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ddejavvu · 10 months

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pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

summary: your starbucks order is a little too complicated for aaron to understand.

Aaron, in many ways, acts like a father. He's stern when he notices one of his agents on their phones during a case, he scolds Reid for not getting enough sleep, and he's infinitely grumpy when traffic is poor. It means that when he swings the van into a starbucks drive-thru on your way back to the precinct, you feel like a kid on Christmas.

"Hotch!" You squeal, mouth already watering in anticipation of your favorite drink, "I knew you were my favorite."

He lets a small, amused smile grace his typically stoic features, hands relaxed at the wheel as he maneuvers the van beside the window.

"Hi, what can I get for you today?" The speakers emit a crackly voice, and you're sure the person on the other end can't be over 20.

"One tall dark roast, and-" Aaron recites, then turns to you, "What do you want?"

Aaron's never heard so many words jumbled together before. You spit the name of your drink like it's lyrics to a song, an unintelligible rhythm to them that Aaron is helplessly lost amidst. You must have told him twenty separate terms, stringing them together in a way he could never hope to reproduce. He blinks once, his jaw shifted so that his lips part slightly.

"What?"

You huff out a laugh, "A-"

"Will that be all for you today, sir?"

Tense, realizing you have no time to coach Aaron on your hyperspecific drink, you surge forwards, nimble hands undoing your seatbelt as you lean across Aaron to speak into the receiver.

Out of reflex, your hand falls to his thigh to brace yourself, and the muscles are strong beneath your fingers. You nearly jumble up your own drink order, especially at the way his breath hitches when you practically crawl over his lap in the seat to stick your head towards the window.

Aaron's never been this close to you before. Not like this, not with your hand on his thigh and your ass not far behind. If he were to glance down, which he won't, he could see straight down your top. He won't, though. He wouldn't have a clear enough head for driving if he did.

Aaron didn't catch your drink order before, and he's certainly not able to now, too overwhelmed by the scent of your perfume and the feeling of your palm braced steadily against his thigh. You dig your fingers into the fabric of his dress pants for stability and he hopes you can't feel the way his slacks tighten ever-so-slightly, cursing himself for chubbing up like a horny teen.

"Okay," The employee hums, furiously pressing buttons on the computer to complete your order, "Is that all for you folks?"

"That's it," You hum cheerily, "Thank you!"

"$11.87,", the voice comes back, not nearly as jovial as you.

You unstick yourself from Aaron's thigh, knee aching from where it had been balanced on the center console. You send him a sheepish smile when your faces are only inches away, lips plumping as they curl.

"Sorry," You breathe, settling back in your seat so that Aaron can pull up to the next window, "I know it's complicated. I didn't think to prep you. I panicked."

"It's alright," He manages to find his voice, using every ounce of strength in his body to fight against the speechlessness that threatens to overtake him. He hands his card to the woman at the window, and sees you already reaching for your wallet to pay him back. He won't let you.

He pulls up to the next window and clears the cupholder of someone's old plastic water bottle, "I don't even think Garcia has that long of an order. And she's notorious for trying pinterest brews."

"It's complicated, but it's good," You gush, happily taking the drink from him when he's handed it by the man in the window. Aaron's surprised they managed to concoct yours in under twenty minutes. Your lipstick leaves a prim stain on the white lid, and you hum in pleasure, "Ooh, they made it just right."

Aaron sips at his own bitter roast, using one hand to steer as he fumbles to fit his drink in the small cupholder. He's got his eyes on the road, and his hands occupied, so he's a little frazzled when the rim of your drink pops into sight beside his face.

"Wanna try some?"

"That's okay, my hands are full." He hums, seriously considering just crashing the car to have a hand to take your drink with. He can't believe he's missing the opportunity to fit his lips over residue of your own, press his mouth to that pretty pink kiss mark you'd left in your wake.

"It's alright, here." You hold the drink to his lips, "I got it."

Aaron steals a glance at the cup as he fits his mouth around the spout, spending as much time as he can staring at your lipstick on the rim before looking back up at the road. You tilt the cup towards him, and the drink floods his mouth, excessively sweet and creamy.

He nods and you lower the cup again, careful not to spill any on his neat, white dress shirt. He hums at the taste, hoping you share a similar one, "That's good. Very sweet."

"Mhm." You agree, raising the drink to your own lips again. Aaron feels a sheen of grainy residue on his lips, and he's hoping it's not the stain of your lipstick, just the feeling of it.

He's unlucky.

"Oh, Hotch," You laugh, "There's lipstick on your face. Hang on," You lean over, smearing your thumb against the very corner of his mouth, "There. Sorry," You're sheepish as you settle back into your seat, "The perks of sharing drinks, I guess."

Aaron thinks he'll remember the feeling of your hand pressed against his face for eternity, and he'd be willing to suck down a thousand cups of liquid sugar just to feel it again.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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veryberryjelly · 5 months

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fidget

felix catton x fem!reader

cw : none, no mention of y/n.

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

saltburn was your favourite place to be.

you had been spending your summers there since you were 14 and you met felix at school.

at 16 felix decided to kiss you by the lake and you had been inseparable since then.

even at oxford, it was very rare that you'd spend a night alone, either sleeping in felix's dorm or having him over at yours.

your summers at the house were always enjoyable, unless god forbid you fell unwell over the time you stayed there.

and unfortunately, that had happened this year.

you were curled up in your bed, curtains drawn as the burning sun heated up the entire room.

even with the warmth from the sun, the hot water bottle on your stomach and the duvet over your body, you were still shivering.

of course your period had to come on the hottest day of the year, when you would be constantly taking off your covers and putting them back on moments later.

your eyes were clenched shut as you willed yourself to fall asleep so you could wake up and be rid of your devilish cramps.

but of course, that was not what god had in store for you as your boyfriend burst into your room.

" mornin' sweetheart " he said, making his way over to your bed where he sat down , his hand lifting to brush some hair from your face. " what're you doing sleeping in here? i was waiting for you last night "

while you would normally relish in the feeling of felix playing with your hair, right now everything was sensitive and you couldnt take it.

" you were asleep when i came in, didnt want to wake you " you muttered, clearly lying through your teeth as you lifted your hand to move his off of your face, instead choosing to loop your little finger through his.

that was about much touch as you could handle at the moment.

felix was not having that as the reason. you knew he didnt care if you woke him up, as long as he woke up to you in his arms. it was then that he noticed the furrow in your brow and the lick of sweat over your forehead.

" what's up, sweetness? you dont look so good " he said, shifting a little closer to you, his leg lifting up onto the bed so you couldnt avoid this conversation.

you were hesitant, never having discussed this with felix before as there wasnt ever a need to, but the soft movement of him sliding his hand into your practically made you melt.

" i got my period last night, didnt want to stain your sheets or keep you up with my fidgeting " whenever you got cramps it was impossible to get comfortable. no position was good enough to ease the storm in your uterus.

" so you deprived me of your cuddles last night because you didnt want to ruin my sheets? " he asked, his brow raising incredulously.

" didn't think you'd want to deal with my fidgeting either. " you admitted, clutching your hot water bottle a little tighter.

" oh, baby, i don't care. i want to be there for you when you're not feeling good. " he explained, shifting on the bed again so he was sat up agains the headboard. " now because you robbed me of your company last night, you have no choice in letting me take care of you now. " he said with a soft smile.

" you don't have to do that, lex- "

you were swiftly cut off by felix " i dont have to, but i want to. i'm going to get you something to drink, then how would you feel about a bath ?"

you had to admit that sounded amazing, being engulfed in warm water for a little while.

" that sounds really nice " you agreed, lifting your head slightly to rest against his leg, still clad in his pyjama pants. " but dont leave yet "

your final word caused a soft laugh to come from his lips, his hand lifting to rest on your back, the other still clutched in yours.

" okay, we can stay here a while "

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triptuckers · 5 months

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on the bottom of the lake - percy jackson

Request: yes! "I love ur writing!! could you write something w Percy helping anxious reader?? I’ve been super stressed lately and idk this show is keeping me sane lmao" Pairing: Percy Jackson x reader Summary: you've been stressed and percy knows the perfect way to help you relax Warnings: reader being stressed, some swearing, anxiety Word count: 917 A/N: I drew so many pjo characters yesterday I cant wait to share them when I'm done with them :) thanks for your request, enjoy!

you don't know if you've ever felt like this. sure, you'd been stressed before. but now you're losing sleep over it. and not a few hours, just nights without zero sleep at all.

you've got a big project you need to do for school over the summer. if you call, it'll be your last strike and you'd be expelled. like it was your fault you had trouble reading and concentrating.

when you arrived at camp half-blood at the start of summer, you thought some of your worries would go away.

the opposite happened.

you saw everyone around you having a good time. they didn't have to worry about some project. they slept peacefully from night til morning.

even if you can't work on your project, you're constantly thinking about it. your mind never rests.

percy noticed you've been stressed and tries to talk to you about it, but you always shut him down. it's enough to think about it all the time, let alone talk about it.

after a couple of days, percy tries again. he really wants to help you, but he don't know why.

'hey, y/n?' says percy.

'what's up?' you say, looking up at him. you're supposed to help your cabin prepare for tonight's bonfire, but so far you're not helping much.

'about your project-'

'gods, will you leave it alone, percy!' you burst out. 'I think about that fucking project all day don't you start about it as well!'

percy takes a step back and you realise it's because of you.

'I'm sorry! sorry!' you say, getting up and grabbing one of his hands. 'I'm so sorry I didn't mean it.'

you feel tears slowly starting to fall.

'hey, it's okay.' says percy softly. he reaches up and brushes a tear from your cheek. 'want to go to the lake for a while?'

you nod. percy leads you to the lake. you close your eyes and let the breeze calm you down. but still the project is on your mind. if you go to your cabin now, you could get some work done.

percy tugs on your hand and you open your eyes to look at him.

'get in.' he says, nodding his head toward the lake.

'now?'

percy nods.

'percy, I don't want to go swimming right now.'

'do you trust me?'

'of course.'

'then get in.'

you sigh. what did you have to lose? maybe a swim would be nice.

'let me get my bathing suit.' you say.

'nope.' says percy, pulling you by your hand as he jumps in the lake. before you can stop him, you're pulled forward by his momentum. seconds later, the water surrounds you.

you want to yell at him for getting your clothes soaked, but you remember you're under water. once you get your bearings, you open your eyes, letting them get accustomed to the water.

you try to swim to the surface, but percy still holds on to your hand and pulls you further down, all the way to the bottom of the lake.

good for him, he's a poseidon kid. you aren't. you can't breathe underwater. surely percy knows that right?

he lets go of you hands and swims to the bottom of the lake.

you're going to have to go up for air soon.

you can see percy sitting down on the ocean floor, gesturing at you to join him. you squint your eyes. it looks like the water is less murky down there.

you let yourself sink down to percy's level. the water is less murky here because there is no water here.

'I didn't know you could do this.' you say, looking around the air bubble you're in.

'pretty cool, right?' says percy, smiling proudly.

'why are we here?'

'I mostly come here when I need to be alone. if you sit here in silence for a while, the fish will come up to you. and I always thought the waves are soothing to look at from down here.'

you look up and watch the waves for a while. sunlight pours through the water, giving it a soft glow.

you move closer to percy and rest your head on his shoulder.

the two of you sit there for a while. and percy was right. after some time, fish start to swim around your bubble.

percy tells you about the lake and the animals and after a while even two water nymphs come to say hello. percy knows them and introduces you to them.

you sit there for so long you lose track of time. it's getting late, so you decide to swim up to the surface.

normally you would have been soaked, but thanks to percy you're warm and dry.

you stifle a yawn as percy takes your hand in his and starts walking towards the cabins.

'thank you, that was nice.' you say.

'one of the bonuses of dating a poseidon kid.' says percy, lightly squeezing your hand.

he notices you hadn't talked about your project at all when you were in the lake. and you look genuinely tired. he hopes you can get at least one good nights sleep tonight.

'want to stay at my cabin tonight?' he says.

you smile and nod. 'yeah I'd like that.'

the two of you head to percy's cabin to get some sleep. and percy had been right, you got a good night of uninterrupted sleep. you dreamt of nothing but the comfort of the lake, and percy's presence next to you.

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#pjo #percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #Percy Jackson fanfiction #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson fanfics #Percy Jackson fic #Percy Jackson fics #Percy Jackson oneshot #Percy Jackson oneshots #pjo fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfics #pjo fic #pjo fics #pjo oneshot #pjo oneshots

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erwinsvow · 1 month

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please do bsf rafe flirting with reader while he’s drunk and she’s trying to put him to bed but he just cuddles her and tells her how much he has feelings for her

this with kook trio readerrr omg <3 in my head, rafe's version of admitting feelings is being aggressively posessive. when they finally start dating shes like why didnt you say something sooner? and hes like wym ive been claiming you since the start

you were so used to rafe taking care of you—bringing you home to tannyhill with him, making sure you took a tylenol before you fell asleep on his bed, a clean frat shirt of his waiting for you in the bathroom.

he was such a good friend to you. when times like this came along, you tried your best to repay the favor.

you think rafe's got it easier, though. he alway manhandles you into position, can carry you up the stairs when you're stumbling and force the pill and water down your throat when you're resisting. you're usually too drunk to remember rafe's hand on your jaw, opening your mouth for you and trying to coax you into taking it, telling you repeatedly you'll be grateful he did it in the morning.

"you are such a dick," you mutter, staring at the bottle of tylenol in your hand and the empty cup of water on the nightstand. he's just spilled the water all over his floor in a drunken stupor, and you suddenly hate that he ever made you feel bad about how much he has to take care of you when you're the drunk one.

rafe is ten times worse than you could ever be.

"thinkin 'bout my dick, are'ya?" he slurs back at you, and then laughs at his own joke. he's laying flat on his bed now, still in the same clothes he wore to the party, shoes and watch still on. getting him into the house and up the stairs was hard enough, even with top and kelce's help, but they'd jumped ship the second you got rafe into bed.

"all yours now, princess," kelce said, grabbing the keys to his car.

"yeah, good luck. i've never seen him so drunk," top adds.

"you're both just leaving me with him?" you cry out, but the hallway is empty when you finally get your wrist out of rafe's grip. rafe had mumbled something from his position, but you hadn't heard it.

twenty minutes later, you still hadn't gotten rafe to drink any water or change his clothes. all his energy seemed to be focused on getting you to curl up next to him.

"c'mon! just get into bed, m'fuckin tired-" he grumbles again, latching onto your arm while you try to at least get his shoes off.

"you can't sleep with your sneakers on, rafe-"

"who cares? i like my sneakers-"

"that's great, but your sheets-"

"but not as much as i like you. hah. that's fuckin' cheesy." you turn to look at your drunken best friend, his flushed cheeks and the way his eyes are closed while talking to you. you laugh, unable to hold it back.

"thanks, rafe. i like you too. enough to get your shoes off because you will so regret this tomorrow morning."

"don't regret anything." his eyes open, staring at you while you stare at his shoes. "shit. you're pretty."

you don't even address his comment—he's drunk beyond belief and you know you're pretty. after you untie his laces for him, he kicks off his shoes. you sigh a breath of relief.

"okay, rafe, do you want to sleep in these clothes or should i find pajamas?"

"how 'bout we sleep naked? there's an idea."

"stop being a perv. otherwise i'm gonna go cuddle with kelce instead." you laugh to yourself—the whole thing is a joke. you and rafe don't cuddle, at least not on purpose. you go to bed facing him but somehow always wake up with your limbs tangled and your hair in his face.

"sure. if you want me to kill kelce."

"oh my god, dramatic much?" you turn back to rafe to see if he's laughing, but he's not, looking right at you and sitting up.

"m'not kidding. don't joke about that. you're fuckin' mine, don't forget it."

he lays back down. you pause, eyebrows knitting while you think about the sentence rafe just said. he's drunk, so he must be joking. right?

"c'mon wanna sleep. get into bed." he grumbles again, and you comply, still a little shellshocked. you turn off the lamp and get into bed, and you don't even feel surprised when rafe pulls you in. you rest your head against his chest, and you don't stop thinking about what he said until you fall asleep.

#eee <3 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #kook trio reader

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songsofadelaide · 8 months

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cw/tw: sickfic, fluff, reader has she/her pronouns, gojo being a little silly. wc: 666

"She's down with a fever, so don't get any ideas, Gojo."

"Wh— You talk as if I'm going to do something nefarious to her, Shoko!"

"Nefarious, no, but idiotic, probably. Do all of us a favour and steer clear of her in the meantime. We don't want others catching this bug."

They say fever dreams are usually unpleasant, but why was this some kind of replay of one of your favourite high school memories instead? Favourite except for the fact that you were sick.

"Y'know I've never really actually gotten sick before because of my infinity and all…"

A cool hand is pressed to your burning forehead, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you come into contact with it.

"Yikes, she's actually burning up!"

"That's why I told you to stay away. If you or anyone else catches this, I am going to lock you all in the morgue for all I care."

"You'd do that to her?!"

"Not her, of course!"

Getting sick is probably one of the worst things that could ever happen to you. Some days, you can't seem to sweep your condition under the rug, no matter how hard you try to be normal about it. A cold was starkly different from being cursed and it was such a normal thing that Shoko had no other choice but to treat it normally— by telling you to drink your meds and get some rest.

Nanami said he'd handle your pending mission, so rest you did.

There was nothing at all restful about having to stay on campus, though, with Shoko saying she could keep a better eye on your condition there. You felt like the walls and the halls already knew so much. The happiness of your youth, the sadness and anguish of having friends perish before your very eyes, and the bittersweetness of your first love.

"Pain, pain, go away…"

Your first love that seemed to stalk the halls of the magic college, for some reason.

"Come again another day…"

The humming sounded far too real now to be a dream, even more so when the same cool touch was pressed to your forehead again. "Ah…"

"It's okay, you can sleep some more."

In fear you may be in delirium, you opened your eyes and found Satoru seated right by your bedside, a wet towel and a basin of water right next to him. "Satoru?…"

"Sorry. Did I wake ya?" He asked, though you couldn't get a read on his expression with that ridiculous blindfold over his eyes. "Heard from Shoko that you were sick, so…"

"Didn't she tell you not to come over?" You said with a sigh.

"No need to be so worried about me. I've never really actually gotten sick before because of my infinity."

"I know, I know. You've always been too invincible."

He brushed his cold knuckles over your forehead once more, finally drawing out a tired smile from you. "Do you want me to grab you some ice water or something?"

"No, I'm good…" You told him, gently holding him back from moving away from you. When he realised what you meant, he placed his hand over your forehead again. "You're like a popsicle."

It was his turn to chuckle this time. "Ramune flavour?"

"Exactly."

Satoru slightly moved to reach for your hand, clammy as it was, his cold fingers curling around your warmer ones, and somehow, you can't really tell if all of this is real.

"Satoru…"

"Yeah, sweets?"

"Can you pinch my hand or something? I feel like I'm in high school again and I'm dreaming all of this up. After all, I like you so much that I might even be hallucinating."

He squeezed your hand with just enough force as if asking, is it real enough yet?

"…Real," you sighed and nodded to yourself. "Sorry…"

"Whatever are you apologising for?" He grinned at you. "You think I don't like hearing about how much you like me, even from before?"

#songsofadelaidewrites💛#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff

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stevieschrodinger · 5 months

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Steve eats, but only because Robin puts food in front of him. Only because she reminds him it's for the pup.

Like he needs reminding. Steve often rests his hand protectively over his rounded tummy. It's reflexive, to protect the only part of Eddie he has left. He feels like he hasn't slept in months, even though he knows he sleeps often, in broken bits and pieces.

He hasn't spoken for a long time, he knows that. Everyone watches him, and everyone used to tell him the same thing, 'they're just dreams Steve, Eddie is gone.'

Steve knows though, they aren't dreams. Eddie is alive, and he's trapped in the Upside Down because Steve didn't try hard enough, didn't push hard enough, didn't say the right things to get the others to believe him.

It upset Dustin the most at first, but Dustin has also been the most adamant because he saw Eddie die, can't even entertain the idea that Eddie might still be alive, because that means he left Eddie behind. That's a lot of guilt to ask a kid to carry.

Steve knows they're talking about him again, like them whispering in the kitchen makes it any better. Steve's starving himself. Steve isn't sleeping. Steve isn't showering. Steve's mate sick even if Eddie never mated him. It's the pup. It's the trauma. It's the nightmares.

They aren't nightmares though, not when Eddie holds him close, laid on a grassy meadow under a sunny blue sky.

El is here, kneeling in front of Steve, 'do you really think Eddie is alive?'

Steve clears his throats, feels full of cobwebs and sand, 'I know he is.'

Steve's said it a thousand different ways. A million. He's cried it and screamed it and shouted it and whispered it and said it as normal and level headed as he could make it sound, 'I am absolutely certain that Eddie is alive,' no one ever believes him.

She nods, 'we will check-'

'El.' It's Hopper, in the doorway, he said 'El' the same way he would say 'No'. 'We talked about this-'

'No, you talked about this. I am tired of this, for Steve, I will check. We will check, just this once.'

And Steve feels too broken to let himself hope, but he heaves himself up off the couch anyway.

El opened a gate in the pool. There's not been water in the pool for quite some time now, and it just seemed apt. A place where there is already a weakness in the world. Perfect for El.

In the end, just to stop the fighting, everyone has gone back to the Upside Down.

Steve squints at the sunny blue sky, not at all surprised to see it. Everyone else is making suitably shocked noises. The grass is green, the trees lush. From the trees, a demodog watches them. It looks different, like it fits here, healthy and well fed now, it shakes and stretches and then lopes off further into the woods.

Everything is overgrown, like the Upside Down is reclaiming everything that One created here.

Nearby, laundry flaps on a washing line, metal band shirts and torn jeans, 'Eddie,' Steve breathes for the first time in over six months, and heads into the house.

There's a bowl of odd looking fruit on the kitchen counter. In the lounge, books. So many books, all stacked and arranged into strange little towers like they are giants in a city, and the books are skyscrapers.

Upstairs, Eddie has clearly nested in Steve's room; there are guitar bits and tools on the desk, two guitars in parts.

The bed is mounded with soft things, Steve scents a pillow, it smells like Eddie...and not.

'Where the fuck is he,' Hopper grumbles.

Steve wants to snap. Wants to scream at them all. They fucking believe him now don't they? They could have had Eddie home months ago if-

Dustin has books from the living room, in the front of each is stamped 'Hawkins Public Library'. So that's where they go.

Steve doesn't know what to do when he spots Eddie. He's crouched on a table, bare toes gripping the edge. He's pale, even more so than before, skin a pale enough alabaster that Steve can see the shadow of blue veins underneath. He's flipping through a book, back and forth, back and forth, before finally stopping and hopping down from the table, 'Eddie?'

Eddie doesn't answer, eyes trained on Steve. His hair has grown, even longer, thick dark curls that Steve wants to bury his hands in.

There's a ticking noise, a low, growling rumble as Eddie stalks closer. Things happen very very quickly, Hopper raises his shotgun, El screams 'no,' Eddie's face peels apart like the petals of a flower filled with teeth as he roars and charges at them.

Hoppers gun is jerked up by an unseen hand, his shot causing plaster to rain down from the ceiling, and then Eddie is floating in the air, roaring as his face blends back to normal and then peels apart again, furious.

El's nose is bleeding, she wipes it away.

Steve moves closer. Eddie looks strange; taller. Leaner. Just, more, somehow.

Steve reaches for him, and Eddie desperately tries to get to him in return, clawing at the air, 'put him down, El.'

'Do not do that-' Hopper starts, but doesn't finish, because Eddie lands neatly on his feet, catlike in his grace, where El drops him.

He lunges for Steve, and Steve let's himself be pulled close and gathered up, Eddie clicking and chittering quietly in Steve's ear, scenting his neck, a strange sucking sensation on his skin as Eddie's face peels apart into one big mouth.

Steve relaxes. He has Eddie back.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #monster eddie munson #eddie muson lives #steddie ficlet #fic idea #ao3 author #the party #mpreg #mpreg belly

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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keep close | joel miller

Summary: It takes you six months to break. You thought you'd last longer. Tried convincing yourself that everything in your head was because he saved you, not because of real attraction. One night, Joel proves that to be wrong. a/n: I'm nothing if a byproduct of my environment. And my environment right now is a mind palace made only of Pedro's role... so here we go. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. [WC: 3.7k] Warnings: Mostly fluff. A hint of indecent thoughts, so maybe reader discretion is advised? Protective!Joel, strangers to friends, unresolved sexual tension.

masterlist

What lived under your skin the most was Joel's duality.

Registering the range of what he was proved to be a difficult task from the very beginning.

Here he was, the man who saved you. The man who somehow, despite the gritty and cruel ways of existence, managed to keep a kind bone in his body. Kind enough to step in when you were in danger, even if he didn't need to. Life-threatening danger—most people would look away these days. But not him. Not Joel.

Here he was, the man who was kind enough to look you in the eye when he saw you crunched down in a corner, sweating profusely due to the wounds and most likely looking like a rabid or wild animal, and still tried putting some calmness to his voice before asking: "Can you walk? I heard you. 'm gonna help, ok?"

That man. The same one who beat the bastards who were keeping you to a pulp. That man, currently, slept only a couple of feet away from you, with his face half-tucked inside his scarf and jacket, and for the first time in your life, you saw Joel... smiling.

It was the first time you witnessed it.

The book on his lap told you he fell asleep mid-chapter. While the sprain and cuts were minor compared to what they could be, Joel fussed as if they were broken bones. The most worrisome part was your ribs, but those, he cut out fabric from an old t-shirt of his ("they're all old now though, aren't they?") and wrapped your body as firmly as he could.

It made you smile, even if only at your own reflection in the bathroom mirror.

How could this be the same man?

Sometimes, you closed your eyes and saw him like that.

Mid-fight, rage and sadness oozing out of him as if they were radiation, his fists flying so fast it seems impossible to catch up to the act.

When violence is needed, Joel breaks the calm surface and introduces outsiders to the storm within.

It goes calm, storm, drizzle.

He'd never change that.

Now that it was too late, Joel would always be this sea of turbulent waters, often hidden by its vastness.

Joel "I will punch you in the throat" Miller asked you very few questions at first.

Dinner on the day he rescued had been awkward, to say the least.

Not that it mattered in the long run.

What was awkwardness in the face of not looking over your shoulder, and what was feeling left out and intrusive in comparison to the jittery stress of always checking if the gun is loaded?

Nothing.

Having two people close by who seemed alright in the head — a rarity, if there ever was one —trumped it all.

Joel and Ellie were headed West. So were you.

It was logical, only. Or it was, at first.

"I could definitely use an extra pair of hands with this one," Joel admitted. It was the first night walking together after one week stationed at the same place to wait for yours and Ellie's healing—a night of dubious whiskey and traded information.

"She doesn't seem that difficult," you answered, eyeing Ellie's sleeping frame on the other side of camp.

He scoffs. "She isn't." His lips pursed in a thin line. "I just—" his shoulders shrugged. "Think she might get bored with just me."

For someone who had barely said a word for a whole week, it was more than you first perceived him to be. "The world's quite a boring place now," you whispered. Then, shrugged your shoulders just the same. I don't care. "I like it."

"Do you?"

"I do." You remembered how noisy things were. So many nowadays lacked the age for that, but not you. "'s nice hearing nature. And that one," you tilted your chin towards Ellie, "should be happy to be alive."

The truth of that hung in the air.

That first conversation sealed it for you—Joel making an effort to ask things and answer your inquiries surprised you.

"Think we can keep her alive 'till we get to the Fireflies base?" Joel asked you.

You thought it over for a second, and came to a conclusion. "We can definitely try." A purpose other than escaping — all you've ever known — and surviving sounded good to you. "And if that's your mission, probabilities of success rise with another member on the team."

That night, all you got out of him was one eyebrow raised. "Is that so?" It sounded teasing, but he looked so serious saying it. "Well. 'm gonna hope you're as good with that rifle as you are with your probabilities."

To his delight, he quickly discovered you were.

Faster, even.

Joel might have risen an eyebrow at first, but your sentence proved to be true in the next couple of months. There's a team there. The two of you do your best at trying, even through hardships.

When there are no Fireflies, you make Ellie look away from the bloodshed. With no clear plan or direction in sight, you're a helpful extra set of eyes when Joel decides it's best to look for Tommy.

In all of the three months where you, Joel, and Ellie head towards Wyoming, a routine is established, and the days looking after each other make it hard to pretend there's any distance between your little group.

Ellie is fond of your Encyclopedia of Unbelievable Facts.

She's a quick learner, an agile fighter with a wicked sense of humor, and enough cursing to rival you in the games of "unladylike shit and sounding like pirates, honestly," as stated by Joel.

He hid a lot of his amusement in scoffs and sighs, you thought.

Joel is fond of doing perimeter checks, sleeping on his side, and 'peace and quiet'.

It takes you a bit to understand that it's easier to pull conversation from him when Ellie is safe and sound. Tucked in her sleeping bag, showering in the river streams (and swearing incessantly under her breath), eating her food.

Without Ellie around, Joel opens up, bit by bit.

He talks about Tess.

About how close he and Tommy always were.

"I bailed him out of jail, y'know? That night of..." he doesn't say it.

Most of us never do. "Did you?"

He chuckles drily. "I did." He shakes his head, sips his water. "Stupid fucker."

"More like lucky fucker." When Joel turns his head to you with furrowed eyebrows, you elaborate. "If you hadn't gone, no more Tommy."

Joel takes a second before nodding. "Yeah."

"Were you always bailing him out of trouble?"

His face softened for a second. Before him, you embraced the darkness as you did the silence, but now, you wished for better lighting. "Often. Once, he and I were at our dad's house on a winter hunting trip. He hated those at first, but before..."

You started living for the stories.

Joel's presence became warm when he shared.

Vivid, and so fucking tempting.

It was all soft whispers back and forth, until the day he dropped her name.

"Sarah."

You knew the second you heard it—an open wound starts smelling the longer it stays open, and this one carried literal weight to it.

A whiff in the wind, and mourning was all over the air.

Joel left, and in the morning, nothing more is said.

Colorado changes everything.

It gives you the smile.

It comes at a cost, like everything else.

Since there's been no Tommy, you advise and convince Joel to check the Fireflies base here, only to find out they're relocated to Salt Lake City. When you three are coming out of the building with the fresh news hot on your laps, a group tries to ambush and kidnap you three.

As it does in this world without order, hell breaks lose.

Other than hell, a lot more breaks—protocol, jaws, ideas, trust.

Theirs thankfully.

You, Joel, and Ellie make it out alive, but not good.

You find a safehouse in a mountain cabin.

"Friend of Tommy's used to live here. Thank fuck it's still here," said Joel.

"Thank fuck indeed 'cause I don't know how much longer I can—oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Joel."

"Hey, hey, take it easy, slow down." Joel is just if not more fucked up than you from the fight, but he's still the one holding you up. He whistles—a call for Ellie. "Help with her other side, we can finish lighting up the place afterward. She needs to lie down."

Ellie hooks her frame underneath your left side, and you thank her with your weak and sweaty smile. "And your sure just lying down and resting will heal her rib?"

"It just cracked. Bones heal, El."

"I'm just checking." Ellie always checks. "You might need some penicillin, too. That knife looked ugly."

"I'll get it once we're all cleaned up. I'll go on a run," says Joel.

You're hurt too, you bastard.

"I'm the only one not limping here, can't I go?" asks Ellie.

"No," you and Joel say in unison. "I'll go tomorrow. I'm bruised, but nothing's infected. I think I saw a warehouse down there."

Ellie sighs next to your ear. Then, she mumbles to you right before you're lied down on the bed. "Bet this will be Pittsburg two."

Pittsburg.

The fight. Joel deciding to save you despite your brother almost ruining Ellie's life.

Joel's frame sleeping next to your cot.

"You shouldn't have run off like that."

Not a single request for your apologies, or a comment on the shitshow that happened before you just 'ran off'.

Joel, the same man who saved you from a group of lunatics by bashing one of their member's head against the nearest tree, huffed and puffed before saying, "you saved Ellie's life by shooting your brother. and... i'm sorry about what came after that."

An apology from him.

How was that fair?

"You don't need—to thank me."

"I do."

"...You just saved my life, Joel."

"Well, you saved Ellie's, so consider us even."

That was then.

That was before deciding you were a team. Before heading West, before finding out about Salt Lake, before the attack.

Joel probably needed to rest himself.

Except—

There he is.

The first thing you think upon waking up in the candle-lit room.

Joel slept next to you, almost as if keeping guard.

It stirs the strings in your chest.

It's one thing to be observed by him after he saved you from those three men because you're bruised and traumatized by the whole thing.

It's whole other to know Joel is just as bruised.

Six months have passed since then.

A lot has happened. More than you could compute, sometimes, but less than your heart desired.

All the struggles, the Infected, the long days of walking, and the hard nights of worrying have molded this new thing into its own ecosystem.

This Joel sleeping on an old mattress right next to you lets Ellie take watch because he trusts her abilities and her notion of danger. He knows if you two prefer your 'apocalypse grub' — an Ellie trademark term — all mixed together or separated, if you can be trusted with the bourbon bottle (no), and that your taste in music is "atrocious but expected" (his words, clearly).

This Joel knew you kept your distance for a reason.

He'd seen it in you, months ago.

And yet, there he was.

With the book — your book — in his lap, sitting with his back to the wall and his legs already tucked inside the raggedy blankets you found in one of the cabinets.

Joel's extensive list of injuries had you waking up in a cold sweat, but the same as you, he seemed to recover fast.

In two days, he's wincing less to get up, and comments on his wishes to go look for pharmaceuticals.

That's the night you wake up to him sleeping—both of you could do it, but he insisted on taking turns.

When your eyes open, first, you see the book.

Then, you notice he moved the mattress closer to yours.

They're touching.

The raggedy blankets make them look like a single bed, and the thought feels foreign.

Next, you notice...

Joel is right there.

Sure, he's a few inches away, but... you could touch his legs if you extended your arm. All it would take is a little bit of wiggling to make a pillow out of his thighs, and you know how much more comfortable than what you have underneath you.

His smile is the last thing you see.

Not because you skipped his face—on the contrary, Joel's face is the first thing you see in the morning and the last you see at night.

Maybe that's why.

He never had this.

A gentle, real smile.

You hardly blame him. There are no reasons to smile nowadays, not for long. Not without sadness poisoning the eyes, or without the grin turning into a grimace.

Joel is smiling.

His dream must be good, because his features all softened somehow.

Good gods, he's handsome.

That's why you look so little at his face. The real reason.

Staring at Joel too much can cause you to think of nothing else, and in month one you learned the lesson of eyes wide open or head blown open wide.

Mistakes meant death.

Joel's eyes crinkled as he lifted one of his mouth's corners in the closest thing that could come off as a 'smile', and that meant distraction, which meant an eventual mistake, and so on.

When your gaze searches for the lines left by his crinkles, Joel's eyes are on you.

As serene as the quietude outside, Joel stares down, and in a contrast to the weather howling cold winds outsides, your body says it is morning, and it rises.

The longer he stares, the more it rises.

Your blood pumps harder under his gaze.

Joel knows that. He has to.

Silence with fixed gazes turns the air into a thick, palpable fog.

Why is he staring? It's probably the busted eyebrow. Busted lip. Joel never stares at you, never looks too long, too hard, never looks enough—

"I can almost hear you thinkin'," Joel's voice is a whisper, but it startles you nonetheless. Not in fear.

Once, somewhere, you read something you never forgot. The body, it always betrays itself. It blushes. It trembles.

It was true.

The shiver is involuntary.

Your mother used to say the sound of sirens meant trouble and ever since, you always heard sirens in your head as you panicked. "Was observin' your hair," laugh, look away, know your place. "It's gettin' whiter."

It gets a chuckle. A tight-lipped smile. "I'm gettin' older."

"So you say." Constantly.

The first reminder of why he kept his distance, probably. Of why he had no interest in you. Too young.

"Doesn't it look like it?"

You shrug, hugging the makeshift pillow tighter under your head. "'m not so sure how old people are supposed to look." Definitely not this good, right? This broad. Soft. Strong "Haven't been around many."

Joel points at himself. "Right here."

"You're not old."

His lip twitches. "No?"

"No."

"I'm over my forties."

"That's not old." You don't know why you're arguing. You never argue.

Joel closes the book, then hums. "I remember the world before it turned to ruins and vines."

Maybe it's because he's so damn close. Your fingers itched to touch him countless times before, but usually, there are more counterarguments in your head as to why you shouldn't. "So do I."

The smile returns to his face, but it's the awake and lucid kind—a little sadistic. Sad. "Let me rectify it—I lived in it."

"So did I." Albeit, not much. "Less than you, though." A decade or so more. Almost two.

"Right." Joel takes a deep breath, and the movement quiets you down.

Sometimes, you wished you had just a few years more. Five, or six would suffice. Would he look at you, then?

As the silence goes on, your mind starts with at least three different scenarios where Joel met you under different circumstances.

"Can't sleep anymore?"

There's no shiver this time, but you look up at him again, desperate to see some more of his sleepy eyes and that damned smile.

"Don't know," you whisper.

If he smiles again, you'll count the night as a win. Tuck his happiness somewhere out in the front of your mind to see if it occupies space. If it makes you think less of what he used to be like as a lover.

The tainted thoughts always make you avert your eyes, but this time, you have the benefit of only candle lights, so you let the embarrassment burn you as you keep staring.

Joel is looking at your face the same way. Heavy eyelids, gaze searching.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

The question makes your brain swim in the lingering pain, but for other reasons.

Every scenario still opened in your mind leads to the same corridor—he placed his big hands on your neck right now to feel your temperature and caressed somewhere in your body to put you to sleep.

Somewhere he could touch the skin.

Through foggy vision you see Joel starting to frown, so you're quick to answer before he worries.

"'m just uncomfortable." True enough. "Anxious."

He nods. "Makes sense." He exhales slowly, placing the book on the floor next to the mattresses. "It'll take a while to calm down from it. It... they came out of nowhere." You nod. He clasps his hands together on his lap. "It could've been a lot worse."

Your group had a rule. "No what ifs about the past."

Joel made your heart jumpstart all over again by almost doing it—he almost smiled. "Right. Sorry."

"We're both in one piece."

"We are." He looked down at you and then, in a gesture that your entire body freezing on the spot, one of Joel's hands leaves his lap, and makes its way to you. It places on top of your head. In administrated, slow moves, it starts petting your hair. Then, Joel speaks. As if you can listen. "None of us needs penicillin..."

His words seem to trail off.

You need a second longer to relax under his touch. When you do, the tension melts so visibly you might as well be snow under the sun.

This time, the silence is thick.

Liquid.

When his hand moves lower, it ends up on your back, rubbing between the shoulder blades, and clearing the line of sight for his eyes again.

That's when he must see it.

The second he started to touch you, your blood become fuel. You could feel it burning hot inside your veins, moving faster than it ever did with you two alone in a room. The only times it's beaten like this before you were either in life-threatening danger, or muffling your sounds behind your hand as your other did quick work between your legs.

Joel sees it.

Even if the illumination comes only from the candles, he has to see it.

The way your lips parted for him.

There's no way your eyes aren't saying as much as the temperature your body is exuding.

Joel keeps on rubbing circles for a few more seconds, but eventually, he whispers. "What?"

It makes you want to cry.

If you answer, he'll probably do the thing. He'll turn you down gently, politely.

You shake your head, swallowing a lump in your throat. "Nothing." Your eyes sting. I want you so badly it makes me a bit crazy sometimes. Instead of that, you settle for whispering. "How d'you feel?"

It takes him a minute to answer. His eyes keep shifting between where his hand is rubbing and your face. "Good. Hurts less. Unfortunately, that means thinking more."

"Dangerous."

"You have no idea," he chuckles.

This time, the silence lasts. You keep on staring, while Joel is happy to continue making your back and hair feel a tingling warmth they never saw before.

"Is this ok?" he asks eventually.

Without noticing, your eyes had closed.

Always a man of few words. "Of course."

He nods to you. "'kay."

Stay here. Don't go anywhere.

Watch out for her.

Keep close.

Those and okay. The words you most heard over these past months.

When your eyes open again, Joel's hand is traveling back to your hair and this time, the silence between you two becomes a cord.

Tension.

His fingers do careful work once they find your strands—goosebumps rise all over your skin and for the first time, you're thankful for wearing long sleeves even to bed.

You know there are words hanging in the air, begging to be said, but...

Insecurity pulls you back.

Even if your eyes keep locked on his for a small amount of forever, you swallow down your wants and needs in fear of being blinded by your own attraction and ending up projecting yours on him.

All Joel does is stare back.

Maybe if you weren't inexperienced. Maybe if you had any previous knowledge of what intimacy and relationships had been like, but this world was not the same as before and things were... harder.

So you burned in silence.

Eventually, you burned for him in the dark of your sub-conscience.

With the ghost of Joel's hand still on your nape, caressing on top of your hair, you dive into a deep slumber, and it's in dreams that everything cracks.

You're not even present in mind to witness his world shift.

Joel, in silence, watched you going under. Watched those eyes staring up at him with so much said, so much written in between your lines. He watched with his heart pounding in his chest loud enough for him to hear.

When you sleep, he observes with reverence.

Trying to push down the feelings curling up inside him.

That's when he hears it.

Spoken through your glued lips at first, then louder, more confidently. Joel's heard your sleeping mumbles before, but this one is the one that breaks him.

"Joel..." soft. Breathless. Dangerously low. And then, "Joel."

That's when Joel realizes it—late at night, alone in the silence.

It changes something in him.

📝 PART TWO →

#usernexusnyx #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller self insert #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female character #joel miller angst #joel miller smut

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waldau · 5 months

Text

little things — jeon wonwoo | 1,497 words | fluff

(or, three things that remind you wonwoo's another person like you, and not just one of the most popular idols in the world)

sometimes i shell walnuts for my family because (incoherent sounds) (something akin to peeling an orange for people you love) (they love walnuts more than i do)

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

you know for a fact that jeon wonwoo is a superstar.

he's extremely popular. he travels the world for his work. you're not the only person in the world who has a crush on him or is in love with him. but you are the only person who gets to have him like this — watching him do the dishes while you're sitting on the sink counter and kicking your feet, wearing his hoodie.

you both share your household chores, but he's made sure you don't touch a single spoon or bowl because of all the cooking you do. and you're definitely not going to complain when you get to watch him work, his muscles flexing as he meticulously dries every dish he's washed.

he's currently talking about something mingyu did in practice but you're not really paying attention to his words. you're just...watching him.

he's used to it at this point in your relationship, but he still gets flustered sometimes, like he is now. you can tell by the way his head is bowed and there's a small smile on his face, and there's no doubt he's blushing, if he's going to let you look at him.

"take a picture," he says without looking up. "it'll last longer."

when you don't reply, he looks up to find you staring at him in no doubt a lovesick manner, and you're right. he is blushing, and you're filled with the sudden urge to drag him away from the dishes and kiss him silly.

"did you hear a word i said?"

"no," you say easily, finding no point in trying to act like you were listening. you're more enthralled by the fact that one of the most popular idols in the world is washing dishes in a kitchen he shares with you. dishes that are a result of an impromptu baking session at two in the morning because neither of you could sleep.

it makes you feel small for some reason, so you just scoot closer to where he's standing.

"tell me again?"

wonwoo shakes his head. "mingyu would be happy to tell you—" he cuts himself off with the most uncharacteristic, un-wonwoo sound you've heard in your life. you don't think he's ever made that sound before.

you jump off the counter to witness wonwoo wiggling his arms like those floaty things in car dealerships, like he's got a spider on his arm or something.

you're almost too afraid to ask if it is a spider because it's always wonwoo who chases away the insects in your house, but all he does is show you the sleeves of his sweatshirt. they're wet and dripping water onto the floor. you can't help but let out a little giggle despite trying your best not to.

"it's your fault," wonwoo says, pushing his sleeves up and wincing.

"excuse me?"

"your fault for sitting there and being so pretty. looking at me."

it's not often that wonwoo's what you'd call sappy, especially with his words. you hold his face in your hands, taking in the blush that's deepened when he realizes what he's said out loud. who knew your boyfriend could sing and dance for hours on end and do stuff like bungee jumping only to be defeated by wet sleeves?

"i'll do them if you read me something to sleep."

"deal."

you get startled awake by the sound of a rhythmic tapping. wonwoo isn't next to you, either. your hand reaches out to the most threatening thing you can find to defend yourself with, but you're not sure your bedside lamp is an ideal option.

"wonwoo?" you call out, hoping it's him and no one else.

the tapping sound stops immediately.

"i'm outside," he calls out, and you let out a sigh of relief. slipping into wonwoo's hoodie, you make your way to the living room, the marble floor underneath your feet cold enough to sting.

wonwoo's sitting on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the cold. when he spots you, he opens his arms wordlessly to let you settle down into his lap. he runs cold, just like you do, which gives you all the more reason to cuddle him.

"sorry, sweetheart," he says, kissing your cheek. "i didn't mean to wake you up."

"you didn't," you say, not entirely untruthfully. you'd been half-awake before you heard the sound of whatever he'd been doing in his living room. it's then that you realize there's a hammer next to his feet, a newspaper spread out before him, half filled with...walnuts? the other half of the paper has empty shells.

"what..."

"you said we ran out of walnuts yesterday, so i went to the farmer's market when you were at work. they taste really good. we should go together this week."

"...just because i said the salad could use some walnuts?"

"just because."

you turn to hide your face , blaming the early hours of the morning for all the mushiness you're feeling. your boyfriend, who has practice in a few hours, and needs his sleep more than you do, is sitting on the cold floor of your living room shelling walnuts for your salad like there's nothing else he'd rather do.

"you're too good to me."

"i'm just perfect for you," he grins, and you respond by tousling his hair till it's a mess of your liking. it's not long before you've learned how to shell them without hurting your thumb, wonwoo feeding you a stray walnut every now and then.

wonwoo's gaming setup is grander than you expected one to be. it's probably because you weren't really familiar with gaming apparatus before wonwoo, but it's also probably because he just really loves gaming.

it's not just a gaming pc with a fancy keyboard and the usual gaming chair — it's two huge screens next to each other, lighting underneath the desk and in front of him so it's good for when he needs to stream himself, as well as the usual clutter of his desk. you can tell he's as passionate about it as he is with the important things in his life.

not to mention the little polaroids of you and him, him and his friends, and some cats he's photographed strung up together that came about when he pulled you in one afternoon and asked you to help him decorate the place a bit better.

even though it's not your cup of tea, you really enjoy watching wonwoo game. he knows and likes it just as much as you do. you know wonwoo's down for teaching you whatever game you want to learn whenever the two of you are free, but you'd much rather just watch him be so focused on trying to level up. it's kind of hot, really.

there had been this one time you pulled up a chair to watch wonwoo game with seungcheol, hoshi and vernon. he spent a good chunk of time explaining the rules of the game to the others because they'd never heard of it before, but he lost his train of thought halfway through the game and kept giggling sporadically.

you really had no idea of what had been going on, and wonwoo had to take breaks in between, laughing and explaining the unfortunate situation of vernon blowing up his character again and again, repeatedly promising it was a mistake and not something he was doing for laughs.

after that, wonwoo bought a pair of earphones just so you could listen in on conversations with his friends when it wasn't a professional livestream. hearing hoshi swear repeatedly was just as funny as trying to stop yourself from laughing loud enough to alert the others of your presence.

the thing is, wonwoo's always tried to make space for you in his life in whatever little ways he can, and you're reminded of it when he lets out a soft curse, fumbling with something in his hands.

it's those same earphones you use when you sit with him and watch him play. you haven't gotten the time to use them recently, because of your busy schedules, so it's a pleasant surprise to see them in the outside world, in the walk you're currently on. but they're tangled up so badly that wonwoo isn't able to undo them.

you take them from him with his permission and untangle them quite easily. maybe you should get back to using them more often with him.

"wouldn't headphones be more convenient, though?"

wonwoo looks at you like you've asked him why it's not okay to call yourself a tiger.

"then how am i supposed to listen to music with you?"

oh, you think.

jeon wonwoo might be a superstar. he might travel the world for his work and have people in love with him to some extent, but to you, he's your boyfriend. your wet sleeves-fearing, walnut-shelling, earphones-owning boyfriend. which is simply a lot of words for the best boyfriend in the world.

#yeah. so. this happened #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes

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tulipswoo · 28 days

Text

please don't go - jeon wonwoo

warnings: none

pairings: jeon wonwoo x afab reader

genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst

a/n: lower case intended! also writing my first fic at 1am so.....

''how was your date?'' wonwoo asked the second the door opened to your shared apartment. not that wonwoo would ever admit it but it is currently 1:03am and he may or may not have stayed up to wait for you to return despite having had a very exhausting day himself.

''why are you still up? isn't it past your bed time?'' you asked as you removed your heels. 'i couldn't sleep.' he simply said. ''so? how was it?''

'it was alright i guess. it wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst either.'' sighing, you walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge before settling near the island of the kitchen.

truthfully, you didn't want to discuss the details with wonwoo. because aside from the fact that you're in love with your best friend, you've also been going on a few dates with mingyu now to try and get over your best friend. seungkwan had suggested setting you up with mingyu when you confided in him as he knew mingyu was interested in you. the only problem, however, is the fact that wonwoo seemed to not like mingyu. ever since the first time you went out with mingyu, wonwoo had no problem in letting you know how bad of an idea it was. saying mingyu was not your type, or that you both don't look good together; all these petty reasons that make no sense at all and you were slowly getting annoyed.

''are you hungry?'' you asked as you tried to change the topic.

''are you going to continue going out with him?''

''should we order some pizza?''

''mingyu isn't even your type, i don't know why him out of all people.''

''or should we order some pasta if you're not feeling pizza?''

''y/n.''

''or maybe i should cook us something? fried rice?''

''y/n can we please just talk about this?''

''do we still have any rice left?''

‘‘Y/N PLEASE!''

''what wonwoo?'' you said back harshly. it isn't until now that you realise how frustrated you are. trying to move on from him is so hard when he is around you all the time. it makes it even harder when he keeps being harsh about your dates and points out why each one of them isn't suitable for you, and the worst part of it all is that you know he's right, all of it. but what were you to do? there is no one who could ever come close to wonwoo.

''stop going out with mingyu! you don't even like him!''

''and how do you know that? maybe i do like him! maybe i like him a lot!'' you wanted to scream and shout to get all your feelings out..but this isn't your first fight with wonwoo about mingyu or any other guy you've been on dates with and you were just so worn out by now.

''that's bullshit and you know it. mingyu literally checks none of the boxes for your list of traits for your type.''

''i made that list 3 years ago! things change wonwoo! not all of us stay the same!''

its wonwoo who is silent now. his knuckles have turned paler than ever from gripping onto the edges of the island so hard.

''what the hell does that mean?''

''nothing.'' you said as you picked up your purse and head to your bedroom. you don't get to go far though, because wonwoo is holding onto your wrist now. so tightly yet so gentle at the same time. you wonder how that is possible. you hope he doesn't feel the pulse on your wrist picking up speed, and he hopes you don't feel his hand slightly trembling.

''please sweetheart...just..not him''

you sigh for the nth time tonight, ''wonwoo i can't just not date every guy you think isn't good enough or suitable enough for me. how am i ever going to find someone?''

''do you have to? do you have to find someone? i know you don't like mingyu enough so why?''

''really wonwoo? do i not like mingyu enough or do you just not like mingyu like how you don't like every single guy i've ever been on a date with? why? are you scared i'll call you less? replace you? have a new best friend? spend less time with you?'' your frustration was slowly growing again.

wonwoo feels his heart clench. can he tell you? will it ruin your 8 year long friendship? things are bound to become awkward, there's no way he can tell you how he truly feels.

but wonwoo decides, wonwoo finally decides that hiding his feelings from you for 5 long years is excruciating enough.

''none of that.'' he says so softly you can barely hear him.

''what?''

''i said, its none of that.''

''then what is it?''

wonwoo decides that if he is to get his heart broken by you, it might as well be tonight. he might as well just....try

wonwoo looks at you one last time for what feels like a good 10 minutes, even though it was only 10 seconds. he's contemplating, he's thinking and then.. he says fuck it.

his body moves faster than his brain. before he could properly process it, he finds his lips on yours. he feels you freeze for a split second, and then he feels you relaxing under his touch. he feels you kissing him back. he feels his heart beating so fast but also, he feels his heart slowly but surely unclench.

he pulls away softly and slowly. ''don't go out with mingyu anymore. don't go out with anyone else anymore. don't have dinner dates with anyone else. don't laugh at someone else's jokes that aren't funny just for the sake of being polite. i won't put you through all of that. i'll hold your hand. i'll have a pair of your converse in the car so your feet won't hurt from heels all day. i'll tell you jokes that are actually funny the way i know you like it. just let me love you and i'll show you all the ways i know how when it comes to you.''

you don't realise your tears slowly staining your cheeks, not until wonwoo's free hand comes up to wipe your tears with his thumb. its now your turn for your hand to reach out for wonwoo's wrist to pull him in for a kiss.

''please...please don't go''

''do you mean it?'' you asked softly

''i do. i love you, and i'll show you.''

and he does. now, he always holds your hand when you're walking on the street, crossing the road, lazing on the sofa, on the bed, on the table when you're waiting for your food to be served. he holds your hair back when you have to puke after having too much to drink. he removes your make up for you when you are too tired or too drunk. he never makes you wait, he always gives you the first bite of his food. he kisses you on the cheek, on the forehead, on your temples, the back of your hand, your fingers and on your lips, all while always telling you how much he loves you. he loves you in all the small and simple ways. but jeon wonwoo knows you love him too.

a/n: im not exactly satisfied with this because while proof reading it, it feels a bit rushed but i did start this at 1am and it is 4am now so this should do. please let me know what you think or if you have any requests! hopefully my first fic went okay hahaha

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monimccoythings · 3 months

Text

Random headcanons of Alastor and his child!reader

This will mix headcanons from both the living and the afterliving times.

Tw: Controlling behavior, implied cannibalism, references to murder.

This is not proof read so I apologize for any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Your home is always filled with music. Be it the radio, a record player or him singing. There's always someone playing a tune. Even now at the hotel you can always find him in one of the common rooms humming a song or with his cathedral radio on.

Loves dancing with you, you'll be helping him cook and next thing you know he is swirling you around the room, music mixing with your combined laughter.

From a very young age, he will teach you to love the radio. He is immensely proud of his job (the legal one) and wants to share it with you.

Likes to treat your wounds and illness the traditional way, just like he used to when you were alive. You got a scratch? He is cleaning it for you and bandaging it up. You are down with something? He'll wrap you in blankets with a hot water bottle and feed you old family remedies and warm soup. If the wound or illness is way too severe to his liking, he will immediately make it go away with a snap of his fingers, otherwise he just likes to act like your caregiver and mother hen you.

Really loves to pull the 'single hardworking dad' act that makes the mothers and female teachers at your school swoon. He is not really interested in pursuing anything further with them, but boy, does he enjoy the attention.

He likes to check on you while you are sleeping. Sometimes he just stays there, quietly watching you sleep, his ever present smile growing bigger as a sense of pride fills his chest.

Lots of dad jokes, I think he's the only one who could pull it off and have everyone laugh. It goes with his radio host charisma and personality.

He does your hair. This man has singlehandledly researched and become well versed in the art of braiding hair. Braids, pigtails, or just brush it, you call it, you got it.

Alastor loves control and having power over people, he is the kind of dad that will subtly talk you out of doing something he doesn't approve of, just using his inmense charms and smooth talking skills to convince you into thinking this was your decision after doing some critical thinking. "Cher, I don't think you should do X, how about you do Y instead?" "I'm sure your friend is too busy to hang out today, why don't we go to the ice cream shop?" He won't ever put you down or make you feel bad about anything, but if you are deviating for the path that he has already set for you (the safe path) he will immediately persuade you to go back to the right way, his way. In Hell that aspect of him has become a million times worse, since he has already lost you once and has become someone with many dangerous enemies who wouldn't hesitate to use you to get back at him. His overprotectiveness and controlling behavior skyrocket when he becomes a demon, which eventually will come back to bite him in the ass.

Doesn't like having anyone question about your biological parents. He is your parent. You don't need anybody else.

Alastor is not fond of physical affection, unless he is the one initiating it. But, since he has had you since you were a baby, he has mostly grown used to your touch. He has become proficient enough in detecting your moods that he knows exactly when you are going to need a hug, a kiss or some other kind of physical comfort, so he can get ahead and start the contact first. He admits that one of his favorite ways nowadays to show affection to you is ruffling your fluffy hair, lightly tickling your ears, his eyes fill with joy when your ears get all twitchy.

Your room back at the hotel is a carbon copy of the one you had back when you were alive, but bigger, and with a private old timey bathroom. Alastor likes to come in whenever he pleases, he is the unliving embodiment of "I'm respecting your privacy by knocking but asserting my authority as your parent by coming in anyway". He even said so once. Word by word.

You can't stand Mimzy. Sorry, it's a fact, she always gets your name wrong and only comes by if she needs something from your dad. She seems to not be very fond of you either, can't understand why in Hell Alastor would waste his time so willingly just to take care of a snooty brat that ain't even his. But your father seems to like her enough, so you swallow up your critics.

When he was alive, and came back from a 'hunt', he always brought a little memorabilia for you, maybe some old watch, a fancy toy or trinket the victim had on them at that moment. Whatever little thing that wasn't too incriminating and pretty enough to be worthy of you. Now that you know the truth, you can't stop wondering with dread if every little thing he gifts you belonged once to a poor tormented soul that crossed in his path.

Might had fed you human remians in his stews. He utterly denies it, claiming that he would never do that to your delicate stomach. But the suspicious way his eyes quickly dart around the room, makes you think otherwise. It was the Great Depression after all, food was scarce. You'd rather not dwell too much on it or you will never eat anything ever again.

He is a monster, and it pained you to have been so blind all these years, but even after discovering his true nature, the only thing you could say about his parenting before that terrible night of the discovery, was that he was an excellent dad, a tad bit overbearing and overprotective, but a great parent nonetheless.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #tw: controlling behavior #tw: cannibalism #tw: murder

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heartsforhavik · 6 months

Text

yandere tomas vrbada x reader hcs

warnings: stalking, tomas is kinda disgusting and creepy here, regular yandere tendencies, some implied nsfw but not smut

summary: hcs of yandere smoke x (gender neutral) reader

a/n: he’s yandere in this story he’s supposed to be ooc btw. usually i dislike when people make smoke submissive and stuff but i get it now. anyways this was fun to write :3 i love you all go drink some water

tomas could not get enough of you. just being in the same room as you makes his heart beat rapidly. your scent was addicting like a drug, you always looked breathtaking, and you also looked so cute while you slept!

in fact, one of tomas's favorite hobbies is watching you sleep. it's not creepy, because your window isn't locked! he's just inviting himself in. he loves grazing his fingers over your skin, your sweet delicate skin, and he almost feels as if it's sinful. as if he doesn't deserve to be in the same room as you. as if he doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as you.

his heart jumps out his throat every time you speak to him. even the smallest conversations mean a lot to him, and he'll go to bed that night thinking about it, completely overthinking anything he said to you.

"hey tomas!" you greeted, walking by him.

"oh, uh, h-hey!" tomas stammered.

that's it. that was the whole conversation. and yet he went to sleep that night wanting to skin himself alive for stammering. he thought he was such a fool for not engaging enough with you. maybe if he spoke to you more, you'd pay more attention to him.

he needed your attention. he needed your validation.

even if it was negative. he just needed you to look at him.

if you looked at him in awe, he'd explode into a million pieces. if you looked at him with disgust, he'd have to excuse himself to take care of something in the nearest restroom.

tomas was also a bit of a.. hoarder. every object you have ever touched and left behind, he picked up and kept it. he tries not to pick those objects up with his bare hands, scared that he would ruin it.

that also means he sometimes takes some clothes of yours. only the ones you don't wear often, of course! he would never be an inconvenience to you and steal your favorites. he knows which are your favorites and which ones aren't.

tomas likes to sleep with your clothes right next to him. breathing in your scent as he falls asleep is a euphoric feeling to him. his heart shatters every time they lose your scent, but he keeps it anyway just because it used to belong to you. but no worries, he'll return it once you two are married!

he finds it very tempting to profess his love to you- but he knows you ultimately wouldn't accept his affections yet. he needs to wait. unfortunately, he is far too shy to even speak to you often.

sure, you both got along and you spoke at least once a day, but it wasn't enough for him. he needs to glue himself to your side in order to truly feel satisfied. for now he can handle just being in the same room once a day, but he dreams of someday being yours. someday he can be by your side. if you don't want him by your side and you only want him as a servant or something, he will gladly accept that too! whatever it takes to please you. he will follow you around like a lost puppy if he has to.

once you start dating and end up married, tomas would prefer that you didn't have a job, especially if it has to do with kombat. he would hate for you to constantly be around danger. besides, he can do all the work for you! he wants you to let him pamper you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. he can leave every morning and continue his work in the shirai ryu, then come home to you! that's his ideal future.

he knows he often puts himself in danger as well. he knows his job isn't easy, and he puts his life at risk every day. but you keep him going. the thought of your future with him keeps him going every day. it is his motivation to survive every battle he engages in.

tomas just loves you very much! he loves you so much it drives him crazy that he can't embrace you. but someday... someday he can. someday he will be able to touch you, love you, protect you. he can't wait for that day to come. for now, he is content with savoring your scent and touch everywhere you go, staring at you from afar, and yearning for your touch. but once he finally gains the courage to get closer to you and confess to you, you will be with him. you *will* be together.

#tomas vrbada #mk smoke #tomas x reader #yandere mortal kombat #yandere x reader #sub yandere #mk x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #smoke x reader #tomas vrbada x you #mortal kombat x reader #tomas mortal kombat #yandere tomas #yandere smoke

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asmosmainhoe · 6 months

Note

KAYA LISTEN TO ME-

Idk if you will feel this as much as me BUT

First you have to listen to "Get in the water" from Epic the musical. (If You didn't already xD)

Second:

How will the obey me boys react to seeing the MC in the position singing this/threatening the person that for example did something terrible to a person dear to them or even killed a loved one? Would they let them do it? Would they stop them? How would they feel about it?

For the past day I can't keep thinking about anything else and now I need your help because you always get the point that I want aaaaaagskyhskdh help

MC kills someone

MC has their magical abilities here and is manipulating the ocean

I really recommend to listen to Get in the Water by Epic the Musical, but you don't have to to understand this. It's mainly for the vibes

Gender: neutral

Warnings: threats, death, angst, MC is murderous, slight spoilers about what happens after you free Belphie from the attic in Mammon's and Belphie's parts

Lucifer

He knows what you're feeling right now, but he doesn't want you to do something you might regret later on

"Are you absolutely sure?"

As a response you only shoot him a glare full of rage and sorrow. That is answer enough

"Fine then. I won't stand in your way."

The person responsible for your grief has brought this upon themselves and Lucifer refuses to intervene

He will have your back the same way his brothers had his back during the Celestial war

Maybe he should. Maybe he should keep you from taking a life, but would he react ant different if they had taken you from him? It wouldn't be fair

So he stands still at a nearby cliff, silently watching the tides rise and listening to your angry roars

The other person falls to their knees, begging for mercy which only fuels you

Lucifer can't do much except be there for you once you finish the deed and he intends to stay by your side for as long as it takes

Mammon

He's very well aware of the fact that nothing in the three realms is going to talk you out of it, but he doesn't want to see you go down this path of destruction

"MC, you're better than this!"

"What if that person had killed me? Huh, Mammon? What would you do in my position?"

He knows what he'd do. After all he once held your dead body in his arms. The image still haunts him everytime he closes his eyes

Mammon is all for making people who take things dear to him pay, but you're his sweet MC. It pains him to see you go from the kindest person he's ever met to...this

He wishes he could take all the suffering from you and go through this hell himself

The last thing he wants is lose you so he quickly pulls himself together and decides to stand by you when you do it

"You really don't have to, Mammon."

"I do. I won't let ya go through this alone."

Because wherever you go he will follow you even if you're leading him to the deepest pits of hell

Leviathan

Like Mammon he's hesitant to let you do this at first

It's just that you've never been a killer in his eyes. You're his innocent human who occasionally kicks ass when the ass deserves it, but this is entirely different

"I want to do it by the ocean."

"W-what will you do there?"

"...drown them."

Yes. Drowning. One of the most painful deaths one can experience

Levi knows it, because he feels every single life that is being taken by the tides fading. They're his tides after all

Only then he realizes how serious you are about this and how nothing will stop you from doing it

"If you do it then I want to be with you. In the water."

You stare at him silently for a few seconds until you nod

He desperately wants to be there in case you drown yourself in your own grief

Satan

No one understands the rage that you felt the day this person took the thing most dear to you like Satan does

That day he felt it through the realms. It woke him up from his sleep and made him nearly tare down the entire house of lamentation

Your wrath still pulls on him to this day. It's making him go insane and he has no idea how long he's going to be able to keep calm. If this goes on any longer he might destroy the entirety of the devildom

That's also why he doesn't disagree with you when you tell him about your murderous plans. Maybe you both will have some kind of relief

Nothing could prepare him for the day

Not only does the sea rage under your hand. Satan does as well

It's as if something knocked out all the air in his lungs and he falls to his knees, desperately trying to control his shaking body

"Get in the water!"

He can hear your screams inside his head and he is so close to kill that person with his own two hands, but he wouldn't take that from you. He couldn't

"Get in the water."

Asmodeus

People might think that Asmo doesn't understand love. That he only understand desire and attraction on a physical level

But truth be told, no one loves the way he loves

So when you tell him what you plan on doing his expression turns completely blank and he takes your hands

You can see your own determination in his eyes

"Do you really want this?"

He whispers the words, but they're still hanging loudly in the silent room

"I do."

"Very well, love. I'll go with you."

"You don't have to, Asmo. It's my business."

"Oh, my silly MC. How do you intend to raise the entire ocean without channeling a demon's magic?"

You usually channel the brothers magic on accident, because you don't feel comfortable using their powers for your own gain

Asmo's offer is different. He has a point and looks just as sure about this as you are

If you wouldn't have decided to kill the person who hurt you the most then he would have done it himself

Beelzebub

Ever since grief took over you Beel has been eating less. Seeing you in so much pain makes him feel sick to his stomach. All he does all day is worry about you so there isn't really the time to eat something either

He's of Levi's and Mammon's opinions when it comes to this. Beel doesn't want you to walk the dark path of revenge and self destruction

Belphie is living proof that the hatred doesn't end and only takes over everything that makes you...well you

Seeing his brother in such despair was bad enough, but he can't handle seeing you like this as well

But he gets it. He felt the exact same when he lost Lilith. There were less murderous intentions though

"MC, please don't. You saw what it did to Belphie-"

"And none of you stopped him."

Ouch. Even though your words hurt, Beel won't hold them against you. He knows it's the anger in you speaking and not you

Nothing will change your mind so the only thing he can do is support you and make sure you don't kill yourself in the process

Belphegor

He knows. He knows it too well and is just waiting for you to come up to him. To come up with a plan similar to his during the time he was locked up in the attic

Belphie is the last person to stop you. It simply wouldn't be right if he did, considering how he lashed out on you back then

"Use my power, MC."

"Are you sure?"

Of course you know that you don't have to ask him. If anyone would help you with this then it was him

"I owe you. For forgiving me."

You don't think twice about taking him up on his offer and the two of you immediately get to work

The sound of crashing waves is deafening, but Belphie can hear your screams loud and clear even though there is quite a distance between you and him

The murderous look on your face, the rage you wield the tides with and the lack of life in your eyes remind Belphie of himself

And the day he killed you

---

Masterlist

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fizzy-blood · 2 months

Text

Eyeless Jack x GN!Reader Headcanons (NSFW)

Another request from a friend on Discord (I'm 100% not hyperfixated on writing rn) so enjoy 18+ warning This content Includes : Blood kink, size kink, corruption kink "knife" play, aggressive dom Jack, reader might have autassassinophilia, minor dubcon elements.

Ok to start off nice and simple this man will go from completely calm to being the most horney person you've ever met

Like one moment you're vibing in his room sitting next to him and the next you're being bent over his bed having your guts rearranged

Many things could cause this, the thing I like to think that causes this to happen the most is that Jack can tell if you're horney

Even the slightest changes to the way you look, act or smell will let him know

The point is if you're in the mood so is he

Some of the other things that get him going include stuff like borrowing his stuff or sitting on his lap (also if you somehow cut yourself and he notices it, let me just say that you will not be walking for days)

OK, I really want to do a dick description so I'm just gonna drop it here

This man is huge, sure his dick may not have been small when he was human but the whole demon thing definitely added to it

around 8.5 inch w a slight curve to the left, not super thick but noticeably larger then a humans

It's mostly gray like the rest of him but the head is like an inky black colour

Not only is he big but he also has multiple tongues, three to be exact and boy does he know how to use them

He'll eat you out regardless of your sex

Afab? He'll have your hips pinned to the bed and he abuses your clit w one tongue while the other two make there way inside you

Amab? Prepare for the greatest blowjob in the history of all man kind

Now another thing about him being a demon is the idea of him going into heat

When he's not and you want sex he'll normally agree, not much to worry about there

But when he's in heat? Oh boy can it be a nightmare...

No self-control whatsoever, like at all

Even if you don't want sex in that moment he'll be pushing you onto your back, forcing his way inside of you

Even if you didn't consent at first and wanted him off of you, you'll definitely want him to finish what he started

When in heat he'll not really care if he hurts you

In fact, he gets off to it when in that state

Biting you hard enough to draw blood, scratching at your skin, even taking a scalpel and cutting you open to see your pretty red blood

Because of his height you'll probably be shorter than him (he's like 6'8ft) and he's completely fine with it

He likes how small you are compared to him, it makes him think of you as this small helpless being that he needs to protect and care for

Another thing is if you're a virgin

Jack probably hasn't had any sex since the whole cult thing but even he has some experience

So when finds out that you're a virgin? He has to restrain himself from ripping your clothes off and fucking you right then and there

Jack kinda sees you as this pure angelic being, so when he's fucking you you've gotta be ready for an amazing combination or degrading and praise

He'll tell you how much he loves you one minute and will be calling you a slut the next

BONUS!! (Aftercare)

You're obviously going to be super sore after sex and Jack is fully aware of that

Lucky for you, Jack is super sweet afterwards

Need water? On it.

Ice? Already there.

Still bleeding? He's already grabbing some band aids.

Want to take a bath? He'll join you and help you clean yourself up.

Again, you wont be able to walk for a little while afterwards so if if you need to go somewhere, Jack will carry you to wherever you need/want to be

He'll also lay next to you in bed or have you lay on top of him and let you sleep on him

That's all for now, hope you enjoyed! -Fizz

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanon #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack headcanon

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justpoliteconversations · 2 months

Text

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 5)

You spend more money. And Link becomes a local legend.

I was intending on working on a different piece tonight, but the continuous notifications for Apple Merchant keeps reminding me of how much I want to write on it. And then the self-indulgent whispers start seeping into my brain and here we are. Enjoy your ill-gotten gains, Lurkers.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

Lurelin village. A beautiful little coastal town southwest of Hateno with just the right amount of sun and water to make any would-be visitor green with envy. Except no one ever mentioned the humidity (enough to drown someone in their sleep, you swear by it), the lizalfos infestation (something the game got right in concept, but wrong in scale) and the sand. The Goddess forsaken sand. The damned (neverending, grit in your teeth, tears in your eyes, gravel in your lungs) sand that got into everything.

So, no, Lurelin was beautiful and you'd thought once that maybe you'd get a house there (or maybe just plan a vacation). But you'd quickly been rid of the notion the moment you'd stepped foot onto the warm, picturesque beachfront property. Taken a deep, appreciative breath of the fresh, salty air. And then was promptly tackled out of the way of an oncoming spear by Skims (bless that man) as Adino put a pair of arrows into a lizalfos' hissing, gaping maul.

The face full of sand you'd gotten after being pile-driven into the ground just added to the experience. In the worst way possible. It had taken days for your mouth to feel clean of the unpleasant grit of sand grains and your eyes to stop tearing and burning in irritation. If not for Skim's constant care and Adino forcibly holding your hands away from your face when the pain became too much, you could have walked away with far worse than bad memories and a new distaste for sand.

That was the day you decided Lurelin would not be a place you'd be spending any significant amount of time in. No matter how friendly the locals or tasty the food or beautiful the ocean views. It just wasn't worth it. Not to you, at least. Maybe in another lifetime, it would have been a dream to strive towards. But not here. Not now.

You still had moments of unease when you think of what could have happened had Skim's not been so close (as he's always been, and as you'll hopefully always have him). And those moments were more potent when you were in the small village. Keeping you ever on edge and always within sight of your trusted guards.

So, one might ask why you'd chosen to go to that very village when you could go anywhere in southern Hyrule. In fact, (in those whispering moments of weakness) you'd ask yourself that very same question. Especially as you trudged miserably through the thick, muggy afternoon heat with Adino at your back and Skims on point (who knows where Red went. but it wasn't your business and so you dismissed the thought entirely).

The answer? Shock arrows. An unholy amount of shock arrows. Enough to break the purse of the average merchant three times over. And possibly put their children in debt too. And possibly their horse.

It's a good thing you weren't a common merchant.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Mubs." You called in friendly greeting as you set foot onto the dock, casting away your (unease) irritation and slipping into your business persona effortlessly. "Fair weather on the seas I hope?"

Pleasantries were exchanged, the latest information traded (Adino was feigning irritation as he eavesdropped, but you could see the way his eyes and ears flickered with amusement and surprise at the appropriate times. Skims was window shopping, eyeing some of the more exotic fish with open curiosity) and you ended up selling several thousand rupees worth of product to the woman. Fresh produce mostly, but also quite a few ores. Such things were always in high demand in Lurelin. Ores especially, as most coastal deposits were notoriously difficult to mine with the lizalfos infestation so prominent.

More workers died mining along the beach than to storms out at sea. And that's a very unsettling thought, given the ratio of miners to sailors in a seafaring village (of all places). Crunch the numbers, and becoming a miner in Lurelin was equivalent to a death sentence. And the general population knew that.

(It explained why crime rates were so low in Lurelin, when mining was the manual labor criminals were made to do.)

Passing off the last of Mubs' purchase to her, you waited patiently for the woman to finish storing away her newly acquired goods before speaking. "I have a large order request." You said, letting a small, costumer service smile slip onto your lips. And maybe that kind of smile was something that transcended worlds, or maybe Mubs just knew you, but she immediately looked wary (by the way she narrowed her eyes, it was probably the former. maybe).

She gestured for you to continue, and you did with cool (pained) confidence. "I need as many shock arrows as you can afford to part with." She started to gesture towards her arrow display, but you shook your head and she paused. "I need below deck inventory. Everything you've got."

Her brows shot to her hairline, incredulous as she cautioned. "Quite the order. Surely not even The Apple Merchant would part with so much rupee." You kept your smile (even and blank and you were quietly screaming inside), and she sighed. "'Course you would." She sighed again, harder, wiping the sweat from her brow before gesturing for you to follow. "Come on then. Lets see if we can't break yer infamous smile a bit, ya?"

You kept that smile. All through the walk across the rickety old docks, the bustling harbor and straight down into the musty bowels of a weathered looking ship. One guarded by no less than five full grown men. All through the talks with the big boss you kept your lips steadily pleasant and upturned. Right on through the exchange of rupees (even Mubs looked ill at the quoted amount, casting you a questioning, pitying glance as she clicked her teeth), and all the way back to shore.

Right up until the moment you collapsed into your (extra, super soft, not for you Adino you prickly jerk) inn bed, rolled over so your back was to Adino and Skims (who looked expectant and amused and far too smug for your liking) and stared at the wall with that same smiling, blank expression.

And then, slowly. You put your face into the sinfully soft pillow. And screamed.

"Damnit Link! Why do you cost me so much money when you're not even here?"

Skims laughed with his entire belly at your outburst, and Adino smirked, hiding his face to the side as a few rouge chuckles escaped him.

A wordless, muffled bellow was all they got back in exchange.

---

Link stared at the truly mind-boggling number of shock arrows that'd appeared in his inventory. 6800, to be exact. Which to some may not seem like an especially outrageous number, but to Link (who usually found items in the single digits) it was a truly unfathomable number to comprehend, let alone contend with. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to take full advantage of his (thoughtful, kind, wond-) generous AM's meticulous foresight to destroy the local monster population. With feeling (so much intense, pent up feeling).

He'd take every ounce of his frustration (his blood boiling, fist clenching, teeth grinding anger) and pour it all into destroying his enemies. His worry at AM's absence from his side. His displeasure at Ms. Blue's condescending and secretive (and kind too, for all she was withholding information from him. information he'd bleed for) smiles.

And especially his rage at those Goddess forsaken, Ganon worshipping, traitorous Yiga who ruined his chance to thank AM properly for their presence in his life (because he doesn't know where he'd be if not for them. and honestly, he never wants to find out).

He'd take all those emotions and channel it into something productive. Something beneficially destructive.

So, destroy the monster population he did. And how generous of the Goddesses, to have brought him to a land of eternal rain to begin his crash course in violence-fueled stress relief. With shock arrows.

It is said amongst the general Zora population (the more outspoken poetic ones at least) that when the Returned Hero of Hyrule made his ascendance through the Domain, night became day and the land was cleansed of all things foul that would stand before him. A miracle in the flesh. He who brings the light and sun to the land of rain.

And really, they weren't wrong. For the most part.

But for those who saw this supposed miracle for themselves. They all had but one thought.

'Thank the Goddesses it's not me he's pissed at.'

---

Back to the shadows to rest.

#botw x reader #botw link #link x you #link x reader #isekai reader

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cordeliawhohung · 7 months

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okay HI IM SUCH A BIG FOR THE SOFT SPOT SERIES I LOVE READING IT SO MUCH.

Just wanted to pop in and request a little comfort with ghost? I'm mid-way my midterms right now and I haven't slept properly for nearly 4 days. I need that man to either fuck me to sleep or cuddle me.

Again, love your work. Love everything you write, really. You're an amazing author and thank you for sharing your skill to the world LIKE YOU SHOULD 💅💅💅

hi hun! thank you so much!!! i'm glad that you're enjoying it a;lsdkfj like i've said before soft spot is my babyyyyy and youch! sorry to hear about finals! that's such a pain, and i apologize that this has taken a moment to get back to you. but now that you mention it, i don't think i've ever written anything just... fluffy for Simon. so i think i'll write you a short and sweet fluff bit that will hopefully cheer you up! thank you so much you are such a sweetheart 😭

warnings: none! super fluffy! sleeping issues and Simon thinks cuddles is the best medicine (:

masterlist (:

Sleep wasn't coming easy for you. A majority of your nights had been spent getting minimal sleep before being startled awake by your own thoughts. It was difficult to pin down the exact reason. You weren't stressed, or at least you liked to pretend that you weren't, and there were no strange dreams or nightmares that ailed you. Just your own thoughts, the constant feeling that you had to be doing something, anything, otherwise you were wasting time.

You stood in the kitchen with a cup in hand as you ran the sink. Everything always seemed louder at night. Your footsteps, the water pouring from the spout, even your own heart beating in your chest. The very atoms buzzing in every object around you even seemed too loud.

"It's late."

Simon's voice was deep and groggy as he spoke from the doorway, and it was piercing enough so that it cut through the noise of everything else in existence. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and you could see a faint indented line across his cheek. He must have been sleeping pretty well, which was the whole reason you left the bed in the first place; to not wake him with your restless tossing and turning.

"Baby, go back to bed," you said softly. You eyed the pale green neon of the microwave clock that read 2:04 in the morning before taking a quick sip of water.

"You've got work in the mornin'," he said simply before stepping further into the kitchen.

You sighed before setting the cup next to the sink, and you leaned against the counter. There was little doubt in your mind that Simon was just as tired of your restlessness as you were. Constantly slipping out of bed, wandering around the flat in an attempt to get the buzzing in your mind to stop long enough to hopefully fall back asleep again.

Simon's hands brushed against your hips where he pulled you closer, and you nearly melted into him. Hands resting against his chest, you let him pull you close. You felt the warm breath from his nose tickle your hairline as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

"Come back to bed," he mumbled into the crown of your head. It wasn't a request, but wasn't a demand, either. It was something that landed somewhere in the middle.

Either way, you listened. Even though you could feel the static of the world rattle your bones and shake your mind, you trotted off after Simon as he led you back into the bedroom. Your side of the bed was cold when you crawled back in, and you wondered just how long you had been standing in the kitchen for.

Simon liked his space when he slept. Something about you being too wiggly, but you didn't mind. You were used to laying your head on your pillow and holding the blankets tight under your chin to lull yourself to sleep. So when you felt Simon's hand on your shoulder, rolling you over to face him, you were a little surprised.

"Come here," he prompted in his sleepy daze.

And so you did. His arm snaked around your torso as he pulled you close, and instead of a pillow underneath your head it was his chest. His other arm rested on his torso so that he could reach and rub gentle circles along your back. One last time, he leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your head before laying down.

He didn't say anything else, and neither did you. The only thing you did was lay there, cheek pressed against his chest while your arm held him around his waist. Each beat of his heart reverberated brilliantly within his chest, and every breath he took sounded long and deliberate.

Instead of focusing on the noise of the universe around you, you found your mind enamored by Simon instead. How the subtle rise and fall of his chest rocked your body with his. How you could hear the blood gushing through his body, feel the fibers of his body creak with the weight. His warmth bled into you, coaxing your muscles to soften. You focused on trying to match your breathing with his, and you wondered if you did it long enough, if your hearts would start to sync; if your blood would pulse at the same speed; if your bodies would begin to meld.

Eventually his hand stilled, and his breathing slowed even more, and you continued to match his pace. Soon, you were nothing more than just two souls occupying the same space; atoms weaved together; lovers intertwined. Slumber settled over you before your mind even had the chance to process it, but even in your sleep your body knew you were right where you belonged.

sorry if this is too short! i'm trying to practice not writing 6k words for every single thing i put on this site a;lksdjf either way i hope it was enjoyable, and i hope you're able to get some good rest soon, anon <3

#core responds #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader

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