into the door, yanking the knob from Steve’s hand and slamming the whole thing shut.

“Eddie, what the fuck!” Steve exclaims, (rightfully) startled.

“I don’t actually want you to fuck off, okay?” Eddie insists, because he is a god of eloquence when under unexpected pressure. “I want… I really want the opposite of that, actually.”

Steve shoots him a disbelieving look. “So you were being a dick because you want me to stay,” he says flatly.

“Nooot exactly,” Eddie draws the words out, reaching up and twisting his fingers in his hair while he tries to think. “I was being a dick because I want you to stay but I was afraid you wouldn’t want to.”

Steve continues to stare at him. “Eddie, that makes no goddamn sense.”

“I didn’t say it did! I think we know each other well enough for you to know by now that I am barely in charge of my brain, Steve!” Eddie huffs. “I just – I don’t get why you would want to hang around here when you probably have better options.”

“No, see, that’s the part that doesn’t make sense,” Steve says, his voice going a little softer. “You thinking I wouldn’t want to stay, or that there’s anywhere better for me to be. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else. I just… want to be here with you.”

“You…” Eddie looks over at Steve, really looks, and catches the anxiety sitting in his expression, and the hopeful spark in his wide eyes, and realizes that he’s absolutely had the wrong end of the stick. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a shrug that’s just about as casual as Eddie has been all night.

“Well then.” Eddie reaches up and slides the deadbolt back into place before giving the door a little pat; its services will no longer be required. Then, before he can think better of it, he reaches out and takes Steve’s hand, threading their fingers together and giving him a little tug back towards the hall. “Come on.”

“And where are you taking me, exactly?” Steve asks, amused and something a bit like relieved.

Eddie continues pulling him down the hall, heading for his room, and tosses a grin over his shoulder. “I am taking you exactly to where we both want to be.”

And if the way Steve crowds him over the threshold and into his bedroom is to be trusted, they are perfectly on the same page.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #eddie is a disaster and we love him for it and so does steve it's fine #solar wrote #answers from solar #anonymous

[rollinouttahere]

Joyride

Yandere Strawhats + Ace x Isekai Reader

2.2k words

Part 2

Yet again, this fic is inspired by @lovelybrooke ‘s Isekai reader stories.

I also want to say thank you for all the support and kind comments on the last story I wrote! I’ve actually been working on my own yandere one piece fic that I’m hoping to start posting in a few days give or take, so if you like what I’ve written so far, keep an eye out for that! All future writings are gonna be posted on my writing blog @rollinouttahere-writes​ so go follow that blog if you’re interested!

Trying to act normal and inconspicuous in the One Piece universe was a far from easy task. Being the massive fan of the series that you were, it was damn hard to not give away that you knew all about the crew that was so generously letting you stay with them after appearing on their ship with zero explanation.

It became even harder to stay lowkey when Ace temporarily joined up with the Strawhats. All you wanted was to hug that man and tell him how loved he is and that he deserves to live just as much as anyone else, but you really couldn’t say or do any of that without looking weird. You’ll just have to settle for being extremely nice to him, which was very easy.

Ace himself was already an easy guy to get along with (now at least), but he was noticeably very interested in you. You couldn’t blame him, what with Luffy almost immediately outing your insane situation to him. He seemed incredulous at first, but warmed up to and accepted the story way faster than you expected. It didn’t take long for his questions to go from feeling like an interrogation to being genuine.

You were so busy soaking up the attention from such a beloved character that you almost missed how jealous your crewmates were getting. Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper were taking it the best. Chopper probably because he was still so new to the crew that he wasn’t all that bothered by one of them not paying as much attention to him. Usopp was too busy building Nami’s weapon to concern himself with it too much. Meanwhile, Luffy was just so happy to see Ace again that he didn’t really notice that you were spending a lot of time with him. That, and he would usually be hanging out with both of you anyways. 

The others though, oh boy did they not like this. Nami was the most blatant about it, straight up glowering at you and Ace whenever you two were too close for her liking. You’re pretty sure the only thing keeping her from up and dragging you away from him is Luffy dismissing her complaints and telling her to stop fretting over it. You love being a part of their crew, so she should quit worrying!

Sanji and Zoro were both vying for your attention in their own ways as well. Sanji suddenly wanted more help around the kitchen, insisting that he needed an extra pair of hands now that there was another mouth to feed. Given that Ace’s appetite was on par with Luffy’s, you could understand the desire for help. Zoro’s attempts were considerably less convincing. One time he wanted you to spot him while he was working out, making you laugh right in his face at the mere idea that you would be able to help him with the ridiculous weights he lifts. His face had gone bright red after you pointed it out to him, prompting him to walk away immediately, much to your amusement.

Right now, though, you weren’t with Ace. Him and Luffy were busy doing something and you didn’t want to butt in on all their time together. Instead, you were ogling Ace’s boat that was currently tied to the side of the Going Merry.

You absolutely loved the design of his ship, it was such a clever idea to use his devil fruit ability to power a steam engine and make what looks like a tiny sailboat function like a jet ski. It didn’t appear in the anime too many times but everytime it was on screen it looked so cool. 

“I wonder what it’d be like to ride that,” you quietly mused to yourself.

“Wanna find out?”

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sudden arrival of Ace. He laughed at your reaction, not a care in the world for the near heart attack he just gave you.

“Oh my God, Ace, you scared the hell out of me!” You lightly slapped at his shoulder, your other hand resting over your now racing heart.

He laughed some more, “I could tell, and I’m sorry about that.” He didn’t sound even vaguely sorry. Ace elbowed your side, “But seriously, do you want to go for a ride?”

The offer had you staring wide-eyed at him. Then the boat. Then back at him again. “Really? Are you sure?” You were desperately trying to keep your cool and not show how insanely excited you were about the idea.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t. Come on,” he hopped up onto the railing and held his hand out to you. You didn’t need to mull it over, eagerly taking hold and stepping up with him. As soon as you did, he wrapped an arm around you and was ready to jump down onto his boat when Nami started yelling.

“Woah, woah, woah, what the hell are you two doing???” Nami, who was previously pruning her trees, had abandoned the activity entirely in favor of sprinting over to where you were and grabbing onto your leg.

“(Y/N) wanted to try riding my boat, so we’re going for a little joyride, that’s all,” Ace flashed Nami a dazzling smile, not at all deterred by her interruption.

“No way! What if they fall off? That thing doesn’t look safe at all!” Nami was now pulling on you, trying to get you down from the railing.

Ace held on tighter in response, “It’s perfectly safe, it has to be. I’m a devil fruit user, remember? (Y/N) isn’t, so really, I’m in more danger on that than they are. It’s fine.”

You could tell Nami was ready to argue more, but thankfully Luffy piped up, “Don’t worry about it Nami! If Ace says it’s safe then it’s safe!” Luffy, who was perched on his special seat at the bow, came bounding over, “But I wanna go next!”

“Sure thing, Luffy, we’ll be back in a bit,” Ace was quick to jump down with you in tow, not wanting to give any of the other Strawhats a chance to object. After untying it from the Going Merry, he knelt down slightly, “Hop on my back, you’re not gonna want to have your feet down there when we get going.”

Not wanting to get set on fire, you obliged. If you weighed anything to him, he didn’t show it, simply standing up straight as soon as you were on. “Ready?”

You excitedly nod your head, holding on tight to Ace in preparation. It was a good thing too, because he decided to immediately start at the leisurely speed of what felt like mach 7. A shriek emits from your throat as you take off. You think you can hear Nami yelling something again, but couldn’t make it out over your own screaming and the noise of the steam engine roaring to life.

Ace laughed loudly at your reaction, but did slow down slightly, “Sorry about that, I just wanted to get some distance before anyone else tried to stop us.” One of his arms let go of your leg and tugged at your arms around his neck, “But would you mind easing up a bit? I won’t be able to take us back if you choke me out.” 

“Oh oops, I’m sorry!” You immediately loosened your arms and readjusted them. Accidentally strangling Ace was not something you wanted to do today. Or any day really.

He simply shrugged it off, telling you not to worry about it. It’s not like you could really hurt him. “I’m gonna speed up again, you ready for it this time?”

The second you confirm that you are, the boat lurches forward, cutting through the waves like nothing. Now that you weren’t panicking, you could properly take in the experience and thoroughly enjoy it. 

The wind was whipping through your hair and sea water misted the air, droplets clinging to both yours and Ace’s hair. He hit a particularly big wave causing the boat to go airborne for a moment before crashing back down. You found yourself laughing and cheering as Ace continued to show off, which only egged him on more.

After a while, Ace slowed to a stop and let you down from his back. “C’mere, step up on this,” he stepped to the side and motioned for you to step up onto the front of his boat. His hands rested on your hips to keep you steady, presumably not wanting to get chewed out by Nami if you came back sopping wet. 

“This is one of the best parts of being at sea,” he was staring straight ahead. “Sunsets out here are something else, you don’t get a view like this on land.”

He was completely correct, it was beautiful. Orange, red, and pink hues colored the sky and reflected gorgeously in the ocean. It was a breathtaking view, one you would remember forever.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, quietly admiring the view with nothing but the natural sounds of the ocean around you. It was nice, very peaceful. 

“What do you think about staying here?”

You tense at Ace suddenly speaking. “Like staying out here a little longer?” As lovely as this was, the others were bound to get antsy if you stayed out after dark.

“No, I mean staying here in this world,” he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms fully around you and resting his head on your shoulder to be able to see your face. “It’s nice here, right? Why not stick around? I know Luffy wants you to. Hell, I’m sure the rest of the crew does, too.”

You were taken aback by this statement, and weren’t really sure how to respond. Sure, it could be nice here when you all weren’t being hunted for sport by marines, but this wasn’t a place you could see yourself staying long term. That, and you had a life back home, you couldn’t just throw your friends and family to the wind like that.

Sucking in a breath, you searched for the nicest way to say all that. “It is nice here, but I have to go back.” You could feel his posture stiffen behind you, “Don’t get me wrong, you all have been super nice to me! It’s just that I’ve got all my friends and family back home and I miss them terribly.”

“Your family?” Ace said this so quietly that you weren’t even sure he was saying that to you. Abruptly, he straightened up, “I know! If you want a family so bad you can join the Whitebeard pirates!”

What? You joining the Whitebeard pirates? You already feel inadequate enough around the Strawhats, you can’t imagine how pathetic you would feel around those people. Of course, it would be awesome to get to meet them, but you want to keep to yourself as much as possible since you will eventually have to go back home.

While you were thinking, Ace kept going, “Pops would love you, I just know it. We haven’t gotten another sibling in a while, everyone would be psyched to meet you.” His once comforting hug was growing tighter by the second. Suffocating even.

“Ace-”

“And you already have friends with my brother’s crew, so that’s all taken care of!”

“Ace, ple-”

“Of course, I’m your friend too, but after you join I’ll be your big brother!”

“ACE!” Your yell startled him, mercifully making him let go of you. You take the opportunity to inch forward and create some distance, however minute.  “That’s,” oh, how to put this without hurting his feelings, “that’s very kind of you to offer, but I’d rather stay with the Strawhats for now.”

“Oh…” You don’t even need to turn around to know how disappointed he was by this declaration. He chuckled awkwardly, “I’m sorry about that, looks like I got a little carried away there.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” frankly, you just wanted to go back to the ship after that. The atmosphere was uncomfortable now.

After a few more seconds of silence, Ace cleared his throat and spoke again, “We should probably head back now, it’s gonna be dark soon.”

You were quick to agree and clambered onto his back, “Yeah that’s a good idea, Nami would throw a fit if we stay out much longer.” She’ll probably be mad regardless, but still.

Ace got his boat going and began the trip back. The Going Merry was a lot further away than you’d realized, it was so small that you could just barely make it out in the distance. You internally cringe, your crewmates are no doubt unhappy about you being this far away.

Despite the distance, you couldn’t help but notice how slow Ace was going compared to earlier. It’s like he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. You decided not to call him out on it, not deeming it worth it.

“I’m not giving up, you know.”

“What?” 

“I’ll drop it for now, but I’m not giving up on you joining Whitebeard’s crew. Just… think about it, okay?” Ace’s voice was quiet, just barely loud enough to hear over the engine. 

The rest of the ride back remained dead silent, giving you plenty of time to mull over what just happened. It felt so… Weird. Out of character, really. He’s known you for, what? 24 hours? If that. Yet he’s trying to talk you out of going home and seems dead set on replacing your family with his own. Granted, everyone’s been more clingy than you thought normal, but this was downright bizarre. 

You really need to find a way home, and fast.

#one piece #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #yandere #portgas d ace #one piece ace #monkey d luffy #luffy #nami #one piece nami #zoro roronoa #sanji #we believe in alabasta ace supremacy here

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate pt. 2

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader (also Seattle!Reader)

Read Part 1

Warnings: none, this is a pretty relaxed chapter

WC: 2.8k

A/N: thank you so much for the support on what is now Part 1. Due to how many people requested a continuation of this fic, I figured I’d go for it! This is more of a filler/plot mover part of the story. There will be at least one more part that will be a lot more interesting but if there’s enough interest and I have the ideas, maybe it’ll be many more parts.

It had been a couple weeks since you had talked with Jessie on the field in San Diego. You haven't heard anything from her, not that you were expecting to after she had told you she had a lot on her plate. Not hearing from her had bothered you a bit in the beginning, thoughts of her constantly popping up in your mind. She was a minor distraction. As time went on and you didn’t hear from her you went back to the way you had been before you had seen her. You were able to brush off the thoughts of her easily, getting back into your routine as if you hadn’t even seen her.

Something deep down hoped you’d wake up to a text from her. That hope diminished as the days passed. It wasn't until the week before your team was supposed to take the trip to Portland to play that you heard from her.

Unknown: Hey, this is well overdue but I just wanted to apologize, I was rude to you after the gold cup game. Not an excuse but I was in a pretty rough state. Thanks for what you said too.

Unknown: by the way this is Jessie, I had to get a new number to use in the US. Feel free to delete my UK number. Keep the Canada one, I still use that.

Unknown: I got your number from Coffey.

Unknown: Hope that’s okay. You can just delete this number if you’d rather.

Reading her texts made you smile and let out a small laugh, she texted exactly how she would talk. You can practically hear her voice while reading through the texts, how she probably sat there overthinking each text only to then feel guilty for not just double or triple but quadruple texting you. You clicked on her number, changing her name in your phone to Jessie (USA).

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you thought about responding. Deciding against replying at the moment, you lock your phone again and climb out of bed. You throw on your clothes for training then head to your kitchen to make a quick breakfast and coffee.

Training was rough. It was less that the physical workout was hard, it had actually been a lighter day being only 2 days away from game day. It was rough because you couldn't focus.

Your mind kept drifting to the few texts you had received from Jessie. Had she been thinking about you all these weeks? Why did she wait so long? Maybe she was only thinking about you since you would be seeing her this weekend. But maybe she was thinking of you for other reasons. Maybe she was ready to start being friends? Maybe you could end up as more? All the thoughts related to her were swarming around your head, leading you to be in a fog at practice.

It was embarrassing to say the least, missing touches, overpowering or underpowering your passes, even tripping over your own feet a couple times. After you had fallen to your knees while doing individual dribbling drills, for the third time that day at practice Quinn stepped over to you extending their hand.

“Are you good?” Concern in their eyes as they pulled you up.

“Yeah, just in my own head today.” trying to give a convincing smile shaking your head at your own behavior. You had managed to push Jessie so far back in your mind for years, why was she messing with you now.

“Alright, if you need to talk let me know, or go see the psychologist. The team has them for a reason. We need you to stay on your feet Saturday.” They pat you on the back and go back to finish their dribbling drill.

“Thanks.” You gave Quinn a smile, knowing damn well you wouldn't bring yourself to talk with them. They were one of the best listeners on the team and had heard out your other issues, anxieties and just general venting. There was no way you were going to talk to Quinn about their own national team teammate. You didn’t need it coming back to Jessie that she was on your mind.

You were so thankful when you were called to huddle up and end practice. Heading back to the locker room you peeled your sweaty jersey off, throwing a sweatshirt on instead, grabbing your phone and heading to the trainer’s room. You greeted the staff, walking over to the ice bath and hopping in. The icy water causes goosebumps to appear across your skin. It felt good, you knew it would, you often would use a cold shower to clear your mind, but this counted as your recovery as well so it was a bonus. You stripped off your sweatshirt leaving you standing shivering in your sports bra. You took a deep breath and let your knees give, sinking your whole body under the water.

Under the water was peaceful, quiet, the freezing water causing your brain to go blank, no thoughts of the bad training, no thoughts of Jessie, no thoughts of what to make for dinner tonight, nothing. So you waited, sitting on the bottom of the tub prolonging your peace. Running out of air, you resurfaced to find a few teammates and members of the training staff to be looking at you. Feeling suddenly self conscious you grabbed your sweatshirt throwing it back on. “What?” you harshly asked in the general direction of your teammates. None of them responding, shaking their heads or just looking away.

Before you could make it out of the locker room you heard your name called and saw your coach standing behind you.

“Can you come to my office before you head out?” She asked.

“Yeah no problem, just give me a second to change my shorts, I’ll be right up.” You tried to appear calm on the outside. On the inside you were stressing. Why did she need to talk to you, maybe you were being traded and you'd be able to dodge Jessie longer. Maybe she was taking you off the travel roster, maybe she was going to yell at you for your performance today. You quickly changed into some dry pants and walked over and into the coaching office.

“Go ahead and shut the door.” She pointed behind you when you walked in. Her words make your stomach sink. You sat down, not saying anything, just looking at her across the desk. She finishes up something on the computer, hitting the power button and turning back to face you. She taps her hands on the desk and starts talking. “Look, I’m going to tread lightly here, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Your best attempt at a smile comes across your face.

“You realize why I have to ask, right?” you just nod at her question. “I don't mean to be crass but that was the worst practice you've had since you started here. I get it, everyone has an off day, but that to me looked like a lot more than just an off day.”

“I’m good, I just had a bit on my mind.” She wasn't telling you anything you didn't know but hearing her criticism of your performance hurt, you didn't want to disappoint her.

“Do I need to take you off of our roster for this weekend's game?”

“No!” You're quick to protest her offer. “I promise, I’ll have it sorted by then.” Not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or your coach at this point you keep talking. “You can count on me.”

“I want to believe that, I do. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one, I’ll leave you on the roster, we really need you for this game, but I’d rather not put you out there if your performance is going to look like it did today.”

“Yes Coach, I understand. I’ll be good.”

She turns back to a stack of papers, grabbing off a small slip from the top. She hands it to you, you look at it recognizing the name and contact information of the team’s sports psychologist and the team’s standard psychologist. “Take this, I’m not saying you need to talk to anyone, but it's good information to always have.”

You look up from the paper, thinking it's silly how now two people had recommended that you needed professional help, all over the fact that you had a silly little crush on an old teammate.

“Thanks Coach, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You stood up pushing in the chair behind you, leaving her office. You walked down the hallway back toward the locker room to grab your bag. Before you head out you quickly pack your travel back, throwing in your boots, shin pads, extra socks, tape before dropping the bag at the front of the room where your teammates had placed theirs. You moved back

Part of you cursed Jessie for reaching out, you had been able to push your thoughts of her back in your mind after you had talked but now that she had reached out she was back in the forefront. Opening your phone as you walked out of the training facility, you opened your messages and clicked on Jessie’s name. You opened her contact, frustrated from your performance at practice and causing your coach to consider benching you, you wanted to blame it on her. You hover your finger over the delete button. You then moved your thumb to where it read Block This Number. Before you could think twice you pressed it, the messages from her disappearing, no trace of her new number on your phone. While you were at it you proceeded to delete her number from the UK. You left her Canadian number, she never used that one to talk to you, no harm in it staying. You were hoping blocking her new number would also block the thoughts of her.

You learned very quickly though the night that if anything, blocking her number made Jessie more prominent in your mind. She was in your mind while you drove home. You thought about her while you stood under the cold water of your shower, she was in your mind while you cooked. Trying to distract yourself you grabbed a book and the book worked. It kept Jessie out of your mind until you realized how much you liked the book, one of the best ones you had read in a while. You decided to open GoodReads, immediately closing it when the first thing you saw upon opening the app was Jessie’s name, she had recently rated a book. You had forgotten that you were even friends on the app, you hadn't read or rated a book in a long time. Deciding you’ve had enough, you pull yourself off the couch and into the bedroom to try and get some sleep.

Setting your alarm for the next morning, you climbed into bed, deciding to count sheep to prevent your mind from wandering. It took many minutes of tossing and turning before you were able to fall asleep. Despite the long day you had mentally and physically, sleep did not come easy. Unfortunately, once you were asleep, you didn’t stay asleep long, feeling restless when you woke up for the fourth time that night, the sky was still dark outside. You roll over checking the time 3:18am. Still half asleep you reach for your phone, sliding it open. Squinting at the bright light you find your settings, opening your list of blocked numbers, finding Jessie’s you click unblock. You open your messages, type in her name and then a message.

You: No problem, see you Saturday.

You're not sure what you're saying no problem to, if it's because she apologized, if it's because she thanked you for talking to her or if it's to the fact that she had asked Sam for your number. Sleep is still fogging your brain. You hit send, shut off your phone and roll over hoping you can get some more sleep before your alarm wakes you.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm. You gave yourself an extra hour in the morning to pack before you had to meet at the stadium to travel. You threw on your travel sweats and shirt before throwing an assortment of sweatpants, t-shirts, and shorts into a bag, not caring what you packed for the 3 day trip. Moving into the bathroom you packed your toiletries, before heading back to your bedroom to grab your phone and the charger.

Jessie (USA): See you Saturday.

You do a double take at the message, last remembering that you had blocked her number. You open it, seeing that you, in fact, had not blocked her but instead you had texted her at 3 in the morning. “Oh you idiot,” you insulted yourself. You threw your phone in your pocket while packing your charger in your bag.

It wasn't long until you were sitting on the bus, stretching your body across two seats, trying to get comfortable. The buses had to be one of the most uncomfortable parts of playing, unfortunately Portland was considered too close to justify a plane ride. You were reading over the itinerary that had been handed out. You were scheduled for a light practice this evening followed by designated stretching and recovery time, then it was dinner and lights out. Looking to Saturday you saw the early arrival time, the game starting at Noon, pitch walk just before that, and time to warm up. After the game you had recovery for an hour followed by the words “Free Time” It wasn't uncommon for you to get freetime after game days when you were traveling, it was nice to explore where you were playing or just getting to hang out, unregulated, with your teammates. Sunday consisted of a practice in the morning, then more free time, followed by the bus ride back in the evening. The large amount of free time on this trip caught your eye, giving you an idea as you dig your phone out from your pocket. You open it to Jessie’s messages again and start typing.

You: If you're up for it, dinner Saturday night?

You realize that feels a bit forward, adding a second message.

You: You can bring a teammate too if you want, it doesn't just have to be us.

Seconds after you send it you see the bubble indicating Jessie is typing pop up, you lock your phone and toss it as if it's on fire into the seat that your legs are resting on. You feel it vibrate against your calf, indicating she had responded. Instead of reaching for your phone you remain still, staring at it. It’s only once the phone vibrates again reminding you that you had a text that you reach and pick it up. Involuntarily you hold your breath and turn on the screen.

Jessie (USA): That would be nice.

The gray bubble appears again.

Jessie (USA): just us

You let the air out of your chest, feeling relieved at her response. She wanted to see you. She wanted to see you, just the two of you. A smile grows on your face as you read over her messages again and again.

You: sounds good, may need some recommendations on dinner locations

This time when you see her typing you hold onto your phone. Watching as the bubble appears for a few seconds before disappearing and reappearing

Jessie (USA): I’ll figure something out and let you know

You begin to type out “sounds like a date” before deciding that it’s a little too forward, against it, deleting it and changing it.

You: perfect!

You waited, seeing if she would respond, not that there was much to respond to but part of you hoped she’d say something else. When she doesn't you shut off your phone. You lean your head back so it rests against the window and you're looking at the ceiling of the bus. You let out a sigh of relief. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest for the first time in two days. You now knew she didn't completely hate you, you knew she was willing to let you talk with her again.

Feeling last night's lack of sleep catches up with you, your eyes close and you’re able to drift peacefully asleep, your brain no longer filled with anxieties or concerns about Jessie, you remain asleep until the bus stops and you hear your teammates gathering their belongings to get off the bus. You were finally in Portland.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #canwnt #canxnt #portland thorns #jessie fleming imagine

[noneorother]

By far the dumbest movie reference no one caught in Good Omens is : The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse

I'm working on a theory that requires many hours of movie watching, so here we are. Many people have already mentioned that the nazi zombies/Furfur is a The League of Gentlemen comedy troupe shoutout. But I'm taking it one step crazier. Remember the opening scene from the 1941 minisode of S2E4, the one with the london bombing and the Angel statue in the bottom right corner ?

Haha sorry my bad. That's the climax intro scene of the movie The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse. Here's the opening scene of the 1941 minisode:

You can excuse the confusion after seeing both, with how they look pretty much identical (yes this is giving me The Tales of Hoffmann PTSD, thanks for asking) And it's not very coincidental when you know who helped write the minisode.

You know, just the fourth member of The League of Gentlemen and writer of the movie LG Apocalypse. So shall we tease out all the (I'm warning you) EXTREMELY dumb quotes and story beats this terrible movie has lent to the 1941 episode? There are quite a few. But there's also a potential story arc that isn't so dumb... (TW offensive comedy, including mild gore)

In order to understand this you probably have to know a bit of background on British show The League of Gentlemen. "[A] surreal British comedy horror sitcom... follows the lives of bizarre characters, most of whom are played by three of the show's four writers – Mark Gatiss, Steve Pemberton, and Reece Shearsmith – who, along with Jeremy Dyson, formed the League of Gentlemen comedy troupe in 1995." You don't need to know all of the characters or backstory of the show, just that it's a fictional town with many fictional characters played by the same three writers (and an invisible fourth).

(Also known as all these people right here) Want to know who they plays a stand-in for Jeremy Dyson in LG Apocalypse and gets murdered first with black marker on his face?

Say hello, baby Sheen!

So we've seen the bombing scene, what about the car driving through fire and Aziraphale's suggestive line at the beginning?

Yup.

Do the characters make a deal with a Reece Shearsmith character to enter the real world through a church?

HECK YEAH. Bonus points for the green background.

A gag about fake lips with Steve? Sure.

Steve Pemberton seen here as a nazi zombie, and also here playing "Herr Lipp" (also known in the actual script as "the worst pun in the world" in the movie. Groan). What about Mark Gatiss Stealing binoculars from Steve to spy on two important characters? But of course.

Surely not the arm falling off too?

Oh dang. It's a big plot point in LG Apocalypse you say? Then, in the climax, does someone in dark sunglasses who doesn't know how a rifle works fire it at a main character, and the other character who he misses says fuck? Now you're pulling off my arm..

Well I'll be damned. The only difference here being Steve's head exploding, naturally.

I'll admit, I have trouble seeing where a giant 3 headed chimera beast that destroys a bunch of characters fits in at the end of the 1941 miniode, but I don't think 1941 is meant to be a stand in for the whole movie, because at that point in the movie the role of the main characters shifts to become the real versions of Shearsmith and Gatiss, not the characters. But even though the end of the movie doesn't track with 1941, I think the moral at the end is interesting : "In the church, Lipp says he will kill Gatiss. The other characters try to dissuade him, saying that once all the writers are dead, Royston Vasey will cease to exist and they will die. Lipp claims that they will in fact be better off, because as long as they're controlled by someone else they have no free will and can never change for the better. Tipps tells Lipp that because he saved the day and can therefore change, Lipp need not kill Gatiss. He persuades Lipp to hand him the gun, only for Tipps to accidentally fire it and kill Gatiss.

With all the writers now apparently dead, the residents of Royston Vasey prepare for the worst. Instead, everything calms down and The Apocalypse is averted. The characters realise they now have free will. Herr Lipp adopts some orphaned children, the vet, Mr Chinnery, finds a rabbit and is able to take care of it without killing it, and Bernice and Pauline become romantically involved. Tipps leaves the church, waving goodbye to Edward, Tubbs and Papa Lazarou. It appears that Royston Vasey can continue to exist independently of its dead creators." This struggle for free will outside of the plan originally set out by their creators, especially in the context of said creators not really caring about them anymore, really starts sending red flags up for me. Crowley's existential crisis at the beginning of S2E1 seems to be mulling over similar themes. The lack of any God narrator as in season 1 might be a change in storytelling technique, but might also point the the creator being absent, or having moved on without really letting her original creation know it gets to exist on it's own now. Funnily enough, this is the second movie with shot for shot quotes throughout, that places a specific set of characters at the center of their own deeper plot that has a meta level to the storytelling. I'm starting to think there's a pattern here...

_______________________________________ Here's my series on the Tales of Hoffmann, another movie hidden within the series.

#good omens meta #good omens 2 #good omens season two #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #go2

[muddyorbsblr]

a sizing mishap

See my full list of works here!

This story (and in turn this entire collection) wouldn't have happened if I weren't inspired by this comment from the amazing @lokischambermaid. Thank you for the thot!! 💖🫡

Summary: You hand Player #6 his uniform but it's the wrong size…

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: 18+ | smut-ish at the end (minors & pearl clutchers, don't try me. not today); language; side-eye worthy behavior from less than minor character at the beginning [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: trust the process, and let me know if you caught on to the hints 😉

It was slowly and surely getting a touch too stuffy in this tiny room you were stationed in for the day. You knew that it was the misfortune that would befall the newbie on the crew but it didn't ease your frustration any. No amount of guzzled water or time spent holding your handheld fan down your shirt could help the fact that the entire room felt like you were slowly being cooked sous vide.

And as if your predicament wasn't uncomfortable and mentally taxing enough, you had to do an inordinate amount of moving about from scouring through the piles of jerseys and shorts to hand off to the various players because most of them hadn't even bothered to fill out the order forms with their size weeks prior to today. To make things even more interesting, some of the men thought themselves charmers and attempted to flirt with you while you were already under enough undue stress.

Your therapist was definitely going to hear about your exchange with that former tatted up boybander who answered your question of "Size, Sir?" with an overconfident "More than big enough for you, luv."

At least you were proud of your deadpanned response of "Somehow I highly doubt that" that made him grumble out his actual answer of "Medium". Another uninterested look that carefully examined his torso and legs and you made the executive decision to hand him some sets in a size XS instead.

"This isn't a Medium. Can you even read?" he snapped at you, waving the uniforms in his clenched fist.

"It's your size, sir," you shot back, your tone still deadpanned and unwavering despite the temper he was showcasing. "If you don't believe me you're more than free to try it on behind that curtain there. If I'm wrong then I will gladly assist you and hand you a set in the next size up."

It only took a few minutes for him to stomp behind the curtain, try on the uniform, and then stomp all the way out of the tiny room without another word. Guess you handed him the correct size after all.

You had a few minutes to breathe after that first wave of players walked through, allowing you to prepare yourself for the sweat-inducing task of moving about the piles once again when the next batch came in and told you they didn't input their sizes, either. At this point, you jokingly told yourself that you'd outright kiss the first one who actually had a size next to their name on the sheet.

"Name?" you called out when you heard the door open again, already facing the surplus of extra unlabeled uniforms to thumb through the piles.

"Douglas," the woman answered, chuckling when you let out a sigh of relief finding a size next to her name on the chart. "I take it some of my teammates didn't give you their sizes in the form?"

"Try nearly all of them so far," you huffed to confirm. "It's been so bad that I was telling myself that I'd kiss the first person who actually had a size next to their name on this damn thing." You waved the printed papers of the chart around to punctuate your point, making her laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"Well I think you'd be better off saving that promise for the one coming after me, assuming that he filled out the sizing form. Trust me, you'll probably want to pass on lil ol' me. Then again he might not be up for it considering he does have a very pretty lass that--come to think of it, from what I know about her, kind of looks like you…?"

"Now I'm intrigued," you teased, turning around to the comparatively small pile of labeled uniforms and handed her the one with "DOUGLAS" written on the top. "There you go. Good luck out there."

"Thanks. And good luck to you too it's like a brazen bull in here, bloody fuck."

You waved her off, already holding your tiny fan down your shirt again and just trying to take deep, slow breaths to try and lower your body temperature somewhat. The sound of the door opening again nearly had you whining to any deity listening to give you at least fifteen minutes to cool down before having to deal with another conveniently forgetful soul. "Name?" you all but sighed out.

The effort it took for you to fight back a face splitting grin at the name and buttery smooth voice that reached your ears should have gotten you some form of accolade in the realm of sheer Herculean level restraint. "Hiddleston."

You perused the charts, pursing your lips to keep yourself stoic upon seeing that the field beside his name was, in fact, not blank. "Just a moment, Sir." There was a very faint mumbling coming from the towering man a few feet from you while you retrieved his uniforms from the pile of labeled bundles, an expression nearly as stoic as your own on his face when you handed him the parcel. "There you go."

He gave you a soft smile, holding you captive in an oceanic gaze that you had to practically pry yourself away from and at least pretend to busy yourself with the paperwork on the little desk.

Suddenly all the bravado you had facing all those hubristic men from earlier melted away, as if karma had literally deflated it out of you as some warped retaliation for your earlier behavior. He didn't even have to do fuck all anything and you could feel your pulse skyrocketing and your body overheating that had nothing to do with the current climate of the even more seemingly cramped and overcrowded room.

But then he spoke.

"Erm…I truly hate to be a bother but…this isn't the correct size."

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, showing him your visible shock. "That--That can't be. This came straight from the suppliers, they're the ones that labeled these all."

"I understand that but…these are a size Small. I distinctly remember leaving instructions for y--For my partner to input a Medium."

Another look through the chart had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. "It…it says Small," you choked out, visibly struggling to meet his eyes again. "I'm--I'm so sorry, let me see what I can do, I'll make a few calls and-and--"

"No no no, hey hey…" he called out, placing the parcel back on the table before placing his hands on your arms in a gentle hold. "Calm down. It's alright, just breathe." He started running his hands up and down your arms, the motion calming you almost instantly, before sneaking a glance at your little nameplate on the table. "Y/N, just breathe for me, sw--Breathe for me, alright?"

The motions of his hands began to guide you through your breathing, feeling your racing pulse begin to mellow down. "I'm--really sorry about that, it's just I'm new here and this is gonna get me in some serious trouble if I end up fumbling and blundering like--"

"You're going to be alright, it's not that big of a deal, really," he told you in a reassuring tone, squeezing your shoulders lightly before letting go and picking up his jerseys and shorts again. "It's only one size down, I'll make it fit." His free hand twitched toward you briefly, some bizarre part of you instinctively itching to reach for him in turn, but your more rational mind decided against it and sat back on your little seat.

"There's something off about you," you rambled, shuffling the papers of the chart once more and reaching for a pen. "You're way too understanding and mild-mannered for this industry."

He hesitated before taking the pen from you, holding your hand in his as he asked, "Would you mind if I tried it on? Just to be sure." There was the slightest twitch in his eye, as if he was about to wink before he made the split second decision not to, and all you could do at that moment was look up at him with the most foolishly dumbstruck look on your face.

"N-Not at all. Go--Go right ahead, there's a curtain over--Ohh okay then that…works…too," you mumbled to near incoherence as he proceeded to undo the buttons on his thicker overshirt, shrugging the garment onto the floor before giving his light blue button down the same treatment.

Get a hold of yourself. Pick your jaw off the ground you're embarrassing yourself, you hissed inwardly, reminding yourself that you were about to be in the presence of a lot of shirtless men this entire weekend throughout all the practices and promotional events, not to mention the game itself on Sunday. But none of those guys look like this. Look like a literal god among men.

All the while he never broke eye contact with you, holding you hostage in a stormy gaze as if daring you to look away while he effortlessly pierced through the plastic that contained the jerseys. You did your best not to fixate your eyes on the sinewy, well-defined muscles that were moving fluidly with every minute movement of his hands, holding his gaze with all the confidence you could muster.

He made a show of unfolding the shirt in slow, deliberate movements, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk when he noted the visible movement of your neck from a strained effort in swallowing and calming yourself. It was only then that he put the shirt over his head in one fluid motion, the fabric stretching taut across his chest and threatening to burst at even the most minute flex of muscle.

The internet is about to have a field day and I am about to get kicked out of this committee, you thought to yourself. And on your first year, no less. You should've known it was a bad idea to agree to the invitation just because your boyfriend encouraged you to.

"It's not too bad, is it?" He swung his arms around to test his range of motion, before raising his hands above his head in a stretch, causing the borderline illegally tight fabric  to ride up on his abdomen, exposing his lower stomach.

You could barely hold in your composure as you choked out, "It looks…manageable." You held out your pen in his direction again. "You just uhm…need to sign on the chart."

He approached you with a certain sway to his step that vaguely reminded you of a wolf stealthily assessing its prey, fingers slowly brushing across your skin as he took the pen from your hand and uncapped the pen by placing the cap between his teeth. When he finished signing his name on the chart, his eyes never left yours as he recapped the pen and placed it back into your hand, his large palm engulfing your entire hand in a warmth you couldn't even bother to complain about despite the stale humid air of the room.

"There you are, darling," he rasped. "No harm done. You won't get into any trouble with your superiors because of me, don't you worry your lovely little head." You watched with bated breath as he turned around and bent at the waist to pick up the discarded shirts, putting that ass that the internet shamelessly thirsts over and stares at for hours on end mere feet before your naked eyes.

I have no idea if my job is cursed or if it might just be the best thing that ever happened to me, you thought helplessly to yourself, watching as he stood back upright and turned again to face you, giving you a small wave as he exited the room.

You fought the urge to hold your tiny fan down your pants after that exchange.

The sound of your phone chiming with a new message brought you out of your stupor, a smile finding its way onto your face as soon as you saw your boyfriend's name on the screen.

"Are you alright? Have you eaten since you got there? Make sure you're drinking lots of water, I hear it's going to be sweltering today. I love you and I miss you already, goddess."

Just the mere thought of how he'd taken the time to type out the message despite how busy you knew he was had you biting your lip to try even slightly to prevent yourself from letting out a stream of giggles like you were back in school all over again. You could feel the ache in your heart as you began to feel your own yearning beginning to intensify after his message.

"I just have a few more people to hand off their uniforms to and then I'll go get some food. Thank you for checking in on me. I love you and I miss you more than you know."

The rest of the day was thankfully a bit more merciful towards you. Once you'd handed out all the uniforms and put all the surplus jerseys and shorts into a merch pile for audience members to purchase before entering the stadium proper and perhaps have the players sign at the end of the game, the hours up until training was over were spent outdoors coordinating with press photographers, making sure that security was on peak alertness in case anyone managed to sneak through the cracks, and confirming that everything was in place for some hot sauce challenge that would take place tomorrow.

You also made a note to take one of those bottles home since you were running low. Only if you could, of course.

When the fields were empty and you were locking down the press room for the night, you heard someone walk into the otherwise quiet room. "I had the most interesting conversation with some of the other players today." The sound of the man's rich, velvety voice had your heart violently pounding in your chest. "About you."

You took a few steadying breaths before you addressed your unexpected visitor, your back still turned to him as you finished writing down the names on the media passes for tomorrow morning. "And what is it that I can do for you, Mr. Hiddleston?"

The sound of his footsteps slowly approaching you had a thrill running up your spine, making you abruptly stand to attention when you felt large hands rest on your waist. "One of them told me about how you were tempted to…what was it again? Ah yes…you said something about kissing the first player that actually had their size on the chart?" You bit back a smile, looking out the window to double check that nobody was lurking and trying to peer into the room as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Now Douglas told me that allegedly it was her, and she passed it on to whoever came next. And if memory serves me right…I believe that would mean that immensely fortunate player was…myself."

He'd leaned in so close at this point that his lips were grazing the shell of your ear. "This is highly unprofessional," you mumbled, barely able to contain your smile now.

"I don't care. I've been thinking about you all day." Fingers ghosted up the length of your spine while his nose traced a line from the shell of your ear down to a very specific weak spot on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You went nearly limp in his hold the second you felt him press a soft kiss to that same spot, his free hand deftly undoing the ribbon you had holding your hair up before weaving his fingers through your hair. "Take this as me officially breaking character. I've missed you, goddess."

The groan he let out against your skin turned you into putty in your boyfriend's arms. "One day," you giggled out. "You lasted barely one day."

Over the last few years since you'd gotten together, whenever you were both signed on to a project, you tried to commit to this bit of "staying private and professional" throughout the course of the project, so as to not draw too much attention to the fact that you were involved. It had come to the point where it collectively slipped the mind of the general public that you two were actually still, in fact, happily together and borderline maddeningly in love. And it also granted you both a comfortable enough sense of privacy, which you were immensely grateful for and neither of you ever dared take for granted.

On previous projects, he would 'break character' within the course of a few hours, and you had a feeling that the only reason it took him nearly a day this time around was that you two weren't around each other as much due to him practicing for the game, and you running around the entire facility.

"I have to be honest, though," you started, letting out a squeal as he abruptly turned you around in his arms to face him, pulling your body flush against his. "For a second there I thought this would be a first and I would break character. This afternoon." It was a good thing that he was currently holding you upright with the way he was looking at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving through that one size too gloriously small shirt; if you were left to stand on your own, your knees would've buckled the second he touched you. "If you kept up that goddamn striptease for even two more seconds I might have caved."

He smirked at you when you a tiny yelp slipped through your lips as he placed his hands on the backs of your thighs and easily lifted you into his arms. "I'll have to try a bit harder next time," he whispered, walking until you felt your back make contact with the wall. "I believe you owe me a kiss, sweetheart."

You crossed your hands behind his neck, leaning in to give him the quickest peck to his lips. "There you are," you teased, letting out a stream of giggles against his lips when he grabbed the back of your head and pressed you against the wall before pulling you in for a deeper kiss. He let out a desperate sounding moan into your mouth as his arm around you tightened and his fingers tangled into your hair. As if he couldn't possibly get enough of you. Or as if you hadn't seen each other for months.

"Where are you staying?" he rasped when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath.

"I have a room that I'm sharing with 2 more members from the committee--"

"That won't do," he cut you off, pressing his lips to your jaw and kissing a trail down your neck. "You're staying with me. I already despise the mornings that I wake up away from you, it's cruel and unusual punishment if I go to sleep tonight alone knowing full well that you're here in another room." You stifled a moan when he proceeded to suck a bruise onto your neck, already anticipating the questions from your fellow committee members in the morning when they catch sight of it.

"I uhh--ohh fuck--I'll need to get my things," you stammered, leaning your head back and arching into his kiss to expose more of your neck to him. "My clothes--"

"You won't need them, darling," he retorted, smirking against your skin when you let out a squeak trying to feign protest against his words. "Say yes," he pleaded between kisses. "Stay with me." He kissed his way up to the corner of your mouth. "Don't deny me the simplest joy of getting to wake up with you in my arms."

Those were the words that did you in. "Okay, okay yes," you breathed out, your moan muffled by him once again capturing your lips in a kiss that threatened to steal you of every last breath you had left.

Neither of you seemed to care in the slightest if you crossed paths with anyone on your way to his suite, Tom adorably refusing to let your feet touch the ground as he carried you down the halls. "There was one more thing that some of the players mentioned…Something about you being able to assess their sizes and giving them their correct fitting instead of the size that they told you they were?"

Dammit, the boybander told on me, you grumbled to yourself, meeting your boyfriend's gaze with your worst attempt at an innocent smile. "Aaaand…what about it?"

"You've known my measurements since they sent in the roster form," he started with a knowing smirk, causing you to purse your lips and basically out yourself that you knew exactly where he was going with this.

"I did…"

"Did you intentionally input the wrong size?"

Biting your lip before letting out a fit of near uncontrollable giggles told him more than a spoken admission ever could. "I might have…"

"And I would also be right to assume you had everything to do with the swapped out trousers in my bag?"

Your giggles got louder, practically giving the entire floor a homing beacon signal to where you were, take one look at your current positions, and give them a vivid idea of what type of noises they would expect to hear throughout the night.

"I had to do it," you managed to say between laughs. "For Tumblr."

You held on to him a bit tighter when he went to unlock his door, pressing the keycard to the scanner and balancing you on a single arm, and giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss yet another particularly sensitive spot behind your ear. He let out a seductively dark chuckle against your skin when your giggles had morphed into moans.

"Naughty little goddess," he rasped, tracing his lips along your shirt's neckline as he laid you down on the bed and then proceeding to kiss a path down your clothed torso until he reached the hem of your shirt. His hands traveled up your body, working the fabric up and over your head, kissing and licking and biting at a leisurely pace at every sliver of skin that was exposed to him.

Once the shirt was up to your raised hands, he hovered his face above yours, capturing your lips in another languid, decadent kiss that had you sighing against him as a warm contentment washed over you. You'd only realized now how much you actually missed him since having to leave your home yesterday to come here and begin preparations with the rest of the committee. All day you were so caught up with finalizing every meticulous detail you had control over it was almost like your mind didn't allow you to feel how much you were yearning.

"What am I going to do with you, my darling little menace?" he murmured against your lips, your combined moans filling the room as he licked into your mouth, your tongues meeting in a tangle long practiced and perfected over the years. You quickly tossed your shirt aside to free your hands and pull him closer, giving him the perfect leeway to unclasp your bra.

"Whatever you want," you gasped once you both pulled away, the silliest grins on both your faces as your hands fumbled for the hem of his jersey. "I love you and I've missed you more than you know."

"Shouldn't have said that, my love," he growled, pushing you back down on the bed so that your back was flat against the mattress, a near filthy moan escaping you when he hooked your legs around him and rolled his hips into yours. "There's a lot of pent up energy in me." He proceeded to summarize what he'd spent the day doing, punctuating each item with a thrust of his hips. "Running." Thrust. "Dribbles." Thrust. "Shooting drills." Thrust. "Endorphins are running amok. You understand, don't you, darling?"

"Let me repeat myself," you said breathlessly, crossing your ankles and pulling his hips to yours and making him let out the most delicious stuttered moan. "You can do whatever you want."

A/N: Suddenly those reblogs I did of 'one look and they'll know' are making sense, huh? 😉😈 Welcome to the Soccer Aid 2023 Hiddles collection! As of writing this Author's Note, there are going to be 5 stories in this collection, the next one being 'a tale of ice baths and hot sauce' which covers the Elementals challenge video, and I'm already working on it as we speak. 🫠

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-zie @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

[derangedanomaly]

So, I saw your writing and short stories. I love the way you write each character perspective of the reader so I wanted to ask. Can you do Dust, Nightmare, Error, Epic, Bill, Killer x Demon Slayer Reader (Like, in there au, they slay demons with a katana)

I'm glad you like my writing style pookie! ^^ (I'm sorry, I have no experience in writing Bill sans, so I didn't do him. Again, terribly sorry 😭😭 still hope you'll enjoy this nonetheless!)

NOT A DEMON...

(Dust, Nightmare, Error, Epic, Killer)

Nightmare:

After he found out that there's another Au, he just needed to see it..see how much havoc he can cause! Of course he immediately went there.

Though, he didn't expected this.

He was immediately jumped by a girl, holding a katana up to his throat, which... undeniably...made his knees turn into jelly... (Bro is actually into this freaky shit 😨)

He only awkwardly looked at you, a smirk evident on his face. "Hey...so... are you gonna point your pretty katana up to my throat like this forever...or you'll actually let go...?" Bitch was LYING. He didn't want you to let go. (SIR. Y'ALL JUST MET 😱)

Your glare hardened on him as you tighten your hold on your katana, not planning to move from him. (Damn..ya trynna start some shit? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He chuckled at your unwillingness, and actually WRAPPED HIS TENTACLE around your katana. Your eyes widened, not really sure what his next move is going to be.

"What....what kind of demon are you?" You asked him, looking over his goopy body and slick tentacles. He became a little flustered from your stares, but didn't waver. "Demon? Heh... I've been called many things, awful things...but I wouldn't go as far as to call me a demon." He is a demon. 😐

You decided to interrogate him further, so you still sat, seated on his chest, a katana ready to end him anytime he would get out of line. (Which... let's be honest, really turned him on...)

You then began your special interrogation.

"What's your name?" "Nightmare. You?" ".....Y/n L/n...what about your... appearance? What's up with your tentacles?" He shoots you a flirtatious smirks. "Why? Interested..~?" You glared and pressed the katana to his neck more.. "Answer." He let out a shuddered sigh, almost as if trying to hold himself back... "I'm a skeleton. Not a demon, hun." It was finally then that he decided to free himself, using his tentacles to lift you up with ease. You questioned yourself why he didn't free himself earlier if he could very much do so without problems.

"Don't worry, Y/n. You'll see me much sooner then you can expect..."

Oh you knew. And next time he comes. You'll be prepared.

Killer:

Oh he was SO going to kill the others for this! He made a bet with the others recently, and he lost. Again. As a punishment, he had to capture someone from this brand new Au. Which Killer, didn't enjoy. He rather much liked killing them on the spot! But not kidnapping! He HATED this mission....

Killer walked through the dark hollow forest with a bored expression, looking around. As long as he kidnapped ONE person, the job's done. And that's all he wanted to get out of here.

As he passed a certain corner, he was immediately startled by a loud voice. A rather...sweet voice. He slowly turned around to be met with a... girl's eyes, looking frantically at him. In his eyes...she seemed.. nervous, holding a katana in a shakey hold.

Thinking you were quite attractive, he didn't see the harm in a little flirting. Besides...he can't come back without completing the mission...so who knows how long he'll be stuck here. (Also, it wouldn't be Killer if he didn't flirt with any being he saw as attractive. 💀)

"Well hello gorgeous~" You let out a little squeal at that and the katana in your hand almost slipping out. Which he found rather cute.

Truth be told, it was your first day as the demon slayer, you never actually encountered a demon head-on like this before. Which made you quite nervous...

Despite being very nervous, you eventually found your voice and spoke to him, trying to assert authority. "L-Listen here demon!" Which failed as you stuttered. Ugh.. "-We either fight to death! Or you leave! Right now..." Killer couldn't help but chuckle as he leaned against a tree right next to him, with you still holding your katana and standing in a battle pose.

"Fight to death? Sounds a bit gruesome to me.." he chuckled again, sending shivers down your spine. "How about we change it up to something more...poetic? I've always been the romantic type~ how about...we fight till death do us part! Yeah... that sounds better.."

Because Killer is a dumbo, he completely overlooked the part where you called him a demon. So he was surprised when you called him like that, again. "W-What are you?! Some perverted demon?!" Your cheeks flared up in red as you squealed. Killer only looked at you in confusion. "A demon?? Nah...I ain't a demon sweetheart, I'm a skeleton! But I can act like a demon if that'll get you going..." You couldn't help out the grin that was spreading on your cheeks as you turned your head a little to the side, to avoid looking at him.

Killer smirked and suddenly threw you over his shoulder, you yelped and wanted to take out your katana, only to see it in the snow not being able to reach it. Killer smirked and not so subtly peaked at your...form. ;)

"So.. where's your house eye candy? I'm gonna crash at yours tonight." You thought he'll immediately kidnap you? Nah...call it selfishness...but he just really wanted to enjoy this a little longer.

Error:

To say that Error was furious was an understatement. He was fuming.

Ink went ahead, and created another fucking Au. Great...more work for him to destroy the anomalies.

As Error went on a search about the Au, his eyes suddenly catched your folder...it was almost like it was calling out to him, shining even.. he leaned in closer, taking your folder out. Y/n. Heh...that seems like an interesting 'anomaly'...

Error went into your Au, beginning his work of destroying everything. That was until you tried to step in, he thought you'd be furious and try to put up a fight, but all you did was....gush about his strength...or his demeanor, his appearance..he was..........flustered.

He turned to you with big blush. Out.of.words. what was he even supposed to say?!

"Oh man...you have such a strong arms..." You complimented, making it harder for him to destroy your world. He was having a stupid smile on his face. It was actually really adorable! "O-Oh gEeez...." He let out a huff as he looked you up and down. (Ayo sir, you checking out? 🤨😘)

He grumbled, trying to compose himself, showing clear signs of embarrassment. "I'm the destroyer of Au's. I'm supposed to eliminate anomalies. And you're one of em." You couldn't help the mischievous grin spreading across your face. You have no idea why, but something about this guy just screamed, 'I'm not dangerous!'. You trusted your brain. So you decided to not attack him. Now that you got a good look at him, he seemed to have trouble sleeping...

"What's your name, Mr. Au destroyer?" You didn't miss the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile, but chose to not comment on it. "....Error.." you smiled warmly at Error, pointing to your house. "You look like you're not doing so well... wanna come over my place and...rest up?" His face retorted to a frown suddenly, he stood up and made you come super close face-to-face with him, glaring at you.

"I'm not dumb..... you're not doing this out of kindness...no one is..WHY are you doing this???" you felt like bursting to laughter right then and there. Is this man serious? "I'm just offering you my hospitality, Error...is there a problem with my intentions?" His face blew up almost instantly, before landing you safely onto the ground.

"Great! My offer still stays...feel free to come...~" of course he'll come. How could he resist with you taunting him so much?

Dust:

This is the hundredth time that Dust asked for Nightmare to go visit this brand new Au. Nightmare knew. He knew from the start when he heard about the Au that Dust would be interested. After all......monster species and their Exp is his forte...

After Nightmare almost blew a fuse, he finally agreed to Dust's request. "Are you....sure you want...to go alone...?" Horror asked Dust, eating a raw meat while doing so. "Yeah. Don't worry H. Killer will keep you entertained." Dust laughed when he heard Horror's next words. "Ugh... I'd rather hang...out with...a caterpillar..." Dust couldn't help but agree with his words, leaving Horror in their shared room. (I LIVE FOR HORROR AND DUST BEING BEST FRIENDS 😍)

After going through the portal, he looked at his surroundings, making mental notes. He liked to visit each and every new Au like this before him and his team destroys it...it made him feel a little alive...like he wasn't completely lost. Yes, he mostly did this so the others could have an idea of the layout in the Au, and how many people there were and what kind of species they were...but...it sorta became a hobby of his now. He felt good when he explored something new! It reminded him of Papyrus....

He shook his head and took out his book. For every Au, he had its own special book. Every book was different for each Au. He sometimes even decorated the cover... (Would NOT let anyone know...He would actually die).

This specific book for this Au is brown like cork, and has a golden lining around it. He began making small notes, looking at the scenery. It was like something BRAND NEW. He never saw an Au that was SO different from the others! And from the looks of it...it didn't occured in the underground.

As Dust sat under a tree, writing notes, he didn't noticed a figure approaching, until it was right besides him.

"What are you doing..?" He flinched. "What the FUCK!?" You both then proceeded to stare at the other, both of your faces showing concern for the other... "Uhm... I feel as though we haven't started off on the right foot.... I'm Y/n L/n! And you...? Stranger...?" He blinked a few times before responding. "Oh, I'm Dust..." You let out a giggle at the silly name, as you look at his book.. "And can I ask what you're doing? Dust?"

After awhile of pestering Dust to let you in on what he was doing, he explained what he was doing. You were pretty impressed when you heard his work. "That's so cool! Hey, maybe I can help you?" Dust only looked at you with unfazed expression. "Help me how?" You giggle, earning yourself an embarrassed Dust, avoiding your pretty eyes that he seemed to get lost in. "I'll show you how everything in here works! After all, wouldn't you want to hear the thoughts of the citizen?" Dust thought about it for some time, until he eventually gave up. "Alright.." you cheered slightly, making him chuckle quietly. Why wouldn't he take you up on the offer? After all...he wanted to talk to you for as long as possible.

Epic:

Oh how did he get into this situation? This night, he snuck into Nightmare's mansion, to hang out with Cross, only to be found and chugged into a black room locked until the morning arrives...

"Oh come on, Nightmare dude!" He whined trying to force the door open. Nightmare only grimaced. "DON'T call me dude, Epic. Ever." Epic sighed after he heard Nightmare's steps walking further away. All he could do was wait. You'd think he can teleport, but nope! This room forbids you to use any form of magic...Nightmare really thought about everything when creating a punishment..

He only sighed more, and slumped down sitting on the ground, his back facing the door. He was getting pretty bored... Nightmare even took his printed out memes and his rubber chicken! What a crime! Truly a vile man...

After almost falling asleep, Epic heard weird noises...it was like some portal? He opened his eyes to be met with, truly an opened portal. It must've opened on its own...he observed it for awhile until deciding to come in.

When he opened his eyes. Again. He was met with a literal angel. Well, at least in his eyes. There you were, fighting against a big demon ruthlessly. As if it was nothing! Epic could only stare in adoration, still sitting on the ground. "Oh I wish I could describe this with that one meme...." But I don't have my meme privileges... He thought to himself, before fully focusing on you again.

He decided that, to make a good first impression on you, he'll get up and help you with your demon problem.

And he actually did! You had no idea who this man was, but you were grateful for him! He really kicked some butt!

After beating the demon, you looked to your side and faced the man that helped you... "Hey...thanks, man." Epic got a little smug and smirked. "You're welcome. What's your name brah?" You chuckle at his vocabulary as you both exchanged names.

"Well...see you around, Epic." You smiled teasingly, putting your hand on his shoulder before leaving him a flustered mess. He's definitely gonna see you around....you think that after this experience he'll just leave? Hell no! He'll visit for sure.. ;)

#sans undertale #sans x reader #undertale #undertale fandom #nightmare sans x reader #dust sans x reader #error sans x reader #killer sans x reader #epic sans x reader

[zer05trange]

Roaring Sea

II. Sharlotka

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ premise: Tartaglia comes over to learn how to make apple cake. But is that really why he's in your bakery?

⋆｡°✩wc: 2.5k

⋆｡°✩warnings: fluff

⋆｡°✩ series masterlist

The dreaded moment had come. The day that you told Tartaglia you’d teach him how to make your apple cake, to get him to leave you be just two days ago. 

Though really, you concluded that he wasn’t necessarily a nuisance. You may or may not have realized you have the tiniest, little, minuscule crush on the guy. The night before, you could feel how hot your face was once Tartaglia left the shop, and how you were ever-so-slightly flustered the rest of the shift.

It was nothing, you tried to convince yourself. All that happened was that you’ve seen him twice, he has some bizarre interest in you, and he’s just a pretty boy. Archons, you feel like a middle schooler, saying you kind of “like-liked” him, but you wouldn’t even go that far.

The first stage is denial.

You took some extra time to prepare during your morning routine, even donning a nicer outfit than usual. It's not that you look bad most days, you just decided to put in more effort. Even Ivan commented how nice you look you felt yourself getting sick.

This isn't you! You're business and success-oriented, wanting to be the strong and independent woman that you grew up reading stories of, like the one that ruled your nation. But, even the Tsaritsa has her harbingers.

You continue to stay in the mindset that this wasn’t going to be anything serious, you barely even know the guy so it’s not like this is going to become an actual thing. It goes against what you want.

What you’re pretty sure you want.

It’s 6:50, 10 minutes until closing time, and you take one final look at yourself before rushing downstairs to your bakery.

“Ivan!” You yell as you get to the first floor, “Do not turn anything off, I’m making some stuff after closing.”

He stares at you, wide-eyed, as he just shut off the oven for the day, “Sorry.”

“It's fine, just take all the tips and scram,” You say jokingly.

“What are you up to?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed, “Are you expecting someone?”

“You’re getting nosey,” You remark as you put your apron on, “But, yes.”

You say the latter phrase more deadpan than the other, and that sets Ivan off, apparently.

“If this person gives you any trouble, just know I can wield a frying pan better than the Captain can wield a sword,” He exclaims in a jokingly prideful, yet brotherly tone.

His bold statement shocks you, “I’m pretty sure you could get put on a watchlist for saying that... but thanks.”

You shoo him out before 7, giving you a few minutes to yourself before anyone else was going to be around. You gather the needed ingredients and set out all your tools so you don’t have to fish them out as you go, and to keep your mind off of what disaster may ensue.

The knot in your stomach is too big to ignore now, and you want to hit yourself with how childish you were being. This isn’t you, you have to be possessed or something, you don’t

“Well, Ms. Y/N, you look nice,” You jerk your head up at the sudden voice.

You look ahead to see Tartaglia, the anxious knot in your stomach growing bigger by the millisecond. He isn’t in his usual get-up, but a grey button-up covered by an oxblood-colored scarf and black pants. His hair is slightly tousled, and his eyes appear brighter than usual. He’s so damn handsome, and this time you can’t just blame it on your bakery’s lights, not with your new-found revelation on this little crush you have.

“Hi,” you spit out as a result of your brain short-circuiting as it ran out of witty remarks.

He makes his way closer to you, this time instead of standing across from you, he comes around to where you are.

“So this is your domain of expertise, where you hone and master your craft,” He says, sparking a dismayed look on your face, unimpressed at his phraseology.

“Yes. Now, first, I want you to dice these apples,” You brush off his odd statement and hand him three red apples from your baking counter, “Then, you need to integrate the apples with this cinnamon mixture.”

“We are getting right to work, aren’t we?” He says as he takes the apples, “It’s like you want me out here as fast as possible, hmm.”

You chuckle as you get him a cutting knife, “You catch on really quickly.”

He laughs back at that, and your cheeks heat up further at his laugh.

“I’m going to mix all the powder now. Flour, baking powder, the good stuff,” You say as you move your ingredients closer to his working space.

You begin to tell him what you’re all pouring into separate bowls, meanwhile explaining to him exactly what you’re doing.

“So now, you are going to manually beat these eggs for a few minutes,” You speak up as you hand him a whisk. He gladly takes it and begins working, which shocks you. Most people would be reluctant to mix something for 7 minutes straight, but he was oddly compliant. Odd, or, you just can’t take the hint.

“You must have strong arms to be doing this for a living,” He remarks with a chuckle as he whisks the contents of the bowl efficiently.

“I do,” You say as you flex your biceps and forearms, half-joking.

You observe his actions, noticing that even through his shirt, you can see his arm muscles flex with each stir he makes. You suppose a toy maker could have built that much mass in their profession, but you’re too hypnotized focused on his actions to think much of it.

“Done! What do I do next?” You look up at his face, which dons a smile as he hands you the bowl, which was mixed well. And somehow, his cheek had a smidgen of flour on it. 

“You uhm have flour on your face,” You say as you point toward his left cheek, wondering how it could’ve possibly gotten there. He begins rubbing his hand on his face, but seems to be missing the small part of flour on him. 

“Did I get it?” You shake your head in disappointment. “Can you just get it for me?” He asks, causing you to sigh exasperatedly. You grab his face to pull it down with one hand, and you softly brush off the flour on his cheek.

While you're focused on his cheek, he is brazenly looking down at your face with a smile, almost waiting for you to look back at him. But as soon as you got your hand off his face, you went back to working on the cake.

“Right, So next we’re going to lay a layer of the batter down, then a layer of the apples, and repeat,” You bring the cake pan in front of you, “So you pour yours then I’ll put mine on top of it.” 

He begins to pour a thin layer of the batter, and you then put a layer of apples on top of it. The process repeats for a while in a focused silence, and before you know it, you’ve placed your final layer.

“Do you want the honor of putting this in the oven?” You turn to him with the pan in your hand.  

“Absolutely,” He takes the pan from you with a smile, and proceeds to place the pan in the oven. You turn around to begin cleaning up the space when you hear a hiss coming from Tartaglia. 

“Are you okay?” You ask with an undisguised worriment in your voice, quickly turning around to look at him.

“I must’ve burnt my hand on the oven rack,” He brushes off with a chuckle.

“You didn’t use the mitt? The oven mitt right next to you?” You scold him, not hiding your concern. 

You close the door to the oven and start a timer for 60 minutes, then rush over to the sink. You wet a nearby washcloth and bring it to him. You hold it on his burn, firm yet gentle, with a disappointed look on your face. 

“Idiot,” You murmur, “You need to be more careful.”

He chuckles while looking at you while tending to him. You don’t find anything laughable about his recklessness, so you look up at him to express your disagreement with his mood.

As you dab down on his hand, you notice how he has two scars on his right hand alone. One sprawls across the back of his palm, and is lengthy, yet skinny. The other is so long that it disappears into his long-sleeve shirt, yet is thick in width. You don’t know him well enough to ask about it, but it does bother you how much care, or lack thereof, he put toward himself.

“Now we wait 60 minutes for it to bake,” You speak up, still focused on the burn spot on his hand. You take the washcloth off after a while, and go toward the main area of the bakery toward the stools in front of a counter, where you take a seat, “Are you going to stand for an entire hour?”

He follows you and plops down on the stool to the right of you, staring ahead at the wall. 

“Who’s that? Is that your boyfriend?” He sings in a jokingly nosey tone.

“No, that’s not my boyfriend,” You scoff, “ That’s my friend from Inazuma. He taught me a few Inazuman recipes.” 

“Ah,” He sounds almost satisfied with the answer you gave him.

“You’re pretty good at some of the techniques,” You look at him through the sides of your eyes, “Do you bake often?” 

“I like to help around at home,” He answers, “My skills are nowhere near yours, and that's no small feat.”

“Thanks,” You respond sarcastically at his brag. 

“What’s your favorite thing you make?” He asks, which actually causes you to think.

“To make or to eat?” You look at him.

“Both,” He says, with his eyes not leaving your face and form.

“To make, probably just plain cake, it’s not difficult and many customers enjoy it,” You gaze back at the oven, “I don’t know what’s my favorite to eat, I prefer to eat what others make for me.” 

Tartaglia beams up at you, “Next time I’ll bring my favorite for you, my mother makes it so perfectly.” 

“Next time? You’re bold,” You respond with a laugh as he still looks at you in adoration.

You cut the small talk and replace it with silence, as much silence as Tartaglia would allow, and fiddle with a decorative fake glaze lily in front of you. He just taps his finger on the counter top, almost impatiently. 

You suddenly stand and make your way to the oven. You take a toothpick and check how baked the cake was, and you must’ve wasted a substantial amount of time, because the cake is almost completely cooked. You, unlike someone else you know, put on your oven mitt and set it down on the counter to cool.

You turn around to tell Tartaglia, but he’s already right behind you. A gasp of shock lets out, considering how stealthily he must’ve gotten right behind you. 

“You are so " 

“You’re so pretty.”

That got you to shut up. He smiles at how stiff you got from his sudden words as if that wasn’t a completely normal response to what he just said. And the way he said it so endearingly, without a hint of his usual teasing tone, sent a heat wave throughout your entire body. But, like everything else, you shut it down for your protection.

“If that’s your way of taking this cake home, you already have it. Share it with Teucer, and Tonya, and "

“No, Y/N, that’s my way of telling you that you’re the most beautiful woman in Snezhnaya. Or all of Tevyat, for that matter,” He responds with a serious, and slightly frustrated, tone.

“What?” Your voice becomes smaller, almost timid, at his sudden designation. 

“You’re not serious, are you?” He asks, then pauses for a moment, “Y/N, why am I here tonight?”

“You wanted to learn how to make a cake,” You respond.

“You are so difficult, Лисичка, it was never about the damn apple cake!” He cries. By then, the two of you were just an inch away from each other, your exchange of exclamations causing you to get closer and closer. Your eyes narrow at his, physically questioning his statement. 

“ just need to ” He cuts off his statement by placing his hands on your face and bringing it closer to his, before connecting his lips to yours.

Oh.

You return the favor though, and kiss him back. While still pressed together, he takes one of his hands and places it on your back, pushing you even closer to his body. He keeps kissing you, and you keep reciprocating, and that exchange continues. It continues while he walks forward, takes you with him, and presses you up against the closed oven.

He takes his hand out from your back and returns it to your face, caressing your soft cheek with his thumb. Your hand finds itself on the back of Tartaglia’s head, holding onto his thick hair as the other finds itself braced on his chest. 

If you weren’t so lost in the moment, you would’ve freaked out at how toned his abdomen felt through his shirt, but you were too gone to focus on that detail. You let go for a moment, trying to get a breath of air.

He pulls away as well, not for long, and huffs out a breath of air as if he had won some sort of battle. You suppose he had, you didn’t play easy until you let him kiss you so abruptly, but you didn’t care right now. He begins peppering your face completely, from your cheeks to your nose to your forehead, before finding your lips once again and pressing his to yours yet again. You let out a quaint whimper, which he chuckles at through his mouth before you begin to guide him down a small hallway.

To hell with the plans you have. Fuck the loneliness and the walls you’ve built around you for the sake of business. This can’t hurt you too badly.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” You ask out of breath. He nods his head like an excited child, which you smirk at before grabbing his wrist and running upstairs hand in hand.

The cake could wait to be iced in the morning.

⋆｡°✩a/n: can you tell I hate writing slow burn >:))) I just cannot keep them apart!! Thank y’all for reading :) also! I finally learned how to work my inbox so if you have any comments, ideas, or just wanna chat, please feel free!

⋆｡°✩tag list: @inlovewithlondonn @zamorazz @ay4tou @kur0melon @boomie-123 @esthelily @i-simp-for-giyuu @itsflowerdomethings

#childe x reader #childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n #ajax x reader #childe tartagalia #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #fatui x reader #genshin impact fatui #x reader #female reader #romance #fluff

[luneariaa]

this really took me some time to decide on how to actually write the story lmaoo;; ngl the plot got somehow lost 😭

contains angst but comforting ending; not much proofread.

also tagging @sody-toast !!

. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 💜🌻

"So, the usual, Mike?"

The girl behind the cash register machine asks for confirmation, along with a friendly smile plastered upon her face. Mike is spaced out-- as per usual, so when hearing those words, it's enough to bring him back to reality.

"Oh, yes." He gave his own quick reply, before seemingly becoming a bit lost in his own thoughts of the past once again.

"Got it!"

While the girl has her back facing him, he simply waits there silently. But that is, until he sees someone rather familiar from the distance.

He sees you, waving at him while grinning happily from afar outside the bakery he was currently in.

Your sudden appearance sends him into a temporary state of shock, clearly not expecting this. Without wasting any time, he reaches for the door and goes out, the food he ordered being left forgotten as he chases you out while you run someplace.

As his feet hit the hard ground below onto the pavement outside, he eventually caught up to you pretty quickly.

"Hey!"

Slowing down a bit, he grabs your wrist and prevents you from running away any further. "Where do you think you're going, huh?"

He wasn't even realizing that he's been smiling a bit all the while, though it didn't last when he finally realizes that it's not you that he's been chasing. It's just a total stranger who happens to pass by the streets, now looking at him weirdly.

That's not you, never was. He's just trying to convince himself that you were the one who just waved at him. Smiling, laughing at him..

By this point, he just feels pathetic and ashamed of himself.

But was it truly his fault, when all he's trying is to cling to the thin thread that he created upon himself? To come to terms with you being truly gone, but it's a hard process for him despite it happened a few years ago; he lost count.

Just great.

Working at Freddy's once again, and it's already quite exhausting for him. But he needed the job for the cash; for him and Abby.

So far, nothing really interesting has happened, so this leads to him deciding to take a quick nap at his security desk. What could go wrong, right? But the second he closes his eyes, his thoughts immediately drift back to you, replaying old memories that have passed through time.

Mike could remember the days when you both would spend time with each other even with limited time possible. Your eyes would meet his own every so often, a soft smile playing on your lips that's reserved for him.

The look of pure adoration and love in your eyes that he would never get tired of. And you're wearing the outfit that he bought for you during your first date with him.

How could he ever look away whenever you decided to wear it? It looks so perfect on you, he couldn't stop staring for hours shamelessly.

But nothing lasts forever. That's what he keeps trying to remind himself with.

You were supposed to buy something from the store while Mike was away at work around that time of day, but that fateful day has also marked your forever end as well.

You never came back.

The day you died-- it was a hit-and-run accident. Blood was everywhere, even staining your own clothes. Your head was being hit hard on the road, which caused you to go unconscious almost instantly. The phone you previously were holding has flung elsewhere; the screen cracked badly.

Maybe he shouldn't let you out that day. Maybe he should've stayed at home. Maybe, just maybe..

He would've changed the past if he could, but alas, there's nothing that he can do. He's just a human, after all.

A series of painful images flash through his mind while he's still asleep-- one of them being the day he found out that you're being involved in the said accident. He could never forget no matter how hard he tried to.

"No, no, no, no.."

"Not again. Damn it." He covers his face with his own hands out of frustration. He just wants the nightmares to stop.

But at the same moment, he could've sworn he could feel your touch; hugging him from behind. The soft caress of your hand on his back is unmistakable. He could feel it.

Mike takes a few deep breaths, as if to try to compose himself. His attempts to reach back to return your mere touch are futile, nonetheless, only grabbing at the nothingness in the air.

It's a harsh reality, and you are not coming back.

Mike was starting to give up once more, but stopped from doing so when he felt your mere touch on his cheeks. It feels so tender, loving, warm.. He could see you standing in front of him; placing a needed kiss on his forehead affectionately, before a warm smile was plastered on your features.

No words were needed at the moment. He doesn't really care if he's going insane due to the whole situation; he just needed you.

Even when you're not coming back alive-- to him, his memory of you will live on forever.

"Stay." His voice sounded quiet and hoarse, almost begging. "Please.."

You didn't respond, however. But the smile on your face is enough to reassure him that you're there with him at that exact moment.

But it's enough for him. He knows that you'll be with him for as long as he's alive when you start to embrace him ever so tightly and lovingly.

And that's all he needs.

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

#fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy’s #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf x y/n #aria's post 𖥔 ݁ ˖

[viperrot]

⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 1

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au

there's a new guy in town, and he's pretty damn cute. too bad he hates your brother, though.

content contains: mild angst, enemies to lovers, tbh? mean leon, cliches, minor religious/christian themes, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!

3037 words

song rec: "kutsuro gish" by hiroshi takaki

pt. 2

what's this? the blossoming of a series? yes, yes it is! very self-indulgent. i love tropes like this so much. enjoy some mean leon content and a sweet enemies-to-lovers concept, little dove :]

Life in Everglade is... interesting, to say the least. Actually, it was extremely cliché here. Every Sunday and Wednesday, people would go to church, every Friday night was a football game, and the rest of the days were just busy nonsense. The people here rarely ever leave town, and people never really come in. It's been like this for years.

Until recently.

This fall, a handful of strangers tumbled into the little town of Everglade, proud home of the Everglade Ravens. Lucky for me, they even moved in across the street.

From my little window nook, I watch a dingy U-Haul pull up into the driveway across the street, and out comes four people. The first is a man that looks to be in his mid forties, dressed in khakis and a navy polo. Next is a little girl, who looks like a middle schooler. She's got a long skirt on and a flannel sweater, coloured with warm red and browns. After her is what I assume is an elder sister, but she doesn't look much older than the little one.. She's dressed in messy, paint-stained jeans, a black tank-top, and a pink windbreaker jacket to top it all off. She's the only brunette one out of the blonde family so far.

Then comes out the son.

Dragging himself out of the passenger seat was the most dashing boy I've ever seen. The smile he gives his sisters make my heart race—it honestly put Danny Zuko's smile to shame, and I love Grease! His blonde hair is parted to the side, hiding his eyes a bit. He's dressed up in blue jeans that grip around his thighs perfectly, a black t-shirt, and a navy-blue bomber jacket that had the sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms. From my spot at the window, I couldn't help but ogle. The mystery family all gathered around the front door of their new home to get a good look of the inside, and I couldn't help but keep my attention on the only son of the family. I noticed how their was no mother to be seen...

"Hey, thumper," a voice calls out from the door of my room. I tear my eyes away from the window to see my father, leaning against the frame of my door with his arms crossed. "He's been calling me thumper ever since I was little, seeing as how I stomp my foot when I laugh.

"Hey, pops! What's up?" I cock my head to the side questioningly.

"Mom's done with dinner. Meet ya downstairs, or are you gunna keep 'practicin''?" He smirks teasingly, looking at my unused oboe on the foot of my bed. I blush, rolling my eyes.

"I'll be down there... and I was practicing, thank you very much!" I huff. Dad just laughs at me and waves his hand, mumbling about how he'll see me at the dinner table. With that, I get up to collect myself. I take a quick look out the window one more time just to see if the boy next door was still outside, but the front door was shut tight.

I stumble down the stairs, my bunny slippers skidding down the steps as the smell of baked chicken filled my nostrils. Upon entering the dining room, I see my dad at the head of the table accompanied by my mom and my older brother, Damien, who sighs at the sight of me.

"Finally, you're here," Damien huffs. "Can you sit down now? I'm fuckin' hungry," he stretches his hand out to me so I can sit down and say grace with everyone. My dad throws a pen from his breast-pocket at my dumb brother, telling him to watch his language.

I sit at the other end across from Damien to avoid saying grace with him, holding hands instead with Mom and Dad with my head bowed down.

"Ahem... Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen," my mother says. Immediately after the prayer, Damien scarfs down the first piece of chicken he can get his hands on. I pick at some au gratin while my parents converse and scold Dami for being such a disgusting eater. I clear my throat to catch my parents' attention when they grow silent.

"So... uhm... There's new people across the street. Do you maybe... know about them?" I ask, giving my parents side glances. Mom shakes her head as a no, and before Dad can say anything, Damien coughs up a response.

"That punk Leon's the ace player from Greensmell's soccer team!" My older brother snorts, seemingly a bit angry.

So his name's Leon...

What Damien meant to say was Greenvale, which is a town over. They're probably Everglade High School's biggest rival in ever aspect—academics, sports, and even parties (apparently, I wouldn't know). The only thing I can confidently say they're bad at is marching. Their band is horrendous.

"Seriously?" I cringe at the information. "What are they doing here...?" I wonder under my breath.

"Probably got so embarrassed we beat 'em at state champ this year, the wimp probably got kicked out and thrown into Everglade!" Damien shouts with a mouthful of rice. I cringe at the sight, looking back down at my untouched au gratin.

"Cool, cool..." I mumble. "Uh... can I be excused? M'not really hungry," I ask Dad. He nods, going back to his food. Wordlessly, I take my plate to the kitchen to clean it up. As I wash dishes, I stare out the window blankly, eyes set on the house across the street. No one was out still.

I decide it's best to just go to bed after washing dishes, putting my oboe back in its case and setting it next to my backpack. I flop into my bed, part of me hoping to see this Leon guy again soon...

I hate gossip.

I can never tell if people are talking about me, the people around me, or to me. As I walk the halls of Everglade High School, oboe and trumpet cases held tight in my hands, I hear the little murmurs of the cliques of the school. Punks mumbling, girl's that try too hard to look like Sandra Dee whispering behind their palms, and some jocks laughing loudly about Leon.

Wait, Leon?

My converse-clad feet are walking through the hall faster now. As I bump past a bunch of students, I speed my way down to the lunch room, needing to see my friends as soon as possible. Luckily, one of them sticks out like a sore thumb today. Sporting a red blazer, blue flannel tennis skirt, and black socks, I see Samantha Grey in all her glory sitting on top of our usual table, talking to a few of our little group. I stomp up to her, the charms on my instrument cases clinking softly with each step.

"Sammy!" I whisper-yell. Her brown eyes immediately look over to my position in front of her, her black hair swaying.

"Hey, sweet pea~!" She coos happily, a big smile painting her face as she gets down from the tabletop to give me a hug. "Glad you aren't too late. Me 'n' the girls were just talkin' about the new hunk in town," she pinches my cheek before helping me set my cases down on the table. I sit next to her, getting settled.

"Hunk? What's this about?" I stare, acting like I didn't know who they were chittering about. Across from Sammy and me is Lucy Brail and Patti James, who I've known since diapers along with Samantha. Lucy is the first to speak up, clearly excited to talk about Leon.

"This stud just moved into town yesterday! Apparently, he's got two little sisters at the middle school, 'n all the boys here have been howlin' about how he probably got kicked outta the Greenvale soccer team after losing nationals this year!" She says with a grin that reaches her ears. My eyebrows knit together at the information that I had heard the night before.

"You call almost every meathead here a stud, Lucy," I chuckle. She gives me a weird look before scoffing.

"This one's different, sweet pea," Sammy jabs me in the side softly, and I yelp. "He's got this look in his eyes that just scream at me like he wants me!" She sighs dreamily.

"Are you sure it wasn't his pecs you were lookin' at?" I click my tongue. Another jab to the side, and it hurts a little more than the last. I roll my eyes.

"Whatever, I'm sure he's just like the oth-"

"Oh! Oh!! There he is, sweet pea, look!" Sammy grabs me by the jaw to turn my sights to the new guy.

There he is...

Across the lunch hall is Leon, dressed all pretty in a forest green letterman jacket with his initials on the right bicep. There's a few patches from some bands he likes and a big ole "11" on the back of it with "Greenvale" above it. He's still in tight jeans, but they're black this time, as well as his t-shirt beneath the well-worn coat.

"He's got some nerve wearin' that here," Patti mutters. We all hum in agreement as we watch him saunter over to the lunch line to get a carton of strawberry milk.

"Ain't he just a dream~?" Sammy breathes out. Lucy's got this blush that could be seen from Mars, and I swear that Patti's mouth is gunna get dry with how much she's drooling. My gaze is trained on the back of Leon's head, looking at how well-trimmed his hair is.

"He's... he is pretty cute," I mumble, jaw hurting a bit with how tight my best friend was gripping onto it. I hear her giggle.

"Don't get sweet on him now, thumper!" She reminds me, using that silly nickname. “God knows your brother would tear you a new one if he found out you wanted to get a piece of Leon Scott Kennedy," she lets go of my jaw, and I roll my eyes.

"M'not sweet on anyone, Sam," I grumble. Lucy giggles, twirling a strand of her blonde curls in her fingers.

"Isn't he right next to your house, (y/n)?" She asks me. I nod.

"Yeah, actually... How did you know?"

"Oh, sweet pea?! Please, please, please tell me you gotta good view of him from your room! If so, I'm comin' over every weekend!!!" Samantha begs, shaking me by the shoulder.

"H-hey, quit it! I dunno if he's gunna be upstairs or not, and that's c-creepy!" I gasp as she shook me. Lucy and Patti laugh as I get thrashed around. From the corner of my eye, I see Leon get closer. He's got a mean look in his eyes, like he's ready to bite someone if they get near him.

I guess he's trying to protect his peace...

The girls grow silent as he walks past our table, not showing any mind to how noisy we are. They all watch Leon like dogs to a bone when he scoots past us, tossing his milk carton in the air like he hasn't a single worry in the world. When he's gone, it's like we can all breathe again.

"Oh lord, he even smells good," Patti fans herself, a blush covering up her little freckles. Sammy grins in agreement, clearly happy that she got to see the new guy so close. I stick my tongue out in disgust.

“You guys are so gross…”

“Everyone, please welcome our new student,” Mrs. Bradshaw, the advanced chemistry teacher here at Everglade High, drones, motioning her hand to Leon near the back of the class.

And also next to me.

The blonde boy stands up, puffing up his chest a little.

“Name’s Leon Kennedy. Nice to meet you,” he says curtly before sitting right back down. Everyone’s giving him looks ranging from “I wanna rip his throat out” to “I want to kiss him behind the bleachers”, and it’s clear that he doesn’t care about it either. Mrs. Bradshaw clears her throat to stop annoying students from whispering.

“Now, let’s get started on our calorimetry unit. To begin…” The old hag’s words begin to go process in my brain as I get to writing notes. At times, I look at Leon from the corner of my eyes.

He’s writing on a piece of paper instead of a notebook, his blue ballpoint pen scraping against the surface as he messily jots down his notes. I’m pleasantly surprised to see that he actually cares about his education! I can see Leon’s tongue poking out between his plump lips, and I can’t help but stare a little. He doesn’t seem to notice me, until he looks up to check the blackboard up front.

Leon’s blue eyes set their sights on me, locking with mine. Quickly, I avert my gaze back to my notebook, trying my best to act like I was still writing notes. I hear him laugh a little next to me, but I make no effort to speak up.

When the class ends, and the bell for the next period rings, I gather my things to head off to the band room. Backpack slugged over my shoulders, I’m getting ready to pick up my trumpet and oboe case before someone else grabs of for me. Big, veiny hands take the cases by the leather handle, lifting it before my eyes. I look up to see Leon with a devilish smile.

“Caught you staring at me. Mind if I walk with you?” He says confidently. I’m a bit taken aback by his attitude, but I nod nonetheless. I’ve never really had a boy offer to walk me to class other than Damien…

“I can hold my-“

“Nah, don’t worry bout it. I carry my sister’s euphonium all the time,” he chuckles, his shoulders shaking a little as he does. I blush, not expecting him to even know what a euphonium is. So, he’s cute AND he knows the difference between a tuba and a euphonium..

“Are you sure? I-I mean, I don’t want it to be a hass-“

“Don’t worrrrryy,” he exaggerates. “Where are you headed? This is my study hall period, so I got time,” he grins.

“Uh… the band room. A-and thanks,” I tell him, nervously fiddling with my fingers. We walk out of the science lab together, me trailing slightly behind him as we walk.

“So, I’m guessing you and your little posse this morning was talking about me?” He asks, and I feel the blood rush up to my face.

Samantha and her big ole mouth…!

“Y-yeah…” I stammer, unsure of what to say. “Sorry about that… It’s just… we never really have any newcomers here, so the girls were just excited,” I bite my lip. I can feel the stares of people around us in the halls. Whether it’s out of jealousy towards me or hate for him, I’ve no clue.

“I see,” Leon hums. “It was kinda funny, so don’t apologize.” He says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. His fingers are gripping the handle of my cases tight enough to make his veins bulge a little, and I can’t help but stare. After our small talk, it’s quiet, and when we make it to the band room, we stop next to the door so he can give me back my things. As Leon hands over my instruments, footsteps thunder toward our position.

“You know, I thought it was just some sick joke hearing about my lil sister hangin’ around you, but I see that the rumours are true,” Damien growls, walking towards Leon and me slowly with his hands in the pockets of his black letterman. The blonde boy in front of me is still holding my oboe case as he looks at my older brother with an unamused stare.

“Well, had I known she was related to you, I would have never offered to carry her junk,” the ace smiled. I felt my heart drop at his words.

And then it felt like the world came crashing down on me.

Like it was fire, Leon let go of my oboe case, and it clatters against the floor. He’s staring my brother dead in the eyes as he does so, and I can feel tears swell in my eyes. I watch as my reeds, feather, and parts of the oboe pop out of the hard case, scraping against the floors of the hall.

“N-no!!” I yelp, unable to hold back my tears as I drop to my knees to gather the parts. A key or two had bent, and a few corks were damaged. I hear Damien shout at Leon, slamming his body into a locker. I don’t understand what they’re yelling about, too busy trying to pick up the bits of my instrument. More voices erupt, and I assume they’re people trying to pull my brother off of Leon Kenne-dick. My feather gets swept away amidst the commotion. When everything but that is successfully stuffed back into my case, I snap my head around to glare at the ace soccer player behind glossy eyes.

“You’re fuckin’ paying for this, you piece of shit!” Damien screams, thrashing against some teachers who dragged him away from the scene. Leon’s being escorted away as well, not giving me a chance to say anything. I’m left alone in the hall with my broken oboe before Samantha scurries out.

“Sweet pea! We heard all the ruckus, but Mr. Kay said it wasn’t safe for us to be out, and—oh, sugar…” she gasps lightly, crouching down next to me. The ravenette looks down at my open case, seeing the broken and bent keys and chipped corks. “Who did this…?” She asked me gently, setting her chin on my shoulder.

“Leon…” I hiccup, tears falling. The silence is heavy when I tell her this, and I know that Sammy can only see red. Without a word, she wipes my tears with her thumb before helping me into the band room.

I’m starting to regret wanting to see him again.

woohoo! chapitre un, fini :] i know it’s a bit lacking, but it’s just the beginning. hope you enjoyed! pt. 2 here!

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #fanfic #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil/biohazard #biohazard #angst #leon kennedy angst #>>high school sweethearts: LSK #leon kennedy x reader angst #leon kennedy x reader au #high school au #slowburn

[madnessatdawn]

Okay but last one piece live action thing from me. But Mihawk had one of the funniest and most entertaining days very early on hands down.

Let me run this down for you guys. He a gets call from the vice admiral of the Marines who tells him to go get this random person alive. Whose name is Monkey d Luffy. So at this point Mihawk is probably thinking 🤔.

Isn't that the last name of the vice admiral

Later this dude just randomly starts talking to him. Very interesting ass things right like how he fought the Marines and like did a bunch of crap. Which s probably thinking that's neat and all. And hey this weirdo isnt freaked out by me. So at least this trip isn't entirely boring. Until Usopp mentions Luffy, then his thoughts would lead to wait is that why Garp called me.

This day has been pretty chill slightly so far got to murder a bunch of dudes got to hear some cool stories he'll finish this job pretty quick. Until what do you know a fan boy comes along saying he's going to kill me oh la dee da.

All right might as well get in some murder stretches and then get that monkey kid.

And then the next morning many interesting things happen for Mihawk. He finally sees Luffy and oh wait that kids wearing shank's hat. Like he distinctly remembers that hat and shanks telling him about this kid he gave the hat to. And then the other realization of oh man is that kid the vice admirals grandson and hes a pirate oh man. Oh now everything is getting juicy.

Finally the coup de gras is oh man the fan boy actually got some chops holy shit what a surprise. And hearing luffy's dream with the cherry on top. So inhis head he's like okay I am not taking that kid he is going to do some very interesting things for the sea and one of his crewmates is Zoro who clearly is a seedling that is going to sprout into a murderous hell beast one day who could actually kill me he's got to stay alive.

And then he just goes to Garp to tell him hey yeah your kids funny. And he's very likely going to royally turn over the seas so I'm not taking him in. And then he's like damn where do I find shanks I got to tell him about this shit.

#dracule mihawk #one piece #one piece live action #opla spoilers #spoilers #like in the manga #he's still fight Zoro just none of the other stuff was attached #juat a fun time for the hot goth man